Mar 21, 2007
Window into History
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A romantic mystery unfolds
along the Leather Man’s trail
Was it a case of unrequited love that gave Westchester and Fairfield counties one of their most colorful historical characters? Historians will probably never know what drove a young man to our fair countryside and caused him to complete a 370-mile path from the Connecticut River and Long Island Sound to the Hudson River on a schedule as regular as clockwork every 34 days. Farmers and housewives used to set their watches and mark their calendars by the Leather Man’s appearance at their doorsteps and farms.
This itinerant gentleman dressed all in leather, literally from the hat on his head to the sabots on his feet, was first seen in our area in 1858. For 31 years, until his death in 1889, the Leather Man led the lonely life of a tramp, receiving handouts from the villagers and farmers along his route. He seldom spoke, didn’t work for his handouts, never took money, except on rare occasions, and although he didn’t seem to accept offerings of tobacco, was never without the commodity, which, in the end, probably caused his demise.
The Leather Man’s legend has been passed on from generation to generation of Westchester and Fairfield families, especially those families who were visited along his route. It is hard to separate fact from fancy 100-plus years after his death in a cave on an Ossining farm. We will attempt to pull together his story as best we can from the articles written about him over the last 70 years. Here in South Salem, we are lucky to have had the eyewitness account of his visits to the Bouton farm on Bouton Road given by the venerable Louise Bouton. She remembered seeing him as a young child and was quoted in a May 20, 1979 article in the Sunday News Magazine in an article written by Paul Good. Ms. Bouton was born April 27, 1881. She died in South Salem at age 104!
A knock on the drainpipe
The way Miss Bouton told the story to her good friend Emelda Attridge, the Leather Man would knock on the Bouton family’s drainpipe to let them know he was there, as if they had not seen him approach up the hill from the main highway. He would consume his repast on the side porch, but let’s let Louise tell the story in her own words. And remember, she was a young child of seven or eight when the leather-clad tramp passed through the town. This is what the 97-year old Miss Bouton told reporter Paul Good.
“He always came out of the west, going east, and he’d go down the county quite a ways after leaving us. I don’t know if it was to Katonah or Mt. Kisco, but they all saw him down there. He’d stop perhaps once a month and knock at the side door for food. Kind of stooped, never talked, never looked at you and he never worked.
“Mother would give him lunch and he’d set on the porch we had on the east side of the house and eat it, and what was left he’d wrap up and put it in his pocket. I don’t remember being afraid of him, but we children did get out of the way when he came. Healthy? Oh, yes, wasn’t nothing the matter with him outside of the way he dressed. I don’t know what made him do as he did. That was his business. He’d just eat and off he’d go.”
That scene was repeated all along his circuit. Sometimes he’d spend the night in one of several caves that he knew of along the route, or he would construct a crude hut in a farmer’s field, out of the way of the farmer. He was neat in his housekeeping ways, always leaving the caves ready for his next visit, with the sparse utensils washed and ready and the pine boughs straightened and held in place with heavier chestnut logs or like branches so that his bed would be waiting after his day’s journey. The Leather Man walked about 10 to 12 miles a day, no matter what season and what the weather. Only the great March Blizzard of 1888 slowed him down. That month he was noted to be four days behind schedule by families awaiting his appearance.
Taking Danbury, Conn., in the vicinity across from Putnam Lake, as a starting point, the Leather Man’s route went east toward Haddam on the Connecticut River, then south toward Saybrook and Bridgeport. From there he walked to Norwalk, turned westward toward New Canaan and into Lewisboro. His path crossed into Pound Ridge, where one of his more well-known caves still exists within Ward Pound Ridge Reservation. From there his travels took him through Bedford Hills, Briarcliff, Ossining, Croton, Peekskill, Yorktown and back to Brewster. Occasionally, the Leather Man wandered as far south as Greenwich, Mamaroneck and perhaps, North Yonkers.
Who was he?
Although little has ever been proved about the Leather Man’s mysterious origins, he is thought to have been French, perhaps from Lyons. The name most often attributed to him is Jules Bourglay, although this name has never been verified by French governmental records. It is said that he was but a peasant lad who fell in love with a prosperous leather manufacturer’s daughter. Her name was Marguerite Laron. Mr. Bourglay proved himself favorably in the leather business and was betrothed to Ms. Laron against the wishes of her prosperous father when tragedy struck. The leather business took a nosedive and the company was ruined. Mr. Bourglay was run off by his prospective father-in-law and the marriage was forbidden. In desperation and madness, Mr. Bourglay exiled himself to the United States and took up the life of a penitent itinerant traveler atoning for his grave sins far from his beloved Marguerite. One Connecticut writer said he “went about clad in the substance of his ruin.”
Since leather was his trade, he fashioned himself a suit of leather, hinged and shingled to fend off the inclement weather. The heavy knee-length coat and bib high overalls weighed about 60 pounds. His leather sabot-style shoes weighed 10 pounds.
It is said that he wore nothing under this get-up so protective was it.
Mr. Bourglay was stocky in appearance, about 5’7”, had a swarthy complexion, shaggy brown hair that curled from under his cap, and blue-gray eyes. He seldom looked at anyone he met, always averting his eyes. His age was anybody’s guess, but, if the romance story is in any way true, one would imagine that the leather man was in his 20s when he first appeared in Westchester County in 1858. Photographs of the era are not easily reproduced with clarity, especially since the gentleman declined to have his picture taken. Many families took covert photographs of their monthly visitor, further clouding a sharp image. His step was said to be firm and “springy,” his form erect as he plodded along, aided by his hickory walking staff.
His heavy shoes probably clunked as he followed the dirt roads, and his leather suit invariably squeaked as leather is prone to do. We can only imagine the odor that accompanied him ... the smell of leather, sweat and dust from the road.
Here he comes
Nevertheless, he was only occasionally tormented by the village youth as he passed through the towns along his circuit. The small children probably hid from him and peeked out from behind rain barrels and the side porches until they knew that he meant them no harm. It is said that he would not accept money from adults, but that he would take the pennies offered to him by children. He would leave these coppers on fence posts afterwards for the children to retrieve later.
The Leather Man was unusual for his era or any time. Around the time of the Civil War it was not uncommon to see tramps and hobos passing through our towns. They came north into the area on the railroads and tramped the countryside in search of handouts and work. Most of these men would pass though once and not be seen again. The Leather Man was different. He was a common sight for 30 years. When Connecticut wrote a vagrancy law into its Constitution after the Civil War, the Leather Man was excluded from it. He was an institution, a public figure. He was welcomed in all the communities he passed through. When he died in 1889, he was lamented. Mr. Bourglay, better known as the Leather Man, has become one of the more well-known mysteries of our local history. His origins remain unknown, his rationale for a different way of life will forever present an enigma, but we love his story, whatever it may be.
Next week, we will continue to explore the legend of this man and his passing from the 19th Century scene.
© Copyright 2008 by Hersam Acorn Newspapers
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