Shirtless George Washington too hot to handle in 19th century
WASHINGTON, D.C. – When Americans think of George Washington, they probably picture him wearing colonial garb – knee breeches, cravat and frock coat – with a tri-cornered hat topping his powdered wig.
That’s not true of the United States’ first “Washington Monument.” And we’re not talking obelisk.
More like “risque.”
When a marble sculpture commissioned by Congress was unveiled at the U.S. Capitol in 1841, some saw what they regarded as an “inappropriately dressed” president.
“Undressed” is more like it. While George’s form is buff, he’s also a tad too close, for some, to being in the buff. Nipples, navel, they’re all there.
As the information accompanying the 12 tons of marble currently describes it, sculptor Horatio Greenough “envisioned the work as a symbolic representation of Washington as a great exemplar of liberty.”
Greenough’s sculpture is rich with symbols: Washington’s figure is modeled on the classic statuary of ancient Greece, seat of the world’s first democracy. Carvings on the sides depict the Greek god Apollo and an infant Hercules. Small flanking figures of an American Indian and Christopher Columbus represent the New and Old Worlds.
“The most important symbol, however, is the sword in Washington’s outstretched hand: this celebrates the fact that after he led the country to victory in the American Revolution, he selflessly relinquished his power to the people.”
The nation’s famous general and first chief executive is also seated on a throne, which Washington eschewed as he took the title of president instead of king. But it was the larger-than-life bare-chestedness that offended visitors to the Capitol, so the sculpture was moved outdoors two years after its dedication.
Smog and acid rain eat away marble, so semi-nude Washington’s sun-washed and sandaled sojourn lasted only 65 years. Not-king George took up residence in the red brick Smithsonian castle until 1964. His third home was the Museum of History and Technology, now known as the National Museum of American History, where all 11 feet, 4 inches of taciturn tenant in toga and towel remain to this day.