Kershaw was clinging to his enemy like grim death from eleven o’clock until late in the evening—­his men worn and fagged, hungry and almost dying of thirst, while the ammunition was being gradually exhausted and no relief in sight.  Hindman (Johnson on the left) had driven the enemy back on Snodgrass Hill, where Granger’s reserves were aiding them in making the last grand struggle.  Snodgrass Hill was thought to be the key to the situation on our left, as was Horse Shoe Bend on the right, but both were rough and hard keys to handle.  Kershaw had driven all before him from the first line of works, and only a weak fire was coming from the second line.  All that was needed now to complete the advance was a concentrated push along the whole line, but the density of the smoke settling in the woods, the roar of battle drowning all commands, and the exhaustion and deflection of the rank and file made this move impossible.

But just before the sun began dipping behind the mountains on our left, a long line of gray, with glittering bayonets, was seen coming down the slope in our rear.  It was General Grade, with his Alabama Brigade of Preston’s Division, coming to reinforce our broken ranks and push the battle forward.  This gallant brigade was one thousand one hundred strong and it was said this was their first baptism of fire and blood.  General Gracie was a fine specimen of physical manhood and a finished looking officer, and rode at the head of his column.  Reaching Kershaw, he dismounted, placed the reins of his horse over his arm, and ordered his men to the battle.  The enemy could not withstand the onslaught of these fresh troops, and gave way, pursued down the little dell in rear by the Alabamians.  The broken lines formed on the reserves that were holding Snodgrass Hill, and made an aggressive attack upon Gracie, forcing him back on the opposite hill.

Twigg’s Brigade, of the same division, came in on the left and gave him such support as to enable him to hold his new line.

The fire of Longstreet’s batteries from the angle down Thomas’ lines, forced that General to begin withdrawing his troops from their entrenchments, preparatory to retreat.  This movement being noticed by the commanding General, Liddell’s Division on the extreme right was again ordered to the attack, but with no better success than in the morning.  The enemy had for some time been withdrawing his trains and broken ranks through the gaps of the mountain in the direction of Chattanooga, leaving nothing in front of the left wing but the reserves of Granger and those of Crittenden.  These held their ground gallantly around Snodgrass Hill, but it was a self-evident fact to all the officers, as well as the troops, that the battle was irretrievably lost, and they were only fighting for time, the time that retreat could be safely made under cover of darkness.  But before the sun was fairly set, that great army was in full retreat.  But long before this it was known to