he had bought in Texas on his way out to Mexico, her owner having
died on the march out. She was with him during the entire campaign,
and was shot seven times; at least, as a little fellow I used to
brag about that number of bullets being in her, and since I could
point out the scars of each one, I presume it was so. My father was
very much attached to her and proud of her, always petting her and
talking to her in a loving way, when he rode her or went to see her
in her stall. Of her he wrote on his return home:

"I only arrived yesterday, after a long journey up the Mississippi,
which route I was induced to take, for the better accommodation of my
horse, as I wished to spare her as much annoyance and fatigue as
possible, she already having undergone so much suffering in my service.
I landed her at Wheeling and left her to come over with Jim."

Santa Anna was found lying cold and dead in the park at Arlington one
morning in the winter of '60-'61. Grace Darling was taken in the
spring of '62 from the White House [My brother's place on the Pamunkey
River, where the mare had been sent for save keeping."] by some
Federal quartermaster, when McClellan occupied that place as his base
of supplies during his attack on Richmond. When we lived in Baltimore,
I was greatly struck one day by hearing two ladies who were visiting
us saying:

"Everybody and everything--his family, his friends, his horse, and
his dog--loves Colonel Lee."

The dog referred to was a black-and-tan terrier named "Spec," very
bright and intelligent and really a member of the family, respected
and beloved by ourselves and well known to all who knew us. My father