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As the capture was reported in the Nashville papers as made by Colonel Mizner's command, I desire to do justice to a private soldier by stating who made the capture, and also give your readers an incident of the war, which will lose none of its interest by being told by another, who was a party to the story he tells so well:

nearly close enough to do it, when, seeing my intention, he threw up his hands and cried: 'I surrender.'

I made him catch the two horses, and we returned as quickly as possible. On my way back I met a fellow recruiting-officer, who had heard my firing and between his mule's ears, to see what had become of come up, and was peeping over the brow of the hill, me. After riding three or four miles, we joined the rest of our party.

"Of the four guerrillas we saw, Stovall captured the Colonel (Cooper) and one man-I, another man and three horses. One escaped. We heard of him again that evening. He had reported that we killed Cooper and captured the rest, and that he had a hole shot through his own hat.

In his hand he held his

pistol, still cocked, which he had forgotten to use

while we were after them.

"If there is such a thing as a guerrilla, I suppose Colonel Cooper is one. I have his saddle and bridle as a trophy.'

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“On an afternoon, a week or two ago," says my informant, who, by the way, was one of a number of I may add that Stovall and my informant (whose recruiting officers for colored regiments, "six or eight of us were riding leisurely along a half-mile in ad- pardon I humbly beg for here informing the reader he vance of the foraging detail, on Swan Creek, twenty was Lieutenant Joseph K. Nelson, of the Third Alamiles west of Columbia, when we discovered four bama infantry, colored troops) turned over the prisonguerrillas, riding as carelessly as we, along a by-wayers to Sergeant Craig, who was in command of the to our right. Our boys fired at them, but instead of foraging party, and he delivered them to Major Fitzreturning the fire, they galloped off. My revolver had gibbons, of Colonel Mizner's command. Hence the failed me-missed fire. Private Stovall, of the Fiftieth report that Colonel Cooper was captured by Colonel Mizner's command. Illinois, dashed out after them. The rest held back, or their horses and mules did, I don't know which. I determined Stovall should not be alone, and let old gray do her best after him. None of the others could keep in sight of the rebels. Stovall and I had the chase to ourselves, he being some twenty yards ahead

of me.

"The path the rebels took led up a rough stony creek-right in the creek half of the time. Just as Colonel Cooper's horse got into the creek, about forty yards in advance of Stovall, he fell, and threw Cooper plump into the water. The horse got up and ran away. Cooper tried to get on behind one of his men, but the saddle turned, and they both fell into the creek, when, Stovall having arrived, he presented his pistol so dangerously that they deemed discretion the better part of valor,' and surrendered. armed them, waved his pistol over his head, gave a shout of triumph, and dashed on after the other two, who were by this time entirely out of sight.

He dis

"I staid and held the prisoners until Sergeant Craig came riding leisurely up at a trot, when I turned the prisoners over to him, and followed Stovall, who did not see where the rebel horse-tracks left the path, and so kept on. I saw the tracks, and followed them like a greyhound through the brush; and just as old gray brought me triumphantly to the top of a high hill, I caught sight of my men-the guerrillas. They had stopped to fix their saddles. I confess I felt rather dubious about encountering two rebels, so far away from assistance; but I knew it was best to put on a bold front, so I spurred on as big as though I had a dozen trusty pistols, and demanded, as they valued their lives,' a surrender. They couldn't see it in that light, but galloped off. I followed, and finally succeeded in sending one shot somewhere in their neighborhood, when they separated. I followed the one who had two loose horses with him, determining to make the most valuable capture I could. I shot again at him at close quarters, but it only added to his speed. At last I determined to ride alongside and knock him off his horse with the butt of my revolver. I got

WASHBURNE ON Cox.-The following is the full text of the remarks of Mr. Washburne, in reply to Cox, in the House of Representatives:

Mr. WASHBURNE, of Illinois. I wish to make an excuse for the author of the pamphlet from which the gentleman from Ohio has read such copious extracts. I think that author has been corrupted by my friend from Ohio. I think he must have been reading a book which the gentleman from Ohio has written, which I now hold in my hand, and which I have read with great pleasure. The gentleman from Ohio said that he had heretofore answered this book in the House, and that I had heard his speech. I always liked to hear the speech he made to-day. [Laughter.] I have listened to it several times. [Laughter.] We shall not probably have the pleasure at the next Congress of hearing my friend from Ohio rehearse this speech here, because I think, in the light of the recent elections in Ohio, and particularly in the district of the honorable gentleman, I can say to him, in the language of Watts, and in the spirit of the utmost kindness:

"You living man, come view the ground
Where you must shortly lie."

