Sepia Saturday 172: Sunny Snaps walking pictures

Between the two World Wars photographers took to the streets in search of customers and produced a genre now commonly referred to as walkies (short for walking pictures) or street/pavement photography. I have displayed examples of these in two previous Photo-Sleuth articles, Spotlight Photos Ltd. of Derby and in Bournemouth and Great Yarmouth.


Unidentified family (Minns Collection)
Postcard by Sunny Snaps (street photographer), Bognor Regis, 1934
Image © and collection of Brett Payne
This week I feature several postcard-format walking pictures from the firm Sunny Snaps, which operated for just over a decade between 1927 and 1940 in London and on the coast of Sussex. A single view has been found ostensibly taken in Hunstanton, on the Norfolk coast.

Although sunny snaps was sometimes used in a more general - and perhaps generic - sense to refer to walking pictures, and there were other firms incorporating the word snaps, postcards produced by this particular firm are immediately recognisable by their distinctive format. The cards are usually, but not always, produced in portrait orientation and have a panel at the base of the card. This panel is embellished with a pen-and-ink drawing - usually a scene or image representative of the location, but sometimes a royal or patriotic picture/logo - the name of the firm, the year and usually the location. There is almost always a negative number as well.


Unidentified woman pushing a pram
Postcard by Sunny Snaps (street photographer), London, 1934
Image © and courtesy of lovedaylemon and Flickr
Walking pictures differ from other portraits taken by itinerant or street photographers because they are taken "on spec." The photographer takes snapshots of a succession of passers-by while they are walking towards the camera, irrespective of whether or not the subjects have requested one, and presumably without their permission. The subject is handed a numbered ticket (corresponding to the negative number) and informed where he or she may collect and pay for a postcard print in due course. Simon Robinson has determined from his research into this firm, including an analysis of atreet scenes, that they usually made arrangements with a handy shop premises nearby, and erected a temporary advertising banner to assist in directing customers.

As a result, the subjects are often captured regarding the camera with a vague degree of suspicion - as in the first snapshot from Bognor Regis - or are oblivious to the photographer's presence, as the woman with a pram (above) appears to be, more interested in the contents of a London shop window display.


Unidentified women out shopping
Postcard by Sunny Snaps (street photographer), Worthing, 1934
Image © and courtesy of lisabee73 and Flickr
As a result they often have a candid feel to them mostly absent from more formal photographs from the era. This characteristic is generally missing from vernacular snapshots where the subjects are often conscious that their images are being captured, and may even ham it up for the camera. The fact that Sunny Snaps portraits are usually of a very good technical standard means that there are fewer of the distractions normally present in walking pictures, giving us a unusual glimpse into the subjects' everyday lives and personalities.


Unidentified schoolboys, August 1935, unknown location
Postcard by Sunny Snaps (street photographer), Silver Jubilee, 1935
Image © and courtesy of trevira and Flickr
These schoolboys, possibly caught on film on their way home from school, are enjoying their freedom and have a casual look about them (at least the two on the left do). Had their parents been present their faces would most likely have been far more guarded. I wonder which one of the three spent a good portion of his weekly pocket money on the postcard.

The trick, if the photographer could manage it, was to single out his subject and take his "candid" portrait in such a manner that he or she stood out from both the surroundings and the other pedestrians, and of course in a favourable light, rather than being caught with a scowl or merely being lost in the crowd. They were not always entirely successful - in this example the subjects almost disppear into the background. Many of the people on the streets of these coastal towns would be holidaymakers, and therefore far more likely to part with a few coins for a souvenir of their visit, but it was still necessary to entice them with a good quality product.


Unidentified family on the beach, Littlehampton
Postcard by Sunny Snaps (street photographer), G VI R, 1937
Image © and courtesy of lovedaylemon and Flickr
In this slightly more unusual posed Sunny Snap, a family is posed relaxing in canvas folding chairs in front of wooden changing sheds on the Littlehampton beach in 1937. A similar shot with a beach setting from a decade earlier shows a family in the midst of constructing a sandcastle, so it appears that when trade was not particularly brisk on the street, the photographer would venture onto the sands in search of customers. However, there were others specialising in scouring the beaches, and a seaside photographer guarded his turf aggressively. Unauthorised interlopers were referred to as Spivs or Smudge Grafters.


