All collectors have dreams -- dreams
of
adventure and discovery. Some collectors follow their dreams only briefly, but for others they are
the basis of a life-long pursuit. My friend Howard and I know much about such
dreams.
Howard and I first met over twenty years ago. Because of
our similar nature and love of collecting we grew close over the years. We came to understand
that a shared interest and combined effort will often produce insights which may lead to
remarkable discoveries.
As we were becoming acquainted in the early nineteen
seventies many long forgotten objects were beginning to pour from countless attics and
basements.
This opulent debris of a dying past, as Howard referred to it, flowed into antique shops and flea
markets where it began to fuel a national collecting mania.
Our own collecting passion in those days centered on
the beginning of photography in the year 1839. We both had read a book titled, Photography
and the American Scene, by Robert Taft. This book was exceptionally absorbing as it laid
out
the development and course of the great and important art of recording visual images. The first
few chapters, however, were the ones that engaged our minds most profoundly. Those chapters
described how a Frenchman named Daguerre had tediously and miraculously discovered the
unknown process of photography and astonished everyone with the first photo realistic pictures.
Also, it detailed how the process had been made known to the world and imported to the United
States, where early practitioners such as Dr. John William Draper and Samuel F. B. Morse, famed
inventor of the telegraph, took up the process and turned its rudiments into a beautiful and viable
art.
The book filled our imaginations with vivid images of
those
early days -- the arrival in New York of the steamship carrying the details of the first
photographic
process, the university building where Dr. Draper and Professor Morse first carried out their
experiments, the first photographs they made of the nearby Unitarian church, Dr. Draper's first
attempt to photograph his flour covered assistant, and the glass house that was built on the roof
of
the university for taking pictures.
All events in the history of a subject lie somewhere along
an evolving course of development. For many, however, it is always the first events that are the
most intriguing and significant.
Our imaginations were fired when we looked upon a
portrait in Taft's book of Miss Dorothy Catherine Draper. This photo had been taken by her
brother John William Draper, and had long been considered the earliest surviving photograph of a
human being. For well over a century, billions upon billions of photographs had been made of
dutiful fathers, loving mothers, children, brothers, and sisters, but of all of them -- this was the
earliest. The holy grail could not have held more power over our minds.
The first photos, called daguerreotypes, were placed in
gold gilded frames under glass and inserted into leather cases lined with red silk. These early
images were truly beautiful. As is often the case, the early productions of a new art are specially
prized and made gorgeous.
Howard and I realized that the time was ripe for collecting
these daguerreotypes and exploring the early history of photography. Printed books, for instance,
had been collected for hundreds of years. Early books, termed 'incunabula,' had been considered
priceless for over a century. Now here was photography, standing on a similar level with the
invention of printing, and its early artifacts still lay tucked away in attics and sock drawers. What
possibilities!
We found these early daguerreotypes everywhere.
Antique
shops, flea markets, auctions, and yard sales yielded them up. Obviously, the photographic art
had
spread rapidly after its inception. Almost everyone must have had a portrait made. Then as now,
it gave people a link with immortality, something for loved ones and posterity to hang on
to.
It soon became apparent to us, however, that as
collectibles, these images varied widely in desirability. We began to look for historically
important daguerreotypes, those signed by photographic artists, those of unusual events, and
those
that were esthetically pleasing. Always present in our mind, however, was that class of image that
would push our collecting envelope nearer and nearer to the magnificent and revered image of
Dorothy Catherine Draper.
One morning at a local flea market in Roanoke, Virginia,
Howard approached me with an image he had just acquired. It was a full length view of three
people. Two young girls and a young man, finely dressed, were frozen in the image.
"What do you think of this, Robert?"
"My God, Howard, one of the girls has hers
eyes closed. The only other one like that we've seen is the image in Taft"
"The girl in the middle looks like Dorothy Catherine,
doesn't she?"
"Yes"
The girl had her eyes closed for a good reason. The
exposure time necessary for making the first images was quite long and sitters were often posed
facing directly into the sun in order to obtain as much light as possible. Some early sitters
tried to remedy the discomfort by closing their eyes. Draper solved this problem quickly, so there
are only a few of these photographs in existence. The one in Howard's hand was one of these
images. Howard put his prize away and never forgot it.
Time passed. Howard left his job as a history teacher to
pursue his real interests as a full time dealer in historical photographs and paper. My
interests began to broaden, also. First I was drawn to the cameras that made the early images,
then
to an almost endless variety of items that kept rolling down the mountain of opulent
debris.