I desire to show the House what the gentleman
from Ohio has written in regard to the "African," in a
book entitled "A Buckeye Abroad; or, Wanderings
in Europe and in the Orient. By S. S. Cox." He is
'In the mean time,
describing St. Peter's, and says:
scraphic music from the Pope's select choir ravishes
Soon
the ear, while the incense titillates the nose.
there arises in the chamber of theatrical glitter"-
what? - a plain unquestioned African! [laughter]
and he utters the sermon in facile Latinity, with grace-
ful manner. His dark hands gestured harmoniously
with the round periods, and his swart visage beamed
with a high order of intelligence." [Laughter.] What
was he? Let the gentleman from Ohio answer: "He
was an Abyssinian. What a commentary was here

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upon our American prejudices! The head of the great Catholic Church, surrounded by the ripest scholars of the age, listening to the eloquence"-of whom? -"of the despised negro; and thereby illustrating to the world"-what? "thereby illustrating to the world the common bond of brotherhood which binds the human race.' [Roars of laughter.]

-

Mr. Speaker, I appeal to the House if it does not appear that the author of that pamphlet must have been corrupted by reading the work of my friend from Ohio.

But the gentleman goes on to say: "I confess that, at first, it seemed to me a sort of theatrical mummery, not being familiar with such admixtures of society." That was the first impression of my young and festive friend from Ohio, as he wandered through the gilded corridors of St. Peter's. [Laughter.] But," says he, "on reflection, I discerned in it the same influence which, during the dark ages, conferred such inestimable blessings on mankind. History records that from the time of the revival of letters the influence of the Church of Rome had been generally favorable to science, to civilization, and to good government. Why?" Why, asks my friend from Ohio, is the Church of Rome so favorable to science, to civilization, and to good government? Let the gentleman answer: "Because her system held then, as it holds now, all distinctions of caste as odious." [Great laughter.] "She regards no man-bond or free, white or black-as disqualified for the priesthood. This doctrine has, as Macaulay develops in his introductory chapters to his English history, mitigated many of the worst evils of society; for where race tyrannized over race, or baron over villein, Catholicism came between them and created an aristocracy altogether independent of race or feudalism, compelling even the hereditary master to kneel before the spiritual tribunal of the hereditary bondsman. The childhood of Europe was passed under the guardianship of priestly teachers, who taught, as the scene in the Sistine Chapel of an Ethiop addressing the proud rulers of Catholic Christendom teaches, that no distinction is regarded at Rome save that which divides the priest from the people.

"The sermon of the Abyssinian "-that is, of this colored person, this Roman citizen of "African descent""in beautiful print, was distributed at the door. I bring one home as a trophy and as a souvenir of a great truth which Americans are prone to deny or contemn." [Laughter.]

Now, I ask my friend from Ohio if he has still got that trophy and souvenir to bring into this

Hall?

A STIRRING APPEAL TO THE WOMEN.-From copies of Savannah and Columbus (Ga.) papers is taken the following:

TO THE WOMEN OF GEORGIA.

ATLANTA, Feb. 5, 1864.-A report has been put in circulation in various portions of the State, that the Bocks knit by the ladies of Georgia for this department have been sold by me to the troops on the field. With out entering into the details of this vile and malicious report, I hereby pronounce the whole tale to be a malicious FALSEHOOD! I deny, and challenge the world for proof to the contrary, that there has ever been a sock sold by this department to a soldier of the confederate army since my first appeal to the women of Georgia to knit for their destitute defendI hereby bind myself to present ONE THOUSAND

ers.

DOLLARS to any person-citizen or soldier-who will come forward and prove that he ever bought a sock from this department that was either knit by the ladies or purchased for issue to said troops.

This report has been invented, on the one hand, by the enemies of our noble boys, who rejoice in their sufferings, and are delighted when they suspend the efforts of our noble women in their behalf; on the other hand, by servile opponents of this department, who forget that in venting their unprovoked spite upon us, they are causing the troops of their State to march over frozen ground and the drifting snow with uncovered and bleeding feet.

Women of Georgia! again I appeal to you. This time I call upon you to frown down these vile falsehoods. Demand of them who peddle the tale, the evidence I call for above. Until that testimony is produced, I implore you, stay not your efforts. I assure you, in the name of all that is holy and nobleon the honor of a man and an officer-that myself or any of my assistants have never sold a pair of socks that were knit by you. Every pair has been issued to the destitute troops as a gift, as about seventeen thousand gallant sons of the Empire State will gladly bear testimony.

