cepted private horses from the surrender. Now, most of my couriers and many of the artillery and cavalry own their own horses. How will it be about them?

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General Grant replied at once, speaking to me: "They will be allowed to retain them." Turning to General Lee, he added: 'They will need them in putting in their spring crops." The remark struck me as peculiar, and I have no doubt it did Lee, for Grant could have said nothing which demonstrated more completely his idea that the war was over, and that these warlike men and horses would go at once to work planting corn.

The party then soon broke up, and Generals Griffin, Merritt, and I [the Union of ficers designated to arrange the details of the surrender], accompanied by a number of other officers, rode through the picket-line to Longstreet's headquarters, escorted by a member of his staff.

The six officers appointed to arrange the details of the surrender met in a room of the hotel of the town; but this was a bare and cheerless place, and at my suggestion we adjourned to the room in the McLean house where Grant and Lee had held their conference. Here we at once organized and began to discuss the subject before us, and after talking for a while it was suggested that I should write out the several propositions covering the surrender. This I did in pretty much the same shape as that finally adopted. When I came to the fifth clause I paused, for there was an important question involved: Who should be considered as included in the surrender? It was known that a part of the cavalry had made its escape toward Lynchburg just about the time the surrender took place. The matter was discussed for a few minutes, when General Gordon rose to his feet and made quite a speech, during which he said that, as they had been treated with so much liberality, he felt disposed, so far as he was concerned, to act liberally also, and that he considered his personal honor (with emphasis) required him to give the most liberal interpretation to every question which came up for decision. Longstreet sat still and said nothing, but when Gordon sat down he remarked very quietly that he proposed the surrender should include all troops belonging to the army, except such cavalry as actually made its escape, and any artillery that was beyond twenty miles from Appomattox Court House at the time of the surrender. This proposition was at once accepted by

as

unanimous consent, and the terms agreed to were duly drawn up and signed that night.

Mindful of the prize I had seen Custer carrying off, and having no surplus twentydollar gold pieces to pay out, it occurred to me to secure a cheaper table. I therefore directed that the old pine camp-table which I had used all through the war be placed in the room. This was covered with a blanket, and when, at 8:30 P.M., the members assembled to sign the final agreement, they signed on this table. Triplicate copies were signed, one being retained by the officers of each army. The third copy I kept, and afterward presented to the Historical Society of Maryland, in the rooms of which, in the city of Baltimore, it is now preserved.

The final agreement having been determined upon, it only remained to carry out its provisions, and this was begun that same afternoon by the cavalry marching up and laying down their arms.

My corps press was at once set to work to print off the requisite number of blank paroles, but it soon became apparent that our few printers would speedily break down at the task, some thirty thousand being required. The adjutant-general reported that the press would have to be run all night and probably all the next day. I therefore directed him to send out and make a detail from the corps of the requisite number of printers to supply relays for the press until the job was finished. This was done, and we obtained all the printers we wanted, and the next day the paroles were ready for distribution. If we had needed fifty watchmakers or blacksmiths I presume we could have had them just as readily.

The following day (the 11th) Turner's division of the Twenty-fourth Corps was paraded just outside the town, and in its presence the infantry commands marched up, stacked their arms, deposited their colors upon them, and, being supplied with rations and the blank paroles, took up the line of march toward their homes. In many cases they passed to the rear through our troops. There our men crowded to the sides of the road to look at them, but in not a single instance did I hear of a rude word or taunting remark being used by our troops. In fact, their forbearance was so marked that many of our late opponents spoke of it in praise. The simple fact was that these men had earned our admiration and consideration by their conduct in battle, and we could not

afford, now that we were the victors, to treat them with disrespect.

While the surrender was going on a staffofficer reported to me that some of the regiments had been seen to tear up their colors, declaring that they would not surrender them. General Longstreet happened to be present when this report was made, and I called his attention to the matter. Having ascertained in what command it was done, he at once despatched a staff-officer with a message to the general in command stating that, General Lee having surrendered the army, his surrender should be carried out in good faith, and that the troops were bound in honor to surrender their colors with their arms. After that we had no further trouble, and the troops continued to march up and deposit their arms and colors until the whole was completed, Turner's division being replaced for a part of the time by a division from the Fifth Corps.

General Lee's army being entirely without provisions, we were obliged to supply them from our stores, and the condition of matters is thus referred to in one of my letters:

We have had to supply Lee's army with rations, they being entirely without any. As for the poor horses and mules, many of them will die for want of forage. They look terribly thin and worn down. Some of the men have had nothing to eat for three days but parched corn, and I cannot help respecting men who have fought so long and so well in support of their opinions, however wrong I may think them. The officers say very little about politics, but I think they have pretty much come to the conclusion that the Southern Confederacy has come to an end, as we all certainly do. All those of the old army whom we met seem not to have changed at all, and many references were made to old and happier times.

