(_Opens the door and steps back._)
_Conrad._ Behold! (_Throws off his masque and takes him by the throat._) Look in my face, and call my name!
_Alonzo._ Conrad!--Conrad! do not kill me, have mercy!
_Conrad._ Where is my wife? Now, villain! die!--die!--die!
(_Stabs him._)
Now, pray! if thou canst pray, now pray--now die!
Now, drink the wormwood which Eudora drank.
(_Stamps him._ Alonzo _dies_.)
(Conrad _rushes out and is seen no more_. Angeline, Alonzo's _wife, runs in the room, screams, and falls upon his breast_.)
_Angeline._ 'Tis he--'tis he--Conrad has kill'd Alonzo!
Oh! my husband! my husband! thou art dead!
'Tis he--'tis he--the wretch has kill'd Alonzo!
(_The doctor_, Alonzo's _brother, rushes in, crying "Murder!--murder!"
Watchmen and citizens rush in, crying "Murder! murder!_ Alonzo's _dead_! Alonzo's _dead_!")
_Citizens._ Who, under God's heaven, could have done this deed?
_Angeline._ 'Tis he--'tis he! Conrad has kill'd Alonzo!
_Watchmen._ Who did it? Speak! speak! Conrad kill'd Alonzo?
_Angeline._ Conrad--'twas Conrad, kill'd my husband! Dead!
Oh! death--death--death! What will become of me?
_Doctor._ Did you see his face? My God! I know 'twas he!
_Angeline._ I saw his face--I heard his voice--he's gone!
(Angeline _feels his pulse, while the rest look round_.)
Oh! my husband!--my husband!--death, death!
Speak, Alonzo! speak to Angeline--death!
Oh! speak one word, and tell me who it was!
(_Kisses him._)
No pulse--my husband's dead! He's gone!--he's gone!
(_Faints away on his breast. The watchmen and citizens take her into an adjoining room, bearing her husband with her--asking, "Who could have kill'd him? Speak_, Angeline--_speak_!")
_Curtain falls. End of Act III._
GEORGIA WATERS
[From _Nacoochee_ (New York, 1837)]
On thy waters, thy sweet valley waters, Oh! Georgia! how happy were we!
When thy daughters, thy sweet-smiling daughters, Once gathered sweet-william for me.
Oh! thy wildwood, thy dark shady wildwood Had many bright visions for me; For my childhood, my bright rosy childhood Was cradled, dear Georgia! in thee!
On thy mountains, thy green purple mountains, The seasons are waiting on thee; And thy fountains, thy clear crystal fountains Are making sweet music for me.
Oh! thy waters, thy sweet valley waters Are dearer than any to me; For thy daughters, thy sweet-smiling daughters, Oh! Georgia! give beauty to thee.
Transylvania University, 1830.
JEFFERSON DAVIS
Jefferson Davis, the first and only president of the Confederacy, was born in Christian, now Todd, county, Kentucky, June 3, 1808. During his infancy his family removed first to Louisiana and afterwards to Mississippi, locating near the village of Woodville. When but seven years old he was mounted on a pony and, with a company of travelers, rode back to Kentucky. He entered St. Thomas College, a Roman Catholic institution, near Springfield, Kentucky. This tiny, obscure "college"
was presided over by Dominicans, and Davis was the only Protestant boy in it. He spent two years at St. Thomas, when he returned home to be fitted for college. In October, 1821, when in his fourteenth year, Jefferson Davis arrived in Lexington, Kentucky, and matriculated in the academic department of Transylvania University. Horace Holley, surrounded with his famous faculty, was in charge of the University during Davis's student days. His favorite professor was Robert H.
Bishop, afterwards president of Miami University, Oxford, Ohio; and his fellow students included David Rice Atchison, George Wallace Jones, Gustavus A. Henry, and Belvard J. Peters, all subsequently in Congress or on the bench. When Davis was in the United States Senate he found five other Transylvania men in the same body. He made his home with old Joseph Ficklin, the Lexington postmaster, and three of the happiest years of his life were spent in the "Athens of the West." He left Transylvania at the end of his junior year in order to enter West Point, from which he was graduated in 1828. As Lieutenant Davis he was in Kentucky during the cholera-year of 1833, and he did all in his power to bury the dead and watch the dying. Near Louisville, on June 17, 1835, Davis was married to Miss Sarah Knox Taylor, second daughter of President Taylor, but within the year the fair young girl died. Davis was in the lower House of Congress, in 1845, as a Democrat; but in the following year he enlisted for service in the Mexican War, through which he served with great credit to himself and to his country. From 1847 to 1851 he was United States Senator from Mississippi; and from 1853 to 1857 he was Secretary of War in President Pierce's cabinet. Davis was immediately returned to the Senate, where he continued until January 21, 1861, when he bade the Senators farewell in a speech that has made him famous as an orator. Four weeks later he was inaugurated as provisional president of the Confederate States. On February 22, 1862, he was elected permanent president, and settled himself in the capitol at Richmond, Virginia. President Davis was arrested near Irwinville, Georgia, May 10, 1865, and for the next two years he was a prisoner in Fortress Monroe. He died at New Orleans, December 6, 1889, but in 1893 his body was removed to Richmond. As an author Davis's fame must rest on his _The Rise and Fall of the Confederate Government_ (New York, 1881, two vols.).
