Tiny Tintypes
The amiable lunch time poker game was breaking up as the town's residents gathered what little remained of their money in preparation for a return to more respectable ways to earn a living. The two remaining players sat back in their chairs and signaled for new beers. The black-hatted player started to stack his large pile of winnings while his blond friend watched an older man approach, the smaller but still substantial collection of coins and bills by his elbow remaining untouched for the moment.
Kid Curry quickly evaluated the appearance and demeanor of the man as he neared the table and filed the stranger as causing no immediate danger, threat to be determined. The man appeared to be in his mid to late fifties, casually dressed in good quality clothes, and with a pleasant friendly face, showing no signs of unwelcome recognition of the partners.
"Gentlemen, mind if I sit down?"
Heyes looked up from stuffing the bills and coins into his pocket and nodded. Curry pushed out a chair across from him with his foot and extended his left hand in a gesture of welcome. The stranger lowered himself into the chair and smiled genially at the two table companions.
"I've been watching the poker game for a while now."
Heyes gazed sharpened almost imperceptibly. Kid maintained his blank neutral expression while he heightened the alertness of his senses.
"Is that so? Did you want to play?" Heyes questioned, keeping his voice light.
The stranger chuckled, "No, I just enjoyed watching good poker players. And you two seemed to be good poker players, honest ones, too. I thought we could have a nice conversation over a beer or a whiskey or two. It could be a good way for us to size each other up."
Kid leaned forward, eyes searching the stranger's face. "Size each other up. That's an odd thing to say to someone you just met."
"I met no offense, young fella. Let me explain. You not from around here, are you?"
"No, we're just passing through on our way to Porterville, Wyoming. I'm Joshua Smith and my friend is Thaddeus Jones. We're stopping every now and then, making a little money on our way." Heyes replied cautiously.
"I may have a proposition for you."
Brown eyes widened slightly in interest. "What kind of proposition?"
"We're law-abiding citizens, and not interested in anything crooked or ow!" Kid stopped abruptly and glared at his partner, who was giving him a sweet smile of warning after kicking Kid's shin under the table.
Their new drinking companion watched the exchange with interest. "Let me start over. My name is Frederick Gutekunst, please call me Fred. You probably have seen my work or heard of me, although you look a might young to have been reading the newspapers during the war when I made a name for myself as a war photographer. After the war, I was commissioned to take pictures of the westward expansion and settlement, mostly either for the railroads or the Philadelphia Inquirer or made a good living doing portraiture. I'm retired now and moved out West to be near my son, although, I do keep my hand in the business every now and then."
"That's all very interesting, Fred, but what about the proposition." Heyes wanted to get the conversation back on track.
"I'm getting to that, I need two honest, able-bodied, trustworthy-looking men to help me for a couple of weeks."
Kid's and Heyes' attention slid sideways to each other for a quick moment before returning to Fred. Curry shook his head before replying, "Thanks for the offer Fred, but me and Joshua have to be in Porterville by Christmas to spend the Holiday with our friend the Sherriff. Besides, we haven't had the best of luck working for people we've met in a saloon or played poker with." A series of unfortunate employment situations, starting with a poker game after which turned deadly as the still alive players dwindled, followed by Seth and ending with a mountain of a man armed with a sharps rifle paraded past Curry's mind's eye.
"Wait a minute Thaddeus, let's hear Fred out. Help with what?"
"In the late spring to mid-summer I travel around and set up my photographer's stall at town fairs and I get a decent business in weddings and young lover's portraits. For the few weeks between Thanksgiving and Christmas I do tintypes. The tintypes are a big seller for family's and children's portraits and they make great Christmas mementos or gifts for far off relatives. They're affordable for most folks, easy to upsell on the extras, like fancy paper sleeves, gem portraits in tin Christmas ornaments or special tinted plates. I've already sent out the flyers and have a confirmed itinerary. My son was going to send two of his ranch hands to go with me but something came up. I need help to set up the booth at Christmas marts, holiday church bazars, and in the towns I visit as well someone to help drum up business and general help with the supplies, wagon, and team. The pay would be thirty dollars a week plus ten percent of gross sales, and I pay for room and board. What do you say boys? The job will end in time for you to make Porterville by Christmas."