By the 12th nearly the whole army had been paroled, and most of the officers and men had left for their homes. Rolls in duplicate had been prepared of the different commands, and on the back of these was placed a blank form of parole, to be duly filled out and signed by the commanding officer. Such officers as did not belong to any party organization signed a different form of parole. And in addition each officer and man, when he separated from his command, was given one of the blank paroles to which I have referred after it was properly filled out and signed by his immediate commanding officer. Before the surrender was completed I happened to meet General Lee, and this subject coming up in conversation, he objected to this arrangement, saying that probably the

United States authorities would not respect the signatures of his officers, and that these paroles ought to be signed by our officers; but both General Longstreet (who was present) and I explained to him that that was impracticable for the lack of time, and he finally said he would leave the whole subject in the hands of General Longstreet.

We were kept busy for two or three days receiving the arms and collecting the guns from the surrounding country, some of which were found dismounted and buried in the woods. I then prepared to carry out General Grant's instructions, given to me just before his departure for Burkeville Junction, to which point the main body of the Army of the Potomac was moved back.

On the 11th I received a deputation from Lynchburg proposing to surrender the town, and asking our protection from their own stragglers, who had shown some disposition toward riot and plunder. General Mackenzie's cavalry was at once started for that place; it reached there the next day, and found an immense quantity of public property in the town. Turner's division was afterward sent up to Lynchburg to collect the public stores and destroy what could not be brought away.

Receiving on the 11th a request from General Lee's adjutant-general for a small escort for the general for a few miles on his way to Richmond, it was sent, and the next day, while seated in the McLean house, I received a message saying that General Lee was at the door and would like to see me. I told the messenger to ask him in, but he came back to say that the general declined to dismount. Going to the door, I found General Fitz Lee seated on his horse, and looking, I thought, somewhat uneasy. He had been a cadet under me at West Point, and I had not seen him for years. As I looked at him a vision of the past came up before me, and I could only think of a little rollicking fellow dressed in cadet gray, whose jolly songs and gay spirits were the life of his class. My salutation of "Hello, Fitz! Get off and come in," seemed to put him at his ease at once, and brought him to his feet. He came into the house and told his story. Early on the 9th, seeing that surrender was inevitable, he had, with his cavalry force, made his escape and proceeded toward Lynchburg; but becoming convinced that the war was virtually ended, he rode to Farmville and reported to General Meade. He was advised to return to Appomattox and be paroled. He became my guest for

N the morning's attack, on the 9th of April, the cavalry, reduced in numbers, had no chance against Gordon's well-formed infantry. Crook and I had agreed to fight as long as was possible, in the hope that Gibbon's infantry (Ord's command) would make its appearance. This it did in "the very nick of time." As soon as Gordon saw it deploy in his front, he hesitated and halted, and finally withdrew to a reasonable distance. Then came the truce, and it was agreed that there should be no more fighting until, I think, two o'clock. The officers met and talked over old times. I saw many Confederates whom I had known at West Point. When we parted, about two o'clock, they all expressed regret that the "incident could not be closed at once," and were sad, they said, that fighting must continue. We knew that they had no chance, and thought that they knew it too.

About the time of the expiration of the truce General Grant came on the field near the part of the lines commanded by me, and asked the whereabouts of General Sheridan. I rode with him to where General Sheridan was in the town of Appomattox, and after some conversation between them, Grant, Sheridan, and their staffs, and a number of officers rode to the front of our lines on to what might have been called the neutral zone separating the two armies. After General Grant had proceeded a hundred yards or so in the direction of the Confederate lines, General Lee, accompanied by two or three officers, rode out of his lines and met General Grant and his party. Just before the meeting, the officers accompanying General Grant reined up their horses, halting fifteen or twenty yards before the generals met. They approached each other until within a few feet, or perhaps side by side, facing in opposite directions, and after a few words drew off to the left as we faced, dismounted, and

talked. Soon they mounted again, and turning their horses' heads toward the Union lines, rode, followed by the Union officers who had accompanied General Grant, into the single road-like street of Appomattox, halted in front of the McLean house, and, dismounting, entered. They were in the house together less than one hour, I should think. I was not in the room, but once, on the suggestion of Colonel Babcock of Grant's staff, I went to the doorway and looked in, and saw the generals and their aides seated, the latter writing busily, the others engaged in conversation.

