A fresh Northern brigade, a reserve, had just arrived upon the field.

Joining it to the forces of Lew Wallace, afterwards famous as a novelist, Grant hurled the entire division upon Pillow's weakened and discouraged army.
Winchester's regiment joined in the attack.

Dick felt himself swept along as if by a torrent.

His courage and the courage of those around him was all the greater now, because hope, sanguine hope, had suddenly shot up from the very depths of despair.

Their ranks had been thinned terribly, but they forgot it for the time and rushed upon their enemy.
The battle had rolled back and forth for hours.