Walkabout: Kidnapping General Grant, Part 3

Read Part 1 and Part 2 of this story.

In August 29th, 1943, a letter from George H. Trumpler was published on the op-ed and letters to the editor page of the Brooklyn Eagle. It was nestled in the middle of the page, below a political cartoon showing General Mountbatten of England aiming a large cannon towards Japanese controlled Burma from his position in India.

This was indeed a world war, in full swing in both Europe and Asia, and the United States was a year and a half into it.

But the big concern at home, at least on this page of the paper, was Brooklyn receiving federal funds to repair highways.

There were also two editorials endorsing, in separate columns, women entering the engineering fields and Negroes being appointed by the city to local rationing boards in their communities. Progress, as well as war, had come to Brooklyn.

Even with all of that, the recent debate about the status of General Grant’s statue was still in the news. Two years after it had first been proposed, the decision whether or not to move Grant’s statue to Grant’s Tomb in Manhattan had still not yet been officially made. Parts One and Two of our story will catch you up on the details.

George Trumpler was one of Brooklyn’s most prominent citizens. He was Brooklyn born and bred, lived on Garfield Place in Park Slope with his wife, and was quietly well-off, with at least some of his money made as a real estate broker.

He was fiercely devoted to his city, and was a member of some of Brooklyn’s most elite clubs, societies and citizen’s committees. He was a member and acting president of the Committee of One Hundred, a good government, anti-political corruption organization. He was also a long-term president of the Kings County Grand Jurors Association.

One of his fiercest battles during his lifetime was to have the infamous Raymond Street Jail closed and replaced. Trumpler felt the institution was a disgrace to Brooklyn (he was certainly right about that), and it was a battle that he did not live to see won, although his efforts certainly helped bring about its demise more than a decade after his death in 1950.

In all of Mr. Trumpler’s battles to improve the city he loved, his weapon of choice was the pen. He was a frequent letter writer to the editors of Brooklyn’s daily papers, especially the Eagle. So when he chose to write about the statue of General Ulysses S. Grant, the paper dutifully published his long letter on their editorial page.

Trumpler was dead set against giving the statue of General Grant to Manhattan. The statue had stood in Bedford’s Grant Square since 1896.

He wrote to the Eagle stating that he personally told Robert Moses that it was not going to happen. He then said that although Brooklyn should keep the statue on her side of the river, he thought that Moses had a point when he said that the statue was not being used to its full potential.

In his long letter, Trumpler related the history of the statue, and a history of Grant’s Square, pointing out the historic buildings in the area, like the 23rd Regiment Armory and the Medical Society for the County of Kings.

He praised the Union League Club, which had commissioned the statue, and the crowds of people that had thronged the Square for its dedication, and the people who had made their livelihoods from the many businesses in the area. But, he said, those days were over.

“What some old timers refer to as Grant Square is now only a center for heavily converging street traffic,” he said. “The time has certainly come for Brooklyn to show its appreciation of the statue of General Grant by moving it to some other part of the borough where it can be given proper prominence in a more befitting environment.”

He thought in front of the Brooklyn Museum was good, but a better place would be in Grand Army Plaza, near the statue of General Slocum.

General Henry W. Slocum, another Civil War hero, and successful Brooklyn politician, had a commemorative statue on Bedford Avenue too.

The general, astride his horse, with arm outstretched and sword pointing towards battle, had called the median strip on Eastern Parkway and Bedford Avenue home. He was about ten blocks due south of General Grant.

General Slocum was also sculpted by an important American sculptor, Frederick MacMonnies, the talented creator of the “The Horse Tamers” atop the arch in Grand Army Plaza.

The base of the statue was designed by Stanford White. General Slocum’s statue was dedicated in 1905. President Theodore Roosevelt was on hand for the ceremony. But by the 1920s, the General was in the way.

Bedford Avenue was the center of Brooklyn’s growing automobile industry, with showrooms and service stations surrounding the statue. This was one of the busiest corners of Brooklyn, and with the General standing in the middle of the street, it was difficult for cars, trucks, and pedestrians to navigate the intersection.

The decision was made to move the statue. In the late 1920s, it was rolled down Eastern Parkway in the middle of the night, and installed in a woody area on the fountain side of the Plaza.

Trumpler further explained his reasoning for moving General Grant to be with his compatriot in battle. “If we are to get anywhere in this borough, we must wake up and take aggressive action to beautify our home town.

We should build up civic and neighborhood centers that will be worthwhile, and which will give cultural prestige to Brooklyn.” With that, Mr. Trumpler set off what would become the Battle of Grant’s Statue, 1943.

Everyone had an opinion. Over the next five months, the letters to the editor ran the gamut of opinions from “move it” to “keep it” to “get rid of all statues everywhere, they are a menace to traffic.” Most of the people who lived in Park Slope and vicinity wanted the statue to be moved there. Most of the people in Bedford wanted to keep it right where it was.

Some of the opinions, no matter where the writers lived, were based on civic pride; some were simply out and out racist. Bedford was now Bedford Stuyvesant, a neighborhood with an increasing African American population that was growing every year, although the neighborhood around the statue was still predominantly white at this time.

