The Evolution of Photography Part 14

About two and a half miles above Manhattan Island, on the east bank of the Hudson, I noticed a castellated building of considerable pretensions, but somewhat resembling one of those stage scenes of Dunsinane in _Macbeth_, or the Castle of Ravenswood in the _Bride of Lammermoor_. On enquiring to whom this fortified-looking residence belonged, I was told it was Fort Hill, the retreat of Edwin Forest, the celebrated American tragedian. It is built of blue granite, and must have been a costly fancy.

Now we come to the pretty village of Yonkers, where there are plenty of subjects for the camera, on Sawmill River, and the hills behind the village. Here, off Yonkers, in 1609, Henry Hudson came to the premature conclusion, from the strong tidal current, that he had discovered the north-west pa.s.sage, which was the primary object of his voyage, and which led to the discovery of the river which now bears his name.

At Dobb's Ferry there is not much to our liking; but pa.s.sing that, and before reaching Tarrytown, we are within the charming atmosphere of Sunnyside, where Washington Irving lived and wrote many of his delightful works. Tarrytown is the next place we make, and here, during the war for independence, the enthusiastic but unfortunate soldier, Major Andre, was captured; and at Tappan, nearly opposite, he was hung as a spy on the 2nd of October, 1780.

All the world knows the unfortunate connection between Benedict Arnold, the American traitor, and Major Andre, the frank, gallant, and enterprising British officer; so I shall leave those subjects to the students of history, and pa.s.s on as fast as our boat will carry us to the next place of note on the east bank of the river, Sing Sing, which is the New York State prison, where the refractory and not over honest members of State society are sent to be "operated" upon by the salutary treatment of confinement and employment. Some of them are "doing time"

in _dark rooms_, which are very unsuitable for photographic operations, and where _a little more light_, no matter how yellow or non-actinic, would be gladly received. The "silent cell" system is not practised so much in this State as in some of the others; but the authorities do their best to _improve the negative_ or refractory character of the _subjects_ placed under their care. It is, however, very questionable whether their efforts are not entirely _negatived_, and the bad character of the subject more _fully developed_ and _intensified_ by contact with the more powerful _reducing agents_ by which they are surrounded. Their prison is, however, very pleasantly situated on the banks of the Hudson, about thirty-three miles above New York City.

Opposite Sing Sing is Rockland Lake, one hundred and fifty feet above the river, at the back of the Palisades. This lake is celebrated for three things--leeches and water lilies in summer, and ice in winter.

Rockland Lake ice is prized by the thirsty denizens of New York City in the sultry summer months, and even in this country it is becoming known as a cooler and "refresher."

Nearly opposite Sing Sing is the boldest and highest b.u.t.tress of the Palisades; it is called "Vexatious Point," and stands six hundred and sixty feet above the water.

About eleven miles above Sing Sing we come to Peekskill, which is at the foot of the Peekskill Mountains. Backed up by those picturesque hills it has a pretty appearance from the river. This was also a very important place during the wars. At this point the Americans set fire to a small fleet rather than let it fall into the hands of the British.

A little higher up on the west side is the important military station of West Point. This place, as well as being most charmingly situated, is also famous as the great military training school of the United States.

Probably you have noticed, in reading the accounts of the war now raging between North and South, that this or that general or officer was a "West Point man." General George M'Clellan received his military education at West Point; but, whatever military knowledge he gained at this college, strengthened by experience and observation at the Crimea, he was not allowed to make much use of while he held command of the army of the Potomac. His great opponent, General Lee, was also a "West Point man," and it does not require much consideration to determine which of the "Pointsmen" was the smarter. Washington has also made West Point famous in the time of the war for independence. Benedict Arnold held command of this point and other places in the neighbourhood, when he made overtures to Sir Henry Clinton to hand over to the British, for a pecuniary consideration of 10,000, West Point and all its outposts.

