The bronze statue was unveiled in Washington in 1930, and Mrs. Greenway ordered a replica to be placed in Arizona. The friendship between her and the sculptor which began at first sight was without a flaw during their lifetime.

From the state of North Carolina, meanwhile, came a commission for a bronze group in memory of Carolina soldiers who led the immortal Pickett’s Charge at the Battle of Gettysburg, a dramatic climax that marked the high tide of the Confederacy and from which Lee’s army reeled back in defeat, never to attempt another invasion of the North. The sculptor had submitted a small-scale model of the group, made in his Breckenridge Park studio at San Antonio in 1928. This was accepted and he was busy with an improved large-scale model when the same wearisome correspondence began, caused by some misunderstanding of the artist’s habit of developing, that is, bettering, the original plan.

Here, for example, is a letter from Mr. Barringer, a member of the memorial committee, written to another member, Mr. Fuller, after seeing photographs of the large-scale model and noting with anxiety that changes had been made from the original. He said:

It is out of the question for me to go to San Antonio to examine the model. I am perfectly willing, however, to abide by your judgment. I confess to being somewhat disappointed, particularly in the expressions of the faces. They do not give promise of being as good as those on the smaller model. Moreover, I cannot help agreeing with the governor that the model does not seem to be completely finished.

If Borglum will put his best into this monument, as we have the right to believe he will do, it will be a great monument. I feel sure of that. Such is my confidence in Borglum I know that if he can make a good small model, he can also make a good large one.

To the sculptor this same Mr. Barringer made the following interesting comment about facial expressions:

It was Darwin, I think, who pointed out that the sneer originated in an unconscious effort to uncover the canine or fighting tooth. Most men, when very angry or about to go into a fight, have a sneering expression. I have seen somewhere the expression “a snarling grin,” which conveys the idea very well. Might it not be well to put on one of your faces this “snarling grin?” For it is doubtless the characteristic of many men when they are charging the enemy.

Gutzon was quick to welcome any suggestion for improving his work from any interested source. In answer he wrote:

Thank you for your letter just received and also for the suggestion you have made. I not only think it is good, but I have just the man on whose face I would like to put that sinister expression. The man in front must be too thoughtful, too conscious of his danger and too indifferent to it, to have any emotional feelings. He is too determined. The one just back of him, the boy, will express amazement, fear—a little—but surprise and youth more. To the bearded man next to him, the one you thought was crowding him a little too close, I will give an expression of anger and supply the snarling grin. Of course, the boy back of him with the flag is too much occupied with the load he is carrying and too important to be anxious about anything but getting forward.

Because the memorial was to stand on the Gettysburg battlefield, it was highly important to locate it properly in relation to other incidents and heroes of the great battle. A special site committee was appointed, and as its chairman the sculptor had the chief responsibility. On one visit to the field he had the happy fortune to meet Mrs. Elsie Singmaster Lewars, a well-known writer who lived on Seminary Ridge, another famous part of the battleground. She was familiar with the whole historic region, knew its charges and countercharges by heart, and so gave invaluable help in selecting precisely the right site for the memorial.