Unidentified man strolling with newspaper, Hunstanton
Postcard by Sunny Snaps (street photographer), 1938
Image © and courtesy of lovedaylemon and Flickr
This neatly dressed and combed young man appears deep in thought while he strolls down the quay, a newspaper folded and firmly tucked under his arm, and presumably shortly before being accosted by a man waving a ticket under his nose, and badgering him to return and buy a print later that day. Judging by the survival of this postcard it seems that he did so.

Although it is tempting to assume that a large proportion of the photographs printed in this speculative trade ended up being discarded, judging from contemporary reports perhaps we would be underestimating the marketing skills of the teams who worked the pavements and beachfronts. Alan Purvis was employed by Walkie Snaps at Blackpool's Central Pier in 1958, and describes these skills in some detail:

The best time for taking pictures was on a Sunday morning as the new set of holidaymakers, who had arrived on the previous day, were in a good mood and still had money to spend. Friday afternoon was the worst as they were going home the next day and were stoney broke! Some people would refuse a ticket, others would say that they had been snapped the day before and regular walkers might raise a hand to indicate that they weren’t interested in having their picture taken. Occasionally clients actually requested one snap or more to include all the family.
The photographer had to make a quick decision as to the composition of the picture. Snaps of a single person were less likely to be bought than those of a couple; pictures of three or more people could easily include total strangers; even in 1958 a couple may not have wanted to be seen together!

Terence Baggett worked as a beach photographer in Weymouth in the 1960s and reports:

Volume, then and later, was important. My best score was 1,200 in one day with a Leica. Sales was more important as pay was calculated on 3d/sale and less than 60% sales won a threat of sacking.

Searching through your own family photo collections will almost certainly bring one or two walking pictures to light. You may even find a couple among the other Sepia Saturday contributions this week.

References

Sunny Snaps and Littlehampton Sunny Snap, by Simon Robinson on Go Home on a Postcard.

Walking Pictures by Simon Robinson, with a comment by Alan Purvis (9 Sep 2011).

A Seaside Photographer, George Raymond Meadows (1914-2000), by Paul and Gail Godfrey.

Walking Pictures by Paul Godfrey on Our Great Yarmouth

List of Seaside Photographers in the United Kingdom by Paul Godfrey

Seaside Photographers by Paul Godfrey on British Photographic History, with comments by Terrence Baggett and others, May-July 2012.

Sepia Saturday 170: The Gamekeeper

I trust that Sepia Saturday readers will forgive my contribution this week having little in common with the photo prompt, except in the sense of two men loitering around a doorway. Actually there's not even a doorway in my photograph, although the sharp-eyed will note that there used to be one.

This cabinet portrait is the first photograph in an album given to me several years ago by Jack Armstrong, which is the subject of an ongoing (albeit not very recent) series of Photo-Sleuth articles devoted to documenting, researching and conserving old photograph albums:

• Researching an album from Cleveland, Ohio - Introduction
• Researching an album: (1) A digital photographic and scanned record
• Researching an album: (2) Documenting the album and photographs

Unidentified men outside house
Cabinet card by unknown photographer
Image © and collection of Brett Payne (Jack Armstrong Album)
The cabinet mount is glossy green card with no printed indication of the photographer or the location, which is unfortunate. Based on a geographical analysis conducted of the contents of the album - due to appear as the next article in the series mentioned above, in due course - and careful scrutiny of the building's brickwork style by fellow Sepian Nigel Aspdin, it seems likely that it was taken somewhere in the English Midlands, probably in north-east Staffordshire or southern Derbyshire.


Both men stand with their left hands on their hips and are wearing trousers, jacket, waistcoat and flat caps, superficially very similar, but on closer examination a number of differences are apparent setting them well apart. On the left, the slightly older, moustachioed man has a nicely cut jacket with matching waistcoat, a cravate and what appears to be a pair of check Tweed trousers (perhaps even the Prince of Wales check, commissioned first by Edward VII). His shoes are highly polished, his flat cap (possibly also made of Tweed) sits at a slight angle and he carries a cane in his right hand.


The more hirsute man on the right, however, has a thicker jacket and waistcoat to protect from him from the elements, and with plenty of pockets, well-worn, faded and creased working trousers tucked into calf-length gaiters, which in turn cover the upper parts of a pair of clean, but slightly duller working boots with thick soles. His flat cap, like the rest of his clothes, is unpatterned and rather utitlitarian, covering his hair and with the peak horizontally set above his eyes. His only concession to flair is a spotted cravate, just visible beneath a roughly trimmed beard.


