photo via New York City Department of Parks & Recreation

Construction on Central Park began in 1857.  Within a decade some parts were finished enough to allow for embellishments.  In 1864 Gordon Webster Burnham presented the park with a bronze sculpture, Eagles and Prey, by Christophe Fratin.   Three years later twelve eminent citizens including artist and inventor Samuel F B. Morse, jurist John Jay, Robert Hoe, and William T. Blodgett,  donated another, Tigress and Cubs.

The grouping was the work of 45-year-old French sculptor Auguste Nicolas Cain,  He, like Fratin, was associated with the animaliers--a group of painters and sculptors who specialized in animal-themed works.  And like Fratin's, Cain's grouping depicted nature in deadly survival mode; a mother tiger bringing a newly-killed peacock to her cubs.

The six-foot high grouping, cast in 1866, was placed on an outcropping of rock overlooking the lake the following year.  In his speech at the unveiling Controller of the Park, Andrew H. Green, pronounced "The artist, by the freedom, vigor, and commanding expression with which he has treated his subject has placed himself among the first of the school of sculptures to which it belongs--a school especially adapted to the landscape of the Park."

Harper's Weekly, April 25, 1868 (copyright expired)

Cain had apparently not titled the sculpture and for decades journalists would apply their own names to the work.  When Harper's Weekly reported on the new gift in April 1868, the article called it Tigress Bringing the First-Fruit to Her Young.  And while the writer admitted that it "adds materially to the beauty of that picturesque spot," he seems to hold back on overall praise.  "The citizens of New York will have ample opportunity of confirming Mr. Green's opinions of the beauty of this work."

The problem was not the artist's adept execution of the subject--it was the subject itself.  The issue which Harper's dexterously side-stepped was the violence depicted in the piece.  Victorian sensibilities were ill-equipped to view bloody carnage, even when it involved motherly devotion.

While Harper's Weekly had been diplomatic, other critics were blunt.  Clarence Cook, in his 1869 A Description of the New York Central Park. wrote "We cannot agree with those who think such figures as this of the Tigress, and that of the Eagles bringing their prey to their young, particularly suitable to the Park.  They are, both of them, fine and spirited works of their kind, but they are much better suited to a zoological garden than to a place like the Park, for the ideas they inspire do not belong to the tranquil, rural beauty of the Park scenery."

Cook's 1869 guidebook titled the sculpture simply The Tigress. A Description of the New York Central Park (copyright expired).

Cook was unrelenting.  "They are simply records of carnage and rapine, and however masterly the execution, or however profound the scientific observation they display, they are apart from the purpose of noble art, whose aim is to life the spirit of man to a higher region and feed him with grander thoughts."

Oddly enough, the sculpture sat atop a wooden base for years.  from the collection of the New York Public Library

Four years later Scribner's Monthly chimed in.  In a pages-long article about Central Park, it pointed out some of the regrettable statuary and suggested the works might be hidden away or moved.   "No great harm is done by accepting from a private individual such a gift as the statue of Commerce...because it may be tucked away anywhere; and so with the 'Tigress and her Cubs,' and the 'Eagles bringing food to their Young,' which will find a good place somewhere about the new Natural History Museum, if the live animals do not object to the indifferent drawing of the bronze ones."

Publications--and even the Parks Commissioners--continued to devise their own titles for the work.  The May 12, 1883 minutes of a Commissioners' meeting called it the "Statue of Tigress and Young."  In 1889 American Architect and Building News called it A Lion Bringing a Dead Peacock to its Cubs; and in 1894 the Evening World deemed it The Lioness and the Peacock, not even getting the species correct.

After having sat atop a temporary wooden base for 16 years, the Commissioners agreed on May 12, 1883 that Calvert Vaux should design a pedestal from stone unearthed in the park's on-going construction.  The minutes recorded "Resolved, That the Architect be directed to prepare a plan for a base for the statue of 'Tigress and Young,' now standing at the sound end of the Mall on the Central Park, and report whether a portion of the granite lying on the Central Park can be utilized for that purpose."

