Liberty's Torch: The Great Adventure to Build the Statue of Liberty (40 page)

My research relied heavily on the help of Régis Hueber at the Musée Bartholdi in Colmar, France. The preeminent scholar on Bartholdi, Régis endured my awkward French and my tight deadlines to not only provide me access to the remarkable Bartholdi archive he has curated for many years, but to gift me with texts and academic papers I would never have accessed any other way. He treated me with deep friendliness and eased my internment in the Bartholdi library with his coffee and cookies. As I departed on the last day, he hoisted a fist in the air and sweetly exclaimed,
“Bon courage!”
I hope he will think this book was worth all of his generous efforts.

When working on a project such as this, a writer can’t help admiring and thanking the scholars and journalists of the past. One of those is the late Rodman Gilder, the translator of Bartholdi’s diary and letters held at the New York Public Library’s manuscript division. Without his work, I would never have been lured into the story of the Statue of Liberty. Ever since I began working on historical pieces, I have paid homage to the generosity of Tom Tryniski, who created a free website,
oldfultonhistory.com
, digitizing New York state newspapers from 1795. I also used the Library of Congress’s Chronicling America, Google books, and the archives of the
New York Times
. Because of this deeper access to past texts, I was able to resuscitate the excellent work of anonymous turn-of-the-century editors and reporters.

I greatly admire the scholarship of Robert Belot and Daniel Bermond’s
Bartholdi.
This appears to be the only full biography of Bartholdi available and was enormously useful in providing background that would have been nearly impossible for me to track down in France, not to mention confirming the text of letters written in difficult to decipher handwriting. One of the best works on the statue was the volume produced by the New York Public Library and the Comité Officiel Franco-Américain pour la Célébration du Centenaire de la Statue de la Liberté with Pierre Provoyeur and June Hargrove,
Liberty: The French-American Statue in Art and History.
I also was very much inspired by Jocelyn Hackforth-Jones and Mary Roberts’s collection of essays,
Edges of Empire: Orientalism and Visual Culture.

I was aided by the archivists at the New York Public Library manuscript division; the Bibliothèque Municipale Colmar; and in Paris, the archivists at the Musée d’Orsay; the Bureau International des Expositions; the National Library of France; and the Laboulaye collection at the Collège de France. The Brooklyn Public Library, as always, provided useful volumes.

I was grateful to find the assistance of Sherry C. Birk at the American Architectural Foundation; Heather Cole at the Theodore Roosevelt Collection, Houghton Library, Harvard University; Gregory M. Walz, at the Utah State archives; Karen S. Flagg, descendent of D. H. King; Emily Walhout at the Houghton Reading Room, Harvard University; Peggy Spranzani of the Butler Museum; Bert Lippincott at the Newport Historical Society; Russell Flinchum of the Century Club; Derek Christian Quezada at the Getty Research Institute; Andrea Cronin at the Massachusetts Historical Society; Mireille Pastoureau of the Bibliothèque de l’Institut de France; the Office of the Historian for the U.S. House of Representatives; John Warren and George Tselos of the National Park Service; and France Auda and Lionel Dufaux of the Musée des Arts et Métiers. There is nothing like finding a smart and dedicated archivist on the other end of a telephone or e-mail exchange.

Addie Mitchell jump-started the research with thoroughness and speed; I would have been ill prepared for the first French research trip without her. Translators Rose Foran and Gabrielle Demeestere helped me navigate the turn-of-the-century French handwriting and denser texts with grace and good humor. Here too it would be appropriate to thank the ever-ready Susannah Hunnewell Weiss, who assisted with everything from finding said translators to providing instant phrase check to offering astute line edits. C. F. William Maurer, historian and former ranger at the Statue of Liberty, and my friend Timothy Houlihan graciously provided final reads of the manuscript, and I was thrilled to have the manuscript reviewed by such scholars.

I thank Jin Auh at the Wylie Agency for her counsel at the beginning of this project and Sarah Chalfant for her sagacity through the years.