Gamekeepers and dogs at Wemmergill, undated, probably c1900s
Image © Freda Longstaff and courtesy of Lunedale Heritage Image Archive
It occurred to me that the man on the left was probably a landowner, while the other, probably his employee, is most likely a gamekeeper. A dog - possibly a spaniel, although I'm no expert on breeds - the one accessory that a gamekeeper could not do without, sits patiently at his feet. Searching for images of Victorian and Edwardian gamekeepers on the net produced a brace of similar examples, including the group above, complete with a very similar breed of dog, but I remembered that I have another in my collection of images contributed to the archive for Derbyshire Photographers.


Unidentified gamekeeper
Carte de visite by Thomas Roberts of Albert Street, Derby
Image © and courtesy of John Bradley
This full length portrait from the early 1860s is almost certainly of a gamekeeper with his shotgun, sadly without a spaniel, but wearing similar working clothing except for a flat cap, replaced by a fairly low-crowned, practical top hat. His gaiters are almost identical to those worn by our putative gamekeeper in the first image. Unfortunately the subject this one is likewise not identified, leaving us to assume that he was employed on an estate somewhere near Derby.

Thomas Roberts, Derby's first resident photographer, operated studios in Victoria Street, Oakes' Yard, St James' Lane and Albert Street from 1843 intermittently until 1876. His studio was situated in Albert Street in the latter part of this period, from c.1862 onwards, giving us an earliest date for the portrait.


Unidentified subject with gun and dog, c.1865-1867
Carte de visite by Disdéri & Co, 70-72 Brook Street, Hanover Square W.
Finally I include an image that I've had on file for a while, having found it on eBay (although it was too pricey for me to consider purchasing). The carte de visite was produced by, and presumably taken at, the Westminster branch studio of renowned photographer Disdéri, who operated from this particular address (70,71,72 Brook Street) for a relatively short period of three years, providing a narrow date range for the portrait. Disdéri is credited with the introduction, in 1854, and later popularisation of the carte de visite format.

The young man pictured sitting rather unceremoniously on an what appears to be an upturned tub or half-barrel has all the trappings of a gamekeeper, including stout shoes, shoulder patches, a double-barrelled shotgun and a dutiful dog at his feet.


H.R.H. Albert Edward, Prince of Wales
(Left) Detail from portrait by Abdullah Freres, Constantinople, c1868
(Right) Carte de visite portrait by Sergei Levitsky, c1870
Images © The Royal Collection and The Di Rocco Wieler Private Collection
His face looked to me rather familiar, and I wondered if he was a young Albert Edward, Prince of Wales, later to become King Edward VII. Certainly he looks very similar to these two portraits of him taken in the late 1860s.


Carte de visite portraits of H.R.H. Prince Alfred, Duke of Edinburgh
by (Top) James Russell & Sons, Chichester, 1866 (Lower left) S.B. Barnard, Cape Town, August 1867 (Lower right) Johnstone, O'Shannessy & Co., Melbourne, 1867-1868
Images © and courtesy of the National Portrait Gallery
However, while searching for images of the young Prince in the right time frame (1865-1867) I came across several of his younger brother, Prince Alfred, from May 1866 the Duke of Edinburgh and later the Duke of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha. During the period in question he was serving as a Captain in the Royal Navy, in command of the frigate HMS Galatea, and sailed on a voyage around the world from January 1867 until June 1871, interrupted by a trip back to England after a failed assassination attempt in Sydney, Australia.

The National Portrait Gallery has a number of portraits of Prince Alfred, including the four above taken in various studios from 1866 to 1868. It is these portraits that have convinced me that the Disderi CDV is indeed of Prince Alfred, not really masquerading as a gamekeeper, but ready to go out for a spot of pheasant shooting.

To end this addition to my intermittent series of Victorian portraits depicting occupations, I'll leave you with a description of an encounter with a gamekeeper and his dog.

She was watching a brown spaniel that had run out of a side-path, and was looking towards them with a lifted nose, making a soft fluffy bark. A man with a gun strode swiftly, softly out after the dog, facing their way as if about to attack them; then stopped instead, saluted, and was turning downhill. It was only the new game-keeper, but he had frightened Connie, he seemed to emerge with such a swift menace ... He was a man in dark green velveteens and gaiters ... the old style, with a red face and red moustache and distant eyes. He was going quickly downhill. 'Mellors!' called Clifford.

