Henry K. Brown's Much-Maligned "Abraham Lincoln" Statue - Union Square

Lincoln's suit worn with a Roman toga caused much comment -- photo by Alice Lum

In the years immediately following the assassination of Abraham Lincoln on the night of Good Friday, April 14, 1865, grieving communities across the nation initiated plans to erect memorials and statues to the fallen President.   Among the first was New York City.

The Union League Club started the ball rolling. In 1868 the Republican political organization began selling “subscriptions” to garner donations from the community to pay for the project. As the money flowed in, the Club commissioned sculptor Henry Kirke Brown to design the monument.

Brown was well-known to New Yorkers, having produced the masterful equestrian statue of George Washington that stood at the south end of Union Square Park. The bronze statue was recognized internationally as among of the greatest of contemporary equestrian works.

Brown’s efforts in depicting Abraham Lincoln would fall short of the mark in the public’s eye.

By September of 1871 the monument was nearly finished. Cast by the Wood Bronze Company of Philadelphia, the statue had been completed a year earlier and carefully guarded from public view in a bonded warehouse on South Street.  Weighing almost 3,000 pounds, it stood just under 11 feet tall. Brown had inexplicably chosen to dress the President in modern attire while wearing a Roman toga over his shoulder. In his left hand he held the Proclamation of Emancipation.

New Yorkers gathered on September 17 as workers assembled the monument.

The base of the monument, the largest stone ever quarried in the United States and weighing over 17 tons, was placed on the 9-1/2 square foot sub-base over a 5-foot deep foundation.  A second stone, at 16,000 pounds, was topped by an 8,000-pound cap; forming a 24-foot high pedestal for the statue. The gray granite blocks from Dix Island, Maine had been highly polished and etched with 36 stars representing each state of the Union during the Lincoln administration.

And then the statue was erected.

The New York Times reported “A frightful object has been placed in Union-square. It is said to be a statue of a man who deserves to be held in lasting remembrance as a true patriot, a sincere, unselfish, noble-hearted chief in times of great trouble and perplexity—Abraham Lincoln. But it does not resemble Mr. Lincoln.”

The article lambasted Brown’s choice of Lincoln’s clothing. “The mind has not conceived such a pair of pantaloons as that which the artist has put on this statue...the designer of the work has clapped a Roman toga over the upper part of the figure, thus combining the costume of the past and the present in a manner never yet dreamt of by caricaturists.

“There never was such a statue done in this world before. It is like the hideous nightmare which people have after supping on roast pork and lobster salad,” the writer complained.

The newspaper offered to accept subscriptions to remove the statue and ship it to Chicago where “works of art of this kind are highly appreciated.”  It further warned nurse maids to avoid that area of the park, lest the children in their care might mistake the statue for the bogeyman.

The criticisms were unrelenting for decades. When the statue of Benjamin Franklin was unveiled in Printing House Square a year later, the same newspaper sighed with relief at its high quality, saying that the City was “discouraged since Mr. Brown’s ‘Lincoln’ was set up in Union-square.”

The memorial was upgraded in 1875 with a low stone wall, engraved with the words “…with malice toward none; charity toward all.”

By 1875, when the stone wall was erected around the statue's base, commercial interests were creeping onto 14th Street behind -- photo NYPL Collection

The elaborate new setting did not, however, diminish criticism. On January 4, 1896 Architecture and Building wrote “The angularity and ungainliness of the figure are marked, and the effect upon the spectator is painful rather than otherwise. There is nothing in the face to indicate genius, or any noble quality, with perhaps the exception of earnestness of purpose and determination.”

Three years later Layton Crippen wrote a scathing article for The New York Times entitled “Unsightly New York Statues,” in which he included an etching of Brown’s Lincoln.  “New York is just now waking up to the fact that private donors and public committees have been allowed to place a large number of painfully ugly monuments in positions where they can do the most harm…But the most difficult problem is that of doing away with or replacing with tolerable productions the old eyesores.”

