Recollections and Letters | Page 7

of
Vera Cruz, he sends this message to Spec....
"Tell him I wish he was here with me. He would have been of great
service in telling me when I was coming upon the Mexicans. When I
was reconnoitering around Vera Cruz, their dogs frequently told me by
barking when I was approaching them too nearly...."
When he returned to Arlington from Mexico, Spec was the first to
recognise him, and the extravagance of his demonstrations of delight
left no doubt that he knew at once his kind master and loving friend,
though he had been absent three years. Sometime during our residence
in Baltimore, Spec disappeared, and we never knew his fate.
From that early time I began to be impressed with my father's character,
as compared with other men. Every member of the household respected,
revered and loved him as a matter of course, but it began to dawn on
me that every one else with whom I was thrown held him high in their
regard. At forty-five years of age he was active, strong, and as
handsome as he had ever been. I never remember his being ill. I
presume he was indisposed at times; but no impressions of that kind
remain. He was always bright and gay with us little folk, romping,
playing, and joking with us. With the older children, he was just as
companionable, and the have seen him join my elder brothers and their
friends when they would try their powers at a high jump put up in our

yard. The two younger children he petted a great deal, and our greatest
treat was to get into his bed in the morning and lie close to him,
listening while he talked to us in his bright, entertaining way. This
custom we kept up until I was ten years old and over. Although he was
so joyous and familiar with us, he was very firm on all proper
occasions, never indulged us in anything that was not good for us, and
exacted the most implicit obedience. I always knew that it was
impossible to disobey my father. I felt it in me, I never thought why,
but was perfectly sure when he gave an order that it had to be obeyed.
My mother I could sometimes circumvent, and at times took liberties
with her orders, construing them to suit myself; but exact obedience to
every mandate of my father was part of my life and being at that time.
He was very fond of having his hands tickled, and, what was still more
curious, it pleased and delighted him to take off his slippers and place
his feet in our laps in order to have them tickled. Often, as little things,
after romping all day, the enforced sitting would be too much for us,
and our drowsiness would soon show itself in continued nods. Then, to
arouse, us, he had a way of stirring us up with his foot--laughing
heartily at and with us. He would often tell us the most delightful
stories, and then there was no nodding. Sometimes, however, our
interest in his wonderful tales became so engrossing that we would
forget to do our duty--when he would declare, "No tickling, no story!"
When we were a little older, our elder sister told us one winter the
ever-delightful "Lady of the Lake." Of course, she told it in prose and
arranged it to suit our mental capacity. Our father was generally in his
corner by the fire, most probably with a foot in either the lap of myself
or youngest sister--the tickling going on briskly--and would come in at
different points of the tale and repeat line after line of the poem-- much
to our disapproval--but to his great enjoyment.
In January, 1849, Captain Lee was one of a board of army officers
appointed to examine the coasts of Florida and its defenses and to
recommend locations for new fortifications. In April he was assigned to
the duty of the construction of Fort Carroll, in the Patapsco River
below Baltimore. He was there, I think, for three years, and lived in a
house on Madison Street, three doors above Biddle. I used to go down
with him to the Fort quite often. We went to the wharf in a "bus," and

there we were met by a boat with two oarsmen, who rowed us down to
Sollers Point, where I was generally left under the care of the people
who lived there, while my father went over to the Fort, a short distance
out in the river. These days were happy ones for me. The wharves, the
shipping, the river, the boat and oarsmen, and the country dinner we
had at the house at Sollers Point, all made a strong impression on me;
but