134 



Garden and Forest. 



[Number 213. 



IT is to be regretted that a small fund cannot be raised to pur- 

 chase Poe's cottage at Fordham and remove it, for perpetual 

 preservation, to one of the new parks nearby. "Untillast au- 

 tumn," says a recent writer in the Epoch, "the cottage had 

 been kept in comparatively good repair by a widow, a woman 

 of culture, who took great pride in the place and lived in 

 the house. But the lady moved away on account of ill 

 health, and a 'To Let'sign is nowtackedon thecottage. The 

 wealthy residents of this neighborhood look upon the little 

 pastoral home as an eyesore, and are tired of answering the 

 many questions constantly asked regarding it. The cottage 

 looks forsaken ; the doors are barred ; across the windows 

 are nailed boards, and everything about the place is going 

 into decay. As it was opened for me a few days ago, 

 there was a musty and damp smell about every room. 

 The thin floor is giving way, andthegroundbeneath exhales 

 a malarial dampness through the room where Poe wrote, 

 and even the humblest people will not live in the house, 

 owing to its unhealthy condition. I was told that the 

 place was still visited by nearly a thousand people each 

 year during the spring, summer and autumn months, and 

 everything is pointed out : the room where Poe wrote his 

 'Annabel Lee,' and where, on January 30th, 1847, death 

 released his child-wife, Virginia Clemm, from her period of 

 suffering. But the historic pastoral cottage has seen its 

 day, and, with the march of progress, it will soon be de- 

 molished, and its existence serve only as a memory, and 

 to be told of by the ' oldest inhabitant ' in the years to 

 come." This is a very new country, and it will grow into 

 a riper and more mellow age if some of the links which 

 connect it with its earlier history are preserved. We there- 

 fore commend this interesting cottage in its distress to the 

 literary men of New York, in the hope that some existing 

 club or some special association of public-spirited men 

 may be induced to rescue it from threatened destruction. 



I 



The Story of a Suburban Place. — I. 



N one of the large suburban communities just out of Bos- 

 ton, something like ten years ago, there was a wild-looking 

 piece of land that rose abruptly from the street. A fringe 

 of houses stood along the highway, but back of these there 

 rose a wilderness of ledges and woods. An unkempt lane 

 branched from the street here and curved up the slope. At 

 the point where this stony byway disappeared from view, look- 

 ing up from the thoroughfare, a picturesque house snuggled 

 up against a Pine and Savin-covered ledge. 



Few persons then appreciated the real value of land like this, 

 and population for the most part had kept to the level ground. 

 The lot was long and somewhat narrow, running from the 

 lane beyond the point where it curved around nearly to a par- 

 allel with the highway below, and running down-hill to 

 within a hundred feet or so of tlie street. It had an area 

 of something over 30,000 feet, and was bought at a moderate 

 price. 



The land, mainly a rugged ledge, sloped abruptly both to 

 the eastward and southward. A former owner had cleared 

 most of the wild growth away, with tlie exception of that about 

 the ledge, and had planted an orchard on the southern slope, 

 where the neglected trees were makinga slow growth. The land 

 on either side had, for the greater part, also been cleared, but 

 was mostly covered with a young second growth. The coun- 

 try, to the northward, was an almost unbroken wilderness of 

 wooded hills, from which most of the timber had been cut 

 twenty years before. This wilderness, near the lot, had been 

 laid out in streets, which rambled in pleasant curves among 

 the hills, and a little grading and blasting had been done, but 

 the grades, for the most part, were fearful in their steepness. 



Suburban street-railways were then unknown, and the near- 

 est steam railway was almost a mile away from the greater part 

 of the region, and the property had lain idle ; but over the rail- 

 way that accommodates this suburb there are now probably 

 more trains in one hour than then passed over the line in the 

 course of the entire day. 



A third of the lot near the lane was sold to a friend for the 

 sake of having a good neighbor, with the drive-way reserved 

 to give access to the remainder. The site for the house was 

 easily chosen. The considerations were, beside accessibility, 

 the best possible view, together with plenty of sunshine and 

 shelter from the cold winds. The southerly slope, close to the 



ledge, seemed an ideal situation. The hill, rising behind, cut 

 off the sweep of the northerly and north-westerly winds, while 

 the prevailing winds of summer were from the southward and 

 south-westward. The view was superb, commanding an un- 

 interrupted range over something like two-thirds of the horizon. 



