The commander-in-chief now began to cast about for places to ford the Chattahoochie, whose waters crossed his path. He had secured three safe points of passage above his enemy, with good roads running toward the city, ten miles distant, on which his eager eye was fixed. Marietta, where General Johnston paused to make a faint resistance before reaching the river, is a pleasant town which before the war contained a thousand inhabitants, with neat villas and elegant brick mansions. Nearly all the families left before or with the rebel army on their retreat, leaving their deserted houses and gardens as trophies for the “invading horde of Lincolnites.” But about forty houses were occupied, principally by rabid rebel women, who, as our officers rode through the town, betrayed evident uneasiness, rushing into their houses in some instances, and locking their doors against all callers who politely asked admittance. The town is beautifully situated in the Kenesaw valley, with nearly all the houses nestling in beautiful groves of southern trees that gave forth fragrant odors, to mingle with the air that is wafted to the mountain resort, where the ladies made their lookout to witness the efforts of the Federals to drive back Johnston and his followers. Our troops occupied the town about ten o’clock, while the bells of the Episcopal Church pealed out the call to public worship. The minister and the congregation were not interrupted in their devotions, the troops behaved very orderly, and, after a brief rest, resumed the march to the Chattahoochie. While here, the chieftain wrote the following noble letter to a friend of former days, the wife of Rev. Charles Bowen, in reply to a note reminding him of the cherished past in their social relations, and of the melancholy present with its cruel “Yankee invasion.” “HEADQUARTERS MILITARY DIVISION OF THE MISSISSIPPI, } IN THE FIELD NEAR MARIETTA, GA., _June 30_. } “_Mrs. Anna Gilman Bowen, Baltimore, Md._