To celebrate the centenary of the US Declaration of Independence and the Union’s victory in the Civil War, the idea of a gift was born. A symbol of friendship between France and America, the idea would leave a mark on many generations for centuries to come, on whole populations of immigrants arriving in the Promised Land, and on all those who would come to call themselves Americans.
One night, during a state dinner, French sculptor Frédéric Auguste Bartholdi was sipping a glass of bourbon in the company of US President Ulysses S. Grant, surrounded by New York high society. The reason for his visit was still a secret, but Bartholdi had already begun his search for an island. His attention was focused on the undeveloped Bedloe Island, which would provide the ideal location to install his monumental creation. Bartholdi sought to bring into being the vision of abolitionist Édouard de Laboulaye, by erecting a commemorative monument to American independence. Of course, this kind of project would need funding, for there were workers and tradesmen and masons to pay. Fortunately, New York Republicans were generous when it came to philanthropy – especially the patriotic sort. With the right persuasion they were certain to participate in the colossal project, and if their pockets were deep enough the project could go ahead. Bartholdi could feel that the time was right. Upon his return to Paris he had his mother, Charlotte, pose for a sketch, and from this sketch he made his first model of the statue. She was to stand forty-six metres tall, and so Bartholdi chose copper – a light metal – as his main component. The statue would be a shining bronze colour, like an American penny. As oxidation set in, Liberty Lighting the World would soon turn green, as we know her now. A few months later, Bartholdi had gathered the funds he needed from the Franco-American Union to proceed with his gargantuan project. As they strolled by Bartholdi’s workshops on the Champs de Mars, Parisians began to hear hammer blows, the scraping of files and the clack of chains. All around there was commotion and brouhaha, as the scale of the artwork created the hullaballoo of some vast factory.
A plaster model of the statue was built, standing at just over two metres tall, from which the many different panels of the real statue could be extrapolated. Each section being worked up to its final size was assembled in a framed structure and coated in plaster, allowing workers to press the copper sheets on to the structure. These 300 pieces of copper sheeting, each 1 to 3 millimetres thick, formed the outer skin of the Statue. Bartholdi began to worry about the complexity of the project, but each step was essential in order to achieve his vision of Liberty Lighting the World, as he had named her. The workers were exhausted, and the masons’ hands trembled, and the carpenters could work no more. But haste was needed, as the centenary of US independence was approaching.
Gustave Eiffel took over the project in 1879, preferring a metal structure for the statue’s infamous three hundred sheets of copper. Two years went by. The workers were tasked with assembling the three hundred pieces, each weighing eighty tonnes, with rivets. It was no easy feat, and the final piece to be set in place was the famous tablet, inscribed with the date of US independence in Roman numerals.
On the day of the statue’s inauguration the Americans stood in awe, for surely they were looking upon the eighth wonder of the world.
The Statue of Liberty came to stand as the symbol of America itself. For the emigrants who crowded on the packed decks of ships, the first glimpse of the statue was their ticket to a better life, the sight of her face giving them hope during their quarantine on Ellis Island. For those weary travellers, the sombre statue and her torch represented the Promised Land. From this idea was born a more general symbolism: the statue represented the freedom of all peoples struggling against oppressors. Lady Liberty cut a patriotic figure, her torch thrust upward in a stirring gesture of resistance.
Alan Alfredo Geday