Vaux's granite base, seen here in 1891, was apparently scrapped in the 1934 move.  photo from the collection of the New-York Historical Society

One art critic, William Crary Brownell, was far less censorious in his appraisal of Tigress and Cubs.  Nevertheless his compliment in his 1892 French Art: Classic and Contemporary Painting and Sculpture was not only slightly insulting; but disparaged Central Park's artworks as a whole:

There have been but two modern sculptors who have shown an equally pronounced genius for representing animals--namely, Barye, of course, and Barye's clever but not great Cain.  The tigress in Central Park, perhaps the best bronze there (the competition is not exacting), and the best also of the several variations of the theme of which, at one time, the sculptor apparently could not tire, familiarizes the Americans with the talent of Cain." 

Maintenance of Central Park was never-ending.  The City Record listed the expenditures of 1915 to fix arbors, railings, comfort stations and such.  In reporting that $12 had been spent to repair Cain's grouping, the city gave it yet another name:  Lion and Cubs.

As Clarence Cook had hoped for 66 years earlier, Tigress and Cubs was moved to the Central Park Zoo in 1934.  After a renovation of the zoo in 1988, it was again relocated, between the Tropical Zone and the Intelligence Garden.  The removal of the stone base resulted in an extremely low vantage point and, subsequently, the loss of the former majesty of the grouping.

In an article about civic memorials in 1913, The Lookout magazine lamented "in a busy, careless city the average person soon forgets."  That short civic memory is responsible for statues and monuments throughout the city in honor of persons--like John Purroy Mitchel, Roscoe Conkling, and Samuel S. Cox--once renowned, but now essentially forgotten.  And like Waldo M. Hutchins.

Hutchins and his wife, the former Elizabeth Ellsworth, had four children--Julia, Augustus, Waldo and William.  Born in Brooklyn, Connecticut on September 30, 1822, he traced both sides of his family to the first settlement of Connecticut.

Hutchins's career was impressive and wide-flung.  In 1842, the year he graduated from Amherst College, he traveled to New York City and entered the law office of Slosson & Schell, "as a student."  He was admitted to the bar in 1845 and in 1852 was admitted as a partner in the law firm with John Slosson and Augustus Schell.

His meteoric legal career would have been enough to earn him wealth and fame.  At just 29 years old he was chairman of the Judiciary Committee of the State Assembly.  But seemingly indefatigable, he branched out into railroads, insurance, banking and politics.  The same year he was made a partner in Slosson, Schell & Hutchins, he was elected to the New York Assembly.

And decades later the New York State Bar Association Reports noted "Soon after the passage of the act of 1853, providing for the construction in the city of New York of the Central Park, he was appointed one of the Commissioners."  Hutchins successfully juggled his various responsibilities.  In 1865 he successfully represented the City of New York in its fight to established a professional fire department; and in 1867, following his term in the Assembly, he made time to serve as a delegate to the State constitutional convention.

In 1878 Alexander Smith won the Democratic nomination for Congress.  But on the night before the election, he died.  On October 5, 1879 The New York Times reported that Waldo Hutchins had been nominated as his replacement.  He was elected on November 4 and served until March 3, 1885.

Now back home in New York City he resumed his law practice.  On November 27, 1881 The Times reported that he had been elected to the post of president of the New-York Park Association.  The article mentioned its object was "to secure increased park area for the City of New-York."  A report read that the meeting noted "the park acreage of New-York as compared with that of other great cities...had been completely outstripped in providing such places of creation for her citizens."

His tireless fight to acquire more parkland for the city was in part responsible for his being re-elected as a Park Commissioner in June 1887.  Two years later he was chosen its president.  The New York State Bar Association Report of 1889 made note "it is proof of the interest he took in those breathing spaces and pleasure grounds of the people, that, although his connection with the board was interrupted by duties in Congress and business interests, he returned to it in later years."

While Hutchins's creating of green space and roads was overwhelmingly popular, his support of using Central Park as the site of a world exhibition in 1889 fell flat.  The New York Times, on July 8, railed against the idea, equating it to "the condemnation of Central Park" and saying that while New Yorkers would welcome a world's fair they were "irrevocably opposed to the destruction of the advantages they already possess in their only completed park."  The fair did not happen.

Hutchins received another disappointment that year after he offered a position to Frederick Law Olmstead as a consulting landscape architect on retainer.  Olmstead did not respond warmly.  Writing from his home in Brookline, Massachusetts on June 8, 1889, he said in part:

I do not wish to be called in occasionally to prepare or aid in preparing details of design for works with regard to which I have no continuous or comprehensive responsibility...Judging from the experiences to which I have referred it seems to me probably that what I have thus said will make it unnecessary that you should be put to the expense of my visiting New York at this time.