When General Lee came out of the house he was attended by his one staff-officer. As he stepped into the front yard a number of Union officers saluted him by raising the hat; he returned the salute in like manner, and then, looking in the direction of the Confederate army, smote the palms of his hands together three times, his arms extended to their full length.

General Lee then mounted his horse, a gray gelding, and rode down the incline toward his army-and I saw him no more.

If I heard any conversation between Generals Grant and Lee, it has escaped my recollection; but from the circumstances attending the surrender I am convinced but few, if any one save a single aide of each, heard the conversations.

It was through me that General Grant increased the generosity of the terms granted, by letting the private soldiers who owned their horses keep them, the same as was permitted to the officers in the written surrender. He gave me verbal directions to this effect on the afternoon of the surrender. This was done on representations made by General G. W. Custis Lee, the senior pres-, ent in cavalry command on the Confeder ate side, through me to General Grant, and not as represented by Badeau in his "Military History of General Grant," Vol. III, page 685.

HE night is wild and wet. It makes faces at me when I go to the window, like a big gargoyle; it has the dignity that belongs to ugliness and character. I'm afraid I was born a heathen for beauty's sake, for all the Christian there is in me-and that is scandalously little-is kept busy going into sackcloth and doing penance for my esthetic sins. I have never loved any person who was not beautiful. But then I have never loved many people-Father and poor Ina.

The wind starts a long way off to-night, and stirs and strengthens with a terrible deliberation. By the time it reaches you, nothing can withstand it, and you don't care whether anything can or not. I feel as if I could open the window and let myself drop, sure that it would lift me up and carry me, and I should n't in the least mind where. I dream of doing that often.

To-day I found something which pleased me. It was in that old French book of Father's that I read aloud in to keep up my accent. It was about a princess in a shallop on a river-no, I 'll copy it, rather; it seems to me worth while, which is saying something, for most things do not strike me that way. I wish I knew why.

The princess was a sea-princess, but she lived in an inland country, and when the water-soul within her called, she had only a river wherewith to satisfy it. So she floated out in her shallop upon the river, nor would she let any person guide the shallop, neither her men nor her maidens, but loved the feel of the oar, and the deference of it to her own soft hands. And she chose the hour that precedes and follows the setting of the sun, for it was a fair hour, and the river was comely. And drifting, she thought to row, and rowing, she thought to drift; so, drifting and rowing, she had her will, for no one gainsaid her. And she was a fair princess, though a haughty, and many men crowned her in their hearts, but to none of them did she incline. And certain knights took boats and sought to overtake her upon the river, for she seemed to drift. But when they drew nearer to her, drifting, they perceived that she was rowing,

VOL. LXIII.-111.

and, row they never so sturdily, she did keep the shallop in advance of them, nor did she concern herself with them, for she was a princess, and she had and contented themselves with the river, having been the sea in her heart, while they were but knights, born with river-souls, in the river country. And these wearied her, so that she rowed the stronger for her disdain, and escaped them all, though now and then but by a shallop's length.

Now it chanced that there appeared upon the river a new oar, being the oar of a prince who did disguise himself, but could not disguise his stroke; nor did he row like these others, the knights who rowed upon the river for her sake who disdained them, perceived. But the prince did not seek to overtake and this the princess, being expert in such matters, the princess, whereat she marveled; and she glanced backward over the river, and observed him that he rowed not to overtake her, but drifted at the leisure of his heart.

And every day, at the hour which precedes and follows the setting of the sun, the prince drifted at the leisure of his heart. Then did the leisure pass out of the heart of the princess, and she marveled exovertake her. And while she glanced, she drifted. ceedingly, both at herself and at him who did not And it befell that on a certain day she glanced, and behold, he was rowing steadily. Then the princess bent to her oars, she being strong and beautiful, and so escaped him like the others, and he saw that she smiled as she escaped. But he rowed mightily, for he was a prince, and he gained upon her. And she perceived that he gained upon her, and it did not suit her to be overtaken, for thus was her nature, and she followed her nature, for she was princess, and it was permitted her. And she smote the water, and turned her shallop swiftly, and disappeared from his sight, and from the sight of all those others whom he had distanced upon the river. And the light fell, and the dusk rose, and they twain, the escaped and the pursuing, the fleeing and the seeking, were alone on that part of the river. For it is not a frequented part of the river. And the princess hid from him. And she believed him to have passed by unwitting, so she stirred in her shallop to find her oars, but lo! she had lost them. And she was adrift upon the river, and it was dark. Now, while she sat there in perplexity, but mute, for she was royal, she heard the motion of oars, as they had been muffled, and it was not easy to follow the sound thereof, for it was a subtle stroke, although a mighty. And she recognized the stroke, and she remembered that she had lost her oars.

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