The Evolution of Photography

The pictures exhibited by Mr. Briggs, of Leamington, though extremely forcible and beautiful, were not exactly an imitation of the style of M. Salomon.

Mr. Leake, of Cornhill, had a frame containing six very capital portraits in the style of the eminent French photographer, but a little overdone in after-touching—too much elaborated. In this respect he far outdid his great prototype. Messrs. Fradelle and Leach also exhibited a number of whole-plate pictures à la Salomon, which were very good indeed. Messrs. Slingsby, Burgess, Ashdown, Dunmore, and S. Fry, were also exhibitors of the same style of portraits, 10 by 8 size; but it is a pity the latter did himself the injustice of exhibiting so many, for there was only one—an old gentleman with a grey beard—that was really worthy of him. Never did any man’s joke recoil more forcibly on himself than that of Mr. Fry’s. The faces of some of his female portraits—one in particular—were, in my estimation, as flat, white, and shadowless as a piece or knob of sal-ammoniac itself; but I must say that the portrait of the gentleman above referred to was all that could be desired as an artistic photograph.

Amongst the cabinet pictures exhibited by English photographers, I think those by Mr. Hubbard were decidedly the finest. One entitled “The Toilet,” and another of a lady seated at a window, which might be named “A Sultry Day in Town,” are charmingly artistic photographs. A composition picture by the same artist was also very skilfully treated; indeed, it was mistaken by many to be a copy of a picture, and might easily have been taken for a copy of a painting by T. Faed. Mr. Briggs, Mr. Godbold (of Hastings), Mr. Gillo, Messrs. Lucas and Box, also exhibited some beautiful cabinet pictures.

Cartes-de-visite in their ordinary form were somewhat scarce, but Dr. Wallich, Mr. Charles Heath, Mr. Bateman, and others, made a good show of vignettes.

Mrs. Cameron exhibited some large pictures in her peculiar style; but my own opinion and that of others was, that she is improving.

Mr. Ernest Edwards exhibited a large collection of carbon pictures, in black and other colours; some mounted on chromo-tinted paper, and some excellent enlargements in carbon. The Autotype Company exhibited a fine copy of Lord Belhaven, which I noticed some time ago; also a very valuable and beautiful collection of copies from drawings by old masters, all bound together, making a handsome and very interesting collection.

Mr. Rejlander had a large collection of his art photographs on view, all of which were clever, some facetious, and many very beautiful conceptions.

A frame of coloured enamels by Mr. Bailey, and some in black-and-white by Mr. Henderson and Mr. Barnes, also attracted considerable notice.

The eburneumtypes by Mr. Burgess, a coloured collodio-chloride portrait on ivory by Mr. J. Edwards, and other collodio-chloride and opalotype pictures, were very much admired. The cabinet vignettes by Reutlinger, and the cabinet pictures by Wenderoth, were both in request at the table, on account of their beauty and interest.

I must not forget to mention a very interesting series of twenty-four stereoscopic pictures by Mr. Alfieri, illustrative of “The Potter’s Art.”

Mr. Jabez Hughes and Mr. Meagher were both exhibitors of very excellent and useful apparatus—cameras, camera-stands, and rolling-presses.

Now I think such an exhibition as I have but partially described cannot fail to have produced a pleasing and beneficial effect on the minds of all who saw it, and ought, on the whole, to have given infinite pleasure and satisfaction to both exhibitors and visitors. Yet I think I heard one or two growls of discontent about the hanging from someone whose pictures or whose friend’s pictures were not on the line; but I think I may safely say there never was a case of hanging yet that was not objected to by one individual at least. Even the hangers of the Royal Academy do not escape censure, and they are supposed to have far more skill, taste, and experience in hanging than the volunteer hangers of the late photographic exhibition. I think, however, that the hangers performed their duties both conscientiously and creditably, especially when it is considered in how very short a time the work had to be done. Anyone who felt aggrieved, and expressed himself churlishly on that point, must surely have been in that unenviable state which the French very adroitly designate Etre marqué au B.

After these reflections I felt too drowsy to reflect any more, and was barely awake enough to subscribe myself—Yours very truly.