Although Hutchins had incurred the ire of The New York Times over the world's exhibition concept, he won its admiration when he fought against the relocation of the precursor of the Central Park Zoo in 1890.  An editorial on June 27 said partly "Mr. Waldo Hutchins really deserves the thanks of his fellow-citizens for preventing two of his associates in the Park Commission from voting the removal of the menagerie to the North Meadow."  The editors accused Commissioners Gallup and Borden of being detached.  "There is something grotesque in the notion that the general promiscuous public takes a more intelligent interest in the park, has a greater pride in it, and is much more concerned to prevent its spoliation that the men who are its official guardians."

In January 1891 Hutchins became ill.  On February 5 The Evening World announced "Park Commissioner Waldo Hutchins is lying seriously ill at the Park Avenue Hotel...It began with a severe cold, complicated with a bilious attack, and later developed into a slight attack of pneumonia."  The article added "Should he recover, he will not be able to leave his room for ten days or more."

He did not recover.  On February 9, 1891 The New York Times reported "Mr Hutchins made a hard fight and passed the night safely...A little after 5:30 o'clock yesterday morning a change for the worse was noticed, and half an hour afterward he sank into a stupor.  At 7:20 o'clock he died."

The following day The Brooklyn Daily Eagle wrote "Seldom do so many venerable New Yorkers come together to pay homage to the memory of the dead as there were assembled this morning in the Madison square Presbyterian church in New York, during the services over the remains of the late Park Commissioner Waldo Hutchins. The body of the church was filled."

The name of Waldo M. Hutchins was well on the road to obscurity when his son, Augustus S. Hutchins, stepped in.  Like his father's his was a broad-based career.  An attorney, he was also a vice president in the Metropolitan Savings Bank; and director in the North River Insurance Co., the United States Fire Insurance Co., and the Williamsburgh City Fire Insurance Co.



In 1932 he hired architect Eric Gugler to design a granite bench for Central Park in memory of his father.  Costing $15,000 (about $270,000 today), it would be more than a mere seating area.

The semicircular (or exedral) shape has a secondary purpose--it is a clock of sorts.  Twice a year on the vernal and autumnal equinoxes its shadow precisely coincides with three arcs incised into the platform--at 10:00 a.m., at noon, and at 2:00 p.m.  Additionally, a sundial, incorporating an Art Deco bronze figure, perches on the back of the bench.  The sculpture, attributed to Paul Manship (who created the monumental Prometheus statue at Rockefeller Center), depicts a female dancer trailing flowing scarves.


Echoing Waldo Hutchins's life-long work for the citizens of the city, a Latin inscription along the back of the bench translates "One must live for another if he wishes to live for himself."  The inscription within the sundial translates "Let it not be destroyed by the passage of time."

The fascinating astronomical bench sits greatly unnoticed on a slope near the Conservatory Water, or model boat pond.  And despite his son's valiant efforts, Waldo M. Hutchins's name is largely forgotten.

photographs by the author

In 1945 Sixth Avenue, at the prompting of Mayor Fiorello H. LaGuardia, was renamed the "Avenue of the Americas" to honor Pan-American ideals.  In response a new plaza was designed at the head of the avenue where it meets Central Park.  The statue of Simon Bolivar was moved to the eastern side of the entrance and a month later the statue of José de San Martin was erected on the western side.

Eleven years later the renowned sculptor Anna Hyatt Huntington announced her intention to create a statue of Cuban patriot, author and poet José Marti as a gift to the Cuban Government.  The Parks Department, in turn, announced on July 29, 1956 that it had accepted the Cuban Government's offer to erect that statue in Central Park.  It would be placed at the curve of the roadway just behind the Bolivar and San Martin statues.

The New York Times added that Huntington "has estimated her work will take more than two years to complete."  No one could have anticipated the chain of events that would take place within those two years and the problems they would cause for Huntington's monument.

That Anna Hyatt Huntington chose the Cuban hero for her subject, or that she paid for the costly work out of her own pocket was not surprising.  Her recently-deceased husband, multi-millionaire Archer M. Huntington, had organized the Hispanic Society in 1904.  He began construction of the Spanish Museum building that same year; what would become part of his sprawling Audubon Terrace complex at Broadway and 155th Street.  Within its courtyard are Anna Hyatt Huntingon's bronze equestrian statue El Cid, a limestone bas-relief of Don Quixote and another of Boabdil, the last Moorish king of Spain.

