The General stood looking in the mirror Perfectly attired, Cap a Pied. He turned to me and said "We must not delay this,Mister Marshall. This bitter cup that fate has handed me" I handed him his sword in silence. We'd be fighting in the hills Were it up to me, but even I knew that our men were starving, Surrounded, there could be no victory.
Traveler was mounted in an instant Few looked finer on a horse than Our Robert Lee. Under flag of truce we rode to the McLean House, there to await the modern Ulysses.
Grant rode up dressed in a Sergent's uniform, mud splattered, His shoulder straps the only hint of rank . He looked more like the man who had been beaten Than General Lee who had to play that part. He took Lee's white gloved hand, offered in greeting both men's faces etched with suffering, I saw. They reminisced about their other meeting, when both served Scott in the Mexican War. Then General Lee asked Grant to state terms of surrender. They sat down and, in short order, ended the unpleasantness of war.
The Victor was generous to the Vanquished: No Rebel would be tried, or lose their home. The men permitted to retain their side arms Rations fed to men of skin and bone. We'd Stack the drums and cannon in the field Give our parole despite our internal pain There were troops still in the field but it was over April Ninth, a dark day without rain.
The surrender of Lee to Grant took place in the Parlor of Wilmer McLean's farmhouse at Appomattox Station. McLean has previously lived at Manassas Junction, the scene of the war's first battle but Had relocated to Appomattox to get away from the fighting.