Decatur, Ga., July 19, 1864.
To-night we are in Decatur, six miles from Atlanta. The Rebels were yet in Atlanta this morning, for they ran a train to this burg this morning, but they may now be gone. Our line of battle crosses the railroad nearly at right angles, facing Atlanta. I think the 23d Corps has swung around in front of us, and the 16th Corps is now on our left. Our cavalry had some fighting after 1 p.m. today. A citizen says there was nearly 4,500 Rebel cavalry here. A small portion of our mounted forces made a half-charge on the Johnnies just this side of town, and the Rebels stampeded. They knew we had a large force, and, of course, could not tell just what number was coming on them. They broke down every fence in town and ran over everything but the houses in their mad panic to get away. Our men, as usual, all stopped in town to flank the onions, potatoes, chickens and sundries, in which they were busily engaged when the Rebels, who had rallied and got a battery in position, opened right lively. Our men drove them away, and then all hands went to foraging again. To-morrow night, I think, will give us Atlanta, or there will be a fair start for a new graveyard near the town. I hear no fighting on the right. We have passed over the same miserable looking country to-day. I caught a small scorpion to-day, also a reddish brown bug not quite as large as a thrush, and as savage as a mad rat. Wish I could preserve some of these bugs and things; I know you’d like ’em