I ran across a picture of me the other day that I’d forgotten about. In it, I was videotaping a worn statue in the country. The figure and I are about the same size, but she stands in a seashell and I stand on the leaves. She’s nearly nude and I am fully clothed. She’s lost her lower arm and hand, and both my hands cradle a camera. She is nearly 150 years old and I am- considerably younger. We are in Ipswich. She’s been missing from her original home in Boston Public Garden for over 60 years. I’ve spent nearly two years trying to track her down.
She is “Venus Rising from the Sea”, “Venus at her Bath”, or “The Maid of the Mist”. Or, as most people of the time knew her- “Mrs. Bates on the Half Shell” after the donor’s wife. (No one ever recorded Mrs. Bates’ reaction to the honor.) She arrived in 1860 (or 1861- the dates are murky) as the first fountain figure in the Public Garden. Less than ten years later, George Washington and his mythic steed rose nearby to watch over her.
Unlike other statues, she had no famous sculptor coaxing her out of marble. As far as records show, it seems that she was an Italian mass produced piece that caught Mrs. Bates’ eye on a European tour. She decided she had to share it with the city. She knew people. Her husband had a reputation. So Venus was placed near the Commonwealth Ave. entrance of the Garden where they could watch over her. She was an instant hit with the citizens of the city.
WD Howells, an eminent local writer, immortalized her in his novel The Undiscovered Country when he wrote- “the marble Venus of the fountain was surprised without her shower on”. And an 1898 guide book said. “Venus Rising from the Sea is a lovely work, from above which, when the waters play, a fine spray falls about the figure, which is sometimes called “the Maid of the Mist”. Then there was 1901’s novel The Sentimentalists that described her “In the center of a fountain on the other side stood a small, all but nude woman, with the extreme expression of bashfulness that a mere fragment of clothing permits one to assume.”
By 1930 the water had worn away her right arm and she was generally run-down. So the Parks Department removed her for parts unknown and even the Boston Arts Commission had to hunt for her. When they found out why she was gone, they let the matter drop.
Within the next few years, the fountain became home to the little nude boy called “Small Child” that’s still there.
Enter moi.
Once I heard about Venus, I had to find her. I scoured the records, called anyone I could think of who would know where she was or what happened to her. I got used to, “I don’t really know anything about a missing statue” responses. Then, on a late summer afternoon, I got my first break from a long time resident of Beacon Hill.
“I heard that somebody saw it in a barn in Ipswich once, but I don’t know more.”
I called him again a few days later and he had found something in his notes. He gave me a woman’s name and address but couldn’t guarantee anything. I called her. She knew Venus. She said she’d contact her sister who had the statue in question! And so the connection was made.
It seems that their father saw poor Venus standing among the other wreckage in a city storage yard. He took pity on her and brought her home. He called her Mrs. Bates, which his daughters thought was his private name for her. They had taken care of her ever since. And invited me to meet her. Hence the drive north. Hence the breathless meeting with my grail. Hence the picture that I’d forgotten about.
I lost touch with them all a few years ago when my friend and her husband died. I found out later that her mother’s maiden name was Bates. Relative? I suddenly need to hunt down the family again, and hope she’s well cared for. I have a place for her in my garden.
Love this on every level... The donation, the decay the vanishing the discovery , and the final lovely lovely picture of Mrs Bates herself.
Love this picture ❣️❣️❣️