The subject of this sketch, was one of eight brothers,
distinguished for their height, their erectness, their handsome personal
appearance, and their manliness. The smallest of this fraternal band,
was six feet one and a half inches tall — the largest, six feet four
inches. Born in the northern part of Ireland, but of immediate Scotch
descent, they were in physical stature and bearing the very type of the
historic family of "Black Douglas," to which they belonged, and in their
uncompromising spirit they seemingly embodied much of that courage and
independence which kept the hills of Scotland so long free, and to whose
keeping, in the person of James Douglas, Robert Bruce bequeathed his
heart in trust.
Robert Douglas was tall and stately, with dark
complexion, black hair, brilliant dark hazel eyes, and a mouth denoting
firmness of purpose ; which, added to the dignity of his carriage, made
up the measure of a very handsome man. In his boyhood he was conspicuous
for his swiftness of foot, for daring horsemanship, and for various
kinds of manly accomplishments. In the northern part of Ireland, a ditch
which was the scene of a fearful leap by him when a school-boy, still
bears his name. Robert, full of the spirit of adventure, left home at
the early age of sixteen, and parting from his father and mother, and
brothers, he determined to seek that fortune and freedom in America
which the oppression of England denies the youth of Ireland. Reared in
comfort by a father of respectable means, and cared for fondly by an
affectionate mother, his natural independence and self-reliance had been
nurtured and not smothered, and it must have been strong indeed when it
impelled him to abandon the home he loved, to go so far away as America
seemed then, and among a people to whom he was an entire stranger. But
he came. Three of his brothers afterward followed him. One of them fell,
it is believed, at Buena Vista, in command of a company of infantry ;
another died of yellow fever. But two of the eight now remain : one in
Mississippi, the other in Ireland.
As soon as his feet
touched the shores of the United States, Robert Douglas sought
employment ; at first as a store-hoy, afterward as a clerk, and then as
a merchant. He was always busily occupied, and yet he did not neglect
the cultivation of his mind. He was a great reader of books, and held
frequent intercourse with the muses. His poetical effusions, which would
have made a volume, and which disappeared mysteriously a few years ago,
doubtless by the incendiary hands of their author, evinced an
imagination of the chivalric and heroic kind rather than the
sentimental. "Scotland and Scottish Chiefs", the "Black Douglas",
"Masters of Scottish Kings", Ireland and her wrongs, evidently occupied
much of the young poet's thoughts. Although these poems as a whole were
scarcely worthy of the press, sometimes his youthful pen, at the mention
of the distant home and kindred from whom he was separated, would
express the outpourings of a warm and deeply moved heart, in very tender
and beautiful verse. After a while, Mr. Douglas determined to prepare
himself for the practice of law, a profession for which he was eminently
adapted, and in which he must have attained the highest rank. In
pursuance of this purpose, he commenced reading with his uncle, the
Hon.
Samuel Douglas, Attorney General of Pennsylvania, and continued in the
preparation for nearly two years. He then suddenly concluded to turn his
attention to the ministry, and gave up the study of law. As he was not a
man of weak purposes, it is difficult to account for the change, and it
is useless now to speculate upon it. He went to the Theological Seminary
at York, Pennsylvania, and after a due season was admitted to the
ministry in the German Reformed Church. In this calling he continued
literally to the day of his death, never neglecting an appointment nor a
duty, and never wearying in well-doing. After having preached to a
number of congregations, he removed in 1850, to his farm on the Potomac,
in Washington County, Maryland, the birthplace of his last wife, who was
the daughter of Colonel John Blackford. He did not, however, retire from
the ministry, but undertook the charge of four different congregations.
And as these were widely separated, his whole time was occupied in
attending to his parochial duties. Holding himself aloof from politics,
he rarely went to the polls.
"When the war burst over the Union
in 1861, Mr. Douglas saw the horrors of it inaugurated, by the burning
of the beautiful bridge over the Potomac. War continued to pour blood
freely over the land. Excitement and bitter feelings raged along the
border. The troubled times and advancing age rapidly whitened the gray
head of the preacher of the Gospel. Yet he willingly permitted no
interruption to his duties ; he went his regular rounds, comforting the
sick, burying the dead, and spreading the Gospel. But soon the iron hand
of persecution was laid upon him ; sentinels and spies lurked about his
house and dogged his footsteps.