November 10th, 1868.

The Refunding of the Balance of the Goddard Fund—The Photographers’ Provident Society—A Ferocious Doorsman—The South London Dinner—A Christmas Carol

My Dear Sir,—Now that the balance of the Goddard Fund is returned to the contributors, and all the trials and vexations the administration of the fund brought upon the chief promoters are known, I think the very best thanks of the whole body of subscribers to that fund are due to the committee for their firm and sensible determination to provide for the wants of the poor imbecile recipient in the manner they did, and for their withstanding the attempt made by a person who was not in the least related to the late Mr. Goddard to obtain possession of the balance in hand. I, for one, a subscriber to the fund, return them my most hearty acknowledgments, not for the money returned to me, but for the straightforwardness of their report, and the wise and judicious manner in which they dispensed the funds. While congratulating myself and confrères on seeing the money not required for the relief of the late Mr. Goddard returned to the subscribers instead of going into the possession of a person for whom it never was intended, I think it is to be regretted that no responsible party had foreseen that much of this returned money would have been gladly placed to the credit of some benevolent or provident institution connected with photography. The whole amount, or even the half of it, would have made a very handsome nucleus for the commencement of such a fund. I have heard several wishes to that effect expressed during the last few days. Doubtless the committee did the very best thing they could have done for their own credit and the entire satisfaction of the whole of the subscribers; but I am afraid an opportunity has been lost in the interest of the incipient relief fund by not having had a receiver for these stray and unexpected sums appointed. The praiseworthy act of Messrs. Ross and Pringle, as noticed in another journal, confirms this impression.

While the subject of a photographers’ provident or relief fund is before me, I may mention that in the Report of the Friendly Societies recently issued by Mr. Tidd Pratt, he speaks in the highest terms of those societies which are managed by the members themselves without salaries, and condemns the extravagance exhibited by the societies of a similar nature which are conducted by salaried officials. Now, as it is a friendly society pure and simple that sick or needy photographers ought to look to for future help, in my opinion the former is the kind of society that should be established. The movement is not to be started as a business speculation, and there should be no salaries attached to any of the offices. Each member joining the provident society should be prepared to submit to the tax on his time and energies, if elected to office, as part and parcel of the amount he subscribes for the general welfare of the body and relief of individual members. For my part, I object to the contemplated society taking the form of a relief fund depending upon donations, collections at dinners, &c., for its support. Such means for raising the necessary funds to start the society may be allowable; but after it is commenced, every individual connected with it should be a subscribing member, and not allowed to receive any benefit, except under the most urgent necessities, until he has paid a certain number of subscriptions.

During one of my peregrinations about town lately I stumbled upon a very ferocious doorsman. My attention was suddenly arrested, while passing one of those photographic establishments which keep a kind of two-legged hyena prowling up and down before their doors, by hearing the somewhat startling and cannibalistic exclamation of “I‘ll eat yer!” Looking round, I saw that one of those prowling bipeds had fastened upon two quiet-looking young gentlemen, evidently strangers in town and to town ways, and had so importuned them to sit for “a correct likeness,” until they turned upon him, and threatened to give him in charge if he did not desist; when he retaliated by threatening to eat them, and used a great deal of sanguinary and abusive language as a substitute for more palatable suavity. Is such an “outsider” or hanger-on a fit and proper person to join a photographers’ provident society, or be the recipient of a benevolent relief fund?

