The regulars, outflanked after the withdrawal of Brannan’s men, fought like tigers, but were rolled back and over Scribner’s brigade—the right of which being too far advanced, was crumpled up and literally surrounded. At this conjuncture, Johnson’s division of McCook’s corps, and Reynolds’ division of Thomas’s arrived, and were placed in position, connecting with the brigades already engaged. The storm rolled upon them, and, as the most desperate valor was displayed by both rebels and Unionists, the fortune of the fight wavered, first on one side and then on the other. A tremendous onslaught of the enemy broke Palmer’s lines, and scattered several of his regiments in wild dismay. General Reynolds threw himself among the brave but broken ranks, shouting, “Boys! are you the soldiers of the Sixth Ohio, who fought so gallantly with me at Cheat Mountain in Virginia? You never turned your backs upon traitors—will you do it now?” “No! no!” they screamed, with frantic enthusiasm. “Lead us back. We will fight it out! Lead us back!” Back came the scattered fragments of regiments; with magic swiftness ranks were formed, and the order was issued for the entire line to advance—and never was a finer charge made than that which followed. But they were Longstreet’s men who opposed, and they rallied and rallied again, maintaining their reputation desperately; but Thomas, Reynolds, and other heroic leaders inspirited their men with their own ardor; the foe was still driven and Longstreet threatened with annihilation. Attacked both in front and in the flank, the enemy was slaughtered mercilessly; the artillery he had captured was, with the exception of three pieces, recovered; and he was finally compelled to fall back, in confusion, on his reserves, posted in a strong position on the west side of Chickamauga creek.