faltering voices not to expose himself, for, if he were killed, all would be lost.  The troops followed him with their eyes, or their cheers, whenever he appeared, feeling a singular sense of confidence from the presence of the gray-haired soldier in his plain uniform, and assured that, as long as Lee led them, the cause was safe.  All classes of the people thus regarded the fate of the Confederacy as resting, not partially, but solely, upon the shoulders of Lee; and, although he was not entitled by his rank in the service to direct operations in other quarters than Virginia, there was a very general desire that the whole conduct of the war everywhere should be intrusted to his hands.  This was done, as will be seen, toward 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