Dead and dying men strewed the ground in every direction.

Wounded horses were careering on a mad course of destruction, trampling the wounded and the dead beneath their feet.

The hoarse shouts of the officers were heard above the roar of battle.

The scene mocked all the attempts which the soldier boy had made to imagine its horrors.
In front of the regiment were the famous Eire Zouaves, no longer guided and controlled by the master genius of Ellsworth.

They fought like tigers, furiously, madly; but all discipline had ceased among them, and they rushed wildly to the right and the left, totally heedless of their officers.