A Beaten Path to the Door

For Henry Probasco to visit the foundry of Ferdinand von Miller (1813-1887) in Munich in 1866 was not unusual. This foundry had by that time an international reputation as the only foundry capable of large-scale pourings. It was especially important to sculptors in the United States due to a lack of casting know-how and casting facilities in the U.S. in the early and mid-nineteenth century. Miller's foundry had a well worn path to it as well from visitors taking the European tour.

Henry Probasco was not von Miller's first American customer. Years before the Tyler Davidson fountain of Cincinnati, the American sculptor Thomas Crawford (1813-1872) had his sculptures for the grand monument to George Washington in Richmond, Virginia cast by von Miller. This monument featured an equestrian portrait of Washington surrounded by four bronze statesmen and an additional four seated allegorical figures.

In 1865, the monumental figure of an armed American sentinel by the American sculptor Randolph Rogers (1825-1892) was cast by Ferdinand von Miller's foundry. The Sentinel is located in the extraordinarily beautiful Spring Grove Cemetery, Cincinnati Ohio. Thus the City of Cincinnati can boast of having two sculptures cast by the famous Ferdinand von Miller.

Schnapps & Beer but no Water

King Ludwig of Bavaria was excitable. When upset, he would scrunch closed his eyes and pounce on the floor. About the arts he was a fanatic and certainly not timid with his opinions, especially on the fountain which would eventually end up in America.

The Royal Bronze Foundry in Munich was founded in 1824 by King Max I and Prince Ludwig, and Johann Baptist Stiglmaier was appointed its director. At first it was used for simple castings but later, under King Ludwig I and the foundry's second director Ferdinand von Miller who took over in 1844, the foundry was used to realize the artistic ambitions of the new king. Gradually the foundry took in outside commissions. In 1873, Ferdinand von Miller took over the once royal property as a private business. When Ferdinand von Miller died in 1887, the foundry passed to his sons Fritz, Ferdinand, and Ludwig. It was the younger Ferdinand who took over the management of the foundry while the oldest, Fritz, taught metal arts at the Munich Art School.

Long before Henry Probasco in 1866 called upon Ferdinand von Miller in Munich in search of a monument to his deceased business partner Tyler Davidson, a "Genius of the Waters" fountain existed. Such a genius - a personification of a natural element - is very much a normal notion for a Bavarian of the time. Impressed with the enormousness of nature around them, Bavarians felt the spirits behind nature. But the fountain existed for real, in a drawing by the artist August von Kreling and, even earlier, in the mind of the foundryman Ferdinand von Miller.

Ferdinand von Miller had for many years the ambition of creating a great fountain such as already existed in many major cities in Europe. He and the artist August von Kreling, a painter and a sculptor emerging in the local art community, had spoken on this subject in the 1840's and von Kreling had developed an idea for a fountain incorporating some of the desires of von Miller such as a figure at the top dispensing water from her hands. When a young man, Ferdinand von Miller obtained a medallion of the Virgin Mary from a shop near a church in France. This medallion depicted Mary with outstretched arms and with shafts of light emanating from the palms of her hands. He thought the light, representing a blessing, could also be represented in water. It was Kreling's personal desire to avoid the then prevalent depictions of mythological figures in art, especially Neptune and the Nereids in any fountain he would design. He produced a sketch of what such a fountain would look like. In his design, the figures would glorify humans, not mythological characters and the artistic achievement would be in capturing the incredible variety of human expressions, body movements, and the the beauty of humanity. Though both desired a fountain, no opportunity arose and von Kreling's sketch was put away.

In 1854 plans for the first German Industrial Exposition included a fountain to be built in a grand glass house. Ferdinand von Miller began work on this fountain using the conception he and von Kreling had developed many years ago, a design which was substantially the basis for the future Tyler Davidson Fountain. Work only reached the point where various tasks had been assigned when von Miller approached the King with the plan. Ludwig reacted negatively to the fountain's design calling it an "abomination in the arts" and crying "how could anyone make such a thing?" "My father," recalled Ferdinand, the son of Ferdinand von Miller, "could not decide if he should continue." A little while later, he approached the king in a letter asking if perhaps his opinion may have softened. The king replied that while he was capable of keeping quiet on some distasteful matter so as not to do harm to someone, he could not keep quiet about something as bad as this fountain. And so the fountain idea was put aside and eventually forgotten.

