They retreated rather as victors than defeated men, presenting a bristling front to the enemy until their regiments were lost in the forest, and beating off every attempt of skirmishers or cavalry to molest them.
It was the middle of the afternoon when the last shot was fired, and the Southern army at its leisure resumed its march toward Corinth, protected on the flanks by its cavalry, and carrying with it the assurance that although not victorious over two armies it had been victorious over one, and had struck the most stunning blow yet known in American history.
When the last of the Southern regiments disappeared in the deep woods, Dick and many of those around him sank exhausted upon the ground.

Even had they been ordered to follow they would have been incapable of it.
Complete nervous collapse followed such days and nights as those through which they had passed.
Nor did Grant and Buell wish to pursue.

Their armies had been too terribly shaken to make another attack.

Nearly fifteen thousand of their men had fallen and the dead and wounded still lay scattered widely through the woods.

The South had lost almost as many.