Daughters of Georgia, I still need socks. Requisitions for them are daily pouring in upon me. I still have yarn to furnish you. I earnestly desire to secure a pair of socks for every barefooted soldier from Georgia. You are my only reliance. Past experience teaches me I will not appeal to you in vain. IRA R. FOSTER, Quartermaster-General of Georgia.

COLONEL LEWIS BENEDICT.

BY ALFRED B. STREET.

[The following lines on the death of Colonel Lewis Benedict, who fell while leading his brigade at the battle of Pleasant Hill, Louisiana, April 9, 1864, were recited by James E. Murdoch, be fore the New-York Legislature, on the second of February, 1865.] We laid him in his last and patriot rest; Dark Death but couched him on Fame's living breast. We twine the sorrowing cypress o'er his grave, And let the star-bright banner loftier wave At mention of his deeds! In manhood's prime, Blossoms the pinions waved by smiling Time, He left life's warbling bowers for duty's path, Where the fierce war-storm flashed its reddest wrath Path proud, though rough; outrang the trumpet's

blast:

"To arms, to arms! down to the dust is cast The flag, the dear old flag, by treason's hand!" And the deep thundering sound rolled onward through the land.

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To naught; that steel-nerved will the loftier towers,
Treading the painful thorns like pleasant flowers.
Free once again, war's trumpet-clangors ring
The warrior to the birthplace of the Spring.
Where the stern Mississippi sea-like sweeps,
To summer flowers, pine cones of wintry steeps,
Into Death's eyes again he fixed his gaze.
Lo! where Port Hudson's deadly batteries blaze,
Whose that tall form that towers when all lie low,
Brow to the sun and bosom to the foe?
Brow to the sun, his brave sword in his hand,
Pointing "There-up and onward, patriot band!"
Again! red batteries' hurling awful hail

Like the flerce sleet that loads the thundering gale. Ranks crushed beneath showered shot and shell, like grain

By that same sleet, across the heaped-up plain
Full in the fort's hot, gaping hell, he leads

His stormers; slaughter drives his flashing steeds
Trampling broad lancs amid the serried might;
But on, bathed deep in battle's awful light,
On that tall form with lightnings all around;
Firm his proud step along the streaming ground,
Quaking with cannon-thunders; up his tread,
Up to the parapet, above his head

The starry flag borne by a hand that falls,
Death-struck; he grasps the flag-the rebel walls
See the waved stars in that strong clutch, till back
The ebbing conflict drags him in its track.

Once more in other scenes he meets the foe.
O'ermatched, our columns stagger to their blow;
Vain on their squares bold Emory's files are hurled;
Backward the dashing cataract is whirled
Splintered to spray. O banner of the skies!
Flag of the rising constellations, dyes

Of dawn not sunset! shalt thou trail in dust?
Shall blind, dead darkness hide our blazing trust?
On, braves! but no- they pause-they reel - they
break!

Now like some towering crag no storm can shake,
Like some tall pine that soars when all the wood
Bows to the winds-some rock amid the flood,
Our hero stands! he forms each tottering square.
Through them the blazing thunderbolts may tear,
But vain the bulwark stands, a living wall,
Between the foeman and that banner's fall.

Then, the dread last-O woful, woful day!
Ah! the dimmed glory of that trophied fray!
Ah! the fell shadow of that triumph's ray!
Hurling the foeman's might back, back, at last
Onward he sweeps-on, on, as sweeps the blast!
On through the keen, red, hissing air-ah! woe!
That ruthless fate should deal such cruel blow!
On, through the keen, red, hurtling air-but see
That form-it reels-it sinks! that heart, so free
To dare the battle-tempest's direst might,
Winged with the quick, fierce lightning of the fight,
And soaring through the victory's gladdening light,
Up to untroubled realms, hath passed in instant flight!
Death, where he fell, in roses red inurned*

His form-war's hue and love's-and they were turned
To laurels at the touch, and one green twine

From them the land hath wrought to deck the hero's shrine.

He fell in conflict's fiercest, wildest flame; And now his loved and laurelled ashes claim

Colonel Benedict fell literally on a bed of crimson rosesthe wild Louisiana rose.

VOL. VIII.-POETRY 4

Our heartfelt sorrow! for among the brave,
None braver; and when battle left his eye,
None softer! Let the stricken nation sigh
For such as he who perish by the way,

While up on crimson feet she toils to greet the day.

