The gold leaf. [volume] (Henderson, N.C.) 1881-1911, 1899-02-02
THE DEATH OF En1A ABBOTT.
How the Queen of the Lyric Stage
Sang the Consumptive's Requiem
and Her Own Dirge.
(H. Z. Stevenson. OF Dallas, Texas, In
Atlanta Constitution

Oh. Z. Stevenson. OF Dallas, Texas, in
Atlanta Constitutionl
There was time, it was not many
years ago, when every city in the
South looked forward with emotions
of pleasure to the coming of Emma
Abbott Every admirer of grand
opera regarded it as an epoch Of the
year. But aside from her extraor-
dinary talent and culture, our most
aristocratic ladies loved her for her
virtue-her charity and her gentle
disposition-and when in town she
was showered with invitation so dino,
to tea and to come and spend only
few moments in the most palatial
homes.
Her rebuke to the Nashville
preacher is still remembered and
often spoken of when her name is
mentioned. This pure woman one
Sunday morning attended church in
that city. Whether the minister
knew she was there, and who she
was, has been asserted and denied;
ANYHOW, in the course OF his sermon
he denounced all women on the stage
as fallen and wanting in chastity.
Miss Abbott at once arose in the
audience and, after challenging the
truth of this monstrous assertion and
slander, walked out of the house.
1t is, however, not with her life so
much as with her death l am trying
to deal. One night in the city of
Denver, Col, locateded at the foot
and in plain view of the Rocky
Mountains, she was billed to appear
in Faust" In the same city most
attractive and beautiful 1S-year-old
girl, belonging to one of the wealth.
lest families, lay in the last stages of
that fell enemy of the human race
consumption. Some weeks before
the arrival Of the company she said
to those around her: "Oh, l hope
the sun will shine and the weather
will be warm and genial so l can
hear Miss Abbott sing once more.
think could then pass away peace
fully and without one single regret.
But there came with the queen of the
lyric stage a Northern hurricane
with the very air charged with lcicles
which penetrated the lungs. Some
one told Miss Abbott of the grievous
disappointment of the dying girl.
She went to the opera house and
never sang more sweetly, and as
soon as it was over and the audience
dismissed, she called her carriage and
directed it to drive to the beautiful
home of the young lady. Or course
oly
room. and told her she had come to
crafty her wish.
The scene which followed was
worthy of the finest brush ever
welded by the grand old masters.
There lay the dying earth-angel with
pallid lips, hectic cheeks and lustrous
eyes and the light of immortal
beauty shining upon her face. Stand
ing beside her in one of her richest
robes (the one she had worn that
night,) sparkling with pearls rubles
and diamonds, stood the almost dl-
vine mistress of earthly melody.
The first piece rendered was 1.-The
Old Folks at Home" and then follow
ed Il Know Nv Redeemer Liveth.
| The finale of this weird scene was
Crock of Ages, Cleft for Me, Let Me
Hide Myself in Thee" And then
Miss Abbott bent over the frail form
| and kissed her an eternal farewell.
Soon after the spirit passed into the
| wild winds which rang through the
mountains near by-set sail Tor that
haven from which the first homeward
bound bark is yet to be seen-the
stainless heavens by the sweetest
music ever heard on earth-lnto the
melodies of paradise birds.
Miss Abbott returned to her room
at the hotel and retired. Some time
during the night she awoke with
dreadful pain in the left lung. 1t
rapidly grew worse-a physician was
Standardization another and an
other. who applied every remedy
they could command. all to no pur-
pose. 1t was typhoid pneumonia IN
I it's worst form. The black Gamer
was kneeling at her door. Angels OF
the Heavenly choir had that night
| listened to her voice in the sick room
and sent for her to come home to
| them.
In three days that voice which had
so often raised the souls of men and
women to the noblest, the grandest
heights in holy ecstacy, was forever
stilled in death-gone forth into
the night.
| .'So fades the summer cloud away.
| So sinks the gale when storms are DER
50 dies the wave along the shore.