At Grove/Atlantic Monthly Press, I am lucky enough to find superior care from Judy Hottensen—professionally stellar and personally delightful. I also thank Peter Blackstock for his hard work and intelligence taking what was a longer manuscript down to a more manageable size and posing astute queries, not to mention his efforts seeing the book through production. Brando Skyhorse brought the manuscript into house style with sensitivity. Great thanks to Tom Pitoniak for the attentive copyedit and Paul Sager for his helpful academic read. Susan Gamer is a gifted proofreader. Deb Seager, Justina Batchelor, and Charles Woods have been wonderful to work with as the book goes out into the world. And of course, all this happens under the leadership of Morgan Entrekin, champion of writers and literature.

Without Joan Bingham, this project would never have happened. She sought me out after my Byliner piece was published, advocated for the book in acquisition meetings, urged me on during the research, and enthusiastically edited the first manuscript drafts. Her contribution is meaningful to me in all sorts of ways, and I will always be honored that we shared this book together.

Not all of the help on a project like this takes place in archives. Many people aided me when I truly needed that assistance, including Maria Cecilia Rodriguez, Kate Yourke, Catia Harrington, Olga Moroz, Ashley Prine, Michelle Satz, Kelly Sanders, Don Gochenour, Camille Ky`-Smith, Korin Warren, Duncan Bock, Chris Sulavik, Tsalem Mueller, Sean Neary, David Greenhouse, Martha McPhee, Craig Marks, Mike Hudson, Maren McCarter Harper, Emiliano Casarosa, Ron Rosenbaum, Duncan Hannah, Laurent Girard, Ceridwen Morris, Sam Lipsyte, Rob Sheffield, Lisa Govan, Simon Doonan, Carl Sferrazza Anthony, Ted Widmer, Jeffrey Rotter, Matt Berman, Erin Norfleet Gentile, Marina Trejo, Craig Lively, Pilita Garcia, Ed Mitchell, Sam Mitchell, Suzanne Mitchell, Ann McGuire, Nadia Douglass, Colleen Cuddy, Natalie Moore, Marisa Sullivan, Connie Walsh, and the Giusto family. Edward Smith generously contributed his photographic talent for the book jacket. Peter Harper provided me with his expert advice and publishing knowledge, and my agent, Maria Massie at Lippincott Massie McQuilkin, kept me afloat with her advice, support, and gentle humor as the book headed to print.

When I think back over the period of this book, Darcey Steinke stands out as having surpassed even the call of friendship in settings from Paris to New York; what she did was extraordinary and I hope she knows how much it has meant. My brother, Chris Mitchell, never failed to provide his acumen and reassurance, even when under his own deadlines. I called on René Steinke and Natalie Standiford hundreds of times for advice and insight, and they never flagged. My wonderful parents, Alphonsus and Liz Mitchell, put in real work too in various stages of this book’s birth and so share in its creation.

But finally, this book is dedicated to my daughters, Lucy and Gigi Bryce. They put up with my deadlines, providing more than simple glimpses of brightness during those periods. These two little people were ever ready to cheer me on; provide opinions on titles, photos, and covers; and exude inexhaustible confidence. Lucy surprised me with a copy of
Lily and Miss Liberty
for my research, and Gigi offered shoulder rubs. I am grateful to them both and hope Bartholdi’s story will encourage them to one day create their own colossi, particularly in a medium the heart sees.

Notes

Prologue

“long sojourn in the world of fish”: Frédéric Auguste Bartholdi, letter to Charlotte Bartholdi, June 24, 1871, Frédéric Auguste Bartholdi papers, Schwarzman Building, Manuscripts and Archives, New York Public Library (hereinafter NYPL), translated by Rodman Gilder.

“A multitude of little sails”: New York, June 24, 1871, manuscript division, NYPL.