The South London Photographic Society’s annual dinner came off on Saturday evening last at the “Salutation Tavern,” Newgate Street. Twenty-three members and friends, all told, sat down to dinner, and enjoyed a thoroughly English repast. After the cloth was removed, the pleasantest part of the evening commenced. The worthy and honoured president, the Rev. F. F. Statham, M.A., who occupied the chair, was all geniality, and gave the toast of the evening—“The South London Photographic Society”—in his usually felicitous style. To Mr. Jabez Hughes was allotted the task of proposing the next important toast—“Photography”—which he did in the most glowing and eloquent terms, dwelling on the rise and progress of the art in England, its position in a competitive point of view at the Paris Exhibition, interspersed with some racy and facetious remarks on the different modes and kinds of rewards, from the bronze, silver, and gold medals, to the paper certificates, which he considered the most honourable mentions that could be given by a discerning public. From that he soared into the higher aspirations of photographers and sublime regions of photography, giving, with thrilling effect, a description of the social joys, scientific pursuits, and human ameliorations to which photography administers. Mr. Baynham Jones, being the oldest photographer present, had the honour of replying on behalf of the art. Mr. G. Wharton Simpson, in very appropriate terms, gave the toast, “Art Photography,” which was responded to by Mr. O. G. Rejlander. Mr. Johnson, of the Autotype Company, had the honour of proposing the toast “Professional Photography,” which was responded to by Mr. Valentine Blanchard, who occupied the vice-chair. Other toasts of a professional and semi-professional character were given and responded to. The intervals were filled up with part and instrumental music by members of the Society. Mr. Cooper contributed greatly to the evening’s enjoyment by giving two charming performances on the cornet-a-piston, which were admirably accompanied by Mr. Henry Cooper on the piano. Taking it all in all, it was one of the pleasantest and merriest evenings I have ever enjoyed at the convivial meetings of the South London Photographic Society, and formed a delightful introduction to the season of universal festivity which is close at hand.

Christmas, all over the civilized world, is not only a period of festive reunion, but, according to the only rational interpretation of the word, a time of good will towards men, and peace upon earth. Photographers, like other men, have had their little differences of opinion, which have produced partial estrangements during a portion of the year which will so soon expire; but let the approaching season, which is held in commemoration of the birth of the greatest Peacemaker that ever came among men, be looked upon by all as the fittest time to forget and forgive all slights, injuries, or insults, real or imaginary; and let not the great festival of our common faith be clouded or eclipsed by an angry thought, nor the immeasurable charity of true Christianity be dimmed by one unforgiving feeling. The light of the Christian faith is a light that should penetrate to the dark cells of our hearts, and dispel all the gloomy and corrosive accumulations of controversy that may have lodged there, and unconsciously eaten away any part of our better nature. Few of us—none but the most presumptuous—can lay his hand upon his heart and say, “Mine is immaculate!” None of us are without sin, and charity and forgiveness are the greatest of the Christian virtues; and they should be the more carefully studied and practised by all who live in and by the Light of the world.

December 15th, 1868.

PHOTOGRAPHY AND THE IMMURED POMPEIIANS

Every one must be sensible of the many and varied applications of photography. Even photographers themselves, familiar as they are with the capabilities of the art they practise, must necessarily have their wonder excited occasionally at the scope of their art-science, especially when they consider that the process, as practised at the present day, is not more than seventeen years old. That it should be the historian of the life and manners of the present period more fully and faithfully than any written account, is not so much a matter of surprise. Appealing, as it does, to the vanity and affections of the people, it is at once a recorder of the changes of fashion, a registrar of marriages, births, and deaths, and a truthful illustrator of the times in which we live; but that it should be brought to bear upon the past, and make the inhabitants of the world in the nineteenth century familiar with the forms, fashions, manners, life, and death of the people of the first century of the Christian Era, is something to be marvelled at, and at first seems an impossibility. Yet such is the fact; and photography has been made the cheap and easy means of informing the present generation of the manner in which the ancients behaved, suffered, and died in the midst of one of the most appalling catastrophes that ever overtook the inhabitants of any part of the world, ancient or modern, as vividly and undeniably as if the calamity had occurred but yesterday.

The foregoing reflections were excited by seeing very recently some photographs from plaster casts of the forms of human beings as they had fallen and died when Pompeii and Herculaneum were destroyed by the first known and terrible eruption of Mount Vesuvius. The photographs alluded to reveal with a fearful fidelity the dreadful agonies of some of those who perished at Pompeii, and, while looking at the pictures, it is very difficult to divest the mind of the idea that they are not the works of some ancient photographer who plied his lens and camera immediately after the eruption had ceased, so forcibly do they carry the mind back to the time and place of the awful immurement of both a town and its people.

