|
For twelve days the steamer had been steaming on and on toward the western horizon, and, just as fast, the horizon had seemed to flyaway, leaving the ship always in the center of the great circle. Soon the magical change was to come, and the land would appear to rise out of the water. Already the sea-gulls had come back; the sun was warmer, and it seemed as if we were coming to a new country.
Everyone was on deck, watching for the first sight of the land. More than a thousand men, women, and children were on board, - and to most of them the great continent just under that pale blue horizon was a land of hope and promise. Land must be very near, for at the foremast head a sailor ran up a new flag. It seemed to flutter over them all in a friendly way, and perhaps some of them looked at it with new hope and fresh courage.
"Fire Island abeam!" cried out the sailor on the lookout. Everyone gazed off to the right. There it stood, just a gray tower, apparently standing up in the water. Strange they had not noticed it before. Then some one began to point at a blue cloud low down on the water. Was it mist, or fog, - or something else? The forward deck was packed with people of every nation and tongue, and all were of the great nation of poor people, which somehow seems to be the greatest nation of all. There had been loud laughter, talking, and confusion of tongues for days. Now, under the intense white sunlight, the warm, languid air, and the faint smell of land, they were hushed and silent. The new home was rising from the sea. Slowly the wonders grew, - the great mass of the Highlands with its two white eyes ever looking down on the sea; the magic city on the white beaches; the strange ships and boats; the vast bay and the rising shores, green with deep woods; then the grand entrance between the gray old forts, so different from European forts; the harbor, the great river, the wonderful bridge, and the city.
By tens of thousands, month after month, year after year, just such throngs of people sail into New York harbor, looking for liberty and a fair chance in the world. Once a certain man from France was on board one of these ships, as it sailed into the bay. Perhaps he too saw the great assemblage of the emigrants looking in hope and wonder on the new land; and the thought came to him - What a joy and encouragement it would be to these people if they should see something to welcome them, to remind them that this is a republic. What if there stood, like a great guardian, at the entrance of the continent, a colossal statue - a grand figure of a woman holding aloft a torch, and symbolizing Liberty enlightening the World!
The man was a sculptor, and his name was Auguste Bartholdi. When he went home to France, he broached his idea of the great statue, and discussed it with his friends and acquaintances. Some doubted, but others approved; gradually, many people - including leading men of the nation - became interested in the scheme; and, after several years of working and waiting, the money required for building the statue came in from the rich and the poor of France. The French people decided to build the statue, and to present it to the American people.
When the sculptor conceived the idea of the statue, he, no doubt, thought of the different ways in which it could be made. It could be carved in stone or cast in metal. Think of a stone statue almost one hundred and fifty feet high,- higher than many a church-steeple, and about as high as the arch of the Brooklyn Bridge. Who could lift it into place? Who could carve such a monster? It might be constructed of smaller stones put together. But that would never do. The cracks between the stones would show, and it would be liable to fall to pieces. The Obelisk in Central Park is in one stone, but then its height is less than half the height named for the proposed statue. Clearly, stone would never do. Could it be cast in bronze -even in small pieces - and then put together? Not easily; it would be too heavy and too costly.
At one time a certain sculptor, called "Il Cerano", built a colossal statue near Atona, on the shore of Lake Maggiore, in Italy. It was made on quite a different plan from those employed with carved statues or with statues cast in bronze. It was made of copper, in thin sheets, laid upon a frame or skeleton of stone, wood, and iron. Such a method of work is called repousse, which means " hammered " work, because the thin sheets of metal are hammered into shape. Bartholdi, the projector of the great statue of Liberty, decided that it, too, must be done in repousse, or sheets of hammered bronze.
So when the money for the work had been fully secured, the actual labor began; and a strange, curious labor it was. First, there had to be a sketch or model. This was a figure of the statue in clay, to give an idea of how it would look. The public approved of this model, and then the first real study of the work was made, - a plaster statue, just one-sixteenth the size of the intended statue.