Isaac Bedlow, a Dutchman: Esther Singleton, ed. and coll.,
Famous Sculpture as Seen and Described by Great Writers
(New York: Dodd, Mead, 1910), pp. 353–54.

associated the island with such gory events: “Bedlow’s Island,”
Rochester Democrat and Chronicle,
Saturday, July 18, 1885, p. 3.

“one of the illustrations in an old picture-book”: Charles Barnard, “The Bartholdi Statue,”
St. Nicholas,
conducted by Mary Mapes Dodge, Vol. 11, Part 2, May 1884 to October 1884 (New York: The Century Co., 1884), p. 725.

Chapter 1

“I have won a treasure”: Musée Bartholdi, Colmar, France, IV 3 D.

“Since you like it so much here”: Letter from Charlotte to Jacques-Frédéric Bartholdi, Musée Bartholdi, IV, 2 C [no date].

“This was the last”: Letter from Charlotte to Jacques-Frédéric Bartholdi, Musée Bartholdi, IV, 2 C [no date].

Charlotte summoned: Letter from Charlotte to Mme Soehnée, Box II 11, IV (2) C, October 24, 1836.

“two marmosets”: Robert Belot and Daniel Bermond,
Bartholdi
(Paris: Perrin, 2004), p. 17.

“even if she desires”: Musée Bartholdi, IV 3 G.

“I will discuss the second child”: Letter from Charlotte to Jacques-Frédéric Bartholdi, IV, 2 C, November 1836.

“Persons curious of inspecting”:
Galignani’s New Paris Guide for 1851: Compiled from the Best Authorities
(Paris: A. & W. Galignani, 1851), p. 453.

“To avoid punishing him too frequently”: Belot and Bermond,
Bartholdi,
p. 22; Archives of Lycée Louis-le-Grand.

“He is weak and unaccustomed to work”: Ibid.

Like Charlotte, Scheffer’s mother: Mrs. (Harriet) Grote,
Memoir of the Life of Ary Scheffer,
2nd ed. (London: John Murray, 1860), p. 9.

“How admirable he is”: Belot and Bermond,
Bartholdi,
p. 37.

In 1818, when Scheffer: Grote,
Memoir of the Life of Ary Scheffer,
p. 17.

Bartholdi began sculpting small models: Pierre Provoyeur and June Hargrove,
Liberty: The French-American Statue in Art and History
(New York: Harper & Row, 1986),
p. 43.

compared to Michelangelo: Gustave Moureau,
Correspondance d’Italie
(Paris: Somogy, 2002), p. 144, archives of Musée d’Orsay, Paris.

Chopin, Liszt, and Gounod: Provoyeur and Hargrove,
Liberty,
p. 44.

“Production is everywhere increasing”: David McCulloch,
The Greater Journey: Americans in Paris
(New York: Simon & Schuster, 2011), p. 181.

“From every window”: Captain (Frederick) Chamier,
A Review of the French Revolution of 1848: From the 21st of February to the Election of the First President,
vol. 1 (London: Reeve, Benham & Reeve, 1849), p. 22.

“Stay armed, citizens!”: Belot and Bermond,
Bartholdi,
p. 24.

“These are the invasions”: Michael Camille,
The Gargoyles of Notre-Dame: Medievalism and the Monsters of Modernity
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2008), p. 158.

“They are both ungrateful”: Belot and Bermond,
Bartholdi,
p. 30.

“What is this devil”: Ibid., p. 31.

“I am alone in this desert of men”: Ibid., p. 30.

Yet Charlotte continued to help: Cédric Oberlé under the direction of Laurent Baridon,
Les Monuments funéraires d’Auguste Bartholdi liés à la guerre de 1870; Mémoire de Maîtrise
(Strasbourg: Université Marc Bloch, 1999–2000), p. 11.

In the next room, he created: Theodore Stanton, “August Bartholdi: The Remarkable Alsacian Described by Theodore Stanton,”
Marion (Ohio) Star,
October 17, 1885, p. 3.

“the work best capable”: Albert Boime,
Art in Age of Civil Struggle
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2007), p. 592.