Grant was not the only one who suffered.
Now they met some of those stragglers who flee from every battlefield, no matter what the nation.

Their faces were white with fear and they cried out that the Northern army was destroyed.

Officers cursed them and struck at them with the flats of their swords, but they dodged the blows and escaped into the bushes.

There was no time to pursue them.

Grant and his staff never ceased to ride toward the storm of battle which raged far and wide around the little church of Shiloh.
The stream of fugitives increased, and now they saw swarms of men who stood here and there, not running, but huddled and irresolute.