BUILDING THE FULL-SIZE PLASTER MODEL OF THE LEFT HAND.
(SHOWING THE WOODEN FRAME-WORK)
The next step was to make another model just four times as large, or one-fourth the size of the real statue. Now the model began to assume something of the proportions intended, and it was carefully studied and worked over to make it as perfect as possible. This quarter-size model being finished, then came the task of making the full-size model in plaster. But this had to be made in sec- tions. For instance, the first section would include the bas& on which the figure stood, the feet, and the hem of the garment. The next section would include a circle quite round the long flowing dress, just above the hem. The third section would stand above this and show more of the folds of the dress, and reach part way up to the knee. In like manner, the whole figure would be divided into sections.
The quarter-size model was first divided in this way, and then to layout the full-size plan it was only necessary to make a plan of each section four times as large as the section actually was in the model. Every part of the model was covered with marks or dots for guides, and by measuring from dot to dot, increasing the measurement four times, and then transferring it to the larger model, an exact copy just four times as large was made. For each of these large sections, however, there had to be a support of some kind, before the plaster could be laid on. Having marked on the floor an outline plan of the enlarged section, a wooden frame-work was built up inside the plan. Then upon this frame-work plaster was roughly spread. It soon resembled, in a rude way, the conesponding section of the quarter-size model, but was four times as large. Then the workmen copied in this pile of plaster every feature of the model section, measuring and measuring, again and again, from dot to dot, correcting by means of plumb-lines, and patiently trying and retrying till an exact copy - only in proportions four times as large was attained.
The picture on this page shows the wooden frame of one of the hands, and a portion of the plaster already laid on the frame.
The great irregularity of the drapery made it necessary to put three hundred marks on each section, besides twelve hundred smaller guide- marks, in order to insure an exact correspondence in proportion between the enlarged sections of the full-size model and the sections of the quarter-size model. Each of these marks, moreover, had to be measured three times on both models, and after that came all the remeasurements, to prove that not a single mistake had been made.
AT WORK UPON THE LEFT HAND
When these sections in plaster had been completed, then came the work of making wooden molds that should be exact copies both in size and modeling of the plaster. These were all carefully made by hand. It was a long, tedious, and difficult piece of work; but there are few workmen who could do it better than these French carpenters. Each piece was a mold of a part of the statue, exactly fitting every projection, depression, and curve of that portion of the figure or drapery. Into these wooden molds sheets of metal were laid, and pressed or beaten down till they fitted the irregular surfaces of the molds. All the repousse, or hammered work, was done from the back, or inside, of the sheet. If the mold is an exact copy of a part of the statue, it is easy to see that the sheet of metal, when made to fit it, will, when taken out and turned over, be a copy of that part of the statue.
These sheets were of copper, and each was from one to three yards square. Each formed a part of the bronze statue, and of course no two were alike. In this complicated manner, by making first a sketch, then a quarter-size model, then a full-size model in sections, then hundreds of wooden copies, and lastly by beating into shape three hundred sheets of copper, the enormous statue was finished. These three hundred bent and hammered plates, weighing in all eighty-eight tons, form the outside of the statue. They are very thin, and while they fit each other perfectly, it is quite plain that if they were put together in their proper order they would never stand alone. It would be like building a dwelling-house out of boards placed on edge. It would surely tumble down by its own weight or be blown over by the first storm. These hammered sheets make the outside of the statue; but there must be also a skeleton, a bony structure inside, to hold it together. This is of iron beams, firmly riveted together, and making a support to which the copper shell can be fastened.
