1870 THE PHOTOGRAPHIC NEWS
Vol. XIV
ver: June 13, 2008
START:
NOTES:
--Italics have been retained from publications, which use them for both titles as well as emphasis. To more easily locate image titles, I have continued this italicization when titles have been rendered in all capitols or put in quotes, however italics have NOT been used when the general subject of an image is mentioned.
--Spelling and typos: Nineteenth-century spellings occasionally differs from currently accepted norms. In addition, British spellings also differ from American usage. Common examples are: “colour” vs. “color”; “centre” vs. “center’” the use of “s” for “z” as in “recognise” vs. “recognize; and the use of one “l” instead of “ll” as in “fulfilment”. While great care has been exercised in transcribing the 19th-century journals exactly as printed, “spell check” automatically corrects many of these differences. An attempt has been made to recorrect these automatic changes, but no doubt some have slipped through. As for typographical errors, these have been checked although no doubt some have managed to slip through the editorial process. For matters of consequence, I will be happy to recheck the original sources if need be for specific references.
--Image numbers listed in articles can be either an entry number in an exhibition, or the photographer’s own image number as found on labels.
--All names have been bolded for easy location. Numbers frequently refer to the photographer’s image number, but can also refer to a number in a catalog for a show. Decide whether to bold or not if can tell.
--It is not always possible in lists of photographers to know when two separate photographers are partners or not, e.g., in a list, “Smith and Jones” sometimes alludes to two separate photographers and sometimes to one photographic company. Both names will be highlighted and indexed but a partnership may be wrongly assumed. Any information to the contrary would be appreciated.
-- Brackets [ ] are used to indicate supplied comments by the transcriber; parenthesis
( ) are used in the original sources. If the original source has used brackets, they have been transcribed as parenthesis to avoid confusion.
--“illus” means that I have the view mentioned and should be scanned and included.
--Articles by photographers about technical matters – when transcribed, only names and titles have been listed. If other names are associated with the paper they are listed as well.
--Meetings of Societies – Names of officers, members attending or referenced, dates and locations of meetings have been given. If the reports are very short or discuss photographs, then the articles have been copied; if administrative or technical in nature, they have not.
--“[Selection]” = This has been used when not all portions of a feature are copied, such as The Photographic News’ “Talk In The Studio”. If the word does not appear, then the entire feature was transcribed.
-- Some journals, e.g., The Art-Journal, cover both photographer and painting/drawing. As they frequently refer to the production of both the photographer and the painter as “pictures” it is not always possible to tell when photography is indicated. If there is doubt, it will be included but a note will be added stating that the names listed may in fact not be photographers.
--Mostly articles totally discussing technical aspects of photography, products, etc. are not transcribed unless they are part of a larger article covering photographs. When technical descriptions are too lengthy to transcribe that is noted.
--Cultural sensitivity – these are direct transcriptions of texts written in the 19th-century and reflect social comments being made at that time. Allowances must be made when reading some texts, particularly those dealing with other cultures.
1870: P News, July 29, vol. XIV, #621, p. 356-358:
The Camera Among the Icebergs. By J. L. Dunmmore * (*Philadelphia Photographer)
Having just returned from a photographic trip among the icebergs, probably a few notes of the trip may interest your readers, and I jot them down.
The expedition was arranged by Mr. Wm. Bradford, the artist, accompanied by Dr. I. I. Hayes. It was my second trip to the regions of ice, so I knew somewhat beforehand of the hardships that had to be endured and the difficulties to be met with.
We left Boston June 13th, and, arriving in New York, found one box of chemicals broken. We replaced them, and left for Halifax on the 15th. After a splendid passage we arrived there on the 17th. I found two boxes of glass broken (about one hundred sheets). I travelled all over Halifax to find some more glass, and the only place I could find any was at a hardware store, and that was of a very poor quality. I went to Mr. Chase, the photographer there, who was very accommodating, and assisted me in albuminizing my glass. Started the next day for St. John’s, N.F., rather discouraged, but in hopes that a bad beginning would make good ending. We arrived at St. John’s on the 21st. Nothing of importance occurred on the trip. We expected to find our steamer waiting there for us, and were much disappointed to find that she had gone to Sydney for coal, for we had to wait in that dead-and-alive place a week before she returned. To pass away the time, I made some twenty-five or thirty views of very beautiful scenery thereabouts.