D.H. Lawrence, Lady Chatterley's Lover

References

Archival Gamekeepers, from Archival Clothing.

Andre Adolphe Eugene Disderi (1819-1889), from the photoLondon database.

Hirsch, Robert (2009) The Carte de Visite and the Photo Album (Chapter 4.5), in Seizing the Light: A Social History of Photography, Second edition, McGraw-Hill, reproduced on Luminous Lint.

Biography of and Photographs by Disdéri on Luminous Lint.

Sepia Saturday 128: The Mikado

This week's Sepia Saturday theme gives me an opportunity to show off another eBay purchase, one which would have had a lot more relevance to my great-grandfather Charles Vincent Payne (1868-1941) than to myself.


This silver gelatin print mounted on thick white card with an embossed rectangular frame was an unusual purchase for me, as I know nothing about operatic musicals and, to be honest, am not particularly partial to them either. However, I am intrigued by the late Victorian fascination with all things Oriental, including The Mikado written by Gilbert and Sullivan and first produced at the Savoy Theatre by the D'Oyly Carte Company in March 1885.


I believe this group of nine young ladies dressed to the oriental nines, bedecked with fans and a multitude of hair ornaments, must be participating in the chorus for a performance, possibly amateur rather than professional, of "The Mikado." The group portrait appears to have been taken by photographer Henry Spink of Brighton on a visit to the performance venue, since the background includes appropriately painted oriental scenes.


The Mikado, Three Little Maids from School
Publicity poster for New York production, 1885
Image courtesy of Wikipedia
Their costumes are very similar to those shown in a poster for one of the professional D'Oyly Carte productions, depicting the "Three Little Maids from School."


Three Little Maids, London 1885
Image courtesy of Wikipedia
The Three Little Maids - in this case, the actresses Sybil Grey, Leonora Braham and Jessie Bond - are also shown in this photograph from the first D'Oyly Carte performance at the Savoy Theatre. Whether the painted scene is a theatre prop from the actual performance or a specially prepared studio backdrop is unknown.


Three Little Maids, c.1885
Tintype by unidentified U.S. photographer (5.7 x 8.4 mm)
Image courtesy of The American Museum of Photography
The instant success of the opera, even across the Atlantic, is demonstrated by this tintype from the mid- to late 1880s (courtesy of The American Museum of Photography), also showing the "Three Little Maids" in a pose which was widely emulated for advertising purposes. In this case, the painted backdrop seems to be a generic, rather then specifically oriental scene.


Advertising Card for the Tricora Corset, c.1885
Chromolithograph, by unidentified artist
Image courtesy of The American Museum of Photography
A delightful card for The Tricora Corset is a typical example of the advertising produced with this theme.


Geraldine Ulmar as "Yum-Yum," The Mikado, 1886
Cabinet card by B.J. Falk of New York
Image courtesy of the New York Public Library
Photographers also made full use of the commercial possibilities, such is in this "paper moon" style of cabinet card portrait by celebrity hunter B.J. Falk picturing Geraldine Ulmar, one of the cast in the original 5th Avenue D'Oyly Carte production which ran from August 1885 to April 1886. She also appears as the central figure in the "Three Little Maids from School" poster.


David Simkin's thoroughly researched work on the Spink family of photographers from Brighton very usefully includes a dated list of studio addresses. This suggests that Henry Spink Junior operated from 109 Western Road, Brighton from 1896 to 1934, but that his portraits show the name "Henry Spink" - as opposed to "Henry Spink (junior)" or "Spink (Brighton) Limited" - only from 1911 to 1921. It seems likely to me that this group portrait is from the early, pre-War part of that period, say between 1911 and 1914.


The Mikado 1904 by the Leicester Amateur Music & Dramatic Society
Image © and courtesy of Alan Craxford
By the turn of the century - perhaps even earlier - The Mikado was being performed by amateur dramatic societies. Alan Craxford has written about his grandfather's involvement with local amateur dramatic society in Leicester in the 1920s and early 1930s, and includes a programme for a performance of The Mikado in April 1904 which he surmises that his grandfather may have attended.

It seems likely that after the Second Savoy repertory season from April 1908 to March 1909, a revival of interest may have led to increased amateur performance of the opera throughout the United Kingdom. I haven't yet found documentation of such a performance in Brighton, but I'm sure that if there was one, the records will appear on the net eventually. In fact, Brighton hosted the first provincial production of The Mikado in July 1884, a little more than a year after its original debut.