On page 731 is a picture of the great statue partially finished. The lower half of the figure appears almost completed. Above that can be seen, inside the staging, the great iron skeleton that supports the figure. High above the staging rise the iron bones of the uplifted arm, - not a handsome arm as yet, because it is not clothed with its rich, dark copper skin. The houses seen in the background give a good idea of the height and proportions of the great statue. The head and the hand, already finished, can be seen on the ground at the left of the statue. The right hand and torch were made first, and were shown at the Centennial Exhibition at Philadelphia in 1876, and, after that, were for some time erected in Madison Square, New York City. The head was also shown in Paris at the time of the last exposition. A picture on page 730 shows the head as it stood in the work-shop.
In erecting such a great statue, two things had to be considered that seem very trifling, and yet, if neglected, might destroy the statue in one day; or cause it to crumble slowly to pieces. One is the sun, the other is the sea breeze. Either of these could destroy the great copper figure, and something must be done to prevent such a disaster. The heat of the sun would expand the metal and pull it out of shape, precisely as it does pull the Brooklyn Bridge out of shape every day. The bridge is made in four parts, and when they expand with the heat of the sun they slide one past the other, and no harm is done. The river span rises and falls day and night, as heat and cold alternate. The great copper statue 'is likewise in two parts, the frame-work of iron and the copper covering; and while they are securely fastened together they can move one over the other. Each bolt will slip a trifle as the copper expands in the hot August sunshine, and slide back again when the freezing winds blow and the vast figure shrinks together in the cold. Besides this, the copper surface is so thin and elastic that it will bend slightly when heated and still keep its general shape.
The salt air blowing in from the sea has thin fingers and a bitter, biting tongue. If it finds a crack where it can creep in between, the copper surface and iron skeleton, there will be trouble at once. These metals do not agree together, and where there is salt moisture in the air they seem to quarrel more bitterly than ever. It seems that every joining of points of copper and iron makes a tiny battery, and so faint shivers of electricity would run through all the statue, slowly corroding and eating it into dust. This curious, silent, and yet sure destruction must be prevented, and so every joint throughout the statue, wherever copper touches iron, must be protected with little rags stuffed between the metals to keep them from quarreling. It is the same wherever two different metals touch each other. Imagine what a tremendous battery the Liberty would make, with its tons of copper surface and monstrous skeleton of iron. However, a little care prevents all danger, as provision will be made, of course, for keeping the metals from touching each other.
When, in 1870, Bartholdi sailed into our beautiful bay, and had his grand day-dream of this wonderful bronze figure lifting aloft her torch, he saw away to the south-west of the Battery, and opposite the New Jersey shore, a grassy island on which stood a stone fort.
This island, which contains only twelve acres, lies about a mile and a half south of Jersey City, and all vessels going in or out of port must pass it. It is also in full view of the lower parts of New York and Brooklyn. To the west and south spreads the "ride bay, with the low Jersey shore and the blue Orange Mountains beyond. To the south rise the hills of Staten Island and the Narrows, with a glimpse of the sea between. On clear days, even the Highlands can be seen glimmering on the far southern horizon, nearly thirty miles away.
And here, alone on an island, but in sight of three cities, the great statue of Liberty will stand. Her torch, indeed, will be in plain sight of all the cities round about: Newark, the Oranges, all the white villages clinging to the hills beyond, the summer cities by the sea, and that green and wooded city that with dull white eyes looks down on the bay from the silent hills on Long Island. Two million people can plainly see the great bronze figure from their homes, and another million, in country homes, will see her lamp by night; while men, women, and children of every nation will pass in ships beneath her mighty shadow.
"LIBERTY ENLIGHTENING THE WORLD" The colossal Statue by A. Bartholdi, to be erected on Bedloe's Island, New York Harbor
They call the place where the statue is to stand Bedloe's Island, because old Isaac Bedloe, a sturdy Dutchman of New Amsterdam, bought it of the colonial government, We do not knoW much about him, except that he died in 1672. However, we may confidently assume that the island was seen by Hendrick Hudson when he first explored the Hudson River. The Dutch colonists must have passed close to it on their way to Communipaw, where they first settled before they founded New Amsterdam.
|