The immediate problem which faced the sculptor was how to get men to their work in the middle of a steep cliff 800 feet high. The quarry men who had been taking granite from Stone Mountain for years had never thought of taking any from the steep side. How then were men who had to be able to handle drills freely and easily without fear on intricate work to get to their places. Engineers were consulted. All advised against tackling such an insurmountable problem.
Finally, at the suggestion of the inventor Lester Barlow, The Brown Hoist Machinery Company of Cleveland, Barlow’s firm, sent two of its best engineers to Stone Mountain. They went into the matter in great detail. They evolved a grandiose plan for a steel mechanism 550 feet high, with sliding platforms and elevators to carry the workers to their stations. The cost of this structure was set at $200,000, not too much, probably, but far beyond the reach of the sponsors of the project.
The sculptor, however, was undaunted. He devised a strong leather harness with a seat attached, to be buckled around the waist, in which a man could sit and push himself around by his feet, leaving his hands free to use drills or paintbrush. The harness was attached to a steel cable fastened at the other end to a winch or wheel hoist, which could be operated by one man turning the wheel so the worker could be pulled up or let down as was necessary. The winches were firmly anchored to the stone.
By this device the sculptor could and did go all over the face of the cliff, exploring the surface imperfections. Tucker got a bad jolt doing it in the dark. Even Governor Trinkle of Virginia proved—to the terror of his wife watching from below—that he too could go adventuring over the rock. By adding more platforms on which carvers could stand securely and on which stepladders could be placed to increase their reach, it was found that men could soon learn to carve as comfortably as in a studio on the ground.
The sculptor had gone back to Stamford to work on sketches and models for the carving when the First World War intervened. The government needed all the engineers in the country. Jesse Tucker joined the army and went overseas. Gutzon took up the aircraft investigation. The project of Stone Mountain came to a stop. Work on it was to be delayed for some eight years.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
THE IMPERISHABLE MONUMENT
The sculptor came out of the war and the aircraft investigations heavily in debt. Fortunately he received some large commissions for carving public memorials, but the sponsors of these projects wanted to have his exclusive attention. There was the customary trouble of the setting for one finished piece, and the creation of another, the Wars of America group, was a matter that seemed impossible to finish. As a result Stone Mountain, which seems to have become his most important interest, was a long time hearing from him.
Jesse Tucker, back from the wars, paid a visit to the old workings and made an earnest report. “The stairs and scaffolding need immediate repairs if they are to stay where we put them,” Captain Tucker said. “In fact, I should earnestly ask you to come down here if you don’t want to lose everything you accomplished before the war.”
There wasn’t much more money available. People digging down in their pockets to support a world war didn’t have much change for a memorial to the Confederacy. That had waited until now; it could wait further. But lack of cash did not delay Gutzon after he had heard from Tucker. There never had been any cash anyway.
When Borglum arrived at Stone Mountain in the summer of 1921 he was filled with new enthusiasms, new ideas that had come to him during the war years and during his struggles with headstrong committeemen who couldn’t decide what they wanted. The sculptor looked at the granite mountain and took a deep breath. After all, this was home. This was one place in America where he could never have harsh words with anybody. Here were people who thought as he did—people willing to sacrifice anything they had, to glorify the spirit of those who had gone.