Charles Vincent Payne in costume, c.1894
Cabinet card by Pollard Graham, Derby
Image © and collection of Brett Payne
My great-grandfather, shown here in what I assume was one of his theatrical get-ups, might have had quite a different life had he chosen to take up a reputed offer of a contract with the D'Oyly Carte Opera Company. As it was, he worked as a coach builder, a builder and a grocer, then was in business as an estate agent for much of his working life in Derby, but many of his leisure hours were taken up with amateur singing and dramatics (see Whistling Bird, the Arizona Cowboy and the Disappearing Lady).

Join Sophie Tucker with her "I Can't Get Enough Of Your Love," and other such entertaining stories - head over to Sepia Saturday for this week's smorgasbord.

Sepia Saturday 124: John Bradbury Winter, modelmaker

It's been almost six months since I last wrote an article for Photo-Sleuth or made any contribution to Sepia Saturday. The reason for this has been my involvement, in a variety of roles, in the Rena Oil Spill Response which has just been wrapped up. I've posted a few photos taken during my Rena adventures since mid-October over at my Gluepot Gazette blog if you're interested in seeing what I've been up to. I'm afraid there just hasn't been the time for catching up with fellow SS enthusiasts' efforts, let alone researching old photographs. While I await the outcome of several job applications currently in the pipeline, I'll hopefully have a little more time to do both over the next few weeks.

Several family members worked for the railways during Victorian and Edwardian times, but they appear to have left little in the way of ephemeral evidence of such employment. I'm concentrating, therefore, on the "model railway" aspect of Alan's photo prompt with an example from my collection of purchased photographs.

I'm not sure why I purchased this one; it doesn't have the usual pre-requisites for my eBay purchases, e.g. from Derbyshire. Perhaps it reminded me of my brief childhood passion for making models, although I never made anything approaching the quality of this example. It is a print (100 x 70mm) mounted on card with rounded corners and unusual dimensions (105 x 82mm), a size/shape I tend to associate - rightly or wrongly - with shots taken by amateurs in the late 1890s and early 1900s.

The subject appears to be a model of an early railway locomotive, its wheels resting on wooden rails. My knowledge of early steam is so meagre that I couldn't begin to make an identification, but from a cursory glance through a selection of Googled images I'm guessing it was a design from the mid-1800s. An inscription handwritten in pen at the base of the mount, below the print, suggests that the photograph was taken in Brighton on 10 October 1905 (10/10/05).

The reverse shows a handwritten insciption in pencil, Built by J.B. Winter, probably in a different hand to that on the front. A little research on FreeBMD and Google revealed that this is most likely to be one John Bradbury Winter (1869-1950), a medical doctor and renowned model maker. Born in 1869 at Brighton, Sussex, he was the son of John Newnham Winter (1830-1907) and grandson of Thomas Bradbury Winter (1797-1874), both surgeons.

It has occurred to me that the inscription could have been made much later than the photo was taken, and might even be a hopeful, rather than strictly factual, attribution. I'd therefore be interested in hearing from model makers and enthusiasts who might be able to identify the model of locomotive and suggest whether the workmanship is up to Mr Winter's calibre.


Model of Stephenson's Rocket by Dr J. Bradbury Winter
Collection of the Institution of Mechanical Engineers
Image by kind permission of © Alan Stepney and courtesy of Flickr
This miniature version of Stephenson's Rocket was constructed in silver by John Bradbury Winter for the Institution of Mechanical Engineers, who still own it. The following is an extract of a post on a model makers' forum:

Dr John Bradbury Winter was a model maker with incredible skill and patience, and everything he made was simply a reduced version of the prototype. I remember reading long ago about a model he built of William Stroudley's "Como" that involved him crawling inside the tender of the original to ensure that he had every detail correct. It's currently in the Brighton and Hove Museum.

If you have any further information to add to the story, please leave a comment or get in touch by email. Also, please do visit the contributions by other Sepia Saturday participants this week. You're guaranteed to be entertained.

Somebody's grandfather, by E.I. Baker of Hailsham

In response to the carte de visite that I posted yesterday, Diana Burns sent me this most appropriate rejoinder, which she secretly hopes is her 3x-great-grandfather Daniel Talbot (1797-1871).