His sermons were reported, and
the very prayers that he offered over the graves of those he buried were
searched for words of treason.
Before destruction began its red
carnival with fire and blood in the valley of the Shenandoah, the torch
was applied to his property, and one dark night his handsome barn blazed
up against the heavens, casting an ominous glare over the Potomac, and
then sank into ashes and a mass of ruins. The fences of his farm were in
time taken down and burned, and his horses and cattle passed from his
presence into the hands of the soldiers, to assist in the suppression of
the Rebel lion.
Mr. Douglas soon became a prisoner in his own
house ; and if he walked out upon his land, he was either halted at his
outer gate, or followed by a suspicious sentinel. His life became almost
unendurable ; he was turned back when he went out to perform the Last
rites to the dying ; armed squads searched his house at the pleasure of
each new commander : invading the chambers of his wife and daughters —
looking through the contents of their bureaus and wardrobes, and tuning
their beds upon the floor with their bayonets ; each member of his
family was insulted by the brutal soldiery ; and finally, he was ordered
to close the shutters of all the windows that looked out upon Virginia.
The battle of Sharpsburg was fought on the 17th of September,
1862. The Confederate lines extended to within about three miles of the
residence of Mr. Douglas, and their line of retreat, on the 19th, into
Virginia, was through his farm. The Federal army followed to the
Potomac, was repulsed at Blackford's Ferry, and then stretched itself in
camp along the river. One corps was encamped on Mr. Douglas's farm(2), "
Ferry Hill Place," and immediately his fences, wheat, corn, and every
thing destructible was swept away, until that beautiful plantation
became as bald and unprotected as a common.
All the crops of the
season were taken without compensation, and without the pretence of
military seizure. Tents were pitched in the yard, cannon planted about
the house, and the inmates were in a state of sieo;e. The battle havine:
increased the animosity among citizens of opposite sympathies, frequent
reports were made to headquarters of the rank disloyalty of that " Old
Eebel preacher" — that he was in underground and treasonable
communication with the Confederate General ; and it was a subject of
suspicion and complaint that one of his sons (Henry
Kyd Douglas) was on the personal staff
of General " Stonewall " Jackson. It was a period credulous of evil
report, and although the Federal officers, -to whom these reports were
made, would have concluded upon a moment's reflection that the scanty
information of which Mr. Douglas, a prisoner in his own house, was
possessed, would be of little value to the enemy, yet they acted in
accordance with their prejudiceo.
About the latter part of
October, on a dark and rainy night, one of the shutters, which had been
kept closed by order, was forced open by the storm. Mrs. Douglas, in
going to her chamber with a lamp, unfortunately passed by this window,
and a slender stream of disloyal and sympathetic light was poured over
the Potomac into the Confederacy. The watchful sentinel upon the bank of
the river saw the terrible flash, and made haste to report to an eager
officer that a signal light had been given from the house of that " Old
Rebel." It was a grievous charge, and most grievously did Mr. Douglas
answer for it. Here was treason, if not stalking abroad, at least alive
and active in the camp of loyalty. It must be sorely punished.
On the next evening, without warning or reason given, the venerable
gentleman was taken from his home and family, and marched to the
quarters of General Fitz-John Porter. He requested an interview with the
General, but that was refused. This man, charged with disloyalty, had no
rights which the Federal commander was bound to respect, and unheard, he
was committed to the vulgar treatment of such soldiers as generally
composed the provost guard. Had not such wrongs become common, it would
seem both shameful and cruel that an aged gentleman of high social
position, a minister of the Gospel, well known throughout all that
country, should be dragged so suddenly from his family and condemned to
prison, without an opportunity for explanation. And how simple was the
explanation, and how easily refuted the charges upon which Mr. Douglas
was arrested! General Porter thought little of the bitter draught he was
forcing upon that unoffending civilian. Perhaps he thought of it
afterward, when in retributive justice the poisoned chalice was
commended to his own lips by that very Government in whose, behalf he
was doing the cruel wrong. The wheel was turning which was to drag
General Porter down.
" Though the mills of God grind slowly,
Yet they grind exceeding small."
The same evening of his arrest,
Mr. Douglas was hurried on to Berlin, below Harper's Ferry. Here, in the
open air, without shelter or any covering but the cloak he wore, and
forbidden the use of fire, the old prisoner passed that cold and dreary
night upon the frozen ground, while his family, ignorant of the cause of
his arrest or his fate, passed the same night in tearful grief and fear.
