The photographic news

• Bandzählung: 29.1885
• Erscheinungsdatum: 1885
• Sprache: Englisch
• Signatur: F 135
• Vorlage: Hochschule für Grafik und Buchkunst Leipzig
• Digitalisat: Hochschule für Grafik und Buchkunst Leipzig
• Digitalisat: SLUB Dresden
• Rechtehinweis: Public Domain Mark 1.0
• URN: urn:nbn:de:bsz:14-db-id1780948042-188500006
• PURL: http://digital.slub-dresden.de/id1780948042-18850000
• OAI: oai:de:slub-dresden:db:id-1780948042-18850000
• Sammlungen: LDP: Historische Bestände der Hochschule für Grafik und Buchkunst Leipzig
• Sammlungen: Fotografie
• Bemerkung: Seite I-II fehlen in der Vorlage. Paginierfehler: Seite 160 als Seite 144 gezählt.
• Strukturtyp: Band

• Digitalisat: SLUB Dresden
• Strukturtyp: Ausgabe

March 27, 1885.J THE PHOTOGRAPHIC NEWS. 195 prominently in the sunlight. Hastings, Eastbourne, and Brighton are left behind, and by tea time on Sunday we are well out of sight of land. Our pilot leaves us very early on Monday morning off Ventnor, and we are now fairly on our way. Situated in the North Atlantic Ocean, some twelve hundred miles south of England, Madeira is a place of somewhat popular resort, both on account of the variety and beauty of its scenery, and the salubrity of its climate. Mild in winter, and on the hills cool in summer, it presents, both to the invalid and overtasked business man, a quickly- changing panorama of loveliness ; giving also a delicious sense of dreamy restfulness. The summers are, as a rule, very dry, and the autumnal rains are very welcome. Under the shade of a Spanish chestnut tree one can live out of doors nearly the whole of a summer’s day, the even ing being the most suitable for riding or driving. On the hills the yellow gorse grows in profusion, and in the clefts of the rocks are found many varieties of beautiful ferns and mosses, some of the ferns reaching twelve feet in height. Flowers of both the tropical and temperate zones are successfully cultivated here. In the open air in summer are bignonias, stephanotis, and other plants that reach perfection only under a tropical sun. I n the autumn, Camelias, and brilliant tropical plants and creepers, make all nature radiant, and winter brings in great abundance sweet-scented violets, arum lilies, and daffodils. The day before landing I had overhauled my photo graphic kit, and filled my slides with plates. My appar atus consists of a 12 by 10 tourist’s camera, with three double backs, and a half-plate ditto, also with three double backs, and partitioned casts for cameras and slides. One strong folding tripod I found sufficient, and my lenses are a Dallmeyer's 12 by 10 rapid rectilinear, an 8, by 6} and 5 by 4 ditto, and an 8 by 5 wide angle rectilinear. I started with about 150 plates of various sizes, with all trays and requisites for developing, varnishing, and printing, even to a tank with tap, rubber tube, and rose, and a wooden sink about 16 by 14, with rubber waste pipe attached, in the expectation that I could have the use of a cabin on board ; but the ship was full, some intending passengers, indeed, being unable to be taken. My own cabin was so small and filled with my belongings that I could not utilize that, even if I wished to do so. I did fix two or three negatives in my cabin, but the vessel rolled so much, even in the calm sea, that, though I balanced the dish in my hand, spilling some of the soda solution was unavoidable. I filled the slides under the bed-clothes of my berth. I cannot recommend that plan, at least noton board a rolling ship in the tropics ; as, though the plates were quite free from fog, dust was peppered down on to them, and, owing to the narrowness of the bunk, it was impossible to work with any degree of comfort. At eight on the morning of February 3rd, Funchal looked lovely in the bright sunshine, the peaks of the hills in the background capped with light fleecy clouds, and broadmasses of colour enlivening the foreground ; the sea calm, and lively with shore boats. I tried two 12 by 10 plates from the bridge of the vessel, one with the 8} by 6} rectilinear, the other with the 12 by 10, both with drop- shutters, but in neither are the houses quite sharp, owing to the roll of the vessel. The 8} by 6} lens covers a 12 by 10 up to the edge, and is a capital lens to embrace a wide angle. After a somewhat hurried breakfast we went ashore in the native surf boats, the