A little higher up is Cold Spring, on the east side of the Hudson; but we will pa.s.s that by, and now we are off Newburg on the west bank. This is a large and flourishing town also at the foot of high hills--indeed, we are now in the highlands of the Hudson, and it would be difficult to find a town or a village that is not _backed up_ by hills. At the time I first visited these scenes there was a large photographic apparatus manufactory at Newburg, where they made "coating boxes," "buff wheels,"

"Pecks blocks," &c., on a very extensive scale, for the benefit of themselves and all who were interested in the "cleaning," "buffing," and "coating" of Daguerreotype plates.

Opposite Newburg is Fishkill; but we shall pa.s.s rapidly up past Poughkeepsie on the right, and other places right and left, until we come to Hudson, on the east side of the river. Opposite Hudson are the Catskill Mountains, and here the river is hemmed in by mountains on all sides, resembling the head of Ullswater lake, or the head of Loch Lomond or Loch Katrine; and here we have a photographic curiosity to descant upon.

Down through the gorges of these mountains came a blast like the sound from a brazen trumpet, which electrified the photographers of the day.

Among these hills resided the Rev. Levi Hill, who lately died in New York, the so-called inventor or discoverer of the Hillotype, or Daguerreotypes in natural colours. So much were the "Daguerreans" of New York startled by the announcement of this wonderful discovery, that they formed themselves into a sort of company to buy up the _highly coloured_ invention. A deputation of some of the most respectable and influential Daguerreotypists of New York was appointed to wait upon the reverend discoverer, and offer him I don't remember how many thousand dollars for his discovery as it stood; and it is said that he showed them specimens of "coloured Daguerreotypes,"--but refused to sell or impart to them the secret until he had completed his discovery, and made it perfect by working out the mode of producing the only lacking colour, chrome yellow. But in that he never succeeded, and so this wonderful discovery was neither given nor sold to the world. Many believed the truth of the man's statements--whether he believed it himself or not, G.o.d only knows.

One skilful Daguerreotypist, in the State of New York, a.s.sured me he had seen the specimens, and had seen the rev. gentleman at work in his laboratory labouring and "buffing" away at a ma.s.s of something like a piece of lava, until by dint of hard rubbing and scrubbing the colours were said to "appear like spirits," one by one, until all but the stubborn chrome yellow showed themselves on the surface. I could not help laughing at my friend's statement and evident credulity, but after seeing "jumping Quakers," disciples of Joe Smith, and believers in the doctrine of Johanna Southcote, I could not be much surprised at any creed either in art or religion, or that men should fall into error in the Hillotype faith as easily as into errors of ethics or morality. I was a.s.sured by my friend (not my travelling companion) that they were beautiful specimens of colouring. Granted; but that did not prove that they were not done by hand. Indeed, a suspicion got abroad that the specimens shown by Mr. Hill were _hand-coloured_ pictures brought from Europe. And from all that I could learn they were more like the beautifully coloured Daguerreotypes of M. Mansion, who was then colourist to Mr. Beard, than anything else I could see or hear of. Being no mean hand myself at colouring a Daguerreotype in those days, I was most anxious to see one of those wonderful specimens of "photography in natural colours," but I never could; and the inventor lived in such an out-of-the way place, among the Catskills, that I had no opportunity of paying him a visit. I have every reason to believe that the hand-coloured pictures by M. Mansion and myself were the only Hillotypes that were ever exhibited in America. Many of my coloured Daguerreotypes were exhibited at the State Fair in Castle Garden, and at the Great Exhibition at New York in 1853. But perhaps the late Rev. Levi Hill was desirous of securing a posthumous fame, and may have left something behind him after all; for surely, no man in his senses would have made such a noise about Daguerreotypes in "natural colours" as he did if he had not some reason for doing so. If so, and if he has left anything behind him that will lead us into nature's hidden mine of natural colours, now is the time for the "heirs and administrators" of the deceased gentlemen to secure for their deceased relative a fame as enduring as the Catskill Mountains themselves.

