The John Watts Jr. Memorial - Trinity Churchyard

Born on August 27, 1749, John Watts, Jr. could not possibly have had a more enviable pedigree.   His father was the wealthy Scottish-born John Watts who had married Anne DeLancey, a daughter of one of the most powerful colonial families in New York.  John Jr.'s grandparents were from the Schuyler and Van Cortlandt families.

As John Watts, Sr. served in the colonial government—a member of the Colonial Assembly and the King’s Council—young John grew up in luxury and privilege.  The Watts country estate, Rose Hill, had been the DeLancey country home.  It covered more than 130 acres from the East River to what would become Fourth Avenue, from 21^st to about 30^th Streets. 

John Watts, Jr. was graduated from King’s College in May, 1769, giving the valedictory address at the age of 19.  Within a few years he was appointed Royal Recorder of New York.  Although a clerical post, it was nonetheless impressive.  Watts was responsible for various administrative responsibilities, like assisting the Mayor; as well as judicial functions.

As the clouds of rebellion formed, it would appear that a rift grew between Watts and his father.  An ardent Tory, John Watts, Sr. fled to England in 1779 following increasing threats from rebels and after being “attainted with treason” by the New York State Legislature. That same year the Governor appointed Commissioners of Forfeitures to “dispose of the confiscated estates” of Loyalists.  Rose Hill and the Watts lower Manhattan townhouse were seized and auctioned in 1784.

The very fact that John Watts, Jr. and his brother Robert were allowed to re-purchase the family homes strongly suggests that the men were patriots.  Not long after his parents had left the country, John Watts, Jr. reinforced the Watts-DeLancey alliance by marrying Jane DeLancey.  They would eventually have 11 children and took possession of Rose Hill.

Watts was the only former British official in New York who went on to hold American office.  In 1791 he was elected to the New York State Assembly; and two years later to the United States Congress.  But despite his great wealth and political standing, Watts suffered personal pain.  One by one he buried his wife and 10 of his children.

John Watts had been a life-long friend of John George Leake, who married Watts’s younger sister, Margaret.  When their only son, John George, died at the age of eight in 1793, Leake formulated a plan to carry on his name.  He proposed to leave Watts’s only surviving son, Robert, his vast fortune--with one caveat.  Robert would have to change his surname to Leake.  Against his father’s vocal opposition, Robert did so. 

When Leake died in his mansion at No. 32 Park Row on June 2, 1827, Robert inherited his uncle’s estate.   The strain it caused between him and his father is evidenced in Watts’s grandson’s writing later “John Watts was opposed to his son’s acceptance of the terms of the will, and Robert refrained from speaking of the matter.”  Ironically, shortly after the will was settled, “Robert Watts died of congestion of the lungs, following a severe cold contracted during a game of ball."    Biographer Frank Allaben in his 1908 John Watts De Peyster explained, "He left no will and died unmarried, his father becoming his heir."   It was the embodiment of cruel irony.

Already wealthy, John Watts had no need for the Leake fortune.  Concerned with social conditions (he was a founder of the New-York Dispensary and became its president in 1827), he used the Leake estate to found the Leake and Watts Orphan House in the City of New York on March 7, 1831.  He turned over his beloved Rose Hill to the institution.  It was among the first of the charitable organizations for child welfare in America. 

John Watts, Jr. died in 1836.  By the last decade of the 19^th century his Leake and Watts Orphan House had moved twice as the city continued to move northward, engulfing the former open countryside.  When, in 1890, plans were laid to move the orphanage out of Manhattan, to Yonkers, Watts’s grandson General John Watts DePeyster, was concerned that Watts’s memory among New Yorkers would fade into oblivion.

His solution was to commission sculptor George E. Bissell to design a “heroic size” bronze statue.  On July 22, 1892 The Sun reported that the finished sculpture had been shown at the Henry-Bonnard bronze foundry on West 16^th Street the day before.   The article noted that the foundry had worked on the statue for nine months; saying it “is nine feet high, and weighs 3,250 pounds.”  The Sun added ‘it is considered to be a good piece of work.”

