six months following April 1, 1862, were doubtless, from his own
point of view, the most satisfactory part of his career as
Confederate President. These months were indeed filled with
peril. There was a time when McClellan's advance up the Peninsula
appeared so threatening that the archives of the Government were
packed on railway cars prepared for immediate removal should
evacuation be necessary. There were the other great disasters
during that year, including the loss of New Orleans. The
President himself experienced a profound personal sorrow in the
death of his friend, Albert Sidney Johnston, in the bloody fight
at Shiloh. It was in the midst of this time that tried men's
souls that the Richmond Examiner achieved an unenvied
immortality for one of its articles on the Administration. At a
moment when nothing should have been said to discredit in any way
the struggling Government, it described Davis as weak with fear
telling his beads in a corner of St. Paul's Church. This paper,
along with the Charleston Mercury, led the Opposition. Throughout
Confederate history these two, which were very ably edited, did
the thinking for the enemies of Davis. We shall meet them time
and again.

A true picture of Davis would have shown the President resolute
and resourceful, at perhaps the height of his powers. He
recruited and supplied the armies; he fortified Richmond; he
sustained the great captain whom he had placed in command while
McClellan was at the gates. When the tide had turned and the Army
of the Potomac sullenly withdrew, baffled, there occurred the one
brief space in Confederate history that was pure sunshine. In
this period took place the splendid victory of Second Manassas.
The strong military policy of the Administration had given the