Richard Draper Douglass was born in Westport, Essex County, New York, October 23, 1836, the youngest child of William Stewart Douglass (1798-1860) and Jane G. (Arthur) Douglass (1803-1842). Richard studied at Phillips Academy, Exeter, New Hampshire; and Williston Seminary. He was a graduate of Amherst College (Class of 1860), and Bangor Theological Seminary (1863).

“As an agent of the U.S. Christian Commission, he served in Alabama, Tennessee, and Virginia before taking a position in the Commissary Department of the United States Army at City Point, Virginia, in early 1865, which position ended soon after the war was over. After a brief stint in business in Boston, Douglass became a special relief agent for the Brooklyn Children’s Aid Society (1867-1873) and general superintendent of the society (1873-1885). On September 13, 1864, Douglass married Mary Abbie Lawrence (1839-1931), daughter of Ephraim Appleton Lawrence. Richard Douglass died in Brooklyn, New York, April 2, 1885.” [See New York State Library: Richard Draper Douglass Papers, 1853-1875]

In the March 6, 1931 issue of the New York Times, an article about the life of Mrs. Douglass, told of her Red Cross work with the Christian Commission at Lookout Mountain and later in Nashville, Tenn. during the Civil War. It also spoke of how she managed the Seaside Home for over 40 years at Coney Island in New York. Children from the city were cared for here over the summer. Presumably these kids had ties to the Childrens Aid Society which her husband had headed before his death. She attended Mount Holyoke Seminary (now a college) for several years and used that training to teach Sunday school for many years at the Plymouth church where she had been a member for over 60 years. 

It should be noted that there are some newspaper articles claiming Rev. Douglass to be a physician, an officer, on Gen. Grant’s staff, etc., but I could not find evidence of any such claims. Neither could I find any evidence that Mary Douglass was commissioned a Major.

Transcription

City Point, Virginia
October 5th 1864

My Dear Darling,

Would give so much comfort to her own if she were here tonight—for I am mangy—not in mind but in body, and I would like to put my head into your hands for a thorough cleaning, as you alone know how to do that for me in the way which I like best. It has been an extremely warm day and the labor of loading & unloading boxes and barrels into and out of wagons, of storing them in our warehouse, or overseeing a gang of hands & running about considerable, has kept me active and so quite happy most of the day.

This evening we have service but I shall not go in. I do want to see you so much but I must content myself by looking for letters from you tomorrow. If I don’t get some word from you, I shall be afraid that your arm is too lame to write, so I will be patient still. I am expecting to have help tomorrow in my work and to be more at leisure to spend the evening with you.

There is a Negro Meeting going on just behind our quarters and they are singing now. They do make a strangely sweet melody in their fashion. I wish that you could be near & hear them. You would be amused at least. Though when one of their preachers gets into his wild style of preaching, working upon his own emotional notion, and that of his hearers, it is sad. You will hear some of it in Nashville, I suppose, for they have them there.

My darling must come near me now—how near would you have me, dear? and say Good Night. I dreamed of you, dear, last night. I hope I shall see you again tonight or else sleep dreamless. I prefer the former if I can see you quite happy. Good night. Your own, — Richard