This being Brooklyn, opinions came from all corners, especially from people who had no idea the statue existed, and certainly no idea where it was. “I think it should stay where it is,” one woman who admitted she did know where that was, stated. “Grand Army Plaza has too many statues already,” she said.

Someone else thought it should stay put, because if the statue was moved, the city would have to re-name Grant’s Square. A local man thought that if the area around Grant Square was busy with traffic, and run down, then the city should clean it up, not move the statue. This opinion was shared by many.

The Swedish Hospital, across the street from the statue, in what was once the Chatelaine Hotel, also did not want the statue going anywhere. Constance Magnuson, the superintendent of the hospital was adamant about it.

“I fail to see how removing the statue could possibly help the neighborhood,” she said. Others at the hospital also added that the sight of the General from the hospital windows was a pleasant and calming site to many of the hospital patients.

Colonel William A. Dawkins, commander of the Brooklyn chapter of the United Spanish War Veterans, who we met in our last chapter, said that veterans were united in opposing the move to Manhattan, as well as moving the statue elsewhere in Brooklyn.

He was afraid that any move would lead to what happened to General Slocum – a midnight ride to goodness knows where, and the General could see sunrise in Riverside Park before anyone even knew what was happening.

The opposing forces were out in full, too, and they were much more vocal than those advocating for keeping the statue in Grant’s Square. The paper published letter after letter from those advocating that the statue be moved somewhere else, preferably Grand Army Plaza. The Brooklyn Museum, Bartel-Pritchard Square and the Brooklyn entrance to the Manhattan Bridge were the other locations suggested.

The Brooklyn Eagle was also for the move. They cited George Trumpler’s letter as the catalyst, but also framed the argument that if the statue was not moved to a “better” place, Manhattan would never give up in trying to get their grasping hands on it.

“As long as the statue stands in a spot so unsuited for such a work of art, it will be increasingly difficult to fight off the folks from across the river,” they opined. “The whole incident is a fine illustration of the need for community conscious Brooklynites to always be on their guard lest Manhattan should develop a craving for some other of their cherished possessions.”

Some of those who wanted the statue to move took the opportunity to denigrate the neighborhood. They sounded very familiar to anyone who lived in Crown Heights North up until a couple of years ago.

“Neighborhoods never come back, and no such miracle will ever happen at Bedford Avenue and Bergen Street. It was a fine old neighborhood once upon a time, but it is on the road to decay and oblivion.” That was the opinion of one letter writer, and was echoed by several others.

After months of debate, Brooklyn Borough President Cashmore decided to have a large town meeting and put an official end to the question of moving the statue. The meeting of the Brooklyn Advisory Planning Board was held on November 4, 1943, at Borough Hall. Over 300 people, in addition to the board, participated.

Robert Moses sent his second in command. The official question was whether or not to allow Manhattan to take the statue. That was settled quite quickly, with a resounding “No!”

The next question was whether or not to move it somewhere else. It was a spirited debate, and the qualities of the Bedford neighborhood finally came up, with many disparaging the idea of keeping the statue in a neighborhood that was now a “slum area.”

Rev. Stanley T. Olsen, pastor of the Bethlehem Lutheran Church, and representative of the Swedish Hospital stood up to speak. “It has always been the policy of American cities to diffuse beauty, not concentrate it,” he said.

When other speakers complained that the great proportion of the Bedford population was Negro, Rev. Olsen pointed out that Grant had fought in the civil war for the liberation of the Negro, and it was fitting that if the population of the neighborhood was now predominantly black, that Grant should be among them.

Others spoke up and said that the city could better spend the considerable money it would take to move the statue by cleaning the statue of traffic grime and soot, and spending some money in making the Plaza better.

In the end, Borough President Cashmore said any decision to move or keep General Grant in Grant Square would have to wait until the end of the war. Moving the statue to a new location would be very expensive, and require a great deal of planning and money.

The main thing, he told the committee and participants, was that Manhattan would have to do without General Grant. He wasn’t going across the river, no matter what. And that was that.

World War II ended in August of 1945, with great celebration and relief. Brooklyn had sent its sons to war, and lost thousands. But many more came home to start their lives again. New families were looking for homes, white collar businesses were changing the city’s workforce, and the whole world changed in ways that still affect us today.

The Cold War started up before the nation knew it, as did the Korean War and then Viet Nam. Civil rights, the state of cities, the flight to the suburbs, women’s rights; every issue imaginable assailed us.

Brooklyn’s infrastructure was forever changed by Robert Moses’ highways and then his urban renewal projects. Cadman Plaza was carved out of Downtown and the Heights. More and more affordable and low income housing projects were built, and Brooklyn’s industries began to leave the city.

In all of that, moving a statue of General Ulysses S. Grant became more and more irrelevant. In 1950, the Brooklyn Eagle mentioned the furor over the statue, and waxed nostalgic over the time when such things mattered.

Over in Grand Army Plaza, General Slocum’s statue disappeared behind heavy foliage, and can barely be seen. Today, General Grant is still a mighty presence in Grant Square, and here he will stay, now a landmarked piece of Crown Heights North.

GMAP

(Photograph: S.Spellen)