DePeyster had provided Bissell with a bust of Watts, sculpted from life by Ball Hughes, to use as a model.  The completed statue would be mounted on a six-foot high granite pedestal inscribed with Watts’s name on the front.   Earlier The New York Times had described the figure saying “The statue represents Judge Watts costumed in ermine-bordered robes and wearing a wig, as he appeared in 1775.”

DePeyster agreed to have the monument erected in Trinity churchyard, where his grandfather had been buried, although, according to The Times, his “first desire was to have it placed in Central Park.”

As the unveiling neared, The Times gave a more detailed description on July 22, 1892.  “The cloak is not only heavily furred, but has big sleeves and falls in a hundred solid folds, while the curly wig descends majestically on his shoulders.  The handsome stern features carry off all this bewigging and begowning very well…The Judge’s left hand is resting against his waist, his right hand hangs down and holds a scroll, while his right foot emerges from the long folds of his gown.”

The monument just over a decade after its unveiling.  John Watts DePeyster, 1908 (copyright expired)

The article was perhaps the first to credit the statue as being Bissell’s greatest work.  “In fact, it is probable that Mr. Bissell has hit on his very best statue in this instance.”  It was an opinion that would be repeated for years.   In 1910 The New Century Book of Facts called it “The best work this sculptor did.” And on August 31 1920, following the death of George Edwin Bissell, the New York Herald wrote “What is considered by art critics as his masterpiece, a statue of Chancellor John Watts, stands in Trinity Church yard.”

The powerful statue of John Watts, now having gained the pleasant green patina of age, still stands in the churchyard among the graves of much more familiar names like Robert Fulton and Alexander Hamilton.  His charity still operates under the name Leake and Watts Services, Inc.  But despite his grandson’s valiant attempts to keep his memory alive, John Watts, Jr. is largely forgotten and his bewigged, robed figure a mere curiosity to the tourists who file by.

18th century tombstones surround the statue.  In the background the pyramidal stone grave marker of Alexander Hamilton can be seen.

 photographs by the author

The Chester A. Arthur Statue -- Madison Square

On November 18, 1886 Chester A. Arthur died in his beloved home on Lexington Avenue.  He had became the 21^st President of the United States when James A. Garfield was assassinated five years earlier.  Within six months of his death a committee had been formed to erect a statue of the former President.  Interestingly enough, the statue being discussed was intended “to distinguish his grave in the Rural Cemetery near Albany,” as explained by The Sun on May 7, 1887.

At the first meeting, held in the Chamber of Commerce, “It was then voted that not more than $10,000 should be expended for this purpose,” according to the newspaper.  But by the time of the next meeting, just a few weeks later on May 6, The Sun said “Already more money had been offered than was needed, and many gentlemen who had not been present at the first meeting were anxious to contribute.”

With an excess of funds and many other wealthy citizens eager to contribute to a memorial, a second committee was chosen “to take such other action as might be necessary to erect a statue of Arthur in this City.”  Empowered with the influx of funds, committee president Cornelius Bliss estimated the group could spent three times as much on the New York City statue as it put aside for the Albany monument.  The New-York Tribune reported on May 7 “The statue, it is expected, will cost about $30,000.”

As funds poured in, the committee selected Ephraiam Keyser as its sculptor.  Five long years later the nine-foot high clay model of the statue was ready for exhibition.  “The former President is represented in the act of speaking at a Cabinet meeting,” reported the New-York Tribune on April 13, 1892.  “He has a document folded in his left hand, which is hanging by his side.  He has just taken off his glasses and is making a gesture with them in his right hand.  The likeness is said to be excellent, and the pose easy and dignified.”

The New York Times added, “The figure is erect, the shoulders are thrown back, and one foot is thrust ahead of the other.  The Prince Albert coat is buttoned close to the figure, the right arm is bent at right angles at the elbow, and the fingers toy with the eyeglasses…The bared head is thrown slightly backward, and the eyes gaze out on an ascending plane.”

On February 9, 1893 The Sun printed a depiction of the Keyser statue (copyright expired)

Casting and finishing the bronze statue would take about four months.  All that stood in the way was the approval of the committee.  “Sculptor Keyser will adopt whatever suggestions as to minor changes in the details of the figure are made by members of the committee, and the statue will then be cast in bronze.”

