my of General Sidney Johnston retreated to the Tennessee
River in the spring of that year. By the death of President Lincoln,
Andrew Johnson had succeeded to power, and he was from Tennessee, and
the personal enemy of Governor Harris. The relations of their State with
the Federal Union had been restored, and Harris's return would be
productive of discord rather than peace. I urged him to leave the
country for a time, and offered to aid him in crossing the Mississippi
River; but he was very unwilling to go, and only consented after a
matter was arranged, which I anticipate the current of events to relate.
He had brought away from Nashville the coin of the Bank of Tennessee,
which, as above mentioned, was now in our camp. An official of the bank
had always been in immediate charge of this coin, but Harris felt that
honor was involved in its safe return. At my request, General Canby
detailed an officer and escort to take the coin to Nashville, where it
arrived intact; but the unhappy official accompanying it was
incarcerated for his fidelity. Had he betrayed his trust, he might have
received rewards instead of stripes. 'Tis dangerous to be out of harmony
with the practices of one's time.

Intelligence of the Johnston-Sherman convention reached us, and Canby
and I were requested by the officers making it to conform to its terms
until the civil authorities acted. A meeting was arranged to take place
a few miles north of Mobile, where the appearance of the two parties
contrasted the fortunes of our respective causes. Canby, who preceded me
at the appointed spot, a house near the railway, was escorted by a
brigade with a military band, and accompanied by many officers in "full
fig." With one officer, Colonel William Levy, since a member of Congress
from Louisiana, I made my appearance on a hand-car, the motive power of
which was two negroes. Descendants of the ancient race of Abraham,
dealers in cast-off raiment, would have scorned to bargain for our rusty
suits of Confederate gray. General Canby met me with much urbanity. We
retired to a room, and in a few moments agreed upon a truce, terminable
after forty-eight hours' notice by either party. Then, rejoining the
throng of officers, introductions and many pleasant civilities passed. I
was happy to recognize Commodore (afterward Admiral) James Palmer, an
old friend. He was second to Admiral Thatcher, commanding United States
squadron in Mobile Bay, and had come to meet me. A bo