e would have ended with
the total annihilation of the Southern army.

NASHVILLE CONVALESCENTS--A DEATH IN THE HOSPITAL.

On my way back to Nashville I called at the different hospitals, and
saw quite a number of the wounded. The surgeons were doing all they
could toward sending them home. Doctor Ames and Doctor Stevens, of the
6th Ohio, in fact, all the surgeons seemed assiduous in their
attentions to the wounded. As a matter of course, many thought they
were neglected; but there were so many to be attended to.

I met Major Frank Cahill. He told me he had six thousand convalescents
under his charge at Nashville.

General Mitchell was kept very busy, although but few passes were
given to any going South; but Lieutenant Osgood, his chief business
man, was up night and day, ready, at all times, to expedite those
going in search of the wounded Union soldiers. Lieutenant Osgood
certainly did more business in one day than many men, who are called
fast, could do in a week. To know that he did his duty, I will state
that Secessionists hated him, and Union men spoke in high terms of
him.

A young lad, who had been sick for a long time, died; his name was
William Stokes, and his home was near Dayton, Ohio. The boy had been
honorably discharged, but there were no blanks, and _red tape_
forbids a surgeon, no matter how high his position, to grant the final
discharge without the blank forms. For five weeks this poor home-sick
boy, only eighteen years of age, worried along, continually speaking
of his mother and home; but the inexorable law kept him there to die.

HENRY LOVIE CAPTURED.

At Bowling Green I met Henry Lovie, the artist; he had been grossly
abused by a party of a dozen butternuts, at a little town called
"Cromwell," (what's in a name?) They accused him of being a
nigger-thief--a d----d Abolitionist, and were sworn to hang him. His
servant, however, happened to have his free papers, and Lovie,
exhibiting to them passes from McClellan, Rosecrans, and other "high
old names," they were disposed to cave a little. "Our traveling
artist" for Frank Leslie took a horse for self and one for servant,
riding twenty-eight miles, fearing the butternuts might receive
reinforcements, and reached Bowling Green by early dawn, through mud,
slush, snow, and rain. Lovie wants to enlist a company to go and take
"Cromwell," and requested me to see Tom Jones & Co. in regard to the
matter.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

General St