The Katzbergs, as the Dutch called the Catskill Mountains, on account of the number of wild cats they found among them, have more than a photographic interest. The late Washington Irving has imparted to them an attraction of a romantic character almost as bewitching as that conferred upon the mountains in the vicinity of Loch Lomond and Loch Katrine by Sir Walter Scott. It is true that the delicate fancy of Irving has not peopled the Katzbergs with such "warriors true" as stood

"Along Benledi's living side;"

nor has he "sped the fiery cross" over "dale, glen, and valley;" neither has he tracked

"The antler'd monarch of the waste"

from hill to hill; but the war-whoop of the Mohegans has startled the wild beasts from their lair, and the tawny hunters of the tribe have followed up the trail of the panther until with bow and arrow swift they have slain him in his mountain hiding place. And Irving's quaint fancy has re-peopled the mountains again with the phantom figures of Hendrick Hudson and his crew, and put Rip van Winkle to sleep, like a big baby, in one of nature's huge cradles, where he slept for _twenty years_, and slept away the reign of good King George III. over the colonies, and awoke to find himself a bewildered citizen of the United States of America. And the place where he slept, and the place where he saw the solemn, silent crew of the "Half Moon" playing at ninepins, will be sought for and pointed out in all time coming. And why should these scenes of natural beauty and charming romance not be photographed on the spot? It has not been done to my knowledge, yet they are well worthy the attention of photographers, either amateur or professional. We leave the Catskill Mountains with some regret, because of the disappointment of their not yielding us the promised triumph of chemistry, "photography in natural colours," and because of their beauty and varying effects of _chiaroscuro_ not having been sufficiently rendered in the monochromes we have so long had an opportunity of obtaining in the camera.

Pa.s.sing c.o.xsackie, on the west bank of the Hudson, and many pleasant residences and places on each side of the river, we are soon at Albany, the capital of the State of New York, and the termination of our voyage on board the _Isaac Newton_. And well had our splendid steamer performed her part of the contract. Here we were, in ten hours, at Albany, 144 miles from New York City. What a contrast, in the rate of speed, between the _Isaac Newton_ and the first boat that steamed up the Hudson! The _Claremont_ took over thirty-six hours, wind and weather permitting, to perform the voyage between New York and Albany; and we had done it in ten. What a contrast, too, in the size, style, and deportment of the two boats! The _Claremont_ was a little, panting, puffing, half-clad, always-out-of-breath sort of thing, that splashed and struggled and groaned through the water, and threw its naked and diminutive paddle-wheels in and out of the river--like a man that can neither swim nor is willing to be drowned, throwing his arms in and out of the water in agony--and only reached her destination after a number of stoppings-to-breathe and spasmodic start-agains. The _Isaac Newton_ had glided swiftly and smoothly through the waters of the Hudson, her gigantic paddle-wheels performing as many revolutions in a minute as the other's did in twenty.

But these were the advanced strides and improvements brought about by the workings and experiences of half a century. If the marine steam engine be such a wonderfully-improved machine in that period of time, what may not photography be when the art-science is fifty years old?

What have not the thousands of active brains devoted to its advancement done for it already? What have not been the improvements and wonderful workings of photography in a quarter of a century? What improvements have not been effected in the lifetime of any old Daguerreotypist?

When I first knew photography it was a ghostly thing--a shimmering phantom--that was flashed in and out of your eyes with the rapidity of lightning, as you tried to catch a sight of the image between the total darkness of the black polish of the silvered plate, and the blinding light of the sky, which was reflected as from a mirror into your eyes.

But how these phantom figures vanished! How rapidly they changed from ghostly and almost invisible shadows to solid, visible, and all but tangible forms under the magical influence of G.o.ddard's and Claudet's "bromine accelerator," and Fizeau's "fixing" or gilding process! How Mercury flew to the lovely and joint creations of chemistry and optics, and took kindly to the timid, hiding beauties of Iodine, Bromine, Silver, and Light, and brought them out, and showed them to the world, proudly, as "things of beauty," and "a joy for ever!" How Mercury clung to these latent beauties, and "developed" their charms, and became "attached" to them, and almost immovable; and consented, at last, to be tinted like a Gibson's Venus to enhance the charms and witcheries of his proteges! Anon was Mercury driven from Beauty's fair domain, and bright shining Silver, in another form, took up with two fuming, puffy fellows, who styled themselves Ether and Alcohol, with a villainous taint of methyl and something very much akin to gunpowder running through their veins. A most abominable compound they were, and some of the vilest of the vile were among their progeny; indeed, they were all a "hard lot,"

