Five minutes past four, 14th September 1888
I have it! The first evidence of one of my celebratory hats being worn by persons hitherto unknown in one of the most obscure outposts of Her Majesty's empire.
I must confess that the production of a "photograph" still appears to me a most miraculous process, akin to alchemy. At my club, Sir Charles Weston, who dabbles in such technology himself, provided me with a detailed account of the process. Halide salts are mixed in solution with collodion and placed over a glass plate. In a "dark" room, the plate is then bathed in silver nitrate to reveal an image which captures the very soul of the person depicted. Charlie showed me one of the very latest machines - the so-called Back Focus Cone View - its cone-shaped bellows allowing for compact transportation in, say, a carriage or railway car.
The image I have received clearly reveals a member of the fairer sex, although her garb is unlike that of any respectable lady in English society. She raises her arms towards a gigantic statue, the like of which one would never see commissioned in London. It is this sheer exoticism which makes me perspire with further anticipation. Where next - and in what circumstances - may I encounter another of my hats?
I must confess that the production of a "photograph" still appears to me a most miraculous process, akin to alchemy. At my club, Sir Charles Weston, who dabbles in such technology himself, provided me with a detailed account of the process. Halide salts are mixed in solution with collodion and placed over a glass plate. In a "dark" room, the plate is then bathed in silver nitrate to reveal an image which captures the very soul of the person depicted. Charlie showed me one of the very latest machines - the so-called Back Focus Cone View - its cone-shaped bellows allowing for compact transportation in, say, a carriage or railway car.
The image I have received clearly reveals a member of the fairer sex, although her garb is unlike that of any respectable lady in English society. She raises her arms towards a gigantic statue, the like of which one would never see commissioned in London. It is this sheer exoticism which makes me perspire with further anticipation. Where next - and in what circumstances - may I encounter another of my hats?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)