The steamer arrived and we went aboard the 28th. We set a carpenter to work building a dark-closet. it was fifteen feet long by six feet wide, with all the modern improvements. Our steamer (the Panther) was of three hundred and fifty tons burden, and was built very strong, on purpose for the ice, and was used for seal fishing in the spring. The passengers and crew consisted of about thirty, the jolliest crowd that ever sailed for Greenland.
We left St. John’s on the 3rd of July, and were very glad to get off. The 4th was a very unpleasant day, foggy, and a very heavy sea running; all hands a little sea-sick; could eat but little breakfast, and did not feel like celebrating much; was not at all patriotic; the foreign water had a bad effect on us. Had bad weather for a week. On July 10th we made the Greenland coast, a place called Cape Desolation. We went ashore, and found the place was rightly named, for there was not a living being on it—nothing but rocks and icebergs to be seen. We intended to leave the next day, but it blew a gale, and we had to lay there four or five days. All hands began to get home sick. We made a few pictures in the rain.
It cleared up on the 15th, and we sailed for Julianshaab, one of the largest places in South Greenland. The natives were all scared when we blew off steam, having never seen a steamer before. In the morning we went ashore and called on the Governor, who entertained us with a little whiskey and cigars. In the afternoon we made some pictures of the Governor and his family, and some views of the Esquimaux huts. The next morning, about four o’clock, we went about twenty miles in a boat (which they call oomiack), paddled by six Esquimaux girls, who were all dressed in seal-0skin suits. We took a picture of a cathedral built nine hundred years ago by the Northmen. Did not get back until two o’clock the next morning, almost eaten up with flies and mosquitos. We sailed again for a place called Kaksimuet, about a hundred miles farther north. In the evening we went on shore to the house of the Governor, who was a jolly old fellow with twenty-two children. He celebrated our arrival with a dance, and entertained us in good shape. The next day we sailed about sixty miles to the mouth of a glacier, where the icebergs break off, to take some views’ worked all the forenoon; went on board to dinner; after dinner went back again, and had quite a narrow escape. Just as we were landing, a large berg broke off, which sent the water up twenty feet all over us, and washed away collodion, developing glass, green baize, &c., and came very near taking us along with them. As good luck would have it, our camera and tent were up high and dry on the hill. We had to go on board and change our clothes, and the captain did not think it was safe to stop there any longer, so we got up anchor and steamed across the fiord two and a-half miles, into a snug harbour. We had not been there more than half a hour when a large berg, two hundred feet high, broke off, which sent the water up forty feet, and if we had been in the old place the steamer would have gone up twenty feet on the rocks.
The glacier comes moving slowly down from the mountains, a great river of ice, thousands of feet deep, sometimes ten miles wide, to the fiord or bay at the foot of the mountain. The alpine glaciers roll down into the warm valleys, and there, warmed by the sun, melt away like a piece of wax before a candle, and form brooks and rivers. But in Greenland, they cannot do that; it is too cold. Therefore, as the ice at the mouth of the glacier is pushed forward to the water’s edge, it must break off in pieces and fall in; and such pieces are icebergs. When they break off, the glacier is said by the natives to “calve,” or “an iceberg is born.”
I can give you no idea of what a beautiful sight it is to see an iceberg break off; but we, who have seen it, will never forget it. Think of a mass of ice as big as the space of ground covered by the City of Boston, falling into the sea, and of the tremendous crash that occurs when it breaks away from its fellows, and they gave it a parting salute as they groan and growl their last farewell Now see the waves leap up forty feet into the air, washing and lashing the glacier with spray, and sweeping everything away not strong enough to bear the shock; then watch the new-born berg as it rocks in the sea like a huge porpoise, up and down, dropping here and there portions of itself, which dive down and reappear in all directions, and you can imagine faintly what it is to see a glacier “calve an iceberg.” It is a long time before the trouble of the waters ends, or before the new-born babe ceases to be rocked, and is still enough to have its picture made. It is a sight one never tires of.