Marti, the subject of her latest project, was a leader in the quest for Cuba's freedom from Spain.  After being imprisoned in 1868, he fled to New York in 1880 to continue advocating for Cuban independence in exile.  He organized the Cuban Revolutionary Party in New York in 1892.

In 1895 his support was strong enough that he returned to Cuba to fight.  He was fatally wounded during the battle of Dos Rios later that same year.  Huntington's vision of the statue would capture the moment that he was struck atop his horse.

While she steadily worked in her Redding, Connecticut studio, another revolution was playing out in Cuba.  Fidel Castro and his army of rebels were engaged in guerrilla warfare against the regime of President General Fulgencio Batista.   It culminated in the collapse of the Batista government on January 1, 1959, just as the Huntington statue was being prepared for casting.

Three weeks after Batista's fall Stuart Constable of the Department of Parks assured New Yorkers that the revolution would not affect the plans to erect the monument.  He said that "any honor paid to Marti would probably be as acceptable to the Castro Government as it was to that of General Batisa."  A spokesman at the Cuban Consulate unofficially agreed, saying "After all, Marti is a national hero."

The Bastisa Government had presented Parks Commissioner Robert Moses a check for $100,000 on December 3, 1957 to pay for a base for the Marti monument.  That massive, 16-foot-high black granite pedestal designed by Clarke & Rapuano was placed on the site to await the statue that would not come for years.

The enormous statue--it is 18-feet tall and weighs approximately five tons--was shipped to New York City and promptly "hidden" in a Bronx warehouse.  The State Department had stepped in to halt the erecting of the statue.  Authorities feared possible "disturbances" between pro-Batista and pro-Castro factions.

And, in fact, those fears were well-founded.  On February 7, 1960 the Santa Cruz Sentinel reported that New York "witnessed a riot between pro and anti-Castro factions recently during a wreath-laying ceremony in Central Park at the statue of Cuban liberator Jose Marti."

That wreath-laying had, originally, been intended as the unveiling ceremony.  Marti's birthday was January 28 and plans were made to finally present the statue on that day.   But half an hour before the statue was set to be hauled onto the delivery truck, a message came from the office of Stuart Constable to stop shipment.  Constable, who a year earlier had assured that the revolution would not affect that monument's dedication, now asserted the statue was "unfinished."

Anna Hyatt Huntington assured reporters that she had finished it two years earlier.  That State Department claimed, according to The Times, that "all it knows is that the Park Commissioner, Robert Moses, asked last November if Marti's birthday would be a suitable time for erecting the statue.  The department replied that Marti's birthday, Jan. 28, would be fine."

Amid conflicting stories and excuses the bronze artwork remained in the Bronx, partly covered by tarpaulins.  Cuban-Americans, nevertheless, forged on with their plans.  So on the day once planned for the unveiling, supporters of both Castro and Batista arrived to pay honor to their hero.  War broke out between the two factions.

The anti-Castro group, which called itself La Rosa Blanca (the white rose was a symbol taken from Marti's Versos Sencillos) had obtained a permit for a ceremony and the placing of a bouquet of white roses at the pedestal.  The Movimiento 26 de julio (The 26th of July Movement, a pro-Castro group) had been refused a permit.  But that did not stop their plans.

According to The New York Times account of the incident, the Castro supporters called La Rosa Blanca members "assassins, murderers" and their opponents shot back with "communists, godless blackguards."  Before the NYPD riot squad could quell the conflict 3 people were hurt and 12 arrested.

In the spring of 1960 the black granite pedestal sat forlornly empty.  The New York Times, April 13, 1960

Four months after the ugly affair, the Havana-born New York University professor Dr. José Garcia-Mazas complained "I cannot understand why is was not unveiled last January 28.  Is it because the Park Department is afraid of a riot, or is it playing politics--that's the question."

Years passed and New Yorkers became accustomed to the sarcophagus-looking stone block; most essentially forgetting why it was there at all.  On February 1964 the San Bernardino Sun commented "In New York, covered with tarpaper, is a statue which has been causing the Department of State a lot of headaches. "  The newspaper opined that the "reason is that if the dedication ceremony was held, the Castrolites would insist on being present; so would the exiled followers of Batista.  There might be trouble."  But a more plausible reason at this point was that the United States did not want to appear to honor a Communist regime.

