“The fountain offers more than just aesthetics,” says Stephanie Azaron, a 72-year-old lifelong New Yorker with a passion for history.
Her book, titled “The Great Fountains of New York,” which arrives on September 2, dives into the city’s stunning landmarks and uncovers some intriguing, often dramatic stories behind them.
Some fountains were created to provide fresh water for horses, while others aimed to encourage locals to drink less alcohol instead.
“They hoped these fountains would promote drinking water,” adds Lonehorde Azaron, who co-authored the book with her husband, photographer Robert F. Rodriguez, also 72. The couple has called the Upper West Side home for over four decades, passionately exploring both its history and its unique water features.
“Nothing quite compares to the joy and reflection inspired by watching water cascade from a fountain,” she shares.
Here, she reveals captivating tales behind five noteworthy fountains.
Robert Ray Hamilton Fountain, Riverside Park, 76th Avenue
Robert Ray Hamilton, direct descendant of Alexander Hamilton and a New York State Legislator, was the financial backer for this fountain. However, its construction faced significant delays due to a scandal that tarnished his reputation.
He faced continuous turmoil involving Evangeline Steele, who falsely claimed that he had gotten her pregnant to force the marriage.
Just before the wedding, she vanished to visit her mother upstate for a few months, returning with a child purchased through shady means.
Tired of his wife’s antics, Hamilton sought a divorce. In an act of fury, she stabbed their hired nurse and was subsequently arrested. Disgraced, Hamilton fled to Wyoming, where he met his demise in 1890, drowning in the Snake River. His ornate fountain, topped with a graceful eagle, was finally completed in 1906.
“It’s among my favorites in the city,” Azaron admits. “The scandalous tale behind it adds to its charm.”
Firefighter Memorial, Riverside Park, 100th Avenue
This striking rectangular monument, adorned with a bronze horse plaque, was erected in 1913 to commemorate firefighters who paid the ultimate price in the line of duty. Yet, Azaron noted that Audrey Manson, the model for the statue, had a far more dramatic narrative.
Dubbed the “Venus of America,” she was an early supermodel, representing at least 15 monuments throughout the city. Tragically, her life took a dark turn. Dr. Walter Wilkins, her landlord, murdered his wife, leading to an affair with Audrey. At age 40, she was committed to a psychiatric institution, where she lived until she reached the age of 104.
Bethesda Fountain, Central Park, 72nd Street:
Recognized for its majestic angel statue, this iconic fountain debuted in 1873 and has graced various films like “Hair,” “Gotham,” and “Godspell.”
Artist Emma Stebbins, the first female recipient of a significant public works commission in the city, sculpted the figure modeled after her partner, actress Charlotte Cushman. Interestingly, at that time, angels were typically portrayed as male, but “Stebbins insisted her angel be female,” Azaron notes.
Responses to its design varied; one critique called it “subtle light and ideal.” Stebbins passed away in 1882, likely due to health issues aggravated by years spent inhaling marble dust during her work.
Lowell Fountain, Bryant Park (near 41st and 6th Avenue):
Since 1912, this intricately designed black granite fountain has stood as Bryant Park’s centerpiece, marking the first major city monument honoring women. It was dedicated to social reformer Josephine Shorowell.
Upon her husband’s death in the Civil War, Shorowell, eight months pregnant at the time, donned black for the rest of her life and emerged as a significant activist.
“In the summer, the fountain is treated to prevent cracking and can create icicles,” Azaron remarks. “It appears as though towering angels are accompanied by fantastical creatures.”
Pulitzer Fountain, E. Grand Army Plaza at 59th St and Central Park
Newspaper magnate Joseph Pulitzer, who passed away in 1911, left funds for this fountain to be established in his name.
He tragically died in a car accident in 1915, returning home from the Met Opera with his wife. The fountain showcases the Roman goddess Pomona with a basket of fruit, a sight that infuriated Alice Vanderbilt, who lived across the street. “She disliked it so much that she moved to a different bedroom to avoid seeing it,” Azaron recounts.
