Year: 1867

The following sketch. taken from the
Easy Chair" of Harper's Monthly for
November, and written by the graceful pen
of Geo. William Curtis, will be easily re-
cognized as a striking picture of the last and
saddest days of James A. McDougall


in the early days Of summer of this year
there was seen for few days a striking
figure upon the pleasant balcony or piazza OF
Congress Hall in Albany. This hotel is
upon the bill by the side of the Capitol, and
its balcony is shaded by the dense foliage
of the trees, in the little street which separ-
ates it from the square in front Which
crowns the hill before the Capitol as you
look up State Street. Upon that balcony, as
we said in the early days of June, there
sometimes sat small, slight man, appar
emily shriveled or withered, the slightness of
his form emphasized by huge, broad brim-
med plantation hat. He was bent or curled
over as he sat, and smoked a long pipe-so
long that he was obliged to hold the wooden
stem in his hand, as If it had been chbou-
que, and he was always alone; he seemed
to know nc one and to care to make no ac-
quaintances. Apparently he muttercd a
good deal to himself, as if rapt and uncon-
sciously talking. But the murmur was in
articulGte. 1t seemed a forlOrn, grotesque
old man, living in reverie. But when he
arose his step was uncertain. He moved
toward the dining-roOm in the same self in
volved manner. and it became too plain that
it was man wholly hesotted with drink
At the table there was the same muttering
a stupid wonder that the walters did not
come; peevish imI atience, and an abrupt
stalking away from the room before he had
half eaten his dinner


Then it, forgetting the sad spectacle OF
a ruined man, some musiDg loiterer upon
the balcony could have looked through the
trees of the dusky square down into the
Albany of thirty or forty years ago, he
might have seen an eager, intelligent lad
earnest in study, ardent in friendship. gen
erous, aspiring. ambitious, with a sparkling
aud persuasive tongue, and a brilliant career
smiling upon him from the future. Later he
might have followed the youth to the other
side of the continent, where the promise
seemed to be partly fulfilled, and he rose tt
high civic honors. Yet upon broader anC
more conspicuous platform that promise wa:
wholly eclips9d. and the bright, studious boy
became man whoee presence was sadden
ing spectacle, and whose name was a by
word He had grown to be a national hu
initiation; and such was the wreck anC
waste of manhood that there were many
who asked as they had never asked before
can nothing be done by Law to prevent thi,
terrible ruin which seems to lie in wait fol
any man?


When he sat upon the balcony Of Congress,
Hall he held no public position-he com
manded no respect. 1t was pitiful to see
him crouehed under the broad brm of his
hat and to think that, as he silently smoked
he too looked through the trees of the dusky
square down into the town and saw the rosy
eager, hopeful, boy of thirty or forty wears
aso and then thought of the horrible incum.
bus which had gnawed his life aud caree,
away. and which he could neysr hone "a
throw of. Nobody spoke to hint was
useless; but he was too tragical a SIGHT r.
smile at Yet this old man. as he seemed
this prematurely withered frame of ,eventv
was only forty eight years old.


At the end of the summer in early Son
tember, if you were coming up State stree,
one warm afternoon, you would have soon
several carriages and hearse before s.
Peters Church. The generous, hopeful boy,
the ruined man, was dead. The sarv;cs
was read and amidst the warm tears of those
who loved hlm he was borne away. There
was no address, no sermon. What could
De saldt Inc one great appalling fact Of
ms hie-could that be mentioned as a warn.
ing over hls colin? And if it were not men
toned what else could be thought of? The
prayers were said in the church. which xros
as gloomy and depressing as our Gotb;c
churches generally are but there was no
sermon; The lie. the death, they were the
most solemn and impressive of sermons.