One day, along comes Henry Probasco in search of a monument for his friend, brother-in-law, and business partner Tyler Davidson. Mr. Probasco already desired that the monument should be a fountain - a public drinking fountain - for the people of the city where he and Mr. Tyler Davidson lived and worked. Why a drinking fountain? Often Henry Probasco would encounter drunken men in Cincinnati. One day he stopped and asked one of these men why he did not drink water. The man replied angrily "well, what else am I to quench my thirst, here we find no water, only schnapps and beer!"

Probasco too, like the artist August von Kreling, found no interest in the fountain designs prevalent in Europe with their Neptunes and Nereids. And, so, coming to the great foundry in Munich and meeting the famous Ferdinand von Miller, he still wanted for a design. It was not long in the discussion between the two men that von Miller understood the tastes of Mr. Probasco and he thought back on the radical fountain design, rejected by the king, and brought forth its drawing. This design meet with ready approval and so the process for its commission was begun.

Old cannon from the Danish government were purchased and melted for the bronze of this fountain. The workshop of Ferdinand von Miller was a family affair and his sons took part in the fountain's creation. To the original design of von Kreling. Mr. Probasco requested the four outer sculptures of boys riding animals which would dispense public drinking water. These were modeled by Ferdinand, the youngest son of Ferdinand von Miller. The figures seated in each corner niche of the pedestal were modeled by Frederick (Fritz) von Miller. The remainder is the work of von Kreling.

A bronze model of the fountain was presented to Mr. Probasco by Ferdinand von Miller in the summer of 1867 shortly after the city of Cincinnati accepted the gift of the fountain, and before the settling of a contract between von Miller and Probasco. The model was placed outside of Mr. Probasco's home for many years, and now resides in the Cincinnati Museum of Art.

American Rope / Buy American

When the fountain was completed, it was set up at the foundry and then taken down and packed into crates. The fountain's height has been identified as 43 feet in some English publications but this is an error from adopting the German foot (Fuss) without conversion. Converted, the height is 35 feet. The crates were loaded onto the steamship "Westphalia." Ferdinand von Miller sent his younger son Ferdinand and a rigger with the load to assemble the fountain in Cincinnati. All the crates but two were loaded into the hold of the ship. The two largest, which would not fit through the opening to the hold, had to be chained on deck. They arrived in New York on September 6, 1871 but the ship remained quarantined for two days due to the death of five passengers on the voyage from Cholera. On disembarking, von Miller was met by an enthusiastic Henry Probasco and his wife.

In his diaries, the younger von Miller tells of the doting Probasco ("I couldn't shake him") and the sudden shock of having to "perform" at all times. His hotel, he said, was uncomfortable from the crowds and he found it to be very expensive. The front of the hotel was adorned with a picture of the fountain and there were always many newspaper reporters awaiting his presence. Shortly, the rigger went on to Cincinnati with the bronzes while von Miller visited Washington DC and Richmond, Virginia.

On his arrive in Cincinnati, the massive granite base stones from Bavaria were already in place. There had been trouble with the workers and some of the people of Cincinnati - a resentment against foreign imports. Many citizens wondered why granite had to be shipped all the way from Germany when America could supply such of equal quality. There was also resentment against having the installation of the stones directed by a Bavarian sent by the quarry in Bavaria rather than a "just as capable" American.

There was more trouble. Ferdinand von Miller arrived to find that the local workers had provided two hoists "with rope only a little thicker than a finger." Following his expressions of concern about the thin ropes, the locals replied that they did not need someone to come all the way from Germany to tell them what rope they needed to do their work and they insisted it was sufficient for the lifting. Von Miller responded tongue-in-cheek "I guess I don't know the capability of American rope!" Then von Miller suggested an experiment telling them to hang the heaviest crate from that rope overnight to see what would happen. On the next morning, von Miller found much sturdier rope on sight and not a word was spoken of the matter the day before. Thenceforth, the erection went smoothly, except for the water.

When the fountain was erected, Ferdinand von Miller wanted to test the water pressure which had the be sufficient to rise to the 40 foot elevation and disperse with some force from the hands of the Genius. But when the valve on the main pipe was opened, no water came from her hands. Von Miller was told of another potential source of pressure. There was a reservoir high above Cincinnati and its pipe ran some way down Vine Street but not all the way to the fountain. It was quickly decided that this was the only solution available to get high enough pressure for the upper figure. City council agreed and ordered an extension to the fountain no matter what the cost. That order came at 4:00 pm. By 7:00 pm, a force of workers filling the length of Vine Street had been organized and had begun to dig. The tram service was interrupted and the car used for the purpose of transporting pipe. The force of men went at the task day and night, using lanterns, as, said von Miller, "only possible in a country like America."

