Recollections and Letters | Page 8

above all I remember my father, his gentle, loving care of me, his
bright talk, his stories, his maxims and teachings. I was very proud of
him and of the evident respect for and trust in him every one showed.
These impressions, obtained at that time, have never left me. He was a
great favourite in Baltimore, as he was everywhere, especially with
ladies and little children. When he and my mother went out in the
evening to some entertainment, we were often allowed to sit up and see
them off; my father, as I remember, always in full uniform, always
ready and waiting for my mother, who was generally late. He would
chide her gently, in a playful way and with a bright smile. He would
then bid us good- bye, and I would go to sleep with this beautiful
picture in my mind, the golden epaulets and all--chiefly the epaulets.
In Baltimore, I went to my first school, that of a Mr. Rollins on
Mulberry Street, and I remember how interested my father was in my
studies, my failures, and my little triumphs. Indeed, he was so always,
as long as I was at school and college, and I only wish that all of the
kind, sensible, useful letters he wrote me had been preserved.
My memory as to the move from Baltimore, which occurred in 1852, is
very dim. I think the family went to Arlington to remain until my father
had arranged for our removal to the new home at West Point.
My recollection of my father as Superintendent of the West Point
Military Academy is much more distinct. He lived in the house which
is still occupied by the Superintendent. It was built of stone, large and
roomy, with gardens, stables, and pasture lots. We, the two youngest
children, enjoyed it all. "Grace Darling" and "Santa Anna" were there
with us, and many a fine ride did I have with my father in the
afternoons, when, released from his office, he would mount his old
mare and, with Santa Anna carrying me by his side, take a five or

ten-mile trot. Though the pony cantered delightfully, he would make
me keep him in a trot, saying playfully that the hammering sustained
was good for me. We rode the dragoon-seat, no posting, and until I
became accustomed to it I used to be very tired by the time I got back.
My father was the most punctual man I ever knew. He was always
ready for family prayers, for meals, and met every engagement, social
or business, at the moment. He expected all of us to be the same, and
taught us the use and necessity of forming such habits for the
convenience of all concerned. I never knew him late for Sunday service
at the Post Chapel. He used to appear some minutes before the rest of
us, in uniform, jokingly rallying my mother for being late, and for
forgetting something at the last moment. When he could wait no longer
for her, he would say that he was off and would march along to church
by himself, or with any of the children who were ready. There he sat
very straight--well up the middle aisle--and, as I remember, always
became very sleepy, and sometimes even took a little nap during the
sermon. At that time, this drowsiness of my father's was something
awful to me, inexplicable. I know it was very hard for me to keep
awake, and frequently I did not; but why he, who to my mind could do
everything right, without any effort, should sometimes be overcome, I
could not understand, and did not try to do so.
It was against the rules that the cadets should go beyond certain limits
without permission. Of course they did go sometimes, and when caught
were given quite a number of "demerits." My father was riding out one
afternoon with me, and, while rounding a turn in the mountain road
with a deep woody ravine on one side, we came suddenly upon three
cadets far beyond the limits. They immediately leaped over a low wall
on the side of the road and disappeared from our view.
We rode on for a minute in silence; then my father said: "Did you know
those young men? But no; if you did, don't say so. I wish boys would
do what was right, it would be so much easier for all parties!"
He knew he would have to report them, but, not being sure of who they
were, I presume he wished to give them the benefit of the doubt. At any
rate, I never heard any more about it. One of the three asked me the

next day if my father had recognised them, and I told him