The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1882-04-22
WHITE HYACINTHs.
Founded on Fact.

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-foIir, 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-
ton Of the old nursery lullaby:
HuSh-a-bye, don't you cry ... ... ..
HuSh-a-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 kaye 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 songs
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 a Knickerbocker who
had expressed surprise at the remarkable
sconSanguinity 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
.Qne 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 a
belle when General Washington was a
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 then
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 that
good man Parson Jarrett, who had lived
at Annsville, the family seat of promi-
nent family, until he married and went
to Gunshill, presented to him by his par
ishoners after he had welded wife. So
the old lady lived long after Becky Boil
ing, and was much beloved and respected
as the heroine of the nursery rhyme.
The old lady had a history, sad, sor-
rowful history; heart history, racking
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 as she
would descend from her coach at the old
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 were
in bloom; when the jonquil and mar
cissus, the daffodil and the lilac filled the
air with their modest fragrance; before
the gaudy rose and the ruby-lipped tulip
had opened their Intoxicating cups. The
old lady always wore bunch of white
hyacinths at her throat, and carried them
in her hand She was never seen with
out them; and she consequently never
appeared in public except in the season
of these blessed flowers. All, to see her
descend from her coach at the church
door, with number of gentlemen offer
ing their gallant services to assist her to
descend from the coach, a gallant Gus
tom unknown everywhere but in Vir-
ginia-for it was not considered proper
for a servant to touch the hand of his
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
~ down the aisle, arrayed in the richest
black velvet and point d'Angleterre,
with court train flowing in rich, ample
folds behind; velvet hat and pllimes sur
mounting hercrown of snow-white hair,
to see her benignant, lovely face and
jeweled hand reverentially clasping the
Book of Common Prayer, and to see the
inseparable bunch of white hyacinths
always at her throat, and to see her en-
ter the old-fashioned pew and kneel
with face to the altar and pray, oh, it
was like a revelation, of the beauty of
piety and reverence for the sanctuary of
,Godg. t,u, y 4.l5 ..af 4.
But with the season of hyacinths the
old lady departed and did not reappear
until the springtime .was-again ushered
in with all its sweets and flowers. Her
face was color1ess as the flowers she
wore, a pure, highbred absence of color
that came from perfect repose and purity
OF heart. For fifty years no one had
ever seen her agitated or heard her utter
a hard or unkind word to. man or beast.
The storm had done its worst, and had
passed over her, leaving. her apparently
dead as the marble she looked like. She
led a life of utter calm and stagnant