"Thirty dollars a piece?" Heyes clarified
"Well, no, how bout twenty dollars a piece and fifteen percent of gross sales," countered Fred.
Heyes stuck his right hand out across the table. "You found yourself two helpers, Fred. Thaddeus, why don't you get us another round while we finalize the arrangements."
"Splendid, Splendid, this is good, you can tell a lot about people by how they play cards." Fred beamed at the men in front of him, noticing the satisfied look on Joshua's face and the contrasting look of consternation on Thaddeus face.
Rock Springs
The photographer and his temporary helpers could hear the congregation singing through the church hall walls as they completed their preparations. A large sign board advertising the photographer's services and prices sat on an easel along one corner wall where Heyes was arranging a table display of samples of tintypes in the sizes and styles offered as well as photo display options. There were heavy embossed fancy picture sleeves, a collection of tin ornaments, which a gem-sized portrait could be inserted, and frames of various designs, sizes, and prices. Heyes was tasked with taking the orders and being the cashier. He would also handle the scheduling of private sessions at the customers home, during the few days that they would be in Rock Springs.
Thaddeus was busy setting up the rolled backdrop stands and the selection of props and furniture that the customers could choose from to stage their tintype. He was in charge of keeping the supplies for Fred and Heyes stocked and helping where needed. He also handled the wagon and horses and arranged for their needs.
Fred mounted his regular tintype camera facing one wall and a twelve-lensed camera that could make a dozen 3⁄4-by-1-inch (19 mm × 25 mm) "gem" portraits with one exposure facing the other wall of the corner. He would be exposing and fixing the photos. A large locked trunk with danger stenciled on each of its sides sat nearby and cordoned off. The trunk contained the necessary but deadly poisonous chemicals such as potassium cyanide that were required to fix the photograph. It was all three men's responsibility to ensure no one got close to or tampered with the supplies.
The mass was over and families streamed into the hall, clutching flyers of the holiday merchants present at the Sunday Church Holiday Market. Soon the tintype corner had a nice line of customers, waiting for what was still a novelty in the West and considered a special event.
Mineral Springs
"Samuel and Jacob, quiet down and smile for the man. Betsy, Rose keep your hands to yourself and don't poke and push your brothers. Emily Ann, dear, don't cry. Mamma's right here. Children, please sit still, Mamma and Pappa want to send a nice picture to Grammy and Grandpappy. Sam, sit down!"
A harried woman was wringing her hands as she watched her brood of children fidgeting and pushing each other off the velvet bench stationed in front of a backdrop of a holiday decorated carved wood mantle and roaring fire in a large fireplace.
Fred sighed and looked around, searching for a person he didn't see. "Thaddeus?" he called out.
"Joshua, have you seen Thaddeus?"
"Last I saw he was headed back over to the hotel to get me more Bon-ton frames and tin angel ornaments. He should be back any minute."
"Ma'am, perhaps the children will be happier if you sit in the middle and put the little Emily on your lap," Fred offered a suggestion to move the session along and not keep the folks waiting in line too long.
"Oh no, I couldn't. I'm not dressed properly to take my photograph. Besides, the picture is just supposed to be of the children." The women all but wailed in despair of ever getting the boys and girls in a proper pose all at once.
Kid strode into the town hall, carrying two boxes and spotted an ever-expanding line of mothers and children, entire families, and a smattering of couples waiting for the chance to have a holiday tintype taken. He gauged the length of the line, the ages of the children waiting and thought to himself, he should have grabbed a quick snack when he was out as it looked as if dinner and a drink was some hours away.
"Thaddeus, great, you're back. Give those to Joshua and hurry over here." Fred turned to the distraught mother. "My assistant is very good with children. Don't worry we'll have a tintype in your hand in just a few minutes."
A few flashy gun twirls followed by a firm request for the boys to stay put, a full-on Curry charming smile and a gallant repositioning of Betsy and Rose on the opposite end of the velvet bench, and a game of peek-a-boo that had Emily Anne laughing in the middle, resulted in a happy and relieved customer with two tintypes instead