Source:Fleming-odd-life
George T. Fleming. "Odd life story recalled by street: History of De Rouaud, early Pittsburgher, refugee and miser; thrilling episodes: Tomb built in Soho." Pittsburgh Gazette Times, Nov. 14, 1915, sec. 5, p. 2. Newspapers.com 85896109.
CONTINUING the story of James Tustin and his pals, "Billy" Price and Claire Aime Fidele De Rouaud, pioneer in Pittsburgh, today's installment will deal principally with De Rouaud and his once famous tomb, and of how later, despite explicit directions in his will for the building and care of his tomb and the creation of a perpetual trust for its maintenance, the weatherbeaten monument to eccentricity, as exemplified in De Rouaud, has long since gone the way of the world.
There is shown today a picture of the tomb, a plan of part of the Tustin estate showing its exact location made by Robert E. McGowin in 1847, the site as it appears today, and a picture of the death mask made by Mr. Tustin at De Rauaud's [sic] death. The mask is still in a good state of preservation and is in possession of William Henry Sims of Pittsburgh, a great grandson of James Tustin. Mr. Sims is shown in the picture No. 3.
The writer hereof has distinct recollections of the tomb and acknowledges to have been one of several hundred boys who rattled showers of stones around it in the glorious days of stone fighting on Ruch's Hill after the Civil War. However, he never made bold to visit the place until one Sunday years after the stone fight days.
Old Tomb Visited.
John H. Detker, who published a weekly paper named the Pittsburgh Star for many years, called at the writer's home with a wondrous story of a strange tomb down in Soho Hollaw [sic] and earnestly besought the writer to go with him to the tomb and write him an account of it. This was done, but the story was confined to a brief description of the tomb and a copy of the inscription. No copy of this article was kept.
In the writer's mind there arose thoughts of the identity of the strange being interred in that lonely spot, lonely as far as tombs were concerned, and the wonder grew whether the mystery of the tomb and its tenant would ever be solved for him. Busy with other lines of work, the matter was forgotten.
Yet right at home the mystery could have been easily solved, for the maternal aunt of the writer, Mrs. Cornelia Butler, knew De Rauaud [sic] and had often been in his store.
Mrs. Butler came to Pittsburgh in 1836, of mature age, and died in 1907, after 71 years' residence in the city.
The denouement came in the fall of 1894, about eight years after the visit to the tomb with Mr. Detker, and the cause was an article by Stephen Quinon, one of the editorial staff of the Pittsburgh Times, which appeared in that paper October 23, 1894.
After reading the article Mrs. Butler talked, corroborating most of Mr. Quinon's story relating to De Rouaud's career in Pittsburgh, his personal appearance and his queer ways. Upon reading the headlines of Mr. Quinon's story her first exclamation was one of surprise:
"Oh, that crazy old Frenchman!" she said.
Then she read his story with avidity.
Story Is Remembered.
However there are yet living two Pittsburgh women who not only remember the strange Frenchman, but cared for and fed his dogs after their master's death, and kept the tomb clean and in good trim. This was a religious duty enjoined on James Tustin, their grandfather, and his heirs and is not to be in any respect regarded as menial or degrading. Quite the contrary.
These women are Miss Jennie G. Reed and her sister, Mrs. Sarah F. Sims, daughters of Ralph Reed and Ann Tustin Reed, daughter of James Tustin.
William Henry Sims, son of Mrs. Sarah F. Sims, was accustomed to scrub the marble slab and keep things tidy around the tomb during the years he resided in the old James Tustin homestead, which was during the tenancy of his uncle, Controller E. S. Morrow. Mr. Sims was a member of his uncle's household.
Last week's article, by an inadvertence, made the statement that Mrs. Morrow was the daughter of Hugh Reed. This should have been Ralph Reed. Mrs. Morrow died in 1879.
The recollections of Mrs. Sims and her sister of the quaint De Rouaud, will bear out most of Mr. Quinon's statements of De Rouaud's career in Pittsburgh. Some historical facts they did not know.
However, he is wrong on one point. He states that De Rouaud came to Pittsburgh about 1820. In his will De Rouaud calls himself Claire Anne Fidelle De Rouaud (two misspellings), commonly known as Francois, or Francis Rouaud.
James M. Riddle's directory of 1815, the first directory of Pittsburgh, on page 73, has this line and the name is spelled correctly:
Rouaud, Francis, merchant, W. side Market between 3d and 4th.
There were no numbers on the houses in those days and the points of the compass were necessarily used. There was no other De Rouaud ever in Pittsburgh and Francis Rouaud and Claire Aime Fidele De Rouaud are identical.