Perhaps Keyser’s downfall was his over-the-top design of the base.  “There was a large circular foundation, and in front of the statue of Arthur were two female figures, one on either side, bearing aloft a globe meant to inclose a lamp or an electric light,” said The New York Times.

The work on the statue went ahead and on December 26, 1892 it was exhibited in the foundry of Henry Bonnard Bronze Company at No. 430 West 16^th Street.  “The statue is nine feet two inches high and the weight is 1,800 pounds,” reported The Evening World the following day.  “It has been cast in one piece with the exception of the plinth.”

The statue was intended to be erected in the traffic circle at Central Park, at Fifth Avenue and 59^th Streets.  The Park Commissioners visited the foundry on January 13, 1892 and were far less pleased than the statue committee.

“We have looked carefully over the statue of the late President Arthur, and we are compelled to report that the work is, in our opinion, not equal to the average of the sculpture in the Park, and therefore cannot recommend it to the Park Board.  We recommend that an effort be made to raise [the] standard of accepted work hereafter.”

Keyser received the news and commented “It must be pretty bad, if it is as bad as that.”

Exactly one month later, on February 13, 1893, The Sun chimed in on the side of the Park Commissioners.  “The rejection of the Arthur statue is, or should be, the beginning of a new era in the administration of park affairs—an era of discrimination, judgment, and good taste in all that concerns public art.”

On June 10, 1899, six years after the statue was rejected, the New-York Tribune wrote “So little noise was made over the work that it sank out of the sight of the general public, and no doubt many persons will be surprised to hear that the statue will be unveiled in Madison Square next Tuesday afternoon.”

The newspaper made no mention of the sculpture’s critical failure, or that in the meantime the committee had commissioned George Edwin Bissell to start from scratch.  Somewhat surprisingly, the now-acceptable work by Bissell was a near copy of Keyser’s statue.  Even the hand-held eyeglasses carried over to the new design.  The chair behind the figure “is a fac-simile of one he used when in the White House,” reported the Tribune.

The monument was unveiled on June 13, 1899.  It was a rather understated affair considering the prominence of the honoree.  “The ceremony attending the unveiling was brief,” reported The Sun the next day.  “Two or three hundred invited guests sat in the chairs placed around the platform which was erected in front of the statue.”

The most noticeable difference between the Keyser monument and the completed Bissell design was the base, designed by esteemed architect James Brown Lord.  The New-York Tribune described the restrained pedestal as “of polished Quincy granite, eight feet high, surmounted by a plinth one foot high.  The general aspect is one of repose and dignity, and in conformity with the effort which has been made in this direction is the simple inscription which will [appears] on the pedestal: Chester Alan Arthur.  Twenty-first President of the United States of America.”

Not long after the unveiling, vandals climbed the statue and removed the bronze eyeglasses of the President.  George E. Bissell recast the spectacles and these, too, were promptly stolen.  They lasted until April 1912.

Around 1900 the northern rim of Madison Square was still lined with brownstone homes.  A hansom cab (left) and a peddler's dray share 26th Street.  A close inspection reveals Arthur's missing eyeglasses.  photo by Byron Company, from the collection of the Museum of the City of New York http://collections.mcny.org/C.aspx?VP3=SearchResult_VPage&VBID=24UAYWBLP01M&SMLS=1&RW=1280&RH=915

Bissell told The New York Times “A third pair of rims were then modeled and cast in bronze, and these were placed securely in the hand, and now these have been stolen, making the hand an enigma as to its pose.”

The Times agreed, saying “The fact that something is missing about the statue is plain to any one.  In his left hand the President holds a half open book, while the position of the right and the way the fingers are held indicates the article which is missing.”

Bissell, whom The New York Times referred to as “the venerable sculptor,” was annoyed.  “He suggests that it might be a good thing to have policemen watch the city statues at night, if no other way can be found of protecting them from those whom the police now call ‘the statue thieves,’” reported the newspaper on April 5, 1912.

More than a century after Chester A. Arthur’s bronze likeness lost its third pair of eyeglasses his right hand remains empty.  Apparently the President will never get a fourth pair.

photographs by the author