As the years slipped by I would see Howard occasionally
and as always we would become deeply involved in conversation. Time stood still as we
discussed history, philosophy, collecting, and life experience. Our conversations would always
center on the same themes, but somehow all would be different. They became more complex and
more imaginative. We always surprised each other with our most recent philosophical or
collecting discoveries.
One afternoon nearly fifteen years after our early
collecting
efforts I visited Howard in his shop. Howard surprised me this time with an exceptionally
interesting discovery. I had not thought much about early photography for some time and had
forgotten a lot that we had known and formerly discussed. Yet when he produced a small
wooden
box, and opened the lid to reveal several small daguerreotypes, I was delighted.
Despite the vast array of daguerreotypes and related items
that Howard and I had found over the years, neither of us had seen anything like the small box or
its contents. The box had a hinged lid and was finely crafted. Inside were several silver plates
inserted into groves in the sides of the box. Several plates were shadowy and indistinct, but four
were very clear and contained images of different men. The clothing of the men was exceptionally
early and very refined. One image, made outdoors, was of a very distinguished gentlemen
standing
erect with his eyes closed. Another gentleman was seated next to a stand full of potted plants and
held a pen in his hand. Another looked very aristocratic and sat in an artistic poise with his hand
supporting his chin.
"Howard, they're unbelievable. Primitive, yet
accomplished. They have to be very early. Do you have any idea who or where they
are"
"None whatsoever. Obviously, they're an early group of
experimenters....... very soon after Daguerre's announcement"
"If only they could talk. Wouldn't it be fantastic to know
who they are? They must be important. This one looks like Franklin Pierce."
"You think it could be? There's no way we can ever really
know. I'm going to continue to research them though."
"You know, they look like college professors."
We speculated a little more on the futility of knowing
more
about them, then closed the box, concluding that they must certainly be the earliest
daguerreotypes
we had ever seen.
Several months passed. Howard and I had arrived
independently at the great Hillsville, Virginia flea market and gun show. I knew he was there and
I
looked forward to talking with him. As I looked around I hoped to find something interesting
that
might generate a topic of discussion. On one dealer's table I picked up an old elaborately bound
book printed in 1850. It was a book published by a father in memory of his son. It contained
poetry and essays written by the son. I later discovered that this son had been extremely gifted
and
had committed suicide at an early age. On the flyleaf of the book was inscribed the words, 'To my
friend, from the publisher, Martin Paine.' A biographical dictionary revealed that Martin Paine
had been a notable professor of medicine at the University of the City of New York in the mid
1800's.
I had long forgotten the relationship of the University of
the
City of New York to the early days of photography, so I did not think the book would be of
interest
to Howard. Yet for some reason, finding the book had elevated my spirits and filled me with a
sense of expectancy. When I found Howard, I was very excited and remember babbling to him
about possibilities and making quantum leaps in significant discoveries. Howard remained poised
and listened patiently as usual. I did not mention the book.
This was over the Labor Day weekend and I had an
appointment the following week with the curator of the Kansas State Historical Society. I had
found some interesting letters related to Kansas and was to show them to the curator at the
annual
conference of the American Association for State and Local History being held in Washington
D.C. I thought Howard might enjoy the conference and I invited him to come along. He agreed,
but since it was my plan to continue on to New England, we decided to take two cars.
In a few days we were driving up the beautiful
Shenendoah
Valley of Virginia on our way to Washington. Howard had given me a Mozart audio tape and as
I
listened to it the combination of the scenery and the music elevated my spirits and filled me with
joy. We would stop occasionally at some antique shop, look around and then proceed. After
about three hours we came to a shop that was closed. Here we sat in my van directly facing the
shop while we discussed Mozart, collecting, and destiny.
Finally we arrived at the hotel where the convention was
taking place and found the curator. Another lady accompanied her that she introduced as the
director of the photographic collection of the society. This was a surprise, but as I introduced
Howard it was apparent that he was rather excited at the prospect of discussing the photographic
collection in Kansas.
As I showed the letters to the curator, Howard and the
other
lady sat to one side, and discussed the Kansas photo collection. I could only pick up pieces of
their conversation, but I distinctly heard the words 'Draper' and 'papers.'
There was not much interest in my Kansas letters and the
meeting ended rather quickly. Howard and I walked outside.
"Howard, did I hear the lady say they have Draper's
papers
out in Kansas?"
"No. Nothing as great as that. They have the papers of
Robert Taft who wrote Photography and the American Scene. Taft was a chemistry
professor in Kansas and left them his papers at his death, but get this -- Taft had in his possession
the Dorothy Catherine Draper daguerreotype when he died and they have it! Taft had obtained it
from the Herschel family in England when he was researching his book back in the thirties. I'm
going to make a trip to look at it."
"Amazing. Did anyone know where it was?"