The De Rouaud Store.
The next line above De Rouaud's name in this directory reads:
Ross, James Esquire, counsellor at law, N. side of 4th, E of Grant.
James Ross, one of the early senators of the United States, whose name is commemorated in Ross street, was one of the witnesses to De Rouaud's will.
Isaac Harris' directory of Pittsburgh, 1840–41 (P. 48), has this line, the name short one letter,
Ruoud, Francis, liquor and variety store, 43 Market.
William G. Johnston of Pittsburgh in his "Life and Reminiscences," who was born in the vicinity, tells us that the store was on the north side of Market street, two doors east of Third. Third and Fourth streets, so called in the old directories, are now Third and Fourth avenues.
Just what year De Rouaud came to Pittsburgh can not be told, but it was prior to 1815. Mrs. Sims and her sister confirm Mr. Johnston's location of the store.
De Rouaud selected the site of his tomb. He was wont to go out from his store to the Tustin home with his two dogs and his lunch basket and spend the day on the spot where he was buried. From this spot he had a beautiful view of the Monongahela River and the Monongahela valley.
When De Rouaud became sick he sent for Mr. Tustin and made a request that he be buried on this spot. Mr. Tustin was much surprised, as he had selected this very spot on his estate for his own resting place, but he finally agreed to let De Rouaud be buried there. De Rouaud had legal papers prepared, signed and attested, Mr. Sims alleges, and the matter was settled.
De Rouaud left $2,500 to Mr. Tustin for the erection of the tomb and the care and burial of his two dogs.
These were small dogs of the long-hair spaniel breed and very snappy. One was black and the other yellow. The black one he called Cricket and the yellow one Busy Bee. Busy Bee died first and was buried at his head. Cricket, who lived some years after, was buried at his feet.
De Rouaud's Tomb.
The tomb was built of white marble and was erected by Mr. Tustin, as De Rouaud had instructed, and the following inscription written by William H. Denny was placed on it:
IN MEMORY OF
Claire Aime Fidele De RouaudA Native of France, Born at Chalons in La Vendee, Died at Pittsburgh, Jany. 1st, 1844 Aged 76 years. He was much respected by those who recognized and could admire Simplicity, Probity, Good sense, Native dignity and Gentlemanly Bearing in the guise of Penury. His remains repose here, where he spent many happy days in a Spot congenial to pure taste and endeared by Friendship.
The tomb was cared for and looked after by Mr. Tustin during his lifetime and then by his heirs until 1887, when the property was sold and the last of the Tustin heirs and the Sims family moved away from the old homestead.
The tomb since then has been demolished and from all appearances the body of De Rouaud has been taken away by reason of the cutting through of the street called De Rouaud street, the name shortened into De Ruad.
When Mr. Detker and the writer visited the tomb, about 1886, it was in good condition though blackened by the Pittsburgh smoke of over 40 years.
Inscription Easily Read.
The photograph from which the picture today has been made was taken in 1889 and the inscription as printed above easily deciphered with a magnifying glass, the top line read without one. The photograph shows the tomb in good condition at that time.
The writer has recollections of visiting the tomb several times subsequently to 1886; and the tomb was in fair condition, but the stone walls and terraces about were not, the walls tumbled down here and there and a general tumble down appearance about the once elegant mansion and beautiful grounds of James Tustin in Soho.
Before going into the story of the ultimate fate of De Rouaud's costly sepulcher, it is well to tell the story of the man in the remaining space today, for many may possibly have never heard of Claire Aime Fidele De Rouaud. Recourse is now had to Mr. Quinon's article which he headlined:
ROUAUD THE SILK MERCHANT.
A collection of Materials out of which a Competent Hand Might Construct a Romance of History.
He has stated it rightly. John A. Harper, son of John Harper, president and previously cashier of the Bank of Pittsburgh, has often talked to the writer of the strange history of De Rouand [sic], and Mr. Harper furnished Mr. Quinon some of the details of his most graphic and interesting article.
Mr. Harper knew the complete story of De Rouand's [sic] life and told it in full to Ralph Keeler who intended to use it in a romance he was about to write.
Keeler and His Work.
In 1873 when the Cuban revolution was in progress, Keeler went to Havana as the correspondent of the New York Tribune. Spanish spies in New York learned of his departure, and aware that he would be of valuable assistance to the revolutionists by revealing the true state of affairs in the unhappy island, determined that Keeler should never reach his destination. He disappeared from the ship on which he sailed December 16, 1873, undoubtedly murdered and thrown overboard, but there could be found no proof of this and the mystery of his taking off has remained unsolved.