The things I have noticed are his thread-bare right trouser knee (apparently on one side only - why?); the photographer's use of the head support, which surprised me as he is seated, and his ferocious expression (grandmothers are not the only ones who can be forbidding!) The lower part of his walking stick is oddly serrated ... I believe the sitter's style of beard and frock-coat date also to the 1860s, but he does not strike me as a style icon!

Diana is right that this is a typical 1860s photograph. The full length seated portait with a studio setting consisting of patterned carpet, painted backdrop, curtain, plain wall, moulded skirting board, side table with tablecloth and basket of flowers, and chair with turned legs are what one would see in most studios in the larger English towns by the mid-1860s.

This man looks to me to be at least in his sixties, perhaps even early seventies. He is dressed, I think, in a frock coat with matching waistcoat and trousers, and possibly a bow tie, although his white chin beard is in the way. A watch chain is visible, and he is holding a walking stick, apparently carved with something twined around it, at least on the lower section.

Regarding the damaged right trouser knee, it's difficult to be sure without a more detailed scan whether this is on the original, or if the print has suffered some abrasion. It is tempting to think that he might have fallen over on the way to the studio - hence his grumpy countenance. His left arm is resting on the side table in a slightly uncomfortable looking, perhaps to steady it!

The base of the neck support (also known as a head clamp) which is just visible between the legs of the chair, together with the rather uncomfortable-looking angle at which he's holding his head, suggests that his head needed steadying too. While a head support is perhaps less frequently observed in portrais taken in the late 1860s than in the early 1860s, it would not be too unusual to have one available in the studio. I note, too, that both of his hands are clenched fairly tightly. One could theorise, therefore, that the subject might have been suffering from a nervous system ailment, perhaps just due to old age, resulting in tremors which were difficult to control.

Edwin Isaac Baker started work in the 1860s and I suspect the glued-on label on the reverse shows that this was an early photo.

According to David Simkin's detailed biography of Edwin Isaac Baker, he started operating a photographic studio from the premises of his booksellers and stationery business in Hailsham's High Street around 1868. David includes an example of an early carte de visite by Baker from c.1869, using a pre-printed mount rather than a plain mount with an affixed label. This portrait has an almost identical studio setting as Diana's CDV - all that is missing are the side table, tablecloth and flower basket.


The use of the printed label pasted on plain white card may indeed suggest an early example of his work, before he had built up enough of a reputation and clientele to warrant the slightly higher prices of printed card stock. The misprint of his second initial as "J" instead of "I" also suggests it may have been done on the cheap. Indeed the label is almost reminiscent of a book plate. Another example of a pasted label can be seen in my profile of the early Bradwell (Derbyshire) photographer Joshua Evans. Diana has more cartes de visite by E.I. Baker in her family collection, including the portrait of a different, but also unidentified, man - shown above - in the same studio setting, but now using printed card stock.

So if the portrait of the older man was taken in 1868 or 1869, and I estimate that he was perhaps between 63 and 73 years old, this would imply a birth date of c.1795-1806. Diana's ancestor Daniel Talbot was born in 1797 and the portrait could therefore well depict him. However, I would be looking for further information to corroborate this theory. For example, where was he living at the time this photograph was taken? If he wasn't living in Hailsham, what could have been a plausible reason for his visiting the town? Are there other photographs in the family collection depicting Daniel Talbot, and do they show the same man? Can any of other E.I. Baker CDVs in the collection be identified, and can they be related in some way to this one? As with all good genealogical enquiries, approaching the problem from as many different angles as you can think of gives you a much greater chance of success.

As an aside, I wonder if the scene depicted in the backdrop might be recognisable to those familiar with the geography of the country around Hailsham. Painted backdrops did sometimes portray real scenes, and this one could well be of a local view. It appears to show a river crossed by a high bridge or viaduct. A search on Geograph for bridges within 10 kilometres of Hailsham produced a wealth of photographs, but a quick browse failed to turn up any showing suitable candidates. It would be nice to hear from anyone who can identify the bridge or scene.

Camping out - a Sunday family visit to a military encampment?

Birte Koch is building an interesting and useful web site Album 1900 which presents various aspects of the history of everyday life in the second half of the 19th and the first half of the 20th Centuries. Photographs, drawings, images and text are used to illustrate the changes in fashions, trends and accoutrements of ordinary people. German and English texts are provided. I'm sure that I will be using the site in the future to help with dating photographs or identifying accessories.