BIBLIOGRAPHY. _Jefferson Davis: A Memoir by his wife_, Mrs. V.
Jefferson Davis (New York 1890, two vols.); _Belford's Magazine_ (Jan., 1890); _Southern Statesmen of the Old Regime_, by W. P.
Trent (New York, 1897); _Jefferson Davis_, by W. E. Dodd (Philadelphia, 1907); _Statesmen of the Old South_, by W. E. Dodd (New York, 1911). Prof. W. L. Fleming, of Louisiana State University is now preparing what will be the most comprehensive and, perhaps, the definitive biography of Davis.
FROM FAREWELL SPEECH IN UNITED STATES SENATE ON JANUARY 21, 1861
[From _The Rise and Fall of the Confederate Government_ (New York, 1881, v. i.)]
It has been a conviction of pressing necessity, it has been a belief that we are to be deprived in the Union of the rights which our fathers bequeathed to us, which has brought Mississippi to her present decision. She has heard proclaimed the theory that all men are created free and equal, and this made the basis of an attack upon her social institutions; and the sacred Declaration of Independence has been invoked to maintain the position of the equality of the races. That Declaration of Independence is to be construed by the circumstances and purposes for which it was made. The communities were declaring their independence; the people of those communities were asserting that no man was born--to use the language of Mr. Jefferson--booted and spurred, to ride over the rest of mankind; that men were created equal--meaning the men of the political community; that there was no divine right to rule; that no man inherited the right to govern; that there were no classes by which power and place descended to families; but that all stations were equally within the grasp of each member of the body politic. These were the great principles they announced; these were the purposes for which they made their declaration; these were the ends to which their enunciation was directed. They have no reference to the slave; else, how happened it that among the items of arraignment against George III was that he endeavored to do just what the North has been endeavoring of late to do--to stir up insurrection among our slaves? Had the Declaration announced that the negroes were free and equal, how was the Prince to be arraigned for raising up insurrection among them? And how was this to be enumerated among the high crimes which caused the colonies to sever their connection with the mother country? When our Constitution was formed, the same idea was rendered more palpable; for there we find provision made for that very class of persons as property; they were not put upon the footing of equality with white men--not even upon that of paupers and convicts; but, so far as representation was concerned, were discriminated against as a lower caste, only to be represented in the numerical proportion of three fifths.
Then, Senators, we recur to the compact which binds us together; we recur to the principles upon which our Government was founded; and when you deny them, and when you deny to us the right to withdraw from a Government which, thus perverted, threatens to be destructive of our rights, we but tread in the path of our fathers when we proclaim our independence and take the hazard. This is done, not in hostility to others, not to injure any section of the country, not even for our own pecuniary benefit; but from the high and solemn motive of defending and protecting the rights we inherited, and which it is our sacred duty to transmit unshorn to our children.
I find in myself, perhaps, a type of the general feeling of my constituents towards yours. I am sure I feel no hostility towards you, Senators from the North. I am sure there is not one of you, whatever sharp discussion there may have been between us, to whom I cannot now say, in the presence of my God, I wish you well; and such, I am sure, is the feeling of the people whom I represent towards those whom you represent. I, therefore, feel that I but express their desire when I say I hope, and they hope, for peaceable relations with you, though we must part. They may be mutually beneficial to us in the future, as they have been in the past, if you so will it. The reverse may bring disaster on every portion of the country; and, if you will have it thus, we will invoke the God of our fathers, who delivered them from the power of the lion, to protect us from the ravages of the bear; and thus, putting our trust in God and in our own firm hearts and strong arms, we will vindicate the right as best we may.
In the course of my service here, associated at different times with a great variety of Senators, I see now around me some with whom I have served long; there have been points of collision; but, whatever of offense there has been to me, I leave here. I carry with me no hostile remembrance. Whatever offense I have given which has not been redressed, or for which satisfaction has not been demanded, I have, Senators, in this hour of our parting, to offer you my apology for any pain which, in heat of discussion, I have inflicted. I go hence unencumbered of the remembrance of any injury received, and having discharged the duty of making the only reparation in my power for any injury offered.
Mr. President and Senators, having made the announcement which the occasion seemed to me to require, it only remains for me to bid you a final adieu.
WILLIAM D. GALLAGHER