But greater than all the prisoner's personal sufferings was the thought
of the manifold trials and sorrows that his arrest would bring upon his
family, left alone and unprotected in the midst of his enemies. It was
to him a night of wrestling between outraged honor and the Christian
forgiveness and forbearance which he had been wont to preach throughout
the land. And when, after the long night, the light of day appeared
again, it witnessed the sad spectacle of the white hair of the old man
mingling with the snow that lay all about him. A second and a third
night was spent in the same manner, except that a subordinate officer,
whose heart was not steeled against compassion, declared his treatment
was a disgrace, and offered him oue of his own blankets to lie upon. "We
care not to dwell upon the sorrows that were inflicted upon Mr. Douglas
during these days, or the gloom and wretchedness that prevailed in his
household. After a few clays he was taken before General Burnside, where
the oath of allegiance was offered him as the price of his release. This
he declined, and demanded an investigation of the charges against him.
Had he taken the oath under such circumstances, he must first have
crushed out the spirit of independence he inherited from his ancestors.
His request was in turn disregarded, and he was hurried away to Fort
McHenry.
The fate of many who went within the walls of this
Bastile suggests that over the gate should have been written, as over
the entrance of Dante's Hell:
"He who enters here, leaves hope
behind."
For a while after Mr. Douglas reached Fort McHenry, he
was shut up in what had been a horse-stable, with deserters,
criminals in ball and chain, and prisoners of the lowest grade, in all
his experience, never had he seen such a mass of wretchedness,
wickedness, and despair. A proper respect for decency, forbids a minute
description of the scene in the midst of which he passed those miserable
days and more miserable nights. And yet his age, appearance, and
character had their effect even upon the wretches who surrounded him.
They soon began to regard him with kindness and consideration. A
fellow-prisoner thus describes Mr. Douglas's situation at this time and
in this place :
" A large number of prisoners, perhaps four
hundred, occupied the hay-loft, and a larger number the stables below.
After having seen Captain Barlow in regard to my quarters, and securing
certain privileges for myself, he remarked to me that they wqre having a
lively time in the front stable. An old gray-haired man was in there
preaching to the soldiers, and he seemed to understand his business. He
added that it was a bitter shame to have that old Christian gentleman in
there, but that he could not help it. He was charged with giving
signal-lights to the rebels ; he (Captain B.) did not believe it, but
General Morris did, and there was no use in trying to get him out. He
asked me to look through the bars and see if I knew the prisoner. He was
holding service. At its conclusion, I looked in and saw him seated upon
a board, and when he arose and approached, I at once recognized him, and
we shook hands. We had some conversation, and as we parted he said, (in
a full, earnest voice,) ' They may put me in prison ; they may confine
my body ; but they cannot imprison my spirit and my soul. I have plenty
of work in here for my Master, and, by his grace, I intend to do it.' He
constantly held prayer in that stable, and his fellow-prisoners, as far
as I could ascertain, exercised toward him the greatest affection and
reverence." Soon after, by the kindness of the Provost Marshal, Mr.
Douglas was taken from the horsestable and placed in somewhat more
comfortable quarters, with his young friend and other state prisoners.
The record of the imprisonment of Fort McHenry is too well known
to make it necessary to add that his exposure and sufferings were still
great, too great for one of his age and failing health to endure very
long. "While he remained with those kind gentlemen, they resolved that
he should be as their guest, and should perform none of the duties of
their prison-life. His health, however, rapidly declined. His white
hairs became fewer ; the fire in his eye began to burn dimly, and his
body to bend. Always unwell, at one time he was very ill. He attributed
the beginning of his sickness to the severe cold he had caught when
lying out upon the ground the several nights after his arrest. He grew
weak and cold ; the poor covering of a quilt and a flimsy blanket were
not sufficient to keep him warm. " He had prayers morning and evening
with his room-mates. He prayed always for universal humanity, for his
enemies and his friends. His conversation was mostly upon religious
subjects, and thrice only he joined the little band in a war of wits."
