rd the spring of 1865, but it was too late.

These notices of General Lee individually are necessary to a clear
comprehension of the concluding incidents of the great conflict. It is
doubtful if, in any other struggle of history, the hopes of a people
were more entirely wrapped up in a single individual. All criticisms
of the eminent soldier had long since been silenced, and it may,
indeed, be said that something like a superstitious confidence in his
fortunes had become widely disseminated. It was the general sentiment,
even when Lee himself saw the end surely approaching, that all was
safe while he remained in command of the army. This hallucination must
have greatly pained him, for no one ever saw more clearly, or was less
blinded by irrational confidence. Lee fully understood and represented
to the civil authorities--with whom his relations were perfectly
friendly and cordial--that if his lines were broken at any point, the
fate of the campaign was sealed. Feeling this truth, of which his
military sagacity left him in no doubt, he had to bear the further
weight of that general confidence which he did not share. He did not
complain, however, or in any manner indicate the desperate straits to
which he had come. He called for fresh troops to supply his losses;
when they did not arrive he continued to oppose his powerful adversary
with the remnant still at his command. These were now more like old
comrades than mere private soldiers under his orders. What was left
of the army was its best material. The fires of battle had tested the
metal, and that which emerged from the furnace was gold free from
alloy. The men remaining with Lee were those whom no peril of the
cause in which they were fighting could dishearten or prompt to desert
or even temporarily absent themselves from the Southern standard; and
this _corps d' elite_ was devoted wholly to their commander. For this
devotion they certainly had valid reason. Never had leader exhibited a
more systematic, unfailing, and almost tender care of his troops. Lee
seemed to feel that these veterans in their ragged jackets, with their
gaunt faces, were personal friends of his own, who were entitled to
his most affectionate exertions for their welfare. His calls on the
civil authorities in their behalf were unceasing. The burden of
these demands was that, unless his men's wants were attended to, the
Southern cause was lost; and it plainly revolted his sense of the
fitness of thi