, 1889-08-17
BEFORE THE CAMERA.
FAMOUS WOMEN WHO ARE PHO
ToSRAPHED IN LONDON.

One finds 81 many world renowned
celebrities passing down Regent street on
a pleasant afternoon that he keeps bob
bling from one to another and often loses
all. There goes Lord TennysonI'
"Quicki h Duke of Portland was in
that carriage. wonder If that was Miss
Dallas York with himr' There goes a
carriage with royal armsI' "Oh, where?
| did not see any of them;" and so on all
the time. While 1 was trying to push to
the front a grand carriage drove up to
the sidewalk, then another and another;
a red carpet was laid down to the door;
there wasa flash of jewels; some bundles
of millinery quickly sprang out. l
glanced to the coachmen and footmen;
they all had big posies and satin ribbons
in their buttonholes. Then l knew the
real reason of the crowd. 1t WAS draw
ing room day" in Regent street. After
being presented at court the beauties
were coming to be photographed.
h London photographers usually re-
ceive nc other customers on that day.
Most of the royalists go to Wander
Weyde now. 1t is a singular fact that
Wander Weyde, with this old historic
Dutch name, is really an American, who
came to London p~enniless after the war.
AS the carriages rolled up the crowd in
creased. Several ladies in the street tried
to go up, but were repulsed by the grim
servant in livery at the door. When the
Duchess of Marlborough swept in the
excitement became tremendous and /
could stand it no longer, so L found my
self following yards and yards of black
brocatelle, tulle, lace, passementerie, jets
and feathers up the wide staircase to
the little Moorish waiting room.
The American Duchess of Marlborough
is not pretty, but she has a nne presence,
and carries herself with grace and dig
nifty, and a little self consciousness or
exalted looks, perhaps. She was dressed
in court mourning. with the magnificent
family jewels, which were once the lau-
rels of n splendid home. l thought her
dressed in the best taste of any of the
ladies in the gallery. Many portraits of
Lady Randolph Churchill hang about,
from the simple American girl in white
muslin when she first came over to the
more mature woman of the world in her
court dress. with the star of India blaz-
ing on her bosom. The magnificent
Duchess of Leinster was there, with her
head lifted like a great stag on the alert.
Her pictures do not do her Justice. She
must be seen in the flesh to appreciate
her color as well as her form.
L heard n stout lady of past 40 say:
"Oh, you naughty American boy, why
don't you make me look like Adelaide
Detchon or Dorothy Dane?' These are
two professional beauties that Wander
Weyde has made famous. A good deal
is expected from him sometimes. Most
of his pictures are taken by electric light,
and by the use of colored glass which
softens and subdues the lines of the face
and gives to tho skin of each woman its
loveliest natural color, and makes some
plain women look beautiful.
My hour lengthens to two or three,
then, when all the trains have departed.
l was taken to the studio, where the
work of the real artist is seen-one might
almost say he is a photographer only in
play, an artist in earnest, for while he
often rushes down to pose some impor-
ant person he gets back to his painting
as soon as he car, and sometimes works
until after midnight, forgetting club and
society.
We had tea from some dainty cups of
egg shell porcelain, and 1 asked him how
he became interested in photography. 1t
was by an Academia terrible accident.
He was n Seventh regiment. boy. In
the war he was captured, and was in
Libby prison for more than two years.
He was always of an inventive genius,
and could not be idle even amid the
horrors which surrounded him. While
there he conceived some inventions which
made him n fortune when he came out.
Then he spent five years in European
travel, and visited many then little ex-
plored countries. A sudden change swept
away his fortune. He was in London
and wondering what to do; chance took
him into a photographers. He was told
he could not be taken that day, it was
too foggy. Without thinking he said:
"Could not n be taken by artificial
light?' There would be a fortune for
the man who could invent one," the
clerk replied. That night he went to
work. His first idea was to collect the
rays of the sun in a gigantic burning
glass; at great expense he had one con-
structed, hollow and filed with water.
The room for experiment was in a north
light; had it been under the suns rays
the monster glass could have melted a
man to a grease spot.
One day while he was working there
came a terrific explosion, the glass
burst, he was knocked down and deluged
with water, one of the fragments pierre
ing his arm, pinned him to the floor and
severed an artery, while the blood spurt-
ed TO the ceiling. The inmates Of the
house, hearing the noise, rushed to the
room to find him senseless. He was
taken to bed and for months lay in a
raging fever. The room was locked,
and when he was at last allowed to
walk he opened the door and found the
floor scattered with fragments of glass
and the blood stain on the ceiling-the
thought of his days of wasted labor was
too much. He tainted and had n re-
lapse.
When he recovered he heard that a
new discovery had been made-the cleo
trio light. This was what he had been
searching for. He hired a poor photog-
rapher to work for him nights, and at
last perfected the invention for which
all the court beauties hank him when
drawing room day is a foggy one.
The pictures produced by it are pecu-