Birte sent me images of the front and reverse of a cabinet card by W. & A.H. Fry of Brighton, asking if I could shed any light on the subjects and setting.

Here is a very interesting cabinet card by Fry of Hastings. I think it is the 1880s. Some kind of camp picture. I'd love to know what kind of camp this may have been. I have no idea.

David Simkin has an extensive history of the Fry family of photographers of Brighton (Walter and Allen Hastings Fry) and London (Elliot & Fry) on his excellent (and growing) Sussex PhotoHistory site, with numerous examples of their work. These include two galleries of images, one of which is a cabinet portrait of an unidentified woman with a negative number 35428, dated at approximately 1883. This is very close to the negative number on Birte's cabinet card (35192), suggesting that they were taken at around the same time.


The card mount has a very similar, although not quite identical, design to one produced for Derby photographer W.W. Winter and used from c. 1883-1886 (Type XV).


The clothing to me looks to be to from around the mid-1880s, an estimate with which Birte agrees, but I'm not sufficiently skilled to be able to provide an accurate date based on that factor alone. I note, however, that the young man seated on the ground and the young boy standing between the man and woman are wearing Scottish kilts, a Glengarry hat, and a tam-o-shanter. This suggests to me that the family is of Scottish origin. The woman seated on a chair appears to have a folded parasol on her lap.


The tent is of particular interest to me. I have seen photographs of tents of almost identical design, and white or off-white in colour, used in military encampments from the late 1800s until the First World War. Indeed I have a postcard photograph (above) from around the turn of the century showing a large number of such tents arranged in lines in fields at Shorncliffe, near Folkestone, Kent, England. This is where my grandfather trained with the Canadian Expeditionary Force before going to to France during the First World War.


I have seen images of close-up photos of these tents, showing an almost identical circular wooden floor as that which can be seen in the Fry photograph, on the right-hand side. In that image, a similar tent can be also seen in the upper right background, indicating that it was probably part of a bigger encampment. Although I am sure that these cone-shaped tents, or bell-tents as they were termed, were not exclusively used by the military, I believe it very likely that this was part of a military camp. Bill Alexander, a member of the CEF Study Group, made the following observations in this post on the CEFSG Forum:

Just a comment about the ubiquitous "bell tent". These have been around for ever, and were still in use as late as the 1970's. I remember several "sleep overs". The tents had a wood floor and the sides rolled up. I remember being at cadet camps in the late 60's early 70's, and there were rows of bell tents. If I remember correctly some of them were actually dated circa WW1.

Another CEF Study Group member, John, posted a photograph in the same thread, showing an informal group of CEF soldiers in First World War style uniforms relaxing outside a similar bell tent.


Interestingly, once I started looking for pictures of tents of this era, I found no shortage of images in my own collection of old family photographs. The first of these, shown above, is of an unidentified soldier in uniform, seated outside a white canvas bell tent, and with a similar tent in the background.


The second, from the same group, and therefore probably taken at around the same time, is of my grandfather Dirk Smit (1895-1985), standing in the entrance to a bell tent, with several other soldiers seated in various leisurely poses. This was while he was doing military service in the Dutch Army around 1914-1915.


The third photograph is of a group of recruits in "A" Company of the 36th Battalion, Australian Imperial Force including, at front left, my great-uncle Hendrik Jan "Harry" Schipper (1883-1917). It was probably taken during training at Camp Rutherford, New South Wales in the winter or early spring of 1916. While the tent behind them is of a cottage tent design, rather than the bell, it shows a very similar wooden floor, raised a few inches above the ground, and with a shallow drainage trench surrounding it.

My interepretation, therefore, is that the man with the bowler hat and cane is a soldier, but dressed in civilian clothing, perhaps on a Sunday, while receiving a visit from his family. The camp seems to be semi-permanent, as the occupant has gone to the extent of hanging some substantial decorations on the wall, two of which may even be photographic portraits. The third, central one looks more like a plate. To his left one can see what appear to be a couple of cooking pots and pans. There also may be some books on a table at the back of the tent.

While the photographer may have travelled some distance to take this photograph - even to Shorncliffe, whose use for military purposes dated right back to the Crimean War - it seems more likely that it was a camp closer to Brighton. There was a military camp located at Seaford, not too far from Brighton, during the Great War, but I don't know when it was established.