The architect entered happily into the spirit of the scene, 

 and made the best of his opportunities. The house composed 

 admirably with the location. It was a two-story cottage of eight 

 rooms, with basement of stone, furnished by blasting out the 

 ledge for the cellar, the greater portion of tlrree sides of which 

 were above ground, on account of tlie slope. The wide-angled 

 gables and broad eaves gave the house something of the Swiss 

 character that harmonized with the rugged location. It was 

 decidedly picturesque, with the merit of no uneasy striving 

 for picturesque effect. Not a little amusement was afforded 

 by the comments of towns-people who watched with interest 

 the building operations. " No two windows alike, and not 

 one of them over another. It's a sight to behold," said one. 

 " How are you ever going to get there ? " " How do you ex- 

 pect to get water on top of that hill ? " were other queries. 



The approach, however, was gradual enough, around by 

 the lane and the drive-way, though looking directly up from 

 the highway the house did tower up startlingly. The grocer's 

 men and the like, together with casual visitors, always came 

 toiling straight up across lots, and were pretty well winded on 

 reaching the door. But, in spite of the commanding view and 

 the impression of towering height conveyed by the almost pre- 

 cipitous relation of the site to the street below, the elevation 

 was only about sixty feet above sea-level, and something like 

 fifteen feet less than that above the main street. As to the 

 water question, since the source of the town-supply was about 

 twice as high as the ridge-pole of the house, no difficulty was 

 experienced. 



■The house proved as pleasant and convenient as it was un- 

 conventional. The windows were made broad, so as to admit 

 as much light and sunshine as possible. More wall-space was 

 gained in the rooms, and concentration of liglit, together with 

 the effect of bay-windows without the expense, by bringing the 

 windows in the living-room and dining-room close togethef at 

 the corners. The hall was made large, with a fire-place oppo- 

 site the door, and an entrance to the sitting-room by double 

 sliding doors that were seldom closed it was practically a por- 

 tion of the living-room, which thus was about doubled in size. 

 A projection of one story, which gave a pleasant variety to the 

 exterior, was devoted to a small library and study, but there 

 proved to be some objections to a study off the hall, even in 

 that quiet neighborhood, and the establishment of a den in a 

 portion of the yet unfinished attic space is contemplated. 



The windows were left without blinds, which are rattling 

 nuisances. In that breezy place the sunlight seldom becomes 

 oppressive, and in the summer sufficient shade is given by 

 awnings, which aid in agreeably clothing the house. The com- 

 mon American awning, however, is a hot-air trap, holding the 

 heat in its hood like a hot-air balloon. Therefore the example 

 of Mexico and other southern countries was followed by mak- 

 ing the awnings a foot or so wider on each side than the win- 

 dows and not closing in the sides, which gave ample shade and 

 allowed the hot air to escape freely. 



It seems a pity, however, that the most of us are debari-ed 

 from making application of the experience gained in building 

 a house by building over again and carrying out the ideas thus 

 gained. One thing learned is that all windows should be case- 

 ments, after the sensible continental European fashion, so that 

 the benefit of the full air-space of the window-opening may be 

 had whenever desired. We Angio-Saxons have carried our 

 sliding window-sashes into all parts of the world that our race 

 has colonized ; even the most unsuitable climates, like Ber- 

 muda, the British West Indies and CaUfornia. In those warm 

 climates, where all the air circulation is needed that can be 

 obtained, half the window-space at least must thus be closed 

 by glass. The same holds true of our northern American 

 summers, which, with their humidity, often give us the addi- 

 tional annoyance of causing the sash so to swell in its frame 

 that the utmost exertion cannot stir it, thus depriving us of 

 fresh air altogether. It is possible now to construct casement- 

 windows so as to be as tight as needed. The ideal window 

 is a double casement, with the outer one so constructed that 

 the frame will hold glass in the winter, to be removed in sum- 

 mer and replaced by wire netting to keep out the flies and 

 mosquitoes. 



The lower story of the house was clapboarded, and the up- 

 per portions were shingled, and the whole painted. The colors 

 are harmonious, and the paint has stood phenomenally well, 

 looking practically as fresh to-day as when applied nine years 

 ago. But if the house were to be built again it would be plas- 



