The ground was piled with dead Yankees; they were piled in heaps.

The scene looked unlike any battlefield I ever saw.

From the foot to the top of the hill was covered with their slain, all lying on their faces.

It had the appearance of the roof of a house shingled with dead Yankees.

They were flushed with victory and success, and had determined to push forward and capture the whole of the Rebel army, and set up their triumphant standard at Atlanta--then exit Southern Confederacy.