New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1917-03-11
The Paintings, Audnbon's
Life York, Haze Been
Kept Effectively From
Publicity Since 1868,
Wien the Society Bought
Them. New York City Is
Not 4bbreciative, Either

own approach startle the wild. beauti-
full creatures that seemed as docilc as
any Of their tame companions"
In view of the present cramped and
confirming quarters of the old Audubon
house it is not without interest to read
what the master of the home once said
70 a caller;
How kind it is of you to come and
see ME; and how wise, too. to leave that
crazy city Do you know" he continued,
Il often wonder that men consent TO
swelter and fret away their lives amid
those hot bricks and pestilent vapors,
when the woods and fields are all so
nearw
If there is such thing as commune
cation between this and the spirit world
It must be trial of trials for Audubon
to see his former estate shorn, first, Of
its beauty, then of its size, and now
hemmed in by fortlike buttress at the
back, the only six-track railroad in
America on the front, and row of
garages in the small remaining strip not
already occupied. A more forlorn, desc
late and dispiriting section is not to be
found in the city, nor within a days
walk of the city, than the old home in
which the greatest ornithologist Of all
time lived during the zenith of his ca
reer, and whose occupancy brought dis
tinction and renown to New York City.
New York is sadly negligent of her
historic treasures. Unlike Boston and
Philadelphia, her Colonial buildings Of
a municipal character have all disap-
appeared. The preservation of her
other two pre-Reyolutionary treasures
Fraunces's Tavern and the Jumel Man
sion, were largely the work Of private
individuals before the city could Le IN
duced to display any interest. Poe
Park and Cottage are suffering now
from lack of funds and are dependent
upon voluntary offerings for their up
keep.
With the Audubon house the case is
even more disheartening. 1t apparently
hasn't friend in the world. Tin cans.
old papers, debris Of all kinds, clutter
up the immediate yard. The porch is
falling into decay and the erstwhile
trim little fence and gate are IN the
last stages of final ruin. There are
many thousands Of Audubon societies
in all parts Of the country, and it has
been suggested that, if concerted
move were made to restore this old
home of Audubon, good results might
follow.
The city has done something to pre-
serve the memory of Audubon. Audu-
bon Avenue has been called after him.
Several apartment houses bear his
name. A motion picture show is named
tor him. A telephone central Office is
Audubon" although those who call it
out, followed by number, may be m
different to the privilege. Somebody
way back in 1852 proposed to erect a
statue in Central Park in honor of the
great naturalist. but, somehow or other,
the big idea was lost in the shuttle along
with the project to hang in the misty
future. in a mythical wing of the New
York Historical Society, the 600-odd
Audubon watercolors.
Practically all of Audubon's personal
effects are owned by the City Of New
York-the gifts of his grandchildren.
The Museum of Natural History has his
gun and his hunting shirt, his leggins
OF leather and other field appurtenances.
But his famous drawings-the most
valuable of all his personal belongings.
because they represent what the man
stood for himself, which in reality ara
Audubon-are buried in the building of
an organization which buries the flag
staff of Fort Sumter
The original charter OF the New
York Historical Society signifies that
the organization was formed to pre-
serve the history of the United States,
and especially the history of the City
.t<xv4 W.