ALFRED DOUGLAS, JR.
By Capt. Franklin Ellis219
Alfred Douglas, Jr., was born in New York city, in 1829, and died at his country residence, at Copake, N. Y., Tuesday, Oct. 3, 1876, at the age of forty-seven years. He was the first son of Earl Douglas, who was of old Scottish ancestry, of which history has recorded so many valiant deeds. The genealogy of the Douglas family is of great historic interest, embracing as it does the name of Richard Douglas, one of the Pilgrims, who came from Scotland to this country in the year 1649, landing at Plymouth, Mass., and subsequently settling in New London, Conn. The Revolutionary fame of Captain Richard Douglas, who was a lieutenant in the regiment commanded by Marquis de Lafayette, is recorded in "Marshall's Life of Washington." To all who knew him, Alfred Douglas, Jr., was synonymous with all that was generous and good. In person he was remarkably handsome, and one upon whom there seemed to rest the seal of royalty both in looks and bearing. True to the noble name from which he descended, he was always dignified and kind. In his business and in his social life he was universally respected and admired. His Revolutionary blood entitled him to a membership of the Cincinnati society,--a position of which he was justly proud. Mr. Douglas' country home embraced a large tract of land, lying one half in Massachusetts, the other in Columbia Co., New York State, surrounded on every side by those beautiful mountains so often made the subject of song by our American poets, and there he spent the greater portion of his leisure time, embellishing and beautifying. The charming spot he selected was one of which nature had well-nigh exhausted her lavish hand, and it was his pride and happiness to seek this new Switzerland and gaze upon its picturesque scenery and the beautiful and artistic buildings with which he had surrounded it. The well-known Bash-Bish Falls, so frequently painted by eminent artists, he considered the gem of his place, and the music of its waters had an untold charm for his refined taste. It was listening to the roar of that cataract and under the shade of those mountains that he threw aside the veil of this world, and passed into the great unknown calmly and peacefully as a tired child, happy in the full consciousness and belief of the redemption of souls by our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. His departure has made a void which cannot be filled, and his image will never fade away so long as the incense of memory burns upon the altars of hearts that loved him.