Grief: 1915

"A blank, my lord. She never told her love,
But let concealment, like a worm i' the bud,
Feed on her damask cheek: she pined in thought,
And with a green and yellow melancholy
She sat like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?"

That's what comes to mind when I see this statue.

My Father was Superintendent of Rock Creek Cemetery and my family lived in a house within the gates. I can't count the times I've looked at this statue and wondered about the meaning of it.

Good heavens what a stunning work and remarkable bit of photography! I've been gazing at her at every opportunity for a day now, and have more questions about what she says now than I did yesterday. Is she still there?

[Yes. - Dave]

A copy of this statue became the infamous "Black Aggie" here in Baltimore.

http://www.prairieghosts.com/druidridge.html

I have lurked in the background for many months, but must break my silence to comment that this is one of best from an incredible collection. It is haunting in many ways, but does speak volumes to the soul of this observer. Thank you Shorpy for all that you bring to the light of those who appreciate the world of photography and the representated life from the past.

Saint-Gaudens's name for the bronze figure is The Mystery of the Hereafter and The Peace of God that Passeth Understanding, but the public commonly called it Grief—an appellation that Henry Adams apparently disliked. In a letter addressed to Homer Saint-Gaudens, on January 24, 1908, Adams instructed him:

"Do not allow the world to tag my figure with a name! Every magazine writer wants to label it as some American patent medicine for popular consumption—Grief, Despair, Pear's Soap, or Macy's Men's Suits Made to Measure. Your father meant it to ask a question, not to give an answer; and the man who answers will be damned to eternity like the men who answered the Sphinx." -- Wikipedia

I remember studying this in college and the ambiguity of the figure sent critics of the time into a tizzy. The lesson ultimately learned was the critics filled in the blanks with their own personal baggage and interpreted the meaning incorrectly.

Grief.

In his famous autobiography, Henry Adams doesn't mention his wife at all, but he does talk about this statue without identifying its purpose.

In her first stay in Washington (when her husband was Assistant Secretary of the Navy), Eleanor Roosevelt would spend hours meditating on this spot. Joseph Lash wrote in "Eleanor and Franklin" that she envied the peace reflected in the tranquil face of the statue.

Oh, but this is beautiful -- and the ambiguity works, too -- don't know if it was Henry or Clover of the personification of grief itself.

it kind of creeps me out!

This monument made it into the history books, I believe I had to memorize a slide with it!