His illness increased, and at one time he thought he was dying. He said
his spirit was strong enough, but his body was growing weak; yet weak as
his body became, his spirit never deserted him. The ladies of Baltimore,
as usual, ministered kindly unto him, and did much to assuage his
sufferings. To " Father Douglas," as they called him, they brought
cheerfulness and material comfort. He had nothing to offer in return but
his blessings and his prayers.'
Having been in confinement about
six weeks, Mr. Douglas was brought before the Provost Marshal. By this
gentleman he was treated with much courtesy, and he ascertained, after
having undergone an examination, that there was no evidence against him,
and that no written charges had ever been preferred. He had been
arrested and imprisoned on suspicion, prejudice, and the vaguest rumors.
Feeble and sick, but the shadow of his former self, he was released and
graciously permitted to return to his home.
But imprisonment had
done its fatal work. The seeds of disease had taken deep root, and they
continued to grow. He resumed his parochial duties, but he appeared
among his people as one stepping along the confines of. the grave ; and
that deep-toned voice which they knew so well, and which had. often
thrilled them with its power, was weakened and unsteady. The succeeding
years of war, bringing with them new trials and difficulties, aggravated
his ailment. His sons were wounded in battle, and false rumors of their
death reached his ears time and again. On one occasion, when he went to
Hagerstown to seek for news of his eldest son, whose obituary he had
read in the papers, he was not permitted to alight from his buggy, his
horse was seized and turned toward home, and he was ordered to leave the
town. These wrongs were too much for his proud soul and his failing
health, and he fast grew wan and weary. A few years had done the usual
work of a score. Mr. Douglas was spared to the ministry for a few years
longer, but nothing could arrest the fatal disease which had taken hold
of him in Fort McHenry. He seemed to know that his end was approaching,
but he continued his labors. His family entreated him to retire, and
leave his unfinished work to others, but he replied that he would die at
his post. He still hesitated in strange unwillingness to cease his
ministerial labors ; but, on the next Sunday, started to take leave of
his people. At • Mount Moriah he preached a morning sermon, which his
devoted parishioners still speak of as full of truth, humility, and
resignation. At Keedysville, on the same day, his congregation looked
with surprise on his feeble frame, and listened attentively to the words
which impressed them with more than usual solemnity. The venerable man
seemed to be conscious that he was speaking to them for the last time,
and while they were silent, his earnestness rose for a time above his
bodily weakness, and triumphed. The effort was too great : toward the
end of his sermon his voice trembled and his sight grew dim, and at its
close he sank exhausted into his seat. It was a solemn scene. He had
spoken as Elijah might have spoken just as he was raised from earth to
heaven. The people dispersed, and their aged pastor was taken to the
house of a friend, where he lay for several clays, attended by his wife
and physicians. He was then removed to his home, where, after lingering
a few days longer, he, on the 20th of August, 1867, passed to God, under
whose banner he had fought for more than thirty years, and faithfully
even unto the end.
A sentinel on the watch-tower of Zion, he
fell at his post.
Family
Robert may be the
son of Joseph Douglas, Samuel's brother. In addition to be referred to
as a teacher, he is also referred to as Rev Joseph Douglas. Samuel and
Joseph were sons of Henry Douglas and his wife Jane Blair. Henry was a
resident of Limavady, in Northern Ireland, but was probably born in
Scotland. Samuel received his education in Scotland.
Robert
married twice. His first wife was Helena, daughter of Col John Blackford
(1772-1839). Col Blackford married three times and as Helena's birth
date is unknown, it is not possible to identify her mother. Robert's
second wife was Mary Robertson (born circa 1814) (sometimes recorded as
Robinson), daughter of John Robertson (Robinson) and his wife Mary
Harry, who married on 7 Jan 1812 in Hagerstown, Maryland.
Robert
and Mary had at least two children,
Henry Kyd Douglas and
Nancy Cowan 'Nannie' Douglas (1844-1930). She married John McLeod
Beckenbaugh. Robert is known to have had 'sons' and 'daughters' (see
above), but who their mother(s) was/were, I am unsure.
Notes:
1. ...Mrs. Douglass was the wife of
the Reverend Robert Douglass, a Presbyterian minister. Douglass
purchased Ferry Hill Plantation in 1848 from Franklin Blackford who had
inherited it at his father's death in 1839.
2.
Douglass (sic) purchased Ferry Hill Plantation in 1848 from Franklin
Blackford who had inherited it at his father's death in 1839.
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