"Not really"
After recovering from my astonishment we looked around
Washington that day and lodged at a motel that night where we kept up our philosophical
discussions into the wee hours of the morning. The next day we parted company and I headed for
Brimfield Massachusetts, the great collecting Mecca for thousands of antique
enthusiasts.
At Brimfield I moved around rather aimlessly, still
ruminating on the fact that Howard had discovered the location of our beloved daguerreotype. It
seemed to me almost an impossibility. Yet I supposed that it was within the bounds of reason. It
sure seemed to give our trip validity.
As I walked past the tables I was not looking for anything
in
particular, but hoped to find something interesting. Finally I came upon a table of old books, a
sight which had always drawn my attention. As I looked through the books I picked up one on
patent office applications published in 1840. Looking through it I came upon Samuel Morse's
application for the telegraph. This is interesting I thought and purchased the book. Examining a
few more books I picked up a bound child's magazine from the 1840's. Thumbing through it an
engraving of Morse appeared. I was startled not only by the fact of just having seen Morse's
patent
application, but also by the appearance of Morse in the engraving. It was not the Morse I knew.
This was a young Morse, clean shaven, no rows of medals pinned to his chest. If the picture had
not been labeled I would not have had the slightest idea that this was the great and mighty
inventor,
father of mass communication and one of the most important figures of the modern world. I
purchased this book also.
I found nothing more of note, but kept looking as the day
gave way to night. My thoughts on the Washington meeting had now been replaced by Samuel
Morse, and the course of nineteenth century invention. This topic represented a wider category
than my interest in early photography and I considered the possibility that if I broadened my
approach, rich collecting opportunities might present themselves. It was early morning now and I
could not sleep, so I decided to head down the road toward Virginia.
It was in the afternoon when I arrived at the shop where
we
had stopped a few days earlier. This shop along with others in a nearby antique complex was now
open. Although I had not slept in quite awhile and was tired, I decided to examine all the shops.
I
talked through them in a mindless state. Disappointed that nothing of even the remotest interest
was to be seen, I entered the last shop, the one that had previously been closed. An older
gentleman was behind a counter fixing himself a sandwich. I walked around, but nothing caught
my
eye. I noted that this was not even an antique shop, but rather a thrift shop. As I headed for the
door, the gentleman spoke to me.
"Do you have any particular interests?"
Remembering my thoughts from last night I
answered.
"Yes. I'm interested in 19th century science.
Samuel Morse and the telegraph and that sort of thing"
If I live to be a hundred I know I will never be more
startled by a reply than the one I was about to hear. I could not have been more jarred if a lighting
bolt was to strike me. Perhaps one did. If so, it was the weaker of two that were going to strike
that
evening. I can now see that the heavens were beginning to crack and the normal laws of causality
were changing.
The gentleman continued.
" Wow. I've got something for you. I've
had it for twenty years. When I was an antique dealer in Westchester County, New York, an old
estate was cleaned out and I got the remains. These items were found in a barn."
He reached under the counter and withdrew
a cardboard box and placed it on the counter.
" These are the journals, photographs; and other items
which belonged to Dr. John Draper"
I stood frozen, speechless. I managed to
gaze down into the box.
There indeed was a pile of old scientific journals. The
one on top had a name scrawled on it, Dr. John Draper, Chestnut St.. Reluctantly I picked it up
because I felt that any move on my part might make the whole box disappear. Inside was one of
Dr. Draper's articles on plants, filled with his own handwritten corrections and notations. I picked
up several paper photographs and recognized among them a middle aged Dorothy Catherine.
There was a group of checks, one made out to Edward Anthony.
The man kept talking.
"He was a great scientist -- did incredible things. There
was also a pack of talbotypes but I accidentally threw them away. I still have the big glass lenses
which came with this stuff though."
I finally managed to speak.
"Have you shown this to anyone?"
"Yeah. I took it down to New York to the museum, but
they
were not interested. They tried to keep the daguerreotype of the moon I left with them. But I got
it
back. A photographic dealer came up from New York and bought the daguerreotype and
eyeglasses."
Although my recollection becomes somewhat dim at this
point I am sure that the dealer and I arrived at a price, I paid for the material and carried it to my
van.
There I sat, vacantly staring out the window. My
thoughts
were confused. How was it possible after all these years to have actually found books and papers
that belonged to Dr. Draper? Only a few days before he had magically been revived to us and we
had learned of the whereabouts of his precious Dorothy Catherine daguerreotype.
I puzzled over Draper's connection with Morse and how
Morse had served as a catalyze for my reply to the dealer. The dealer said he had the material for
twenty years -- it was almost as if he had been there all that time, waiting for me to come and say
the magic words. I had often wondered what Dorothy Catherine looked like in later life and here
I
sat with original pictures of her beside me. In our remotest fantasies we could not have dreamed
of such events. It was too much for a mortal to comprehend.