The new pipe from the city reservoir was connected and Ferdinand von Miller climbed the fountain to turn on the valve for the upper figure. A copper junction burst from the new pressure. New plumbing was constructed to divert half the pressure and the fountain tested again. This time, the flow was perfect and the fountain was ready for its public unveiling.

Americans do not Burn Flags

During construction, the fountain was obscured from the public's eye by a tall wooden fence. It now came time to cover the fountain with a cloth in order to clear the site for the dedication. There was a desire to create a cover which would fall dramatically at the pull of a rope during the dedication ceremonies and plans were drawn which included a large iron ring supporting the cloth as well as two large American flags. When the young Ferdinand von Miller was shown these plans, he stated that it would not work. "The cloth is too heavy", he said, "and the added burden of the flags makes a pull release impossible." Von Miler suggested simply setting the covering and flags ablaze to dramatically consume the covering and reveal the fountain. The Americans were shocked; "we can not burn the American flags!" they cried. And so the flags were eliminated from the covering and the great task of sewing the cloth commenced. Sixty sewing machines and operators went to work at 5:30 pm and by 5:00 am on the day of the dedication the covering was completed. But the hardest part was raising and installing this enormous, cumbersome and very heavy canvas. There was no longer a scaffolding in place and the workers had to make do with ladders. That morning too, elevated seating was hastily constructed (several of which collapsed injuring a number of notables) and at 11:00 am, the cloth did drop as planned and the fountain was revealed to a crowd estimated to number 20,000 people. "Hardly had the covering been away," writes Ferdinand von Miller," than the water began to flow and the enormous crowd went wild. Never in my life had I seen such enthusiasm. The people were especially charmed by the children done by my brother Fritz, especially the ice skater."

Ferdinand Von Miller Escapes

Young Ferdinand had had enough praise and attention from the people of Cincinnati! In fact, it eventually drove him out of Cincinnati and onto a tour of the rest of America - the extra travel made possible by a cash gift from the understanding Henry Probasco.

When he entered any "beer garden" he would be recognized and forced to accept glass upon glass, drink to endless cheers, and pressed into trying conversations with his limited English. On the street, a teacher and school children delayed him to hear their songs. His picture was posted on houses. There were too many parties to attend, to many people to meet, and too many serenades. Fathers even tried to press his marriage to their daughters! There was no peace for this son of that great foundryman who had cast the Tyler Davidson Fountain, the son sent by the father to see it erected in the great Ohio city of Cincinnati.

His every word would end up in the next morning's newspaper. Once, when returning to his hotel room, he discovered that his watch and wallet were missing. The watch contained on its chain a treasured memento from his service in the war with France. After notifying the hotel proprietor about the loss and possible theft, he requested that nothing be said to anyone about it in order to avoid any embarrassment for his hosts. Early the next morning his breakfast companion inquired about the theft of the watch. Ferdinand von Miller was astonished and asked " how did you learn of that?" "Well," said the gentleman, it is here, in this mornings newspaper!" The memento was eventually returned but not the watch nor the wallet.

The next day Mr. Miller was invited to the home of a major local industrialist. While there, this gentleman handed von Miller a gift in the presence of many newspaper reporters. It was an elegant watch offered as a replacement for the one stolen. Choosing his words with cautionary care before the reporters, von Miller tried to avoid accepting the expensive gift out of modesty but one of his companions whispered that it would be a great insult to decline. On the following day, another man offered von Miller a second watch saying that it had no association with any particular person or business, only the people of Cincinnati, and this watch would undo the disaster of accepting the one the day before with business strings attached.

"Why am I so celebrated?" asked Ferdinand von Miller the younger to a trusted friend in Cincinnati. It was explained that the German people in Cincinnati were pleased to praise one of their fellows since the immigrants themselves received so little respect and aid on their arrivals. There had been a growing pride among the German Americans as Germany's prominence in Europe increased and Germany unified. The city of Cincinnati had from the earliest a German component and its population was 30% German by 1840.

But Ferdinand von Miller, though very grateful and having had a splendid time, was afraid that his extraordinary reception and honors received in America would be reported in the German press. The modest man felt that such excess was not becoming and even there was a risk that his citizens in Munich would suspect he was pressing himself among the Americans. So, he decided to flee, hoping to get off quietly and without notice. When he arrived at the train station there,
to his astonishment, was a the entire local German regiment in full uniform, with flags, and a band to give him a proper send-off.