It was the seventh of April when the Winchester men rested their weary horses, not far from the headquarters of General Grant, and also gave their own aching bones and muscles a chance to recover their strength.  Dick, after his food and coffee, watched the general, who was walking back and forth before his tent.

“He looks expectant,” said Dick.

“He has the right to look so,” said Warner.  “He may have news of earth-shaking importance.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know that he sent a messenger to Lee this morning, asking him to surrender in order to stop the further effusion of blood.”

“I wish Lee would accept.  The end is inevitable.”

“Remember that they don’t see with our eyes.”

“I know it, George, but the war ought to stop.  The Confederacy is gone forever.”

“We shall see what we shall see.”

They didn’t see, but they heard, which was the same thing.  To the polite request of Grant, Lee sent the polite reply that his means of resistance were not yet exhausted, and the Union leader took another hitch in the steel girdle.  The second morning afterward, Lee made a desperate effort to break through at Appomattox Court House, but crushing numbers drove him back, and when the short fierce combat ceased, the Army of Northern Virginia had fired its last shot.

The Winchester men had borne a gallant part in the struggle, and presently when the smoke cleared away Dick uttered a shout.

“What is it?” exclaimed Colonel Winchester.

“A white flag!  A white flag!” cried Dick in excitement.  “See it waving over the Southern lines.”

“Yes, I see it!” shouted the colonel, Warner and Pennington all together.  Then they stood breathless, and Dick uttered the words: 

“The end!”

“Yes,” said Colonel Winchester, more to himself than to the others.  “The end!  The end at last!”

Thousands now beheld the flag, and, after the first shouts and cheers, a deep intense silence followed.  The soldiers felt the immensity of the event, but as at the taking of Richmond, they could not comprehend it all at once.  It yet seemed incredible that the enemy, who for four terrible years had held them at bay, was about to lay down his arms.  But it was true.  The messenger, bearing the flag, was now coming toward the Union lines.

The herald was received within the Northern ranks, bearing a request that hostilities be suspended in order that the commanders might have time to talk over terms of surrender, and, at the same time, General Grant, who was seven or eight miles from Appomattox Court House in a pine wood, received a note of a similar tenor, the nature of which he disclosed to his staff amid much cheering.  The Union chief at once wrote to General Lee: