The next morning General Hardee was gone, and we all pushed forward along the railroad south, in close pursuit, till we ran up against his lines at a point just above Lovejoy’s Station.  While bringing forward troops and feeling the new position of our adversary, rumors came from the rear that the enemy had evacuated Atlanta, and that General Slocum was in the city.  Later in the day I received a note in Slocum’s own handwriting, stating that he had heard during the night the very sounds that I have referred to; that he had moved rapidly up from the bridge about daylight, and had entered Atlanta unopposed.  His letter was dated inside the city, so there was no doubt of the fact.  General Thomas’s bivouac was but a short distance from mine, and, before giving notice to the army in general orders, I sent one of my staff-officers to show him the note.  In a few minutes the officer returned, soon followed by Thomas himself, who again examined the note, so as to be perfectly certain that it was genuine.  The news seemed to him too good to be true.  He snapped his fingers, whistled, and almost danced, and, as the news spread to the army, the shouts that arose from our men, the wild hallooing and glorious laughter, were to us a full recompense for the labor and toils and hardships through which we had passed in the previous three months.

A courier-line was at once organized, messages were sent back and forth from our camp at Lovejoy’s to Atlanta, and to our telegraph-station at the Chattahoochee bridge.  Of course, the glad tidings flew on the wings of electricity to all parts of the North, where the people had patiently awaited news of their husbands, sons, and brothers, away down in “Dixie Land;” and congratulations came pouring back full of good-will and patriotism.  This victory was most opportune; Mr. Lincoln himself told me afterward that even he had previously felt in doubt, for the summer was fast passing away; that General Grant seemed to be checkmated about Richmond and Petersburg, and my army seemed to have run up against an impassable barrier, when, suddenly and unexpectedly, came the news that “Atlanta was ours, and fairly won.”  On this text many a fine speech was made, but none more eloquent than that by Edward Everett, in Boston.  A presidential election then agitated the North.  Mr. Lincoln represented the national cause, and General McClellan had accepted the nomination of the Democratic party, whose platform was that the war was a failure, and that it was better to allow the South to go free to establish a separate government, whose corner-stone should be slavery.  Success to our arms at that instant was therefore a political necessity; and it was all-important that something startling in our interest should occur before the election in November.  The brilliant success at Atlanta filled that requirement, and made the election of Mr. Lincoln certain.  Among the many letters of congratulation received, those of Mr. Lincoln and General Grant seem most important: