Probably the falls he pictured are the three largest - Lodore (40 feet)
Tempesta (89 feet) and Hurricane (76 feet). Others were Oceana (50
feet), Bridal Veil (17 feet) and Sweet Sixteen (16 feet). Lodore is a
Georgia translation of the French L’Eau d’or, or “golden waters”. The
fall is said to have “sparkled like gold”.
The series of falls, created over eons as the river cut through a half-mile circular
hardrock formation to join the Tugaloo, was first discovered by white
men in the late 1700's. At the time of Cooke's picture, visitors
climbed a rough mountain trail to view the spectacle. The crash of the
waters drowned out normal conversation and a mist rising from the
falling water softened the vista of high rock walls and wind-twisted
evergreens.
In 1882, after the Tallulah Falls Railroad began
making a daily round trip from Cornelia, the resort era began. Large
frame hotels with long, wide verandas and fires in the great rooms at
night welcomed the cream of Southern society, which stopped there every
summer from June 1 to the last of September.
Some inns overlooked the falls, and all were within hearing distance. The roar of
the great waters was a constant backdrop everywhere in the bustling
community on the rim of the gorge. Then, in 1911, Georgia Power began
buying water rights and planning a series of dams and power plants to
serve the city of Atlanta's growing need.
That same year, Congress passed a bill appropriating $10 million to create national
parts in the Appalachian Mountains. The Atlanta Constitution predicted
this would save Tallulah Falls, but instead the power company began
building a dam across the river bed at the head of the gorge.
By 1914, the roaring waters had been diverted through a 6,600 foot tunnel
cut through solid rock which carried the water to a surge tank from
which it passed to wheels in the power house at the bottom of the gorge.
Today, springs feed into the former river bed and follow the course or the
falls, providing a polite and dainty murmur where once mighty waters
roared.
Many people think this relatively tiny trickle of water
carved the awesome gorge. But Cooke's painting in the Georgia Museum of
Art’s American Collection reminds us that is not so.
How Tallulah Lost Its Falls
