The Iola register., 1882-04-21
WHITE HYACINTHS.

OASS
London Society.
WHITE HYACINTHS.
Founded ON Fact.
Seventy years ago, or thereabout, in
the early spring of each year, when the
hyacinths and jonquils were in bloom. a
tall, stately and beautiful old lady would
drive up in her coach-and-four every
Sunday to the door of one of the old
colonial churches in Virginia to attend
divine service after the ritual of the
Episcopal Church. She always came in
grand style, coach-and-four, footman,
driver and outrider, as became grand
dame of the old noblesse. The sight Of
that old yellow-bodied coach, with its
armorial quarterings in silver on panels
and harness, always seemed the realiza.
tion of the old nursery lullaby:
Hush-a-bye, don't you cry
Hush-s-bye, my darling.
You shall have your coach-and-four
To ride like Becky Boiling;
which has been sung to thousands and
hundreds of thousands of children in the
Old Dominion, where folklore and nur
sery traditions have held a potent sway
for two hundred years. But the old lady
of this story was not Becky Boiling,
whose glories were sung in nursery song;
as incentives to virtue and good deeds
although she may have been blood
relative of the princely house of Boiling
on the theory of the old Virginia lady
who once said to Knickerbocker who
had expressed surprise at the remarkable
,consanguinity among Virginians: ''Why,
my dear sir, you need not be surprised
there is nothing remarkable in it, because,
in Virginia, we are all descended from
one common stock, while in New York
they are descended from different ma.
tionalities. In Virginia, everybody who
is anybody at all, is kin to everybody
who is anybody"
At all events, it is certain that Becky
Boiling, the belle and heiress of her day
and time, belonged to the aristeia of SO.
-ciety; and so did the old lady in ques-
ton. But their supremacy was at long
intervals apart, Becky having been s
belle when General Washington was q
beau in his prime, while our old lady
lived until after the Revolution, and had
seen the establishment of Church and
State follow the fortunes of the ther
young republic; had seen most of the
parsons sent by the Crown to officiate in
the parish churches turn to be as great
rebels as Patrick Henry or Mr.. Wythe.
She had sat under the preaching of tha
good man Parson Jarrett, who had iveC
at Annsville, the family seat of a promi
nent family, until he married and wen
to Gunshill, presented to him by his par
ishoners after he had welded wife. St
the old lady lived long after Becky Boil
ing, and was much beloved and respected
rs the heroine of the nursery rhyme.
The old lady had history, . sad, sor
rowful history; heart history, rackins
and wrecking in its violence. But she
outlived it like the prisoner of Chillon
she was too brave to succumb. and lived
through it all.
She was a marvel to look at IS she
would descend from her coach at the Ole
church door-and everybody in those
days did not ride in coaches. She came
out to church only in the early spring
when the dainty white hyacinths wers
in bloom; when the jonquii and mar
cissus, the daffodil and the lilac filed tn.
air with their modest fragrance; befor'
the gaudy rose and the ruby-lipped tulil
had opened their intoxicating cups. Th'
old lady always wore . bunch of white
hyacinths at her throat, and carried then
in her hand. She was never seen with
out them; and she consequently nevel
appeared in public except in the season
of these blessed flowers. All, to see hel
descend from her coach at the church
door, with number of gentlemen offer
ing their gallant services to assist her tt
descend from the coach, gallant Gus
tom unknown everywhere but in Vir
ginia-for it was not considered proper
for servant to touch the hand of hi
mistress; to see her enter the old church
with its high-back pews and modest
chancel: its painted gothic windows and
high pulpit, reaching almost to the cell
ing; to see her stately form sweep grand
ly down the aisle, arrayed in the rches
black velvet and point d'Angleterre,
with court train flowing in rich, ample
folds behind; velvet hat and plumes sur
mounting her crown of snow-white hair
to see her benignant, lovely face and
jeweled hand reverentiady ciasping ths
Book of Common Prayer, and to see the
inseparable bunch of white hyacinth'
always at her throat, and to see her en-
ter the old-fashioned pew and knee
with face to the altar and pray, oh, i
was like q revelation of the beauty oa
piety and reverence for the sanctuary o.
God.
But with the season of hyacinths the
old lady departed and did not reappear