Later that year, on October 10, The New York Times said that the "conspicuously...horseless marble pedestal" which had now stood for five years was "puzzling tourists and New Yorkers--and irking many Cuban exiles."  The article said that Huntington's $200,000 work was "a captive of the Parks Commissioner, acting under advice from the State Department."

"And this has been the fate of the José Marti statue ever since, despite several appeals by anti-Castro Cuban groups to Mayor Wagner and the State Department, all explaining that José Marti was a national hero, the George Washington of Cuba, and that dedication of the statue would not be recognizing the Castro regime."

A few days before that article, a group of Cuban exiles had decided to take matters in their own hands.  They acquired the giant plaster model of the statue from Anna Hyatt Huntington and hauled it from her Connecticut studio to Manhattan.  At around midnight, 15 refugees readied themselves to erect it upon the granite base.  When they made too much noise, waking neighbors, six police cars responded, assuming the men were breaking into the large truck containing the statue.

The group was headed by none other than the NYU professor who had made his dissatisfaction with the Park Departments' inactivity known months earlier.  Dr. José Garcia-Mazas produced the paperwork proving he had rented the truck and the police left.

That was the least of their problems however.  Although the plaster model weighed much less than the actual bronze statue, it was too massive to lift.  According to The Times, "So they decided to reassemble the pieces on the ground, confident that the 600-pound statue would not be easily carried away by the police.  Four hours later the statue was easily carried away by the police."

The U.S. and city authorities finally relented.  On January 27, 1965 The New York Times reported "After 13 years, the bronze statue of José Marti...will finally rise next month on its long empty pedestal at the southern end of Central Park."  The date set was February 21.  And Dr. José Garcia-Mazas was back in the news to explain that it was the Sunday closest to February 24, "the day the Cuban patriot began his campaign for independence in Cuba."

But now there was a new problem.  The newspaper said "There seems to be a bit of confusion about where the statue is.  The Mayor's office is certain the Department of Parks has it in storage somewhere.  But it was unable to run it down last night."  A representative of the Mayor's office promised "We are sure we will learn exactly where the statue is tomorrow morning."

And Park Commissioner Newbold Morris claimed he knew nothing about the plan.  Insisting that he was a "consistent admirer of Mrs. Huntington's works," he said that "no one had told him officially that the State Department had reversed itself.  "Until I am notified in writing by the Mayor's office there is nothing that can be done about the statue," he told a reporter.

Not surprisingly, February 21 came and went with no ceremony.  A new date was set for May 20, Cuban independence day.  In reporting on the revised date The New York Times mentioned "The sculptor, Anna Hyatt Huntington, now 88 years old, has been invited to witness the mounting of the statue on the pedestal and to come again for the dedication ceremony."

The statue was "quietly unveiled" on May 18, not the 20th.  Anna Hyatt Huntington was there, as hoped, and she was presented the city's gold medallion of honor.  The Times mentioned that "As the dedication ended a broad-shouldered Cuban--tie askew and in need of a shave--quietly placed a single white rose at the base of the pedestal and swiftly left.  He wouldn't give his name."

During the long odyssey the City of New York had grappled with another problem.  The Batista Government's gift of $100,000 to pay for the pedestal was slightly more than the actual cost.  A holding account had been established for the $10,861 while authorities wrangled about what to do with it.  Returning it to the now-Communist Cuban government no doubt seemed a bad idea.  And so finally in November 1972 the money was transferred to a reserve fund, making the City a bit richer.

Cuban-American relations began to improve in December 2014 when President Barack Obama and Cuban President Raul Castro announced a detente--what Cubans called the deshielo cubano, or Cuban thaw.  In response the Bronx Museum of the Arts gathered donations to make a copy of the Marti statue to present to the City of Havana.

But, as had been the case more than half a century earlier, things changed while the statue was being cast.  By the time it was ready for shipment in October 2017, the Trump administration had reversed many of the Obama-era agreements.  Nevertheless New York City went on with the gift.

On October 20, 2017 Reuters reported "Cuba unveiled a replica of a New York statue of independence hero Jose Marti on Friday, putting a gift from the hometown of U.S. President Donald Trump on public display at a time of heightened U.S.-Cuba tensions."  The statue was diplomatically situated, facing the Florida Straits with the United States coast just 90 miles away.




Anna Hyatt Huntington's bronze statue is among the most impressive of Manhattan public artworks.  The power and motion of the horse and its rider caught at the moment Marti was fatally shot, are masterful.

photographs by the author