That was the year of the Virginius affair, which occurred shortly before Keeler disappeared, and our country was aflame with indignation. Keeler's notes were lost, likely with him.
Mr. Harper died without retelling the story and all who knew De Rouand's [sic] complete story are dead, but not all who knew the man. Mr. Quinon found some who knew parts of the story, mostly aged persons:
Mr. Quinon laboriously put the parts together as he got them. He said in part:
The glow of romance is over them all, but in the light of it, historic truths are discoverable. They are worth preserving because illustrating life in Pittsburgh in a long-gone day, and showing its relations in an epic life beyond the sea. Let it be said again the purpose here is not to perform a Gradgrind duty to facts, but to relate them as they have come from men who look fondly back on the departing century and as materials out of which a competent hand might construct a romance of history.
Quinon's Story.
To keep the story within newspaper limits, he explained, he was obliged to omit reasons for many of the statements regarding De Ronand [sic], but they existed and were potent.
Now some of his facts—using his spelling:
It was in 1778 that a son was born to the noble family of De Rouaud who lived at Challons in what was subsequently the department of La Vendee. This son was christened Claire Ami Fidele De Ronaud [sic]. In his will he says of the De Rouaud family that France had nourished and honored them for many centuries.
Claire Aimi was but a lad when the Parisian uprising brought on the thrilling history of those years, the storming of the Bastile, the formation of the National Guard with La Fayette at its head, etc.
News of these happenings at the capital spread over the land, and came to the shores of the Bay of Biscay in Normandy, in that Bas Poitou, in that La Vendee immortalized by Victor Hugo in "93," and the same region in which Balzac has laid the scenes of "The Chouans."
The news that slowly came to this distant region told of the folly and stupidity of Louis XVI at Versailles, how he wavered between courage and cowardice and how he was despised by his valiant queen.
La Vendee, royalist and Catholic, was to do splendid deeds of valor for church and king. These are revealed in the awful tale of the Vendeean war, from the biographic sketches of Cathalineau, of Rochejaquelin, the linen pedler, the aristocrat, chiefs of the guerrilas who infested the blood-stained woods.
Some Things Not Known.
What share the Count De Rouaud had in this warfare we do not know. His fate is unknown. His wife, alas! like so many other gentlewomen of high rank, went to the guillotine, one of the thousands who thus died during the Reign of Terror.
Sorrow and woe became thus early the legacies of the boy Claire, and as an emigre he sought safety in England, thence to Jamaica. On that island there remained remnants of the brave Maroons, the Circassians of the Jamaican fastnesses, who refused to recognize the authority of England when the Spanish were driven out.
Robert Charles Dallas, friend of Byron, has left a record of the heroism of the Maroons—the same Dallas whose advise [sic] caused Byron to publish "Childe Harold." The cause of emancipation struggled on and then came in 1838 the constitution which was adopted for Jamaica. The slaves were led to believe their freedom had come, and, led by the daring Maroons, revolted, and there was bloody work as bloody as savage superstitution [sic] and remorseless hate could inspire. With the many De Rouaud fled, with what little he could, of his means, and found a home among his countrymen in Louisiana.
Pittsburgh, with its rivers, was then the Gateway to the South and West. Down the river had passed characters who left their later fame, among them Audubon.
From these voyagers De Rouaud heard tales that thrilled. Vendeean he was yet, and the passion for adventure still burned. Child of the Revolution, he had retained the French hunger for land.
St. Louis was French, and also St. Genevieve nearby. Northward up the great river traveled Claire De Rouaud to the latter place and bought the 1,800 arpents of land he devised in his will to James McCloskey.
Pittsburgh was once French—all the lands watered by the Ohio and its tributaries, and for this region but a few decades before De Rouaud's birth, his countrymen had spilled their blood in vain.
He had doubtless heard of Duquesne, de Mennville, Contracoeur, Beaujeu, De Lignery and others who fought under the lilies of France, ere the tricolor came, about the headwaters of the Ohio and on the Monongahela.
So to Pittsburgh De Rouaud came.
Here in Pittsburgh the eccentric refugee finished his striking career, a strange being, a recluse, yet leaving upon all who knew him indellible [sic] impressions of a singularly strong and original character, just and honorable also.
Mr. Quinon now depicts the man as he was described to him. He was furnished this description in part:
The few who can in memory go back more than half a century, picture him as a man of medium size, wearing always the same suit, and, in winter and summer, a straw hat painted green, sitting in his store on Market street between Third and Fourth surrounded by a half dozen or more dogs—in a store where everything was sold from silks to sausages—a man with piercing eyes, a cold and reserved manner, self-contained, independent, defiant, a free thinker, a philosopher, in his way a poet; for he had a profound love of nature. He is recalled as of Sundays walking down Penn avenue, his dogs at his heels, on his road to Jones' Ferry to cross over and spend the day in the forest searching for specimens of rare plants, for he was fond of botany.
