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.' “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 I desire to show the House what the gentleman 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. i To naught; that steel-nerved will the loftier towers, 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 His stormers; slaughter drives his flashing steeds The starry flag borne by a hand that falls, Once more in other scenes he meets the foe. Of dawn not sunset! shalt thou trail in dust? Now like some towering crag no storm can shake, Then, the dread last-O woful, woful day! His form-war's hue and love's-and they were turned 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, While up on crimson feet she toils to greet the day. Ah! the bright hour he came, though weak and low We bore him to his sylvan home; there flowers Of the red bolt, from that heroic heart In deep disdain of Fortune's fitful breath, And only bowed its rock-clutched strength to Death. In gold o'er graves like his-Fame's gold-that Time 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 all its stirring voices, The foe is striking hard; With all its muttering thunders, May swallow up its light. Benedictus qui patitur. Motto of the Benedict family. Ay! when our soldiers brave, Though scores of gallant heroes Round the old flag bravely die. Rise, then, each loyal man, When our fathers, true and bold, The flag, the flag bends low, Till stormy Treason's rage 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 ! 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! THE TATTERED FLAGS. FEBRUARY 22, 1864. Stirring music thrilled the air, Brightened with the smiles she gave; Fancy then might faintly hear And not till this, and not till then, Now they rally! And our foes 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, Of Marion, Stark, and mighty Wayne, 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? Their protests on a bloody scroll? To forge the insignia of her shame; 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. BY JOHN G. WHITTIER. A strong and mighty angel, Two captives by him kneeling, Dropping his cross-wrought mantle, "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 The drawbridge at his coming fell, The door-bolt backward drew. For all men owned his errand, At last, outbound from Tunis, But, torn by Paynim hatred, Her sails in tatters hung; "Behind us are the Moormen; Then up spake John De Matha: They raised the cross-wrought mantle, |