The next day our party started to go on top of the glacier. it was very hard to get on to with our cooking utensils and photographic traps; it was so very steep. We travelled six miles on top of it. The sight was grand from there. it was about two miles wide, and the length of it we could not tell, as it was hundreds of miles. The depth of it was from five hundred to eight hundred feet. We made a few pictures, ate our dinner up there, and then started back. We sailed the next day for Ivigtut, where the kryolite mines are. Kryolite, as you know, is a mineral which is now largely used in the manufacture of hot cast porcelain glass, for porcelain photographs, and burnt-in pictures, and which, I am told, will soon be introduced into the market. This is the only place in the world where the mineral is found, I believe. It imparts a whiteness and hardness to the glass unequalled by anything else, and can be had in worked sheets sixty inches square. We visited the mines, and intended to make some pictures, but it rained for two days, so we started for Upernavik (which means “Summerplace”) about eight hundred miles farther north, and the most northern settlement in Greenland where there are any white people. We steamed at half speed on account of the fog, as there was danger of running into the icebergs. We crossed the Arctic Circle July 31st. We sailed along for a few days, and made instantaneous pictures of icebergs. August 3rd we lowered a boat, went ashore, and shot about fifty ducks. The 4th, the sun shone forth for twenty-four hours for the first time. We stopped at a place called “Sanderson’s Hope,” and made a picture of a mountain 4,500 feet high. We also collected a quantity of duck’s eggs. We arrived at Upernavik on the 6th, a place of about two hundred and fifty inhabitants; went to a dance in the evening in a cooper’s shop. The principal amusement there is dancing, and the principal smell is seal, which smell I smell yet. It was no cold your watch-chain would scorch your fingers. The next day we sailed for Melville Bay. We stopped at a place called “Tarseusak,” and took a picture of a house, which is the farthest house north in the world. It was taken at twelve o’clock last night, and cloudy at that. Arrived at Melville Bay about three o’clock in the morning of the 10th; went on deck, and could see nothing but ice; presently we discovered three bears; we steamed towards them through ice about two feet thick as far as we could, when they came towards us, and we shot them all. About seven o’clock we saw three more; all hands were anxious for a shot, but I told them to let me shoot first with the camera, which I did, and got two very good negatives of them from the topgallant forecastle. Walking on the ice presently, they came nearer, and all hands shot and killed them. We saw two more in the afternoon, but could not get them. We were packed in the ice all the next day, and could not get out. The ice made about two and a-half inches at night. I made some pictures on the ice, but with poor success, owing to so much reflected light. I could not use my bath stronger than eighteen grains. I made negatives 14 by 18, with a view-tube, smallest opening, in two seconds. The next day the wind changed and broke the ice up. That night we moored alongside of an iceberg. It snowed all night. We worked all the next day making some views of icebergs, and at night took the midnight sun—three negatives—at ten, eleven, and twelve o’clock. The next day we got high and dry on the ice, and had to stay there two days. We began to think we should have to winter there, for all we could see, for miles and miles, was solid ice. This was in latitude 75º. We wanted to get through Melville Bay, and so farther north to Smith’s Sound, but had to give it up.
August 19th we started south. It snowed all night and froze hard, and we began to think it was time to be home. On our way back we stopped at Upernavik for a week. I made some pictures of the natives and their huts, sledges, dogs, &c. When we went to gut up anchor to leave, we found an iceberg grounded on it. It took about four hours to get clear of it. We sailed down the coast to Jacobshaven, where there is a very large glacier, but could not get to it, owing to there being so many icebergs in the fiord. We could not get within ten miles of it, even with a small boat, so I made some negatives of the icebergs there, and the next day we started for Disco, and made some views of some high cliffs, and of a whaler that was wrecked there. That finished my photographing in Greenland. I made between three and four hundred negatives.
September 16th was pleasant, and we worked all day packing and securing things for sea. All hands were in good spirits with the thoughts of going home. Went on shore in the evening to have the last dance and to say farewell.
September 17th we left for home. The Governor fired six cannons when we left. We arrived in Battle Harbour, on the Labrador coast, September 23rd; found some newspapers there, a thing we had not seen for three months. We left the next day; arrived in St. John’s September 26th, and, in a fortnight from that time, we were at home, safe and well.
My great trouble, while away, was reflected light. Everything worked flat, and I could not force the negatives up; the stronger the bath the flatter the negative.
My friend, Mr. Critcherson, of Worcester, was with me, and I suppose no one ever photographer farther north or in colder weather than we did; but we were well repaid. You shall see prints from our best negatives soon.