for I don't know how many rods--I may say tons--of iron had to be used before they could be brought into the civilized world at all. But, happily, they had a short life. Now they have almost pa.s.sed away from off the face of the earth, and it is to be hoped that the place that knew them once will know them no more; for they were a dangerous set--fragile in substance, frightful abortions, and an incubus on the fair fame of photography. They bathed in the foulest of baths, and what served for one served for all. The poisonous and disgusting fluid was used over and over again. Loathsome and pestiferous vapours hovered about them, and they took up their abode in the back slums of our cities, and herded with the mult.i.tude, and a vast majority of them were not worth the consideration of the most callous officer of the sanitary commission. Everything that breathes the breath of life has its moments of agony, and these were the throes that agonised Photography in that fell epoch of her history.

From the ashes of this burning shame Photography arose, Phoenix-like, and with Silver, seven times purified, took her ethereal form into the hearts and _ateliers_ of artists, who welcomed her sunny presence in their abodes of refinement and taste. They treated her kindly and considerately, and lovingly placed her in her proper sphere; and, by their kind and delicate treatment, made her forget the miseries of her degradation and the agonies of her travail. Then art aided photography and photography aided art, and the happy, delightful reciprocity has brought down showers of golden rain amidst the sunshine of prosperity to thousands who follow with love and devotion the chastened and purified form of Photography, accompanied in all her thoughts and doings by her elder sister--Art.

I must apologise for this seeming digression. However, as I have not entirely abandoned my photographic impressions, I take it for granted that I have not presumed too much on the good nature of my readers, and will now endeavour to further develop and redevelop the Hudson, and point out the many phases of beauty that are fit subjects for the camera which may be seen on the waters and highland boundaries of that beautiful river in all seasons of the year.

Albany is the capital of the State. It is a large and flourishing city, and one of the oldest, being an early Dutch settlement, which is sufficiently attested by the prevalence of such cognomens as "Vanderdonck" and "Onderdunk" over the doors of the traders.

About six or eight miles above Albany the Hudson ceases to be navigable for steamers and sailing craft, and the influence of the tide becomes imperceptible. Troy is on the east bank of the river; and about two miles above, the Mohawk River joins the Hudson, coming down from the Western part of the State of New York. For about two hundred miles the Hudson runs almost due north and south from a little below Fort Edward; but, from the Adirondack Mountains, where it takes its spring, it comes down in a north-westerly direction by rushing rapids, cascades, and falls innumerable for about two hundred miles more through some of the wildest country that can possibly be imagined.

We did not proceed up the Upper Hudson, but I was told it would well repay a trip with the camera, as some of the wildest and most picturesque scenery would be found in tracking the Hudson to its source among the Adirondack Mountains.

I afterwards sailed up and down the navigable part of the Hudson many times and at all periods of the year, except when it was ice-bound, by daylight and by moonlight, and a more beautiful moonlight sail cannot possibly be conceived. To be sailing up under the shadow of the Palisades on a bright moonlight night, and see the eastern sh.o.r.e and bays bathed in the magnesium-like light of a bright western moon, is in itself enough to inspire the most ordinary mind with a love of all that is beautiful and poetical in nature.

Moonlight excursions are frequently made from New York to various points on the Hudson, and Sleepy Hollow is one of the most favourite trips. I have been in that neighbourhood, but never saw the "headless horseman"

that was said to haunt the place; but that may be accounted for by the circ.u.mstance of some superior officer having recently commanded the trooper without a head to do duty in Texas.

My next trip up the Hudson was in winter, when the surface of the river was in the state of "glacial," solid at 50 for two or three feet down, but the temperature was considerably lower, frequently 15 and 20 below zero--and that was nipping cold "and no mistake," making the very breath "glacial," plugging up the nostrils with "chunks" of ice, and binding the beard and moustache together, making a glacier on your face, which you had to break through every now and then to make a breathing hole.

On this arctic trip the whole aspect of the river and its boundaries is marvellously changed, without losing any of its picturesque attractions.

