He was "_Old_ Peter" then, and, in all probability, no longer lives,
save in my memory. If he be dead, "peace to his ashes." If living, may
God bless and sustain him in the days that are "full of trouble."


In the midst of this terrible winter, on one of the most bitter days,
there came about noon an order from "the front" to prepare for two
hundred sick, who would be down late the same night. There was not a
bed to spare in either of the hospitals. Negotiations were at once
opened for the only church in Ringgold not already occupied by the
sick. The people declined to give it up. But, "necessity knows no
law;" it was seized by Dr. Thornton, the pews being taken out and
piled up in the yard. Fires were then kindled in both stoves to
thoroughly warm the church. There was, however, not a single bunk,--no
time to make any; all the empty ticks when filled with straw and
placed upon the floor fell far short of the number required. For the
rest straw was littered down as if for horses, and when the pillows
gave out, head-rests were made by tearing off the backs of the pews
and nailing them slantwise from the base-board to the floor, so that
knapsacks, coats, etc., could be used for pillows.

The order had reached Ringgold about noon; it was ten at night before
the rough preparations were completed. Meantime, such nourishment as
hot soup, coffee, and tea, milk, egg-nog, and milk-punch (prepared
with home-made peach or apple brandy), were kept in readiness. Near
midnight I stood in the church awaiting the arrival of the train.
Candles were scarce, but light-wood-fires outside gave sufficient
light. The candles were not to be used until needed by the surgeons,
who were now at the depot waiting to receive the sick. At last the