John D. Billings, The history of the Tenth Massachusetts battery of light artillery in the war of the rebellion

[238] piece drivers were sent up to draw out from behind the works such of the captured artillery as had not been removed the day before. They returned with one gun and five caissons, and described the sight to be witnessed at and near the salient as beggaring all description. The slope in front of the salient had been carefully cleared of all material obstructions by the enemy, and along this lay scattered many dead men, wearing the Union blue, whom a burial-party were rapidly consigning to soldiers' graves. They lay thickest next the breastwork, where they had fallen fighting hand to hand. To the right lay the piece horses of Battery ‘C and I,’ which were shot as they were making a ‘left about’ to unlimber. Behind the works stood a heavy growth of hard wood, and just inside them was a vast trench from which the earth had been taken for their construction. This ditch, in places, was literally filled with the enemy's dead and wounded. I went up with the drivers to get the guns and remained to look over the field. In the trench I saw the Rebels lying four deep, with some of the wounded at the bottom, now and then sending up the most agonizing shrieks of pain. A more horrible or heart-stirring sight seems scarcely conceivable. The dead lay in all kinds of attitudes as they fell, and the rain had added horror to their ghastliness. Not far apart lay two dead Rebel colonels, and behind a log were six men, all of whom I thought dead, until I discovered the eyes of one of them following me in my roaming. There he lay mute—until addressed—and motionless, three of his dead comrades pressing him on the one hand and two on the other. He was wounded in three places, but made no signs of pain. Feeling somewhat interested in his case, I called for help, and,