Instead of the clear, deep river having its gla.s.sy surface broken by the splash of paddle-wheels, it is converted into a solid highway. Instead of the sound of the "pilot's gong," and the cries of "a sail on the port bow," there is nothing to be heard but the jingling sound of the sleigh bells, and the merry laugh and prattle of the fair occupants of the sleighs, as they skim past on the smooth surface of the ice, wrapped cosily up in their gay buffalo robes.

The great excitement of winter in Canada or the States is to take a sleigh ride; and I think there is nothing more delightful, when the wind is still, than to skim along the ice in the bright, winter sunshine, behind a pair of spanking "trotters." The horses seem to enjoy it as much as the people, arching their necks a little more proudly than usual, and stepping lightly to the merry sound of the sleigh bells.

At this time of the year large sleighs, holding fifteen to twenty people, and drawn by four horses, take the place of steamers, omnibuses, and ferry boats. The steam ferries are housed, except at New York, and there they keep grinding their way through the ice "all winter," as if they would not let winter reign over their destinies if they could help it. Large sleighs cross and recross on the ice higher up the Hudson, and thus keep up the connection between the various points and opposite sh.o.r.es. As the mercury falls the spirits of the people seem to rise, and they shout and halloo at each other as they pa.s.s or race on the ice.

These are animated scenes for the skill of a Blanchard or any other artist equally good in the production of instantaneous photographs.

Another of the scenes on the Hudson worthy of the camera is "ploughing the ice." It is a singular sight to an Englishman to see a man driving a team of horses on the ice, and see the white powder rising before the ice-plough like spray from the prow of a vessel as she rushes through the water, cutting the ice into blocks or squares, to stow away in "chunks," and afterwards, when the hot sultry weather of July and August is prostrating you, have them brought out to make those wonderful mixtures called "ice-creams," "sherry-cobblers," and "brandy-c.o.c.ktails."

The Hudson is beautiful in winter as well as in summer, and I wonder its various and picturesque beauties have not been photographed more abundantly. But there it is. Prophets are never honoured in their own country, and artists and photographers never see the beauties of their country at home. I am sure if the Hudson were photographed from the sea to its source it would be one of the most valuable, interesting, and picturesque series of photographs that ever was published. Its aspects in summer are lovely and charming, and the wet process can then be employed with success. And in winter, though the temperature is low, the river is perfectly dry on the surface, the hills and trees are glistening with snow and icicles, the people are on the very happiest terms with one another, and frequently exhibit an abundance of dry, good humour. This is the time to work the "dry process" most successfully, and, instead of the "ammonia developers," try the "hot and strong" ones.

With these few hints to my photographic friends, I leave the beauties of the Hudson to their kind consideration.--_British Journal of Photography_, 1865.

PICTURES OF THE POTOMAC IN PEACE AND WAR.

When first I visited that lovely region which has so recently been torn and trampled down--blackened and defaced by the ruthlessness of war--peace lay in the valleys of the Potomac. Nothing was borne on the calm, clear bosom of the broad and listless river but the produce of the rich and smiling valleys of Virginia. Its banks were peaceful, silent, and beautiful. The peach orchards were white with the blossoms that promised a rich harvest of their delicious fruit. The neat and pretty houses that studded the sloping boundaries of the river were almost blinding with their dazzling whiteness as the full blaze of the sun fell upon them. Their inhabitants were happy, and dreamt not of the storm so soon to overtake them. The forts were occupied by only a few, very few soldiers. The guns were laid aside, all rusty and uncared for; and pilgrims to the tomb of Washington, the good and great, stopped on their return at Fort Washington to examine the fortifications in idleness and peaceful curiosity. The Capitol at Washington echoed nothing but the sounds of peace and good will. The senators of both North and South sat in council together, and considered only the welfare and prosperity of their great confederation.

