The Eighth Hungarian Tribe, 1983 (10. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)

1983-11-01 / 11. szám

Page 8 THE EIGHTH HUNGARIAN TRIBE November, 1983 sizeable contributions, it was the “little people” of France who con­tributed the most. France had responded. The French people had matched their hearts with their money. The pro­ject was set to go. Bartholdi went to work. But, in America, all was quiet. There was not a ripple. Wallets and pocketbooks remained tightly closed. As far as most Americans were concerned, it seemed, if the French wanted to give them a gift, then let them pay for it! THE WORK BEGINS Bartholdi decided to forge his statue of sheets of copper supported by an inner skeletal framework. Copper — soft enough to be molded, light enough to be transported across the sea, and durable enough to resist the salt air of New York Harbor. Obviously, so huge a work could not be made in one piece. Nor could it be made all at once. Initially, four­­foot models were made. Then, the size was increased to models nine feet high; then a model four times as big — thirty-six feet tall. At each step, detailed work was studied, re­viewed, and judged. When the final “first copy” was made, there could not be the smallest error — no fur­ther changes could be made. Now the multiplication process commenced. The statue was to stand some one hundred fifty feet high. Working from a thirty-six foot model called for meticulous calcula­tions. The small model was marked with dots. Measurements were made between the markings and multiplied four times — to be trans­ferred to another model four times as large. Each section of the model — robe, feet, flowing garments — was marked, measured, and multi­plied. Then, in a huge workshop loaned to Bartholdi for his operation, a great wooden frame was constructed. Over this was placed a plaster mold. And over the plaster was placed a wooden mold from Parisians kept note of Bartholdi's prog­ress as they enjoyed their daily walks near his workshop. —From Time Books which the ultimate copper form would come. The copper sheets were then beaten into shape over the wooden forms — beaten by hand-wielded mallets. This method — called repousse' — required the services of expert craftsmen and artisans. Under the personal supervision of Bartholdi and a host of experts, the great “Copper Lady” took shape. Because copper is soft, and be­cause the statue would be so vast, the problem of sustaining the struc­ture arose. Here, Bartholdi had additional luck. He consulted Alex­andre Gustave Eiffel. Eiffel was a famous engineer and bridge builder whose work was characterized by lacy steel frameworks. He felt that such a frame, within the copper “flesh” of the statue, would be strong enough and light enough to solve the problem. Eiffel’s great tower had not yet been built, but the skeletal principles were the same. Two huge structures then grew: the steel framework — 250,000 pounds of it, and the copper outer skin — 200,000 pounds of it. With great care the work went on. Allow­ance was made for expansion and contraction in changing weather, for insulating the metal mass against electrical storms, for treat­ment against corrosion from moisture and salt air. And all went well. By 1883 the colossus was com­plete. She stood in majesty in Bart­holdi’s work-yard, surveying the rooftops of Paris. The “Statue of Liberty Enlightening the World” waited patiently for the trip to her appointed home. Back in 1876, Bartholdi had shipped to the United States a part of his work — the arm and torch of Liberty. There, on display at the Centennial Fair in Philadelphia’s Fairmount Park, the work became the focus of attention. On its first day, well over 100,000 people marv­eled at the magnificent spectacle. The statue’s place in America seemed assured. But this was not quite so! MEANWHILE, BACK IN AMERICA In New York, in January 1877, a meeting was held. Bartholdi had re­turned to America. Distinguished Americans from all over the coun­try were assembled to meet him again. This meeting was held to ad­dress the problem of raising money. A Committee was organized — The American Committee for the Statue of Liberty. Its goal — $125,000. The first problem — public and institu­tional apathy. Although Congress passed a resolution authorizing the President to accept the statue and to designate Bedloe’s Island, in New York Harbor, as its site, the univer­sal response was — nothing! The press was against the idea. People were not interested. Sus­picions flourished, as well as anti- New York sentiment. “If New York wants it, let New York pay for it,” was the cry. By 1883, only $85,000.00 had been raised. Committees were set up all over the country. Pamphlets were pub­lished. Speakers were sent out. Collection boxes were placed in post-offices and hotels. Congress almost passed a resolution to allo­cate $100,000.00 for the pedestal. But the bill died in committee. Governor Cleveland of New York vetoed a State bill that would have allowed New York City to appro­priate $50,000.00 for the Pedestal

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