Without the least “variableness or shadow of turning,” her excellencies were a perfect continuity, and her deeds of charity a blessing to all in need within her reach. No undertaking seemed too great for her, and no details—affecting the comfort of her home, family, friends or servants—too small for her supervision.
The church—a few miles distant, the object of her care and love—received at her hands constant and valuable aid, and its minister generally formed one of her family circle.
No wonder then that the home of such a woman should have been a favorite resort with all who had the privilege of knowing her. And no wonder that all who enjoyed her charming hospitality were spell-bound, nor wished to leave the spot.
In addition to the qualities I have attempted to describe, this lady inherited from her father—General B.—an executive talent which enabled her to order and arrange perfectly her domestic affairs, so that from the delicious viands upon her table to the highly polished oak of the floors, all gave evidence of her superior management, and the admirable training of her servants.
Nor were the hospitalities of this establishment dispensed to the gay and great alone; but shared alike by the homeless, the friendless, and many a weary heart found sympathy and shelter there.
Well! Oaklands was famous for many things: its fine light bread; its cinnamon cakes; its beat biscuit; its fricasseed chicken; its butter and cream; its wine sauces; its plum puddings; its fine horses; its beautiful meadows; its sloping green hills, and last, but not least, its refined and agreeable society collected from every part of our own State, and often from others.
For an epicure no better place could have been desired. And this reminds me of a retired army officer—an epicure of the first water—we often met there, whose sole occupation was visiting his friends, and only subjects of conversation the best viands and the best manner of cooking them! When asked whether he remembered certain agreeable people at a certain place, he would reply: “Yes, I dined there ten years ago, and the turkey was very badly cooked—not quite done enough!” The turkey evidently having made a more lasting impression than the people.
This gentleman lost an eye at the battle of Chapultepec, having been among the first of our gallant men who scaled the walls. But a young girl of his acquaintance always said she knew it was not bravery so much as “curiosity” which led him to “go peeping over the walls, first man!” This was a heartless speech, but everybody repeated it and laughed, for the Colonel was a man of considerable “curiosity!”
Like all old homes, Oaklands had its bright as well as its sorrowful days—its weddings and its funerals. Many yet remember the gay wedding of one there whose charms brought suitors by the score, and won hearts by the dozen. The brilliant career of this young lady, her conquests and wonderful fascinations, behold, are they not all written upon the hearts and memories of divers rejected suitors who still survive?
And apropos of weddings. An old fashioned Virginia wedding was an event to be remembered. The preparations usually commenced several weeks before, with saving eggs, butter, chickens, &c., after which ensued the liveliest egg-beating; butter-creaming; raisin-stoning; sugar-pounding; cake-icing; salad-chopping; cocoanut-grating; lemon squeezing; egg-frothing; wafer-making; pastry-baking; jelly-straining; paper-cutting; silver-cleaning; floor-rubbing; dress making; hair-curling; lace-washing; ruffle-crimping; tarletan-smoothing; guests-arriving; servants-running; trunk-moving; girls laughing!