That these photographs were not obtained from the lifeless forms of the Pompeiians the reader will readily understand, for their bodies have not been preserved entire from that day to this. The question then naturally arises, “How could plaster casts be obtained from which the photographs were produced?” To answer that question I must briefly explain that Pompeii was not, as is generally understood, destroyed by an overflow of red hot lava, which would have burnt up every particle of human flesh with which it came in contact almost instantly, without leaving a mould or impress of the form which it surrounded. The black mud which flowed from Vesuvius into the doomed town of Pompeii entombed the houses and inhabitants—covered them up and formed a thick crust over them, which gradually hardened, and as the bodies crumbled away to dust a mould or matrix was left, from which plaster casts of great beauty and finish might have been obtained of almost everything that was destroyed. Unfortunately, this was not discovered until very recently, after many of the beautiful moulds had been destroyed by the process of hurried, thoughtless, and unsystematic excavation. It was only a short time ago, since Naples was united to Italy, that careful and intelligent excavation secured to future generations impressions from those matrices made by the most terrible process of natural mould making.

Sig. Fiorelli, who was appointed superintendent of excavations at Pompeii, happily thought of obtaining casts from these natural moulds by pouring in soft plaster of Paris, and thus secure more useful mementos than by preserving the moulds themselves. Amongst the first casts thus obtained were the forms of four human beings, described as follows in the Quarterly Review for 1864:—

“These four persons had perished in the streets. Driven from their homes, they sought to flee when it was too late. These victims of the eruption were not found together, and they do not appear to have belonged to the same family or household. The most interesting of the casts is that of two women, probably mother and daughter, lying feet to feet; they appear from their garb to have been people of poor condition. The elder seems to lie tranquilly on her side, overcome by the noxious gases. She probably fell and died without a struggle. Her limbs are extended, and her left arm drops loosely. On one finger is still seen her coarse iron ring. Her child was a girl of fifteen; she seems, poor thing, to have struggled hard for life. Her legs are drawn up convulsively. Her little hands are clenched in agony. In one she holds her veil, or part of her dress with which she had covered her head, burying her face in her arms to shield herself from the falling ashes and from the foul, sulphurous smoke. The form of her head is perfectly preserved. The texture of her coarse linen garments may be traced, and even the fashion of her dress, with its long sleeves reaching to her wrists. Here and there it is torn, and the smooth young skin appears in the plaster like polished marble. On her tiny feet may still be seen her embroidered sandals. At some distance from this group lay a third woman, apparently about the age of twenty-five, and belonging to a better class. Silver rings were on her fingers. She lay on her side, and had died in great agony. Her garments had been gathered up on one side, leaving exposed a limb of the most beautiful form. She had fled with her little treasure, two silver cups, a few jewels, and some silver coins, and her keys, like a careful matron. The fourth cast is that of a man of the people, perhaps a common soldier. He is almost of colossal size. He lies on his back, his arms extended by his side, and his feet stretched out, as if, finding escape impossible, he had laid himself down to meet death like a brave man. His dress consists of a short coat or jerkin, and tight-fitting breeches of some coarse stuff, perhaps leather; heavy sandals, with soles studded with nails, are laced tightly round his ankles. On one finger is seen his iron ring. His features are strongly marked, his mouth open, as in death. Some of his teeth still remain, and even part of the moustache adheres to the plaster.”

Such is the description of the plaster casts; and the photographs which I possess of those casts convey to the mind at one glance all that is there written. Wonderful photography! How eloquent in their silence are thy pictures! To what more dignified and sublime uses could any art be put? Only a few can look upon those casts of the dead Pompeiians in the Museum of Naples, but the whole world may view the photographs taken from them, and look upon the Pompeiians in their forms and habits as they died, and read a page from the unwritten histories of those terrible death-struggles, when the strong man, the tender, placid mother, and the young and delicate maiden were all entombed in that fearful sea of mud, amidst darkness and horrors that can never be adequately described.

Such an awful catastrophe will never cease to interest the student of ancient history, and photography will now be the means of deepening his interest, and revealing to his mind with greater force and lucidity many scenes that actually occurred at the very moment of the appalling destruction of Pompeii, on the 24th of August, A.D. 79.