ship’s boats being unsuitable for landing on the open pebbly beach. As the surf boat nears the shore it is turned stem on, and taking advantage of an incoming wave, is hauled swiftly and bodily up the beach by some half dozen men. At stem and stein are high curved posts, of great assistance in landing. The descent into the Little Curral is picturesque in the extreme ; but the path is narrow and precipitous, and the foothold for horses very loose. On one side the forest clad hill towered above us, on the other an almost perpen dicular precipice yawned beneath. Some of our party preferred to walk down the dangerous-looking paths, but the little horses are extremely sure-footed, and we met with not a single mishap. We were astonished to find that none of the horses we examined had broken knees, so steep and slippery seemed the roads. At the bottom of the Little Curral is a bridge which I wished to photo graph, but our party wishing to get back to the hotel by luncheon time, and not caring to be left behind alone, I was obliged to give up the attempt. By the way, if you wish to secure any good photographs, don’t go with a party; their notions of the fitness of things are not the same as yours, and they either begrudge the necessary time, or wish to place themselves in the foreground of the pictures. Go alone, and you can take what you like when you like. From the Little Curral we ascended to the Mount Church, the interior of which we inspected. This Church is nearly 2,000 feet above the sea. The original church was built in 1170, and dedicated to the Assumption. The only things worth seeing were the silver hanging lamps: the altars were simply masses of tinsel and coloured paper. The wooden ceiling is painted in a curious manner. The view from the Church steps is open and extensive. The subject of my next exposure was a somewhat hand some fountain in a square, after which I did successively a surf boat with its curious heavy oars, and a bullock car, used for carrying freight only. There is a plethora of subjects for the camera in Madeira, but they need as much time to do them justice as in less favoured lands. No one can expect to churn out a series of pictures in Madeira, any more than anywhere else, and I soon found that plentiful as subjects were, some time and a considerable amount of judgment were necessary in choosing them ; and to secure a fairly representative series, two months would be required, instead of our short two days. I sent my camera to the hotel at about four o’clock, and mounting my horse, soon left the town behind, and enjoyed a good canter of some miles on the shady, soft New Road. How enjoyable that canter was—such a change from the stuffiness and circumscribed exercise of the ship! On one side the descending cliffs and surf-beaten strand ; on the other, the cool green hills and waterfalls ; and above, the clear blue sky. Such a sense of careless freedom and in creased breathing power, added materially to one’s stock of health. After the confinement of the vessel, the hotel seemed so neat and airv, and clear, with, as it seemed to us, a strange absence of heavy curtains and stores. Here, five short days’ sail only from England, we, lightly clad, were enjoy ing outdoors in the beginning of February, the coolness of the evening, while those at home were piling on the coal to raise the temperature to anything like a habitable degree. It was late when we went to bed, and we appreciated those beds at their full value ; I, for one, revelled in the ample width and absolute stillness ; no danger of rolling or being pitched out in one’s sleep, or of harming some article of wearing apparel, pitched, by an extra lurch, un expectedly in one’s face. I was up betimesin the morning, but many others were before me, for we were to make an excursion to Ribeiro Frio, and as it was a three hours’ride an early start was a necessity. It was half-past eight ere we started, and commenced our ascent. Favoured with true Madeira weather, as we rose above Funchal the ride was picturesque in the extreme. At every step we passed something worthy of being perpetuated by me camera: now a woman, clad in bright colours, washing her linen at one of the roadside streams abounding in Madeira ; now a clump of sugar canes and thickly-clustering oranges, or banging bananas; now white houses, with their miniature balconies covered