By the turn of the century, an ornate cast iron railing had been added to the wall -- photo NYPL Collection



Thirty-six years after its unveiling, the statue was still being panned.  In its October 1917 edition, Art World noted “Perhaps the finest equestrian statue in the United States is the ‘Washington’ in Union Square, New York, by H. K. Brown.  But across the square is the statue of Lincoln, also by Brown, and that is perhaps the worst Lincoln the country had…Here we have the best and worst work of Brown on one square in New York.”

Despite the artistic condemnation, the statue was the site of speeches and celebrations for decades. Flowers adorned the memorial every year on Decoration Day (now known as Memorial Day). In 1877, for instance, with the memory of the Civil War still vivid, the Lincoln statue was the most decorated in the park. A laurel wreath was placed on Lincoln’s head, the statue was wound with sprays of wisteria, begonias and greenery; while a panel spelled out “Emancipation” in white carnations.

Ornate floral garlands embellish the statue for Decoration Day festivities -- photo NYPL Collection

Both the Washington and Lincoln statues sat on triangular traffic islands created by the oval-shape of Union Square. When they were erected, the park was surrounded by elegant brownstone mansions that created a pleasing backdrop for them.

By the early 1920s, 14th Street was lined with tall commercial buildings.  On May 21, 1922 The Times noted that “As the square gave way to business houses, the background and surroundings became less favorable to a showing of…the monuments.”

Lincoln's statue was diminished by the commercial buildings that now lined 14th Street by World War I -- photo NYPL Collection

A plan to renovate Union Square that included moving the statues was proposed. Although the Washington statue sat on the spot where, reportedly, New Yorkers acclaimed the general on Evacuation Day, November 25, 1783 and had stood in its original spot longer than any other statue in the city, the plan was approved.

Lincoln lies rather ungracefully awaiting removal to his new location -- photo NYPL Collection

The two statues were repositioned in a straight line down the middle of the park – Lincoln at the north end facing south, Lafayette in the middle and Washington at the southern tip.

Reminiscent of the speeches and celebrations centered around the Lincoln statue in Victorian times, a ceremony was held here on February 12, 1942 by New York veterans and Boy Scouts.  Sparked by the surprising and demoralizing news of German and Japanese victories, “Lincoln Day” was intended to rally patriotism and optimism among citizens nationwide.  One Chinese-American boy scaled the pedestal to lay a wreath of flowers forming a “V” for victory at Lincoln’s feet.

By 1955 Lincoln had seen better days and The New York Times deemed it “weatherbeaten.” The statue was completely restored in 1992.

One star for each state of the Union during Lincoln's presidency surround his pedestal.  photo by Alice Lum

Today Brown’s Abraham Lincoln stands stoically on its pedestal staring southward towards the much more famous George Washington. While no longer maligned, it is more often simply overlooked.

The 1928 Kossuth Monument -- Riverside Drive at 113th Street

photo by Alice Lum

Born into a noble Hungarian family in 1802 in Monok, Lajos Kossuth developed into a fiery nationalist.  Educated as both a journalist and lawyer, he used his several newspapers and journals to disseminate his then-radical ideas—independence from the Hapsburg Monarchy, industrial development and freedom for the peasant class.  By the time he was in his early 30s, he had established himself at the forefront of the country’s reform movement.

In 1847 Kossuth was elected to the national assembly, the Hungarian Diet.  Within a year he led the grassroots revolution that overthrew the old regime and established a new Hungarian government.   Kossuth’s coup came at a time when European monarchs were threatened with multiple nationalistic uprisings.   Anarchist groups spread what emperors and kings considered dangerous, treasonous propaganda; and the several revolutions of 1848 forced the Austrian Emperor Ferdinand I to abdicate in favor of his nephew Franz Joseph.

Franz Joseph, allied with the mighty Russian army, squashed the new Hungarian government in 1849, forcing Lajos Kossuth into exile.   The silver-tongued diplomat, revolutionist and reformer traveled throughout Europe lobbying support for Hungarian independence.  He then turned towards a sympathetic audience: the young, democratic nation of the United States of America that had fought its own battle for independence less than a century before.

On Friday December 5, 1851 Kossuth arrived in New York City on the steamship Humboldt, the first stop on a seven-month tour.    The following day he was taken on a trip around the bay and up and down both rivers “while Fort Lafayette and that on Governor’s Island furnished salutes, and the frigates North Carolina and Ohio fired thirty-one guns,” reported The Sun.  “On the Battery fully 50,000 people had gathered around the whole first division of the National Guard who…were awaiting orders to escort the Hungarian hero under a floral arch erected by a corporation jobber between Battery Gate and Bowling Green, and thence up Broadway to Bond street into the Bowery and down to the City Hall Park.”

Thousands of New Yorkers cheer Kossuth on December 6, 1851 -- The Ladies Home Journal, 1897 (copyright expired)

On December 7 the New-York Tribune filled an entire page with paid tributes and accounts of the welcoming parade the day before.   “Almost every store, and many private dwellings along Broadway, were more or less decorated,” it said.  “The Bowery Hotel, No. 395, had a large banner with the following inscription: ‘Freedom is the unchartered prerogative of Human Nature.’”

The American Museum on Broadway “was literally covered with paintings and flags.  One, a portrait of Kossuth, in the folds of Hungarian and American flags, with the words at the bottom: ‘Kossuth, the Washington of Hungary.’”

Kossuth spent days visiting groups and attending luncheons  where “in many speeches of acknowledgement was obliged to air his undoubted powers of oratory,” said The Sun.  Then on the evening of December 12 city officials hosted a grand dinner at the Irving House in the banquet hall.  At one point the throng of well-dressed guests stood and cheered to a grand toast.

City officials host a grand dinner in Kossuth's honor at the Irving House -- etching NYPL Collection

“Perhaps the most enthusiasm after the 300 champagne corks had popped was expended over the toast, “Hungary Betrayed, but Not Yet Sold,” said The Sun.

The newspaper described the celebrity lavished upon the Hungarian hero.  “Thus immediately previous to the Christmas of 1851 New York city underwent a period of Kossuth mania, and it affected the holiday presents.  Every New Year’s gift associated itself in some designation with Kossuth and Hungary.  Restaurants abounded with Hungarian goulash, a savory dish of boiled beef and vegetables, strongly infused with red peppers; and there were Kossuth cravats (formidable bands of satin or silk wound around the neck, with ends liberally folded over the shirt front), Kossuth pipes, Kossuth umbrellas, Kossuth belts and buckles, Kossuth purses, Kossuth jackets, and Kossuth braid and tassels for wearing apparel.”

Kossuth left New York for Philadelphia and Boston and, oddly enough, by the time he returned to New York “for his homeward journey there were few New Yorkers at the steamer to speed him—the Kossuth mania had become a thing of the past,” reported The Sun.

Kossuth died in Turin in March 1894 and his body was returned to Budapest for burial.  “Not less than 200,000 country people followed Kossuth’s coffin to the grave,” reported The Evening World on April 7, 1894, “as well as at least 300,000 residents of Budapest and the immediate vicinity, who were either in the procession or lining the roadways.”

The newspaper noted the glaring absence of uniformed participants.  “The most interesting and significant difference between the burial of Kossuth and any of the others was the entire absence of any military display.  Not a single soldier was in the streets, all being strictly confined to their barracks…It was an absolute popular outpouring of love in memory of a patriot, and, it must be remembered, of a patriot who had been in exile for nearly half a century, and whose ideas had almost all been fulfilled in the interval.”

Thirty-three years later, early in 1927, Hungarian-American Gezo Barko initiated a campaign through the daily Amerikai Magyar Nepszava to erect a statue to Kossuth in New York City.  Although fund raising was conducted primarily through Hungarian-American religious and civic groups, the general public of New York contributed as well.  Mayor James Walker organized and headed a statue committee and convinced the city council to designate a fitting location on Riverside Drive.

The original idea was for a memorial bust; but fund raising met with an unexpected response and a full-blown monument resulted.

Hungarian sculptor Janos Horvai was commissioned to design the sculptural grouping, based on the Kossuth statue in Cegled, Hungary.  The project progressed with astonishing speed and on November 5, 1927 ground was broken for the base of the statue.  The New York Times provided a description of the coming monument.

The statue “shows Kossuth holding the sword of Washington, which was presented to him when he was in America.  Other episodes of his visit will be portrayed in the plaques at the base of the monument.  One will depict the scene at Castle Garden, when he landed in New York and was met by enthusiastic crowds. Another will be a scene in the ceremonial procession on Broadway.”

At the foot of the pedestal a young Hungarian soldier offers his hand to an aged peasant, symbolically raising him from his suffering.

A young soldier, representing the new Hungary, assists an aged peasant -- photo by Alice Lum

News of the impending unveiling reached Budapest.  Zsigmond Perenyi, president of the Magyar Nemzeti Szovetseg (the Hungarian National Alliance) and Jozsef Zsenyi, director of the Amerikai Magyar Tarsasag (the American Hungarian Society, took advantage of it to create an overwhelming public relations event.   They established the Hungarian national Kossuth Pilgrimage Committee and planned a 500-person pilgrimage to the United States to attend the unveiling.

In addition, thousands of books were collected to be distributed among Hungarian-American children.

Not all Hungarian-Americans were pleased to hear of the impending “pilgrimage.”  Infuriated that the conservative government would intrude upon the ceremony for the liberal-minded Kossuth, they planned counter-demonstrations.

On January 10, 1928, the Magyar Tribune issued an editorial hoping to fend off trouble.  “We believe that the American Hungarians will have a beautiful celebration on March 15, at the unveiling of the statue of Kossuth in New York,” it said.  “Anyone disturbing the solemnity of this occasion is a boor and unworthy of being called a Hungarian.  The prestige of all American-Hungarians is lowered by any untoward demonstration during a great national celebration like this.  There are other methods of demonstrating disapproval than by disturbing the peace of this celebration.”

On March 10, 1928, five days before the unveiling, The New York Times reported on the city’s preparations to receive the Hungarian pilgrims and for the unveiling.  The Hungarian officials would be entertained at receptions and dinners and on the day of the unveiling a parade would proceed from 59^th Street and Fifth Avenue north to 110^th Street, then west to Riverside Drive.

“During the ceremonies soil from 400 parts of Hungary will be mingled in an urn with soil from many American States and placed beneath the pedestal of the monument,” the newspaper said.

In the meantime the Anti-Horthy League, the group protesting the arrival of the representatives of the Horthy government, called for Samuel Untermyer, a Horthy supporter, to step down from membership on the Kossuth Reception Committee.  Untermyer fired back in a letter published in The Times.

“No condonation of or sympathy with Hungarian or other Jew-baiters is involved in acceptance of membership on this committee and I accordingly respectfully decline to withdraw my name from the committee unless some very much better reason than you have presented in your letter can be offered for such an unfriendly act to the memory of so great a liberal as was Louis Kossuth,” he said in part.

Cast in Budapest, the statue had cost over $30,000. Despite a protest, the unveiling went off smoothly in the presence of around 25,000 viewers.  The unveiling speech was made by Baron Zsigmond Perenyi, the statue was presented to the city by Mrs. Geza Berko (accompanied by a 24-gun salute), Mayor Walker gave his acceptance speech and the Mayor Sipocz of Budapest followed with an address.

But within six months there were problems.

Members of the Anti-Horthy League charged that “not only had there been graft in the collection for the shaft, but the figures themselves were made of cheap bronze and were already beginning to decay,” reported The Times.

Sculptor Adolph Wolfe examined the statues and determined that they “were cast in too many pieces and were poorly pieced together; that the joints where the pieces came together showed evidences of deterioration after having been exposed to the weather for only six months.”

He added that the bronze was of poor quality and was already cracking in several places.

By 1930 it was obvious that the monument had a significant problem.   The Times had earlier reported that “While there was no immediate danger of the statue crumbling…there was danger of ultimate collapse due to the fact that the steel supports inside the bronze figures were not galvanized and are therefore subject to rust.”  In response the entire monument was taken apart, the statues were recast and reassembled.   At the time the bronze bas relief tablets were not replaced; but presented by the artist to the First Hungarian Reformed Church at No. 344 East 69th Street.

photo by Alice Lum

No longer a lightning rod for political dissension, for nearly a century the monument has been the focal point of the celebration of Hungarian Independence Day on March 15.