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436 THE PHOTOGRAPHIC NEWS. [September 12,1862. the Minute Book, but by mistake not copied into the List of Awards, have been added. Not a single instance, however, occurs of any new award having been made. L. P. MEDAL. United Kingdom. Name of Exhibitor. Objects Rewarded and Reasons for the Award. Caldesi, L For a valuable series of large photographs of (Instead of Colnaghi & Co.) antiquities, copies of cartoons, miniatures, &c. Ross, T.... For the excellence of his photographic lenses (instead of for the superiority of his pho tographic lenses). New South Wales. Dalton, E (omitted before) Freeman, Bros. (omitted before) ... For excellent photographic portraits of the aborigines. ... For an excellent collection of photographs. France. Duriette and Romanet ... Photographs. For excellent architectural (Name before misspelled.) views of Amiens cathedral. HONOURABLE MENTION. United Kingdom. Joubert, F For photography on glass in vitrifiable (omitted before) colours. Macdonald, Sir A. K., Bart.... For excellence of landscape photographs. (omitted before. The adja cent number, that of F. S. Beatty, receiving the award in error). New South Wales. Gale, F. B (omitted before). Hetzer (omitted before) Wingate, Major ... (omitted before) ... For portraits of aborigines on glass. ... For excellent photography, especially his studies of trees. ... For his panoramic view in the colony. South Australia. Camfield, Mrs. Ethnological studies of the aborigines. (In place of Rev. — Hall.) Gaillard, P. (omitted before) Mathieu-Plessy (omitted before) Carleman, C. V. G. (omitted before) France. ... For excellent landscape photography. ... For excellence of photographic chemicals. Sweden. ... For general excellence of photographs. Sprosser, Wurtemburg, and an Exhibitor not identified, in the Zollverein, are now struck out. THE INUNDATION IN THE FENS FROM A PHOTOGRAPHIC POINT OF VIEW* To sit tamely in the boat, and endure all the fury of the relentless elements, was no part of our programme, there fore one of our crew jumped overboard, for the water was not up to the knee, and our united efforts proved successful, and the boat was soon over the road and into deeper water again. We had scarcely got fairly on our way again when a long and reiterated peal of thunder gave us fair warning to look out for squalls. Peal after peal followed, each one growing louder, and on glancing round, for I was at the oar and had my back turned to the wind, I saw at once that the storm would be of unusual fury. The view at this moment was one of the grandest it has ever been my lot to witness, and though it cost me a thorough drenching, I still consider it cheap at the price. In the direction of the storm, which was now not half a mile off, nothing was to be seen; a black curtain of whirl wind, and hail, and rain, with an occasional fringe of lightning, shut out everything beyond; but in front of us, far away, was an opening in the gloom, through which could be seen but a glimpse of the glorious weather now so far away. This little aperture was now the only source of light, and was right out in the horizon, and the waves in conse quence presented an appearance indescribable. Their crests were of silver whiteness, but the hollows were black as ink, and this extraordinary contrast gave to the water a solidity I had never seen before. Could the camera have snatched * Concluded from p. 425, the scene at this moment with lightning rapidity, so as to retain the crispness of the waves, the picture would have, strongly resembled a newly-ploughed field with the tops of the furrows tipped with snow. In a few moments the whole scene was changed. The last glimpse of fine weather was shut out from us, and gloom and murkiness hemmed us in all round. A cold shiver swept over the scene, as though all nature shuddered at the coming crash, and down came the storm in an avalanche of fury. Rain, hail, and lightning shooting out a hundred forked darts all around us, each one, possibly, on an errand of death and destruction, whilst the thunder not only deafened us, but gave forth a grating, crashing, rasping sound, as though the whole universe was split into fragments. In much less time than it has taken me to describe I was wet to the skin, not only so, but my boots were filled with water. At one moment I really thought our skulls—I mean our heads, not the oars—would be beaten in by the solid pieces of ice that came pelting down upon us. The boatmen and I pulled with all our might, but we were powerless, for the fury of the waves had driven us back again upon the road. Our companionshad disappeared. They had collapsed in the most mysterious manner, and were safely stowed away under the seats in the stern, and buried under great coats. After shouting for some time, for we wanted help, and I was anxious that they should see something of the awful sublimity of the scene around us, a white face, with eyes dilated by terror, peeped out from under the cover ing, but an unusually large piece of ice maliciously hit him at the identical moment upon the nose, and he disappeared once more. In ten minutes the whole scene was again changed. The storm was off on its mission of destruction to other parts, and we were left with hearts thankful that we had passed through it all, and were scatheless. Our companions once more resumed their proper proportions, and we were soon on our way rejoicing. There was no possibility of drying our clothes, so we kept to the oars, and as the sun shone out once more with more than usual brightness, we hoped, with its genial influence, aided by the fiery ardour that burns in the breast of all enthusiastic photographers—and we were enthusiasts—and assisted also by a S.W. wind, which was blowing quite bracingly, that by the time we had bagged our pictures and had packed up, our clothes would retain but little trace of the soaking they received, but would have resumed their normal condition. We were by this time near the Mission House, a church establishment, having schools combined with a place of wor ship, all under one roof. The group of buildings would have furnished a picturesque subject, but there was not a spot of dry, land really available for our operations. There was one of the many tunnel bridges, so plentiful in the fen district, just peeping above the water, but it was much too close. This quiet spot, usually so trim and pretty, with its neatly-kept little farm establishment, was now forlorn and melancholy. No piping voice chirpingout the childish hymn came fro' 11 the open door. Nothing but strife and contention was to be seen within. The sullen waters were angrily tossing the seat about, for they were all afloat and helpless. Our boatman, pointing to the flag-staff—for in these parts, where the houses are so widely scattered, they do not em ploy a bell to call the rustic congregation together, but hois a flag for a summons—said, with a contemptuous jerk of the head, “There’s a pretty thing to call a flag-pole. Now, when they were going to put it up, the parson came to "6! and ax’d me about it, for he know'd I knew summut abou these things. I told him, if he left it to me, I would 2128 put up the right thing, and make it all taut and squares' ’ but arter he got all he wanted to know, he went and di hisself, and a pretty job he’s made of it. No, I reckon i • shame to call it a flag-pole. It’s only just a tree strip] stark naked.” After laughing heartily at his «n hOur simile, we started on our voyage again, and in hall an reached the Middle Level bank, at our old point ot P tions.