SYNDICATED COLUMN
OPINION: HOLY COW! HISTORY: America’s first monument meltdown
History buffs were taken aback in 2021 when the New York City Council voted to remove a statue of Thomas Jefferson from the council chamber. Why should a historic work of art become part of a debate over contemporary politics?
In fact, “statue politics” is an American tradition that goes all the way back to the Revolution — and it happened in New York, too.
In 1766, the Province of New York (the British colony that became today’s New York state) wanted to score some brownie points with the big boss. It passed a resolution honoring England’s King George III. In language that would make the most fawning, fanny-kissing sycophant blush, the resolution noted “the innumerable and singular Benefits received from our most gracious sovereign, since the Commencement of his auspicious Reign, during which they have been protected from the fury of a cruel, merciless, and savage Enemy.”
It ordered a gilt-covered lead equestrian statue of him to be erected in New York City.
So George was placed atop a pedestal in Manhattan’s Bowling Green neighborhood on March 21, 1770. Although the statue went up amid great fanfare, the timing was lousy, as some colonists were already beginning to demand a break from the mother country.
It came in 1775 with the “shot heard round the world,” the opening battle of the Revolutionary War. When the Declaration of Independence was signed the following year, George’s reputation had dramatically deteriorated, going from “our most gracious sovereign” in the 1766 resolution to someone “… whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant” in the 1776 Declaration.
In fact, the Declaration prompted the statue’s demise. Gen. George Washington ordered it read to his soldiers in New York City on July 9, five days after its signing. The Patriots went wild with joy. That night, 40 soldiers and sailors tied ropes around the statue and pulled. They broke. More rope was found, and the men pulled again. George and his horse tumbled to the ground, shattering into dozens of glittering pieces.
Toppling the statue served two important purposes. First, it demonstrated that the old order was being replaced by something new. And perhaps more important, it provided lead for much-needed Patriot musket balls.
George was turned into 42,088 bullets. New York’s postmaster wrote in a letter that the British troops “will probably have melted Majesty fired at them.”
Interestingly, not all of the statue’s remains reached the Litchfield, Connecticut, foundry to be transformed into ammunition. Some Tories (Americans who remained loyal to the British) stole an estimated 1,400 pounds of lead chunks and secretly sank them in nearby Davis Swamp.
Then there was George’s head. The Patriots lopped it off, fired a bullet into it, and stuck it atop a pole outside nearby Cox’s Tavern. That final outrage was too much for the Brits. They sent spies to pull it down and bury it. When they occupied New York days later, they exhumed the head and sent it to Lord Townshend back in England, “in order to convince them at home of the Infamous Disposition of the Ungrateful people.”
Nearly 250 years later, you can now see what the ill-fated statue looked like. A replica was created with painstaking accuracy a few years ago. It is a featured exhibit in the Museum of the American Revolution in Philadelphia, near Independence Hall.
Statues are important symbols. They are visual reminders of significant people who shaped our shared past. Toppling them can make a political statement. (Think Vladimir Lenin’s likeness coming down in the U.S.S.R.’s final days and Saddam Hussein’s statue falling after Baghdad’s liberation.) They can be wartime morale boosters, as in the case of George III in New York.
And they can also become lost legacies when they are snatched away from citizens who grow careless with their culture.
J. Mark Powell is a former television journalist. His nonfiction book “Witness to War: The Story of the Civil War Told by Those Living Through It” is available at . He wrote this for .