“Such is the end of the great army which, organized by the extraordinary genius of one man, aided by several other commanders of eminent ability, has done such wonders in this war.  Not even the Grand Army of Napoleon himself could count a series of more brilliant victories than the force which, raised chiefly from the high-spirited population of Virginia, has defeated so many invasions of the State, and crushed the hopes of so many Northern generals.  Chief and soldiers have now failed for the first and last time.  They were victorious until victory was no longer to be achieved by human valour, and then they fell with honour[1286].”

The people of the North, also, were complimented for their slowly developed but ultimate ability in war, and especially for “a patience, a fortitude, and an energy which entitle them to rank among the very first of military nations[1287].”  No one remained to uphold the Southern banner in Europe save the Confederate agents, and, privately, even they were hopeless.  Mason, it is true, asserted, as if bolstering his own courage, that “this morning’s” news did not mean an overwhelming disaster; it could not be wholly true; even if true it must mean peace on the basis of separation; finally, “5th. I know that no terms of peace would be accepted that did not embrace independence.”  But at the conclusion of this letter he acknowledged: 

“I confess that all this speculation rests on, what I assume, that Lee surrendered only in expectation of a peace derived from his interview with Grant—­and that no terms of peace would be entertained that did not rest on independence[1288].”

But Slidell saw more clearly.  He replied: 

“I cannot share your hopefulness.  We have seen the beginning of the end.  I, for my part, am prepared for the worst.  With Lee’s surrender there will soon be an end to our regular organized armies and I can see no possible good to result from a protracted guerilla warfare.  We are crushed and must submit to the yoke.  Our children must bide their time for vengeance, but you and I will never revisit our homes under our glorious flag.  For myself I shall never put my foot on a soil from which flaunts the hated Stars and Stripes....  I am sick, sick at heart[1289].”

The news of Lee’s surrender arrived at the same moment with that of a serious injury to Seward in a runaway accident, and in its editorial on the end of the war the Times took occasion to pay a tribute to the statesman whom it had been accustomed to berate.

“There seems to be on the part of President Lincoln a desire to conciliate vanquished fellow-citizens.  Under the guidance of Mr. Seward, who has creditably distinguished himself in the Cabinet by his moderate counsels, and whose life will, we trust, be spared at this crisis to the Union, he may by gentle measures restore tranquillity, and perhaps, before his term of