Vulcan: a Symbol of Birmingham's Industrial Epoch

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Vulcan: A Symbol of Birmingham’s Industrial Epoch

Jameson A. Pressley Faculty Mentor: Dr. James Sanders Day Faculty Mentor:University Dr. James of Montevallo Sanders Day Pressley 1

As dawn broke over Missouri on the morning of 30 April 1904, the eyes of the world were on St. Louis. The city’s residents and both national and international visitors busied themselves for one of the most important days in the history of the United States and the world. By mid- morning, masses traveled in droves to Forest Park to watch St. Louis make history with the opening ceremony of the 1904 World’s Fair, also known as The Louisiana Purchase Exposition. As morning turned to early afternoon, a crowd of roughly 190,000 people listened to numerous keynote speakers, including political leaders and various officials from the Louisiana Purchase Exposition Company’s Board of Directors led by Board President David R. Francis. A four-mile long procession included bands conducted by famed composer John Philip Sousa.1 Shortly after noon, Francis made his way to the area designated for the inaugural and placed his fingertip on the key designed to open Forest Park’s gates. With the press of a button, Francis declared the Louisiana Purchase Exposition open to the public. Crowds roared as hundreds of machines hummed to life. Waters held in the subterranean caverns under Festival Hall rushed thunderously down the park’s cascades, while ten-thousand flags unfurled from their masts simultaneously. The nations of the world watched as Forest Park came to life.2 Over the next seven months, fair-goers marveled over the latest advancements in human ingenuity within the sectors of technology, fine arts, manufacturing, science, civics, foreign policy, and education.3 Visitors to the Fair caught a glimpse of the Liberty Bell. They walked through various international pavilions resembling famous landmarks, such as Ireland’s Blarney Castle and India’s Taj Mahal. For a dime, people collected the autograph of Geronimo, arguably one of the most legendary Apache leaders.4 Yet, with the closing of Forest Park’s gates in December 1904, Alabama’s Vulcan statue remained one of the most highly regarded exhibits of the entire Exposition, rightfully earning a reputation as a crowd favorite.5 Housed in the Palace of Mines and Metallurgy, Vulcan represented more than one sector of technological innovation; rather, in Vulcan, attendees observed a structure incorporating several areas of industrial and technological advancement. The process of designing and casting the figure demonstrated progressions made in technological practices associated with the science of metallurgy and manufacturing. Fundraising efforts became a communal activity, as Alabama’s business owners and residents honored their civic duty by contributing to the project by any means possible. Last, Vulcan presented a challenge solved by fostering international relations between an Italian-born sculptor living in New York and Vulcan’s conglomerate of local sponsors. Furthermore, a statue of Vulcan’s magnitude represented a complex work of art complete with its own set of unforeseen challenges. Nevertheless, the process of taking Vulcan from a simple artistic rendering to the largest cast iron statue in the world is nothing short of remarkable. The idea for Vulcan emerged from the desire to promulgate Alabama’s industrial dexterity to the developing nations of the world. However, Vulcan grew to represent the bedrock principles of vision and perseverance exhibited by the Birmingham community since the city’s founding.6 Even today, Vulcan is more than just a statue to the people of Birmingham. He educates, intrigues, and entertains. He acts as a sentry, silently guarding the community humming at his feet. He captivates all who venture to his post atop Red Mountain, where he stands as a symbol of Birmingham’s Industrial Epoch. Yet, to grasp the full extent of this public affection for Vulcan, one must understand the significance of the very soil on which he stands. Since its establishment, the Birmingham District has experienced times characterized by significant triumphs, and conversely by devastating failures. Birmingham’s boom-and-bust periods are woven into the fabric and heritage of this unique town, standing as a testament to the Pressley 2

extraordinary resilience, unrelenting strength, and remarkable sense of civic pride held by its citizens. Astonishingly, one of the darkest periods in American history served as the catalyst that ignited a series of events that set the stage for the Birmingham District’s meteoric rise. During the last few months of the American Civil War, Union forces undertook an operation designed to hinder the Confederacy’s ability to sustain its war efforts against the Federal army. Ultimately, U.S. Brigadier General James H. Wilson and his cavalry unit entered Alabama 13,480 strong and took aim at southern industrial facilities.7 In the spring of 1865, Brig. Gen. Wilson commenced a blitzkrieg-style offensive against the industrial facilities of Alabama and Georgia. Beginning in March, Wilson’s men carved a path of devastation from Gravelly Springs, Alabama, to Macon, Georgia. Railroads served as vital arteries necessary for ensuring the movement of men and materiel from place-to-place. Accordingly, Wilson ordered his men to raze any rail line responsible for connecting Central Alabama to the outside world. In Selma, Union raiders leveled the Confederate Arsenal, Naval Foundry, rolling mills, train depots, and Nitre Works. Overall, Wilson’s men destroyed eleven iron works throughout the State, effectively delivering a death blow to the Confederate war effort.8 With Alabama no longer capable of sustaining the Confederate army, the Rebels faced certain defeat. Wilson’s Raid concluded with the capture of Jefferson Davis, President of the Confederacy, on 10 May 1865 near Irwinville, Georgia.9 Wilson’s onslaught reduced Alabama’s industrial centers to little more than smoldering embers. According to Ethel Armes, all of the state’s resources related to iron-making were almost all but lost.10 Although faced with insurmountable odds, a group of northern industrialists remained steadfast in their determination to exploit the valuable resources contained in the soil of Jones Valley.

Modern-day Birmingham radiates from Jones Valley, a small part of the Appalachian foothills. This northern mineral region contains four coal fields: the Warrior, Cahaba, Coosa, and Plateau. The Warrior field encompasses an area spanning approximately 3,000 square miles (roughly 70 miles long and 65 miles wide). The Warrior passes through several Central Alabama counties – Jefferson, Blount, Cullman, Winston, Fayette, Tuscaloosa – while all of Walker County lies within range of the field. The Warrior field gained a powerful reputation as a site which provided a superior grade of bituminous coal that could be used in the production of steam, gas, and coke, the primary fuel source needed in the iron- and steel-making processes. Additionally, the Warrior field contained the Pratt Seam, which provided untold amounts of coal to Birmingham’s iron industry beginning in the 1870s. The Cahaba field spans an area of roughly 355 square miles (66 miles long and 5 to 6 miles wide). The field passes through parts of St. Clair, Bibb, Shelby, and Jefferson Counties. Exploration of this coal region began during the 1830s, while mining activities did not take place until the late 1830s and ‘40s. The Cahaba gained notoriety as a field containing high-grade coal used for domestic purposes, as well as for making steam and as a fuel source. As the smallest of the four fields, the Coosa incorporates an area equal to 340 square miles and stretches across Shelby and St. Clair Counties. Despite the sheer size of the Plateau field, the area has remained largely undisturbed.

In addition to a wealth of consumable coal fields, Jones Valley possesses other significant mineral resources. Underlying the entire valley are thick layers of limestone and dolomite, also referred to as fluxing stone. These seams range in thickness, with limestone reaching depths of 200 to 500 feet, and dolomite spanning depths of 400 to 600 feet. Also situated within the valley is Red Mountain, located on the southern edge of Birmingham. This natural landmark is named Pressley 3

for the rich veins of red hematite iron ore coursing throughout. The mountain’s largest seam fluctuates in thickness from ten to twenty-two feet.11 The presence of coal, iron ore, and fluxing stone within relatively close proximity is what made the region significant to the founders of the Birmingham District. These resources represent the “Holy Trinity” as these are the primary ingredients necessary for iron production. However, these resources provided no value unless they were extracted, processed, and transported to commercial buyers. Unless adequate lines of transportation could be established to ship finished products to northern markets, Alabama would remain a cotton state.

Prior to the Civil War, Alabama’s infrastructure remained largely underdeveloped. This encouraged Alabama’s lawmakers to pass legislation allowing the governor to take reasonable action to stimulate railroad expansion within the state. Therefore, in 1858, Alabama Governor Andrew B. Moore tasked John Turner Milner with finding an ideal location for a new railroad designed to connect the shipping lanes of the Alabama River to those of the Tennessee. As an experienced miner, city surveyor, and civil engineer, Milner proposed the future site of the South & North Alabama Railroad. Soon thereafter, he accepted a position as chief engineer of the South & North, which placed him under the management of company president Frank T. Gilmer. While surveying Central Alabama, Milner gained a comprehensive understanding of the sheer abundance of raw mineral deposits situated underneath Jones Valley. He disclosed his findings to Gilmer, who authorized Milner to begin land purchasing negotiations with executives at the Alabama & Chattanooga Railroad. Their goal became the establishment of an industrial city at a point of intersection agreed upon by the two railroads. Ultimately, executives at the Alabama & Chattanooga reneged on their agreement, but Gilmer and Milner worked tirelessly to secure the capital necessary for railroad development throughout the region. This unwavering dedication to the concept of an industrial city led to the formation of the Elyton Land Company, which founded the City of Birmingham on 1 June 1871.12 In 1874, Henry W. Grady, who served as managing editor of the Atlanta Constitution, declared the birth of a new age in the post-war South, which he called the “New South Era.” Grady used this term to describe the monumental shift taking place in the southern United States, wherein the ancient agrarian society welcomed industrial development. Prior to the Civil War, Alabama’s entrepreneurs saw immense value in growing and harvesting cotton, while little regard was given to the overabundance of mineral resources located in Central Alabama. However, the focus of these enterprises shifted from agricultural pursuits to extraction and exploitation of the region’s subterranean ores. Consequently, preeminent authorities from the burgeoning industrial sectors of transportation and mining flooded Jones Valley with aims to develop a series of innovative technologies designed to unearth the territory’s vast mineral stores. Three such captains of industry played a vital role in developing the Birmingham District: James Withers Sloss, Truman Heminway Aldrich, and Henry Fairchild DeBardeleben.13 James Withers Sloss is one of Alabama’s self-made men. After experiencing success in commercial industry, Sloss began a career in the transportation sector. By exercising his influence and relying upon contacts made during his tenure as a railroad executive, Sloss served as a power player during the negotiations between the South & North and Alabama & Chattanooga, which led to the founding of Birmingham.14 However, Sloss became more well-known for his work as a visionary of cast iron. He realized that Birmingham would never be able to compete with the profitability of Pittsburgh’s steel industry, so he switched his focus to making cast iron. As a result, Pressley 4

Sloss became the first southern industrialist to demonstrate that first-rate cast iron could be made from the minerals extracted from the Birmingham District.15 The impact of Sloss’s vision is evident with the casting of Vulcan, as the statue’s architects chose to construct the massive structure out of Birmingham cast iron Truman Heminway Aldrich came to Alabama in 1872, aspiring to reinvent himself as a southern financier. However, he left the banking sector just two years later. Since Aldrich retained a vast amount of knowledge on coal geology and mining practices, he leased a coal mine near Montevallo, Alabama. By 1875, Aldrich ran a successful coal mining operation and had made a name for himself. Aldrich’s experience and education made him an invaluable resource to Birmingham’s early industrialists, as he reiterated that a surplus of minerals had little worth if they could not be exploited. Unsurprisingly, he became the State’s leading expert on geological study, scientific research, and industrial development.16 Henry Fairchild DeBardeleben is highly regarded as an ideal example of a prototypical New South era industrialist. As the son-in-law of cotton gin magnate Daniel Pratt, DeBardeleben inherited the start-up capital necessary for commercial activities and retained an innate charisma that made him a man who seemingly never met a stranger. In this role, DeBardeleben served as Birmingham’s chief promoter, telling all who would listen of Birmingham’s limitless potential. In 1877, Sloss, Aldrich, and DeBardeleben partnered to develop the Birmingham District. Their joint venture, the Pratt Coal and Coke Company, became one of Birmingham’s first large-scale coal mining operations. By 1881, Sloss and Aldrich left the company to begin their own enterprises. The meteoric rise of the “Magic City” had begun. 17 The story of how Birmingham’s Vulcan came into being starts with a basic understanding of an era christened by American author Mark Twain as The Gilded Age. During this period, which began at the close of the Civil War and concluded with Black Thursday and the Stock Market Crash of 1929, America experienced a staggering level of growth and prosperity. Technology advanced at lightning speed, rural cornfields became bustling metropolises, and big businesses led to unprecedented economic booms. To solemnize this influential age in history, contemporaries began erecting large statues of iron and copper that generated global intrigue. As a result, journalist, promotor, foreign correspondent, and Alabama State Fair manager James A. MacKnight, recognized the impact and advertising potential to be made by capitalizing on this trend. From the beginning, he envisioned an iron-casted structure so immense as to be the largest of its kind in the world. As an Alabama transplant himself, MacKnight realized that his concept had the potential to attract big-moneyed investors to Alabama. After all, Birmingham’s industrial prowess brought MacKnight to the city for that very reason. He saw an opportunity to advertise the industrial dexterity of the burgeoning Birmingham District at the upcoming 1904 World’s Fair in St. Louis. From the outset, MacKnight’s concept experienced numerous setbacks, including funding issues, time constraints, and considerable lack of support. The State of Alabama lacked the funds necessary for such an undertaking. Undeterred, MacKnight approached members of Birmingham’s Commercial Club (precursor to the city’s Chamber of Commerce) seeking the means to organize and finance the project. He found advocates in Commercial Club President F. M. Jackson and member J. B. Gibson. With their support, the club agreed to spearhead a fundraising campaign to Pressley 5

raise an estimated $15,000 (equivalent to $408,556 in 2017).∗ After the Commercial Club signed on, other prominent businessmen joined the endeavor. As editor and publisher of The Birmingham News, Rufus N. Rhodes launched a marketing campaign to publicize Vulcan ahead of the Fair. He published numerous articles designed to maximize the project’s exposure in hopes that this would spawn a flurry of donations. By mid-November 1903, MacKnight relayed to the Commercial Club that Cyrus Dallin of Boston, the sculptor MacKnight sought to design Vulcan, had declared that a statue of Vulcan’s magnitude would take upwards of two to three years to complete. According to Dallin, anyone who said otherwise was irrational. With little more than five months until the Fair’s opening, MacKnight knew time was running out. Luckily, just days later, he came across Italian-born sculptor Giuseppe Moretti. Having experience in bronze and iron casting, Moretti seemed an ideal choice for the venture. MacKnight commissioned Moretti on 24 November. Within two weeks, Moretti produced an eight-foot clay model of Vulcan. Given the green light by his clients in early December, Moretti and his sixteen assistants began Vulcan’s transformation from an eight-foot model to a fifty-six foot tall plaster giant. Due to the sheer size and weight of the piece, Moretti completed his work in upper and lower halves. By February 1904, Moretti’s work gained national attention after articles appeared in The New York Sun and The Chicago Tribune. What Dallin had projected would take two or three years, Moretti accomplished in just over one month. Assistants disassembled Vulcan carefully and loaded the sections onto train cars bound for the Birmingham Steel and Iron Company, where Vulcan would be transformed from plaster to cast iron. By mid-February, iron workers began the casting process, which would not be completed until after the Fair’s official opening. Meanwhile, expenses associated with the project could not be covered as quickly as they accrued. Fundraising became a full-scale community initiative. Ultimately, Birmingham’s business community donated large sums toward the exhibit, and average Birmingham citizens reached in their meager pockets to give what they could. Even the artist donated roughly a quarter of his services to a city he had grown to love. On 7 June 1904, Vulcan was christened with a bottle of Cahaba River water and declared the official Alabama exhibit. Over the next six months, he was seen by more than 20 million people from across the globe. Accordingly, one would expect a warm homecoming for Birmingham’s iron man, but this was not to be as hostilities grew over the appropriate location for Vulcan. After Vulcan arrived back in Birmingham in 1905, opposing parties discussed his fate. No one could agree on an appropriate place for him. Some argued that he would clash with the aesthetically pleasing city scape if placed in Capitol Park (modern-day Linn Park), while others reasoned that Red Mountain was the only appropriate location. As a temporary measure, city officials re-erected Vulcan at the Alabama State Fairgrounds in West End. This provisional placement lasted until 1939, when the Kiwanis Club of Birmingham, arguing for the preservation of Vulcan’s dignity, raised the funds to relocate the treasured structure to his rightful home atop Red Mountain. 18 With Vulcan settled on Red Mountain, the community was no longer distracted by the excitement surrounding his relocation. Without this commotion, citizens began noticing that Birmingham’s iron industry was in decline. Thus, the fight for Vulcan became a struggle for the revitalization of Birmingham, which lasted for the next fifty years. By the mid-Twentieth Century,

∗ According to Consumer Price Index reports released by the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics for the years 1903 and 2017. Pressley 6 consternation mounted over Birmingham’s status as a one-industry town, while other U.S. cities of comparable size boasted various forms of commercial enterprise. The iron industry helped establish and sustain the city for quite some time, but city officials and business leaders recognized that the city’s economic survival hinged on its ability to adapt to shifts in industry. Therefore, Birmingham embarked on an industrial metamorphosis beginning in 1940, with the founding of the University of Alabama at Birmingham (“UAB”). Officials at the University of Alabama established UAB to serve as the university’s four-year medical school. However, UAB grappled with securing financial support to stay afloat; accordingly, much of the school’s funding came from federal subsidies through the 1970s. With the outbreak of World War II, Birmingham’s iron industry experienced a resurgence, as mills and foundries produced the materiel essential for sustaining American war efforts abroad. Still, after the War, demand for Birmingham iron plunged once again. Through much of the 1950s and ‘60s, this decline became overshadowed by the ideological divide created by racial politics. The Civil Rights Movement pitted the city’s industrialists against their more progressive counterparts serving in the retail, real estate development, and health sciences sectors. This rift had a negative impact on the region’s ability to attract new investors and commercial activities. Unfortunately, iron and steel executives operated their Birmingham divisions from northern cities, so the upper echelons of these major corporations remained relatively ignorant to impingements upon their production. Furthermore, executives saw little benefit in continuing their pursuits to attract venture capitalists to the Birmingham area. This lack of concern allowed northern business leaders to remain far removed from the effects of Birmingham’s racial politics. Eventually, social upheaval calmed, but this did not keep Birmingham’s economy from stagnating, which occurred until the 1990s. The iron and steel industries waned severely, but some Birmingham companies such as O’Neal Steel, United States Steel Corporation, the Drummond Companies, and American Cast Iron Pipe Company survived industrial droughts and continue their operations. With the dawn of the Twenty-First Century, Birmingham experienced a virtual renaissance. The city’s tourism industry benefits from the establishment of several distinguished museums, most notably The Civil Rights Institute, Birmingham Museum of Art, Southern Museum of Flight, and McWane Science Center. The Birmingham Zoo and Botanical Gardens have become must- see destinations for visitors. For its part, UAB has grown to become Birmingham’s largest employer. Additionally, the university educates some of the brightest medical minds in the world, who serve as visionaries for many of the most remarkable state-of-the-art medical technologies and procedures. As might be expected, iron and steel are no longer the municipality’s chief industries. Instead, not a single iron or steel company ranks in the top twenty employers for Metropolitan Birmingham. Today, the city’s economy is dominated by companies specializing in health sciences, banking, communications, automobile manufacturing, education, and civil services. A recent report released by the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics (“BLS”) asserts that the Birmingham metro area has a greater concentration of professionals in the financial sector than New York, Charlotte, or Atlanta. Moreover, the city’s 43,000 positions in the financial industry pay above the national average.19 Additionally, a movement to protect Birmingham’s heritage has led to the creation of a niche industry based on historic preservation. This has resulted in the renovation and restoration of several Birmingham landmarks, including The Lyric, Carver, and Alabama Theatres, Railroad Park, the First Federal Savings and Loan building, the Redmont Hotel, the City Federal building, the former Pizitz department store, and the city’s beloved Vulcan statue. Pressley 7

By the 1960s, Vulcan began displaying visible signs of deterioration, due in large part to the concrete poured into the core of the statue during its relocation to Red Mountain. Architects used concrete as a means of anchoring Vulcan to his pedestal. What they failed to consider is that concrete has an expansivity that is twenty percent greater than cast iron. Therefore, after three decades, Vulcan started coming apart at his seams. Bolts designed to hold the statue’s twenty-one cast iron plates in position began eroding. This allowed Vulcan’s concrete core to expand dramatically over time. For the next thirty years, city officials commissioned numerous studies by various firms specializing in architecture and iron restoration. Each team of consultants agreed upon the existence of significant deterioration, but varied in their assessments of how to address the problem. Yet, Robinson Iron suggested an extraordinary approach calling for a full-dismantling of the statue to remove the concrete interior, so that the outer portion of the structure could be reinforced. Their experts argued that removing the concrete was the only way to halt spalling indefinitely. Even though city officials were aware of Vulcan’s peril for quite some time, they failed to allocate funds for substantial restorative measures. The city had only enough money earmarked to have Vulcan disassembled without refurbishment. The National Park Service conducted an independent assessment, which substantiated Robinson Iron’s findings and supported its plan of action. In 1999, local officials placed sensors along the cracks in Vulcan’s façade to measure the rate of separation. The information proved that Vulcan’s situation had become critical. 20 Unwilling to wait for the city to take action, a group of influential citizens formed the Vulcan Park Foundation. The foundation’s mission focused on raising the funds needed to save one of Birmingham’s most iconic landmarks. By 2001, enough money had been raised for Robinson Iron to begin the process of restoring Vulcan as closely to his original 1904 design as possible. This was no easy task, as workers obtained paint layer samples, and engineers designed a state-of-the-art armature system to support Vulcan’s internal structure. Other actions included the application of a layer of molten zinc used to protect the structure from oxidation. After three years of exhaustive repair, Robinson Iron returned Vulcan to Red Mountain in time to mark his 100th birthday. Support for Vulcan has transcended generations. Although his role as a city symbol has morphed over the years, his connotation remains the same. However, some continue to raise one question above all others: “Why Vulcan?” The answer to this query is one constructed upon a basic understanding of iconography, which is characterized by the use of visual arts to illustrate the symbolism of a larger theme, concept, or subject matter. In Roman mythology, Vulcan epitomized the common man replete with his soot-covered clothing and smithing tools. He toiled day-in-and- day-out in deplorable conditions as a man of the forge. In this way, he shared a mutual reality with many of the Birmingham District’s blue-collar laborers. For that reason, Vulcan’s creators understood the impact that this similarity would make upon the denizens of Birmingham. Furthermore, Vulcan had the ability to represent Alabama as a whole, Birmingham as a part of that whole, and the people who were responsible for catapulting Birmingham and Alabama into a positions of prestige and prosperity.21 At times throughout Birmingham’s history, advocacy for Vulcan mirrored the unwavering display of civic support for Birmingham by its founders and citizens. In this sense, Vulcan is a metaphor for Birmingham. John T. Milner continued fighting for the establishment of Birmingham, even when the tables turned against him and the outcome looked bleak. His firm resolve paid off. James W. Sloss, Truman H. Aldrich, and Henry F. DeBardeleben refused to capitulate in the face of adversity, which is evident in their ability to bring Birmingham back from Pressley 8 the brink of economic disaster. James A. MacKnight promoted his concept for Vulcan relentlessly and remained undeterred by naysayers and skeptics. His persistence continues to have lasting effect, which can be witnessed by anyone who looks to the top of Red Mountain and sees Vulcan towering triumphantly above the skyline.

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NOTES

1 Jason D. Stratman, “And in Other News: Opening Day at the 1904 World's Fair Overshadows Train Crash,” Missouri History Museum, April 30, 2013, http://staging.historyhappenshere.org/node/7385 (accessed March 28, 2018). 2 T. W. Park, The Opening Ceremonies of the Louisiana Purchase Exposition, St. Louis, U.S.A., April 30th, 1904 (St. Louis: University of Missouri--Columbia. Libraries, 1904), 22, http://cdm.sos.mo.gov/cdm/ref/collection/muellis/id/429 (accessed February 17, 2018). 3 Missouri Historical Society, “Overview of the Fair,” The 1904 World's Fair: Looking Back at Looking Forward, 1997-2004, http://mohistory.org/exhibitsLegacy/Fair/WF/HTML/Overview/ (accessed October 3, 2017). 4 Tim O'Neil, “Look Back 250: World's Fair of 1904 was St. Louis' Biggest Show,” St. Louis Dispatch, August 31, 2014, www.stltoday.com/news/local/state-and-regional/look-back-world-s-fair-of-was-st-louis- biggest/article_42cfb7bc-121d-5aa3-86a2-6df0b4f70da5.html. 5 Missouri Historical Society, “Overview of the Fair,” The 1904 World's Fair: Looking Back at Looking Forward, 1997-2004. 6 Philip A. Morris, Vulcan and His Times (Jefferson County (Ala.): Birmingham Historical Society, 1995), v, http://digital.archives.alabama.gov/cdm/ref/collection/hgpub/id/50763 (accessed October 6, 2017). 7 Marjorie Longnecker White, The Birmingham District: An Industrial History and Guide (Jefferson County (Ala.): Birmingham Historical Society, 1981) 30. 8 James Pickett Jones, Yankee Blitzkreig: Wilson's Raid through Alabama and Georgia (Lexington: University Press of Kentucky, 2000) 75-79. 9 Ibid, 176-179. 10 Ethel Armes and James R. Bennett, The Story of Coal and Iron in Alabama (Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 2011) 187. 11 White, The Birmingham District: An Industrial History and Guide (Jefferson County (Ala.): Birmingham Historical Society, 1981) 33-34. 12 Thomas McAdory Owen and Marie Bankhead Owen, History of Alabama and Dictionary of Alabama Biography, Volume IV (Chicago: S. J. Clarke Publishing Company, 1921), 1207, http://digital.archives.alabama.gov/cdm/ref/collection/dictionary/id/1014 (accessed March 13, 2018). 13 Rob Dixon, "New South Era," Encyclopedia of Alabama, last modified November 21, 2016, http://www.encyclopediaofalabama.org/article/h-2128 (accessed January 18, 2018). 14 W. David Lewis, Sloss Furnaces and the Rise of the Birmingham District: An Industrial Epic (Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 1994), 56-59, https://ezproxy.montevallo.edu/login?url=http://search.ebscohost.com/login.aspx?direct=true&db=nlebk (accessed September 18, 2017). 15 W. David Lewis, “Sloss Furnaces,” The Encyclopedia of Alabama, last modified April 17, 2017, http://www.encyclopediaofalabama.org/article/h-1818 (accessed April 13, 2018). 16 James Sanders Day, “Truman Aldrich,” The Encyclopedia of Alabama, last modified July 7, 2015, www.encyclopediaofalabama.org/article/h-3674. 17 James Sanders Day, “Henry DeBardeleben,” The Encyclopedia of Alabama, last modified December 17, 2015, www.encyclopediaofalabama.org/article/h-3675.

18 Morris, Vulcan and His Times (Jefferson County (Ala.): Birmingham Historical Society, 1995), 1-32, http://digital.archives.alabama.gov/cdm/ref/collection/hgpub/id/50763 (accessed October 6, 2017). Pressley 10

19 Charles Davidson, “Birmingham: A Powerful History Forged from Iron,” The Federal Reserve Bank of Atlanta, April 26, 2017, https://www.frbatlanta.org/economy-matters/2017/04/26/birmingham-a-powerful-history-forged- from-iron (accessed January 17, 2018). 20 Bringing Back the Magic: Restoring Giuseppe Moretti’s Vulcan Birmingham, Alabama (Alexander City (Ala.): Robinson Iron, Winter 2010), https://www.robinsoniron.com/OldSite/newsletters/pages/newsletter_winter_10.html (accessed February 10, 2018). 21 Morris, Vulcan and His Times (Jefferson County (Ala.): Birmingham Historical Society, 1995), v-vi, http://digital.archives.alabama.gov/cdm/ref/collection/hgpub/id/50763 (accessed October 6, 2017).