Forming into line as they advanced, McLaws and Walker, leaving the Dunkard Church on their right, and moving swiftly through the wood, fell suddenly on Sedgwick’s flank.  Early joined in the melee, and “the result,” says Palfrey, a Northern general who was present on the field, “was not long doubtful.  Sedgwick’s fine division was at the mercy of their enemy.  Change of front was impossible.  In less time than it takes to tell it the ground was strewn with the bodies of the dead and wounded, while the unwounded were moving off rapidly to the north.  Nearly 2000 men were disabled in a moment."* (* Memoirs page 572.  The Antietam and Fredericksburg page 87.) And the impetus of the counterstroke was not yet spent.  Gordon’s brigade of the Twelfth Corps had been dispatched to Sedgwick’s help, but McLaws had reformed his troops, and after a short struggle the Confederates drove all before them.

Confusion reigned supreme in the Federal ranks.  In vain their powerful artillery, firing case and canister with desperate energy, strove to arrest the rush of the pursuing infantry.  Out from the West Wood and across the cornfield the grey lines of battle, preceded by clouds of skirmishers, pressed forward without a check, and the light batteries, plying whip and spur, galloped to the front in close support.  Hope rose high.  The Southern yell, pealing from ten thousand throats, rang with a wild note of anticipated triumph, and Jackson, riding with McLaws, followed with kindling gaze the progress of his counterstroke attack.  “God,” he said to his companion, as the shells fell round them and the masses of the enemy melted away like the morning mist, “has been very kind to us this day.”

But the end was not yet.  Sedgwick’s brigades, flying to the north-east, rallied under the fire of their batteries, and as the Confederates advanced upon the East Wood, they found it already occupied by a fresh brigade.  Smith’s division of the Sixth Corps had been sent forward by McClellan to sustain the battle, and its arrival saved his army from defeat.  Once more the corn-field became the scene of a furious struggle, the Southerners fighting for decisive victory, the Federals for existence.  So impetuous was McLaws’ attack that the regiments on his left, although checked by the fences, drove in a battery and dashed back the enemy’s first line; but the weight of the artillery in front of the North Wood, supported by a portion of Smith’s division, prevented further advance, and a Federal brigade, handled with rare judgment, rushed forward to meet the assailants in the open.  Sharp was the conflict, for McLaws, a fine soldier, as daring as he was skilful, strove fiercely to complete the victory; but the fight within the woods and the swift pursuit had broken the order of his division.  Brigade had mingled with brigade, regiment with regiment.  There were no supports; and the broken ranks, scourged by the terrible cross-fire of many batteries, were unable to withstand the solid impact of the Federal reserve.  Slowly and sullenly the troops fell back from the deadly strife.  The enemy, no less exhausted, halted and lay down beyond the turnpike; and while the musketry once more died away to northward of the Dunkard Church, Jackson, rallying his brigades, re-established his line along the edge of the West Wood.