Ah! the bright hour he came, though weak and low
With prison languors! Cheerily on were borne
The merry clang of the bells. Clang, clang, they rang!
Joy in our hearts in jocund music sprang!
And all shone pleasureful. One long, long toll,
One long, deep, lingering sound that tells the goal
Of some spent life, then moans along the air
As sorrowing hands our hero's ashes bear
To lie in honored state. We saw his form
Sprinkled with blossoms breathing fresh and warm;
That form so still, so peaceful to our gaze,
That soared so grand amid the battle's blaze,
Scorning the shrieking shell, the whizzing ball,
Sleeping so still beneath his warrior-pall!

We bore him to his sylvan home; there flowers
Should o'er him smile; but chief, the oak that towers
Unbent by blasts, and breaks but to the dart

Of the red bolt, from that heroic heart
Should spring; for, 'mid his kindly graces soared
A firm-knit will-a purpose strong that warred

In deep disdain of Fortune's fitful breath,

And only bowed its rock-clutched strength to Death.
There shall he lie. When our new-kindled sun
Shall dawn, his first rejoicing rays shall run

In gold o'er graves like his-Fame's gold-that Time
Shall brighten-and his monument sublime,
Oh! seek it not in stone, but in piled hearts
That loved him! The carved marble soon departs,
But the heart's token, sent through ages down,
Warm in its living might, mocks Time's most wither-
ing frown.

Blessed is he who suffers, and we know

A solemn joy, that one whose manhood's glow Faded so soon, should die to mark how grand Above all fleeting life, to die for Native Land.

OUR FLAG IN '64.

BY D. B. DUFFIELD.

Fling, fling our banner out,
With loyal song and shout,
O'er every home and hill,
By each deep valley's mill,
And let its heaven-lit beam
Round every hearth-stone gleam,
And fill the passing hour-
This pregnant, fateful hour-

With all its stirring voices,
And the thunder of its power.

The foe is striking hard;
But in the castle-yard
Uprise fresh traitor bands
To snatch from out our hands,
From fortress and from sea,
This banner of the free,
To give it coward flight,
That Anarchy's dark night,

With all its muttering thunders, May swallow up its light.

Benedictus qui patitur. Motto of the Benedict family.

Ay! when our soldiers brave,
On battle-field and wave,
Sprang forth with deadly stroke
Through battle's blazing smoke,
Our standard to uphold,
And save its every fold,
These home-born traitors cry,
"God grant no victory !"

Though scores of gallant heroes Round the old flag bravely die.

Rise, then, each loyal man,
Your home-horizon scan,
And plant the nation's flag
On hill-side and on crag;
And let your swelling soul
In earnest tones outroll
That brave resolve of old,

When our fathers, true and bold,
Swore a fealty to the flag
Which never once grew cold.

The flag, the flag bends low,
For whirlwinds round it blow,
And wild, chaotic night
Is veiling it from sight;
So let us every one,
While yet the winds rage on,
Cling round the straining mast
And hold the banner fast,

Till stormy Treason's rage
Be safely overpast.

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Here God has smiled-here Peace has reigned-all tongues have utterance here;

Here Faith is free to choose her creed-no despot's stake is near;

Here reigns an empire without walls, a wonder to the world:

And shall this fabric be dissolved? Columbia's Flag be furled?

Our Flag shall stay unfurled,

Our Flag shall stay unfurled !
Though Freedom's foes may plot her death,
Yet while a patriot holds his breath,

Our Flag shall stay unfurled!

Float on, thou emblem of the age-defence on land and sea!

O God of hosts! in humble faith, we trust our cause to thee!

Then traitor's plots and tyrant hordes against us may be hurled

Yet shall our Flag victorious wave, the hope of all the world!

Our Flag shall stay unfurled,

Our Flag shall stay unfurled!
Though Freedom's foes may plot her death,
Yet while a patriot holds bis breath,
Our Flag shall stay unfurled!

THE TATTERED FLAGS.

FEBRUARY 22, 1864.

Stirring music thrilled the air,
Brilliant banners fluttered there,
Pealed the bells and rolled the drum,
And the people cried: "They come !”
On they came with measured tramp-
Heroes proved in field and camp.
Banners waved more proudly then;
Cheered the children, cheered the men;
Beauty, lover of the brave,

Brightened with the smiles she gave;
While the sun, in golden jets,
Flowed along the bayonets,
As upon each laurel crown
Heaven had poured a blessing down.
All was stirring, grand, and gay,
But the pageant passed away
When, with proud and filling eye,
I saw the tattered flags go by!