I had been two days without sleep and now I had been
struck by lightning. Although I was catatonic, I felt a remote possibility of recovery. Howard lived
only a few hours away. Rest could wait.
It was well after dark when I arrived at Howard's. I
carried the cardboard box to the front door and knocked. Howard let me in and we went to the
living room and sat on the couch. I am not sure how, but I managed to relate to Howard what
had
occurred. Howard, remained calm and began to examine the contents of the box. After a
moment
he suggested that we go downtown to his shop. If he had suggested we go to the moon I would
have followed.
A little while later we were sitting in Howard's antique
shop between walls lined with old photos, Civil War memorabilia, books, and documents. He sat
at his desk, I sat beside him. Again he began to pour over the contents of the cardboard box.
Several minutes passed. We kept talking and the word 'Draper' must have been spoken a dozen
times.
Suddenly I had a thought.
"Howard, it occurs to me that I don't remember what
Draper looked like. Do we have a picture.?"
Howard reached for a book. I was about to be struck by
lightning for the second time.
Howard placed in my hands a familiar object. It was
Taft's
Photography and the American Scene. He had opened it to a page where there was a
photograph of a short, squat man, with a ponderous head, covered by thinning black hair.
I did not remember this photo from so many years ago.
Immediately, however, I had the feeling of having seen this head and physique in the not to distant
past. The universal distortion that had begun a few hours before was now nearing
completion.
"Howard, may I see your book of photos with the copy of
the early plate box images?"
Howard placed in my hands a large notebook of his
collection that contained reproductions of the early images that had so intrigued us months before.
I
flipped through the pages until I located them. My gaze fell upon the photo of the man seated
next to
the plants.
My mouth fell open, but I did not speak..
Howard said, "No!"
I still did not speak, but could only nod.
Howard pointed to the image of the artistically poised
man.
"And is this Morse?"
My mind reeled. The engraving I had seen of Morse only
yesterday immediately came to mind. Once again I could only nod. For the first time ever I saw
Howard lose his composure.
Howard uttered under his breath,
"Are we dead?"
I replied.
"I don't know"
For over twenty years we had been pursuing this matter.
Dr. Draper and Morse had both written
of their early photographic experiments. It was supposed that any photographs resulting from
their
work had been lost or perished over a hundred years ago -- and yet, here Howard and I sat with
the precious images before us. Daguerre's process had been too slow to photograph living
subjects until Draper had improved it. These photographs, of the important men involved, were
the first in the world to be made of human beings -- no one would ever be able to view a more
exact scene of an earlier time or human face. The significance of it all seemed almost impossible
to grasp or bear. We were looking at a world class treasure!
We were out of our seats now aimlessly wandering around
the room. We were not elated -- we were in a state of shock -- staggered not only by the images
but
by the impossible sequence of events that had led to their recognition. We were both nearly
incoherent but Howard, correctly, tried to avoid jumping to conclusions and resisted the
overwhelming idea of what the images represented.
Somehow I made it home. I was addled for days, but
managed to meet soon with Howard at Virginia Tech. I remember that I felt like Indiana Jones as
we walked into the library that day and located a book on the history of the University of the City
of New York.
Looking through the book, we found a photo of professor
Theodore Freylinghusen, president of the University of the City of New York in 1839. Clearly he
was the gentleman with his eyes closed from the plate box. Another photo in the book portrayed
professor Martin Paine, the same person who had published the old book I had recently purchased
at Hillsville. Paine appeared to be the remaining man from the plate box.
Howard and I now knew that the images were, beyond a
reasonable doubt, what we had thought them to be. At the same time we realized that without
absolute proof we would be helpless in the face of the mountainous skepticism which such a claim
would surely evoke....of all the billions of photographs taken in the last 160 years Howard and I
had found the first made of living beings ... lost over all those years... and to add to the incredible
discovery, one was Samuel Morse!
(This ends this part of the narrative but, hopefully, not the
story. These events transpired nearly ten years ago. Howard and I are still the only ones who
really know of the existence of or have seen the images. The conclusion of this story would show
how Francis Bacon, Edgar Allen Poe, Samuel Colt, Thomas Edison, Carl Jung, the Smithsonian
Institution, the George Eastman House, New York University, the FBI, the Civil War, the
intellectual history of the world, modern science and the Big Bang theory of the universe, are
related to the story and the little plate box..... however, should the universe crack and the normal
laws of causality change again, then there may be neither method nor need to explain, prove or
conclude.....)