Visits to Tustin's.
When not botanizing he spent his Sundays at the home of James Tustin on the brow of the hill overlooking Soho, where with his host, and other friends, hard headed, resolute, masterful men, among the apple trees, he discussed the great themes of life and death, of fate, free will, all in the endless mazes lost. His dogs were with him, and on their haunches, listened gravely to the voice they loved so well, when not gazing over the Monongahela to the wild bluffs, wondering what sport there might be for them on those wooded crests.
A flight of fancy here, but this is Quinon's description verbatim. The Sims family stories corroborate it in the main.
Mrs. Sims relates that in the winter time De Rouaud would spend the day at Mr. Tustin's house, walking, of course, from his store, wearing low-cut shoes and an old straw hat, but would accept no hospitality from Mr. Tustin, nor would he dine with him, but would be content to eat his lunch with his two dogs in Mr. Tustin's library.
"Walking of course"—to be sure, for De Rouaud, a typical miser, would never have hired a conveyance or even a horse. After his death Mr. Denny, who had charge of the De Rouaud estate, found many gold pieces hidden away on the shelves in the store between the webs of silk.
William G. Johnston in writing of scenes along the old Fourth street road, now Fifth avenue, records:
Soho crossed, the Tustin farm lay on the right and high up on the hillside; not far from the old house was the burial place of Rouaud and his dog. He, a native of France, was an eccentric old miser, who for many years kept a store on the north side of Market street, two doors east of Third. His silks had a reputation of being extremely fine, and it was rumored he had hidden in their folds an incredible amount of money long hoarded with scrupulous care.
Store Dark and Dingy.
His store had a dingy dark appearance, and I have no recollection of ever seeing the large show window of 8 × 10 panes clean; in fact dust and cobwebs held undisturbed possession.
How he obtained so much money I never understood, for it seemed seldom that anyone ever entered his door. He cooked his frugal meals upon a stove beside which he sat almost constantly, his only companions a pair of small yellow dogs.
Once when taking a walk on the South Side of the Monongahela, below Jones' Ferry, where were some salt wells, one of these pets fell in a pot of boiling salt, and needed no other place of sepulchre. For the other Rouaud made provision in his will for maintenance during life and for burial at his side in death.
Besides silks, he had in a cellar under the store, a great stock of whisky, treasured up for many years. Its age gave it a fabulous value, and after his death, when sold, brought large prices.
The well-known straw hat which he wore (rusty and brown with age very probably dated back to the days of the whisky distillation. Dr. Denny was his executor and in carrying out the provisions of the will was obliged to visit France to hunt up the heirs.
But this last is another story.
Much of the liquor in the cellar was wines, for the disposal of which De Rouaud left instructions in his will. In Mr. Johnston's book he has De Rouaud's name spelled Rouand, but the book was not printed in Pittsburgh. He is radically wrong about the dog falling into a pot of salt, Mrs. Sarah F. Sims stated on reading Mr. Johnston's article.
"Why, I have fed both dogs many times when I was a little girl and saw my father, Ralph Reed, bury both of them," she said.
It is possible De Rouaud had other dogs in his long life than Cricket and Busy Bee and one of them may have "gone to pot"—been salted away.
Much of Mr. Quinon's article relates to James Tustin and the relatives of De Rouaud and "Billy" Price to Tustin. Mr. Quinon states that Tustin came to America about the beginning of the century. His descendants state about 1790.
Something of Tustin.
The article also states that Tustin was for a period employed in the mint in Philadelphia and came from there to Pittsburgh and engaged in gardening. He was a machinist, Mr. Quinon states, and "after gardening a while set up an establishment for his trade, abandoned it and returned to gardening, when he bought all the land from what is now called the Tustin homestead down to the Monongahela, now covered by houses and worth more than he ever dreamed of."
When Mr. Quinon wrote in 1894 the Tustin homestead was intact, as depicted in last Sunday's story, and the De Rouaud tomb yet standing.
From last Sunday's story, derived from authentic sources, it will be seen that James Tustin was not exactly a gardener. He conducted his forge for many years on his place and was a horticulturist, but not for gain, and he was especially prominent in the growing of small fruits.
The means devised to perpetuate De Rouaud's tomb, and the futility of them, must be left to another day. Also the relations that Tustin and Price sustained with him in the role of friendship.