The same harmonious fellowship influenced the appearance and actions of all; and at that happy conjuncture I made my first acquaintance with Washington, the capital of the United States. I shall not attempt a description of its geographical position: everybody knows that it is in the district of Columbia, and on the banks of the Potomac. It is a city of vast and pretentious appearance, straggling over an unnecessary amount of ground, and is divided into avenues and streets. The avenues are named after the princ.i.p.al States, and take their spring from the Capitol, running off in all directions in angular form, like the spokes of a wheel, the Capitol being the "angular point." The streets running between and across the avenues rejoice in the euphonious names of First, Second, and Third, and A, B, and C streets, the straight lines of which are broken by trees of the most luxurious growth all along the side-walks. These trees form a delightful sun-shade in summer, and have a very novel and pleasing effect at night, when their green and leafy arches are illuminated by the gas lamps underneath.

Excepting the Capitol, White House, Court House, Post Office, Patent Office, and Smithsonian Inst.i.tute, there is nothing in the city of photographic interest. The "United States," the "National," and "Willards," are large and commodious hotels on Pennsylvania Avenue; but not worth a plate, photographically speaking, unless the landlords wish to ill.u.s.trate their bar bills. The Capitol is out of all proportion the largest and most imposing structure in Washington--it may safely be said in the United States. Situated on an elevated site, at the top of Pennsylvania Avenue, it forms a grand termination to that n.o.ble thoroughfare at its eastern extremity. The building consists of a grand centre of freestone painted white, surmounted by a vast dome of beautiful proportions. Two large wings of white marble complete the grand facade. Ascending the n.o.ble flight of marble steps to the princ.i.p.al entrance, the great portico is reached, which is supported by about eighteen Corinthian columns. The pediment is ornamented with a statue of America in the centre, with the figures of Faith on her left, and Justice on her right. On each side of the entrance is a group of statuary. On one side an Indian savage is about to ma.s.sacre a mother and her child, but his arm is arrested by the figure of Civilization. On the other side the group consists of a man holding up a globe, representing Columbus and the figure of an Indian girl looking up to it.

The large rotunda, immediately underneath the dome, is divided into panels, which are filled with paintings, such as the "Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers," "The Baptism of the Indian Princess Pocahontas," and other subjects ill.u.s.trative of American history. On either side of the Rotunda are pa.s.sages leading to the House of Representatives on the one side, and the Senate Chamber on the other. Congress being a.s.sembled, I looked in to see the collective wisdom of the "States" during a morning sitting. In many respects the House of Representatives very much resembled our own House of Commons. There was a Mr. Speaker in the chair, and one gentleman had "the floor," and was addressing the House.

Other members were seated in their desk seats, making notes, or busying themselves with their own bills. In one essential point, however, I found a difference, and that was in the ease of access to this a.s.sembly.

No "member's order" was required. Strangers and "citizens" are at all times freely admitted. There is also a magnificent library, which is free to everyone.

During the Session there is Divine service in the Senate Chamber on Sunday mornings. On one occasion I attended, and heard a most excellent discourse by the appointed chaplain. The President and his family were there.

In some side offices, connected with the Capitol, I found a government photographer at work, copying plans, and photographing portions of the unfinished building, for the benefit of the architects and others whose duty it was to examine the progress of the works. From this gentleman I received much courteous attention, and was shown many large and excellent negatives, all of which were developed with the ordinary iron developer.

I next visited the Patent Office, and the museum connected therewith, which contains a vast collection of models of all kinds of inventions that have received protection--among them several things, in apparatus and implements, connected with photography. The American patent laws require a model of every new invention to be lodged in this museum, which is of immense value to inventors and intending patentees; for they can there see what has already been protected; and as the Patent Office refuses to grant protection to anything of a similar form, use, or application, much litigation, expense, and annoyance are saved the patentees. Our Government would do well to take a leaf out of "Brother Jonathan's" book on this subject; for not only is there increased protection given to inventors, but the fees are considerably less than in this country.

The presidential residence, called the White House, was the next interesting subject of observation. It is situated at the west end of Pennsylvania Avenue, and a good mile from the Capitol. The building is of white marble, and of very unpretending size and architectural attractions, but in every respect sufficient for the simple wants of the chief magistrate of the United States, whose official salary is only twenty-five thousand dollars per annum.

During congressional session the President holds weekly _levees_; and one of these I determined to attend, prompted as much by curiosity to see how such things were done, as desire to pay my respects.