Fancy then might faintly hear
Hosts advancing, battle cheer,
Sightless bullets whiz along-
Fit refrain for battle-song;
Cannon, with their sulphurous breath,
Hurling messages of death;
Whirring shot and screaming shell
Fluttering where in wrath they fell,
Opening graves-while purple rills
Scar the fields and streak the hills.
See the serried columns press-
Bold, defiant, merciless-
On the long and slender line
Where the starry banners shine;
With demoniac yells they come,
Fiercely drive their bayonets home,
And the arching heavens resound-
God! our men are giving ground!
Shouts, and cries of wild despair,
Mingle in the murky air.

And not till this, and not till then,

Now they rally! And our foes
Reel before their vengeful blows,
While the wounded pause to cheer
As they stagger to the rear,
And the dying catch the sound,
Clutch their weapons from the ground,
Struggle up ere life be gone,
Smile, and wave their comrades on,
Falling with a joyful cry

As the dear tattered flags go by!

PHILADELPHIA, March, 1864.

E. H. M.

IS THIS THE LAND OF WASHINGTON ?

BY I. Q. A. WOOD.

Is this the land of Washington,

For which our patriot-fathers bled,
Whose mighty strides to freedom shook
The continent beneath their tread?
Is the land of Knox and Green-

Of Marion, Stark, and mighty Wayne,
Who hurled the despot from our shores,
And dashed to earth his galling chain?
Were these our sires-are we the sons

Of men whose fame hash filled the earth? And have we dwarfed and dwindled thus,

To mock the majesty of birth?

Arise! ye heroes of the past!

Where mould your bones by many a steep, Behold the sons that heir your fameBehold your progeny and weep! Were such, with old Laconia's son,* The men who fought at Bennington ?

Is this the land of Washington,

That warmed the patriot's sanguine dreams, Where Liberty made bright her shield,

And nursed her eaglets in its gleams?
Where Bunker Hill and Monmouth field
Shot terror to the oppressor's soul,
And wrote, with many a flying pen,

Their protests on a bloody scroll?
And shall hour-born oppression spurn
These creeds to alien tyrants taught,
And Freedom's beauteous limbs enthrall,
Or bind the lightning of her thought?
Shall her unwilling hands be made

To forge the insignia of her shame;
Her tongue to speak, her pen to write,
A flaming falsehood on her fame?
Say, ye who stood on Trenton's height,
Shall thus Columbia's freemen write?

No! never while one spark remains

Unquenched of freedom's altar-fires, Which still may shoot aloft in flame,

Fanned by the memory of our sires; No! not till every patriot's blood

Is poured upon the sword to rust, And Liberty, without her shield,

Trails her bright garments in the dust; Not till the mother fails to teach

Her offspring, with a zeal divine, The foeman's rights, baptized in blood, At Bunker Hill and Brandywine;

Laconia's Son.-In the early days of the discovery and At the settlement of New-Hampshire, it was called Laconia. famous battle, or battles, of Bennington (for two were fought on the same day and on the same field) General Stark, of NewHampshire, commanded.

Shall dawn that black and hateful hour That dooms the patriot's tongue and pen

To bide the weight of bigot power; And then to shame our father's graves, We shall deserve the brand of slaves. OWENSBORO, KY., 1864.

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BY JOHN G. WHITTIER.

A strong and mighty angel,
Calm, terrible, and bright,
The cross in blended red and blue
Upon his mantle white!

Two captives by him kneeling,
Each on his broken chain,
Sang praise to God who raiseth
The dead to life again!

Dropping his cross-wrought mantle,
"Wear this," the angel said;

"Take thou, O Freedom's priest! its signThe white, the blue, and red!”

Then rose up John De Matha

In the strength the Lord Christ gave,

. And begged through all the land of France The ransom of the slave.

The gates of tower and castle
Before him open flew,

The drawbridge at his coming fell,

The door-bolt backward drew.

For all men owned his errand,
And paid his righteous tax;
And the hearts of lord and peasant
Were in his hands as wax.

At last, outbound from Tunis,
His bark her anchor weighed,
Freighted with seven score Christian souls
Whose ransom he had paid.

But, torn by Paynim hatred,

Her sails in tatters hung;
And on the wild waves rudderless,
A shattered hulk she swung.
"God save us !" cried the captain,
"For naught can man avail :
Oh! woe betide the ship that lacks
Her rudder and her sail!

"Behind us are the Moormen;
At sea we sink or strand:
There's death upon the water,
There's death upon the land!"

Then up spake John De Matha:
"God's errands never fail!
Take thou the mantle which I wear,
And make of it a sail."

They raised the cross-wrought mantle,
The blue, the white, the red;
And straight before the wind off shore
The ship of Freedom sped.

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