A SIMPLE MODE OF INTENSIFYING NEGATIVES

Undoubtedly the best possible practice of photography is that which requires no after intensification in the production of a first-class negative. This, however, though a “consummation devoutly to be wished,” is not always attained, even by the most experienced photographer. Every operator knows that there is sometimes a condition of things that renders a simple and efficient process of intensifying afterwards indispensable.

Of all the modes of intensifying—and their name is legion—I think the readiest and most generally useful has been much neglected. The persulphate of uranium and ferridcyanide of potassium process gave wonderfully charming results. But what of that? It was completely impracticable, and a failure, in consequence of its tendency to go on increasing in intensity in the hands of the printer.

The bichloride of mercury and iodine processes, unlimited in number, also went on increasing in an unlimited degree, and no amount of “roasting” could reduce the negatives so treated to the desirable degree of transparency that would enable any printer to obtain good impressions. There is, however, one of the bichloride of mercury processes, published some years ago, which I modified so as to give the most satisfactory results. It rendered the negative sufficiently intense, and preserved the most exquisite modelling, without changing afterwards; but the process was very troublesome, and not very agreeable.

The simplest, cheapest, and most reliable process of intensifying negatives that I know of is with sulphuret of potassium (liver of sulphur) used in the following manner:—

Make a very dilute solution of sulphuret of potassium, put it into any old gutta-percha or porcelain bath; and, after the negative is developed as far as is desirable with the ordinary iron developer, fixed, and washed in the usual way, immerse the plate in that state at once into the solution of sulphuret of potassium, in the same manner as in sensitising the plate in the nitrate bath, by using a dipper, and leave it there until sufficiently intense, which is generally in about the time required for coating and sensitising another plate, so that, if the operator be working single-handed, very little, if any, time is lost in the process of intensifying.

The solution may also be flooded over the plate in the same manner as the developer, after fixing and washing as before.

When sufficiently intense, rinse the plate with water, dry, and varnish in the ordinary way. But it is best to use the intensifier in the manner first described, which is by far the most cleanly and economical plan, both in the saving of time and solution. By using it with the “bath and dipper,” it is not offensive, on account of its extreme dilution, and not being disturbed so much, or immediately under the olfactory nerves of the operator, it may be worked in the ordinary dark room with the greatest safety and convenience.

A STRING OF OLD BEADS

He is a rash man who announces “something new” in these days. I believe there is nothing new under the sun, and in photography especially. If any man be rash enough to rush into print with what he considers a new idea, some other man rushes into print also and says the idea is old, exploded, useless, worthless, or worse.

I lay no claim to originality. I have lived so long in the atmosphere of photography, I don’t know where or how I picked up my knowledge—such as it is. Some of it I may have stumbled on, some of it I may have found, and some of it I may have stolen. If the latter, I forget from whom, when, or where, and in all such cases a bad memory is a good and convenient thing. But I will endeavour to atone for such sins by publicly restoring all I may have filched from other men’s brains for the benefit of all whom it may concern. I shall not count the beads; that would be like running over a rosary, and I object to sub rosa revelations; neither shall I attend to the order of stringing the beads, but will put them on record just as they come to hand; and the first is—

How to Make Vignette Papers.—Take a piece of sensitised paper, lay it under a piece of glass and let it blacken. Then take a camels’-hair pencil dipped in a weak solution of cyanide of potassium, and paint the extreme size and shape of the desired aperture. Let it dry, and with a little stronger solution of cyanide paint within the size and shape, and then with a stronger solution paint the centre, which will be perfectly white and semi-transparent. The object of using the three strengths of solution and painting three separate times is to obtain gradation, and the edges will be yellow and softened like a vignette glass. These vignette papers can be attached to the back of the negative or to the outside of the printing-press, and can be used either in shade or sunshine without materially prolonging the time of printing. The cost of production is trifling, as any waste piece of paper and spare time can be employed in making them, and they do not occupy much time in making; in fact, one can be made in less time than will be spent in reading this description. I need not expatiate on the advantages of being able to make a special vignette quickly. Every photographer must have experienced the difficulty of purchasing a special size and shape to suit a particular subject.