페이지 이미지

wardly to 33d St. along 33d St. back to the Allegheny River Northwardly except the I. Woolslayer and M. McCullough plots which were added in 1847, from Penn Ave. South between 39th St. and 41st St. Southwardly to Woolslayer Alley. These boundaries did not include either St. Mary's or Allegheny Cemetery.

The Allegheny Arsenal almost cut the Borough in two from Penn Ave. to the Allegheny River between 39th and 40th Sts.

Matter pertaining to the organization of the Borough of Lawrenceville and its subsequent history would be interesting; but that would carry us beyond the limits of our subject; viz: "Earlier Lawrenceville."




The elevation of the Duke of Orleans to the throne of France recalls some early recollections, and if you will indulge me in the privilege of the fair Sheherezade, of being discursive, and of digressing as much as I please, a paragraph or two is at your service.

It was probably in 1799 or in 1800 that this distinguished personage accompanied by his two brothers, Montpensier and Beaujolois, came to the western country. On arriving in Pittsburgh, then a small village, they found one or two emigres, who had formerly filled prominent stations under the ancienne regime, who were now earning a scanty subsistence in carrying on some little business of merchandise. One of them, the Chevalier duBac, one of the worthiest of men, and an admirable philosopher, kept a little shop, then denominated, par excellence, a confectionery. The articles, and the only ones, by the way, entitling the chevalier's establishment to this attractive name, were the kernels of hazelnuts, walnuts and peach stones, enclosed in an envelope of burnt maple sugar, fabricated by the skilful hands of the chevalier himself. DuBac was the most popular citizen of the village; he had a monkey of admirable qualities, and his pointer (Sultan), could, like the dog of the Arabian Nights, tell counterfeit money from good; at least, the honest folks who supplied our litle market with chickens and butter thought so, and that was the same thing. It was amusing to hear the master of the shop calling his two familiars to aid him in selecting the good from the bad, ""leven penny-bitts." "Allons Sultan, tell dese good ladie de good money from de counterfait." Then followed the important consultation between the dog and the monkey; Pug grinned and scratched his sides; Sultan smelt and in due time scraped the money

*Copied from the Cincinnati Chronicle, into the Pittsburgh Gazette of April 5, 1831.

into the drawer. As there were no counterfeit "leven-pences" Sultan seldom failed.-"Madame," would my friend say to the blowzy country lass, "Sultan is like de Pope, he is infalliable."-Sultan and Bijou laid the foundation of this excellent man's fortune.-they brought crowds of custom to the shop; and in two or three years he was enabled to convert his little business into a handsome fancy store. An attraction was then added to the establishment which diverted a portion of the public admiration from Sultan and the monkey; this was a Dutch clock with a goodly portion of gilding, and two or three white and red figures in front; before striking it played a waltz. It was inestimable; this music had never been heard in the west, and those who have been brought up amidst the everlasting grinding of our present museums can have no conception of the excitement caused by our chevalier's clock. In those days every unique piece of furniture or rare toy was believed to have formed a part of the spolia opima of the French revolution, and most generally they were set down as the property of the Queen of France. It was soon insinuated abroad that the Chevalier's clock formed one of the rare ornaments of the Boudoir of the unfortunate Maria Antoinette. When he was asked how much it cost, he evaded the question with admirable casuistry. "Ah, mon ami," he would say with sincere tristease, "the French revolution produce some terrible effect; it was worth fifteen hundred franche guiney." That, and the dog and the monkey were worth to the chevalier 15,000 dollars, for he realized this sum in a few years, from a foundation of a few pounds of sugar and a peck of hazelnuts.

Such was the chevalier DuBac in his Magazin, and he was a perfect illustration of the French character of that day; it would accommodate itself to any situation in life; it enabled the Minister of Marine to become, like Bedredden, a pastry cook, and young Egalite, the present King of France, a schoolmaster in Canada. But this is only one side of the picture; DuBac, when he closed his shop, and entered into society, was the delight of his auditory; he was an accomplished scholar, possessed the most polished manners and habits of "lavieille cour." He was a younger son or as the French people call it, he was the 'cadet' of a noble family.

He had traveled much and observed profoundly. He had been to the 'Holy Land,' not exactly as a plamer, but being 'attache' a la legation Francaise' at Constantinople, of which his relation, Sauf Boeuf, was the head, he took the opportunity of traveling through as much of Asia as was usually examined by European travelers.

Such was my early friend DuBac, to whose instructions and fine belles lettres acquirements I am indebted for some of the most unalloyed enjoyments of my life, by opening to me some of the richest treasurers of French literature; and such was the man whom the sons of Orleans found in a frontier American village. I do not remember the definite destination of the interesting strangers; but certain it is, that the chevalier DuBac induced them to while away a much longer period in Pittsburgh than could have been their original intention. He proposed to General Neville, whose house was always the temple of hospitality, where he was in the habit of dining every Sunday, and at whose table and fireside the unfortunate emigre was sure to find a hearty welcome, to introduce the travelers. The General at first received the proposition with sadness. He said he had been a soldier of the Revolution, the intimate of Rochambeau and Lafayette, and of course entertained a feeling of the deepest respect for the memory of the unfortunate Louis, not as a monarch, but as a most amiable and virtuous man. He insisted that no good could spring from the infamous exciter of the Jacobins, the profligate Egalite. "Mais mon General, (said the chevalier, with a shrug of the shoulders, and most melancholy contortion of his wrinkled features,) ils sont dans la plus grande misere, et ils ont ete chasse, comme nous autres, par ces vilains sans culottes." The chevalier knew his man and his bon hommie of the General prevailed. “Eh! bien! chevalier, allezrendre nos devoirs aux voyageurs, et qu 'ils dinent chez nous demain." The strangers accepted the courtesy, and became intimate with him and attached to the family of the kind hearted American; the charms of the conversation of the Duke of Orleans, and his various literary attainments, soon obliterated for the moment the horrible career of his father from the minds of his hearers. If my boyish recollection is faithful, he was rather taciturn, and melancholy; he would be perfectly abstracted from conversa

tion, sometimes for half an hour, looking steadfastly at the coal fire that blazed in the grate, and when roused from his reverie, he would apologize for this breach of bienseance, and call one of the children who were learning French to read to him. On these occasions I have read to him many passages selected by him, from Telemaque; the beautiful manner in which he read the description of Calypso's Grotto is still fresh in my memory. He seldom adverted to the scenes of the revolution, but he criticised the battles of that period, particularly that of Jemmapes, with such discrimination as to convince the military men of Pittsburgh, of whom there were several, that he was peculiarly fitted to shine in the profession of arms.

Montpensier, the second brother, has left no mark on the tablet of memory by which I can recall him; but Beaujolais, the young and interesting Beaujolais, is still before my mind's eye. There was something romantic in his character, and Madame deGenis' romance, the 'Knights of the Swan,' in which that charming writer so beautifully apostrophises her young ward, had just prepared every youthful bosom to lean towards this accomplished boy. He was tall and graceful, and playful as a child. He was a universal favorite. He was a few years older than myself; but when together, we appeared to be of the same age. A transient blush of melancholy would occasionally pass over his fine features, in the midst of his gayest amusements, but it disappeared quickly, like the white cloud of summer. then ascribed it to a boyish recollection of the luxuries and splendors of the Palais Royal, in which he had passed his early life, which he might be contrasting with the simple domestic scene which was passing before him. It was, however, probably in some measure imputable to the first sensation of that disease, which, in a few short years afterwards, carried him to his grave.


One little circumstance made a singular impression on me. I was standing one day with this group of Frenchmen, on the bank of the Monongahela, when a countryman of theirs, employed in the quarter master department, as a laborer in taking care of flat boats, passed by. Perre Cabot, or, as he was familiarly called, French Peter, was dressed in a blanket capot, with a hood in place of a hat, in the manner

« 이전계속 »