The Chicago Tribune's front page explodes with Civil War momentum on September 27, 1864. The biggest story: a military draft has begun in Cook County, received with "quiet and good order," signaling Northern confidence that victory is near. "The conscripts of this draft will be in at the death of the rebellion," the paper declares boldly. But the real action spreads across multiple fronts—General Sherman's forces around Atlanta are reorganizing after an armistice that saw 700 Confederate prisoners exchanged (and remarkably, 100 Confederate guards desert during the truce). Meanwhile, General Sheridan has routed Confederate General Early's army in Virginia's Shenandoah Valley, capturing 20 cannons and 1,100 prisoners at Fisher's Hill. In the West, Confederate General Forrest is raiding toward Nashville with 6,000 cavalry, attempting to disrupt Sherman's supply lines—a move the Tribune dismisses as futile. Gold prices collapsed yesterday, triggering panic on the Chicago exchange with flour dropping 60-73 cents per barrel.

September 1864 was the turning point Americans had been waiting for. After three brutal years of stalemate, Union victories suddenly cascaded across all theaters—Atlanta had just fallen in early September, Sheridan was finally beating Lee's cavalry, and Sherman was consolidating control of Georgia. The military draft itself was controversial (the Tribune warns against "excessively large bounties" that could bankrupt local war efforts), but the paper's confidence that conscripts would "be in at the death" reflected genuine Northern optimism. Lincoln's reelection, looming in November, hinged on these victories. Just months earlier, the war looked unwinnable. Now momentum had shifted decisively. The Confederacy was hemorrhaging deserters, running out of territory, and losing the ability to threaten Northern cities.

• One hundred Confederate guards detailed for prisoner exchanges deserted during the Atlanta armistice—a stunning vote of no-confidence that the Tribune notes the Confederate authorities 'are not well pleased with.' An officer who criticized the Confederacy was shipped to Macon in irons.
• Private William Cowall volunteered to stay behind in a Confederate prison camp with two sick comrades from Battery A rather than be exchanged—the Tribune explicitly calls this "magnanimity," a rare moment of praising individual humanity across enemy lines.
• A terrific tornado struck Coles County at 5 p.m. on September 26, lifting a freight train bodily off the tracks and scattering hogsheads of tobacco and barrels of flour across the prairie—yet 'most fortunately and incomprehensibly inflicting no serious injury upon anyone,' despite complete demolition.
• The German-language newspaper Der Telegraph (described as 'the German Frémont organ') is explicitly counseling German voters to abandon Radical Republican General Frémont and support Lincoln's reelection, warning that abstaining helps the 'pro-slavery and peace Democracy.'
• Gold prices fell sharply yesterday; the Tribune sarcastically mocks 'Little Mackerels' (likely a reference to McClellan supporters betting on gold prices staying high) for being hurt by the decline, while rejoicing that Union loyalists benefit from weak gold at 187.

• The Tribune mentions Senator J.R. Doolittle of Wisconsin speaking at a Mass Meeting that evening—Doolittle was a powerful Republican who would later champion Reconstruction, though he'd eventually break with the Radical Republicans and face expulsion from the party in the late 1860s.
• General A.J. Smith, coordinating the defense against Price's Confederate invasion of Missouri, was a Tennessee native who'd switched sides—he'd become one of Sherman's most reliable commanders and would serve in the postwar occupation of the South, making him a visible symbol of border-state Union loyalty.
• The paper notes that General Julius White (a Brigadier-General) is confined in Waukegan with injuries from 'exposures and exertions in the campaign before Petersburg'—Petersburg would become the grinding final siege of the war, lasting nine more months after this optimistic September date.
• The Tribune criticizes competitor newspapers (specifically the anti-Lincoln press) for their gloom about Union prospects, but this very debate—over whether the war was winnable—would explode into the most consequential election of the 19th century just six weeks later.
• The paper's confident tone about capturing rebel armies reflects a dramatic reversal: in August 1864, Lincoln himself believed he would lose reelection. These battlefield victories in late September made his reelection possible and ensured the war would continue to Confederate surrender rather than a negotiated peace.