By nine o’clock we reached a farm-house, whose inmates, without many troublesome inquiries, agreed to feed our half-starved horses and give us some breakfast.  My noble Selim sorely needed food and grooming, and I could not but wish for a few days of rest for him.  He had been my companion in many a wild dash, and had learned to respond to my patting of his finely-arched neck with a pricking up of his ears and a toss of his head, as much as to say, “I am ready.”  When first I formed Selim’s acquaintance he was wild and self-willed, and, as already related, gave me a blow upon the knee from which I have not yet entirely recovered.  But I had long ago forgiven him this unkindness, for he had carried me through all that terrible retreat from Nashville, had never failed me when a hard and hazardous scout was on hand, had stood quietly at Corinth while I lost two of his companions on the battle-field of Shiloh, and then, as if grateful that I had saved him from their fate, he ever after served me with entire docility.  At Selma he bore me on many a pleasant jaunt beside some fair one of that pleasant town, and now he was with proud step bearing me toward my long-desired home.  Did he not deserve my special care?’

Everybody we met was Secession, and took for granted we were.  Was I not demonstrating my sentiments, by seceding from a government which affirmed the right in its fundamental law?

By the way, if the South could make good their present effort for an independent national existence, they would immediately change that provision by which they allow each State to withdraw at pleasure.  The impression among the thinking minds with them is already fixed, that the principle is destructive of all permanent national authority, and existence even.  A practical and almost fatal illustration of the principle of secession was given at Corinth just after the battle of Shiloh.

The Arkansas authorities, fearing the power of the Federal forces, required all the troops from their State to return home and protect their own citizens.  General Hindman, who commanded the Arkansas troops, was in favor of returning to their own State; but Beauregard, as commander-in-chief of the Western army, resisted the demand.  Excitement ran high, and mutiny was imminent for some days.  Nothing but the resolute bearing of General Beauregard, threatening to shoot the first man who should attempt to leave, saved the Rebel army from destruction; for if the troops of one State had been allowed to withdraw on the plea of protecting their own borders, why should not all?  This was well-understood, and hence resisted resolutely and successfully.  At a later day, and as if in pursuance of a general plan, the Arkansas troops did go home; and thus they avoided a mutiny, which, had it been fully developed, would have involved at least 10,000 men.  So rigid is the surveillance of the press, that no publication, so far as I know, was ever made of this affair, which threatened the disintegration of the whole Rebel army.