A Military Genius | Page 9

cared neither for dancing, drawing, music, or needlework. She used to boast to her sisters that she had made a shirt beautifully when ten years old; but they would smile at the idea, as they had never seen her handle a needle and could associate her only with books.
These were to her of absorbing interest, and books, too, of a grave and thoughtful character. Alison's History and Kant's Philosophy were her favorite reading at eleven years of age. She read fiction to some extent, under her father's direction; but, with the exception of Shakespeare and Scott, she never cared for it. While other girls of her age were entranced by Sir Charles Grandison and fascinated by the heroes of Bulwer's earlier novels, she turned from them to read Coke and Blackstone with her father, and followed with him the political debates and discussions of the day. She studied with lively interest the principles and events which led to the separation of the Colonists from the Mother Country, and buried herself in theological questions. At a very early age her letters bore reference to the gravest subjects. Imagination was never prominent; her mind was essentially analytical. Pure reason and clear consecutive argument delighted her, and works of that nature were eagerly sought by her.
Her life passed largely in her father's excellent library, which was well stocked with classic works, both history, biography, philosophy, and poetry, and her education was to him a constant delight.
Miss Carroll's early associates were the children of the neighboring proprietors, the Handys, the Wilsons, the Gales, the Henrys, etc., and she early made acquaintance with the distinguished men who where her father's associates.
Mr. Carroll continued to serve in the Legislature until elected Governor of Maryland, in 1829. On this occasion he received an interesting letter from Charles Carroll, of Carrollton, congratulating him and expressing his pride and gratification at the event. When Governor Thomas King Carroll went to Annapolis, in performance of the duties of his office, he was accompanied by Mrs. Carroll, with the younger children and a group of servants under the superintendence of the invaluable Mammy. Mrs. Carroll, by her beauty and accomplishments, was well fitted to adorn her station. When the weather became warm she returned with her children to Kingston Hall.
The following charming letters from Miss Carroll, then a girl of fourteen, show the tenderness of the relation between father and child, and at how early an age she interested herself in politics and entered into the questions of the day:
KINGSTON HALL, Jan. 20, 1830.
My Precious Father:
My dearest mother received your letter on Monday, and we were all happy to know you had arrived safely at the seat of government, although the Annapolis paper had previously announced it.
Oh! my dear father, if I could but see you! I miss you--we all miss you--beyond measure. The time passes tediously without you.
I have just read Governor Martin's last message.[1] I think it quite well written. I wondered to see it published in the Telegraph [an opposition paper, I suppose]. I am anxious to see what the Eastern papers say of your election. Please, dear father, when anything relating to your political action is published, whether in the form of a message, in pamphlet, or in newspaper, do not fail to let us have them. I read with so much pride your letter in the Annapolis paper. It merits all the distinction and fame it has brought you. Too much could not be said in praise of my noble father. Dr. K---- was here to-day. He says they feel "quite exalted" to be so near neighbors to a Governor.
When do you think the Legislature will rise? But I must not write on political subjects only. Brother is delighted with his new horse. The little children are begging dearest mother to write you for them. May every blessing attend you, my precious father. Be sure and write me a long letter.
Your devoted daughter,
A. E. CARROLL.
[Footnote 1: He was Governor Carroll's predecessor.]
KINGSTON HALL, Feb. 17, 1830.
My Beloved Father:
Again we are disappointed in your arrival home! and how disappointed no tongue can tell. Dearest mother thought it possible you might come on a little visit, even if the Legislature did not rise.[2] You said in your last letter to me that this was "probable." Why did you not say "certain?" Then I would rejoice, for when my father says a thing is certain, I know it is certain. I am happy to tell you that I am much better; have had a long and tedious spell. I would lie for hours and think of you away from me, and if I had not the kindest and tenderest mother to care for me and for us all, what should we do. I understand that your appointments have not been