Another terrible night, lighted up by the flash of cannon and thundering with the crash of the batteries came, and Lee, collecting his army of less than twenty thousand men, moved out of Petersburg.  It tore Harry’s heart to leave the city, where they had held Grant at bay so long, but he knew the necessity.  They could not live another day under that concentrated and awful fire.  They might stay and surrender or retreat and fight again, and valiant souls would surely choose the latter.

The march began just after twilight turned to night, and the darkness and clouds of skirmishers hid it from the enemy.  They crossed the Appomattox, and then advanced on the Hickory road on the north side of the river.  General Lee stood on foot, but with the bridle of Traveler in his hand and his staff about him, at the entrance to the road, and watched the troops as they marched past.

His composure and steadiness seemed to Harry as great as ever, and his voice never broke, as he spoke now and then to the marching men.  Nor was the spirit of the men crushed.  Again and again they cheered as they saw the strong figure of the gray commander who had led them so often to victory.  Nor were they shaken by the booming of the cannon behind them, nor by the tremendous crashes that marked the explosions of the magazines in Petersburg.

When the last soldier had passed, General Lee and his staff mounted their horses and followed the army in the dusk and gloom.  Behind them lofty fires shed a glaring light over fallen Petersburg.

CHAPTER XVII

APPOMATTOX

The morning after Lee’s retreat the Winchester regiment rode into Petersburg and looked curiously at the smoldering fires and what was left of the town.  They had been before it so long it seemed almost incredible to Dick Mason that they were in it now.  But the Southern leader and his army were not yet taken.  They were gone, and they still existed as a fighting power.

“We have Petersburg at last,” he said, “but it’s only a scorched and empty shell.”

“We’ve more than that,” said Warner.

“What do you mean?”

“We’ve Richmond, too.  The capital of the Confederacy, inviolate for four years, has fallen, and our troops have entered it.  Jefferson Davis, his government and its garrison have fled, burning the army buildings and stores as they went.  A part of the city was burned also, but our troops helped to put out the fires and saved the rest.  Dick, do you realize it?  Do you understand that we have captured the city over which we have fought for four years, and which has cost more than a half million lives?”

Dick was silent, because he had no answer to make.  Neither he nor Warner nor Pennington could yet comprehend it fully.  They had talked often of the end of the war, they had looked forward to the great event, they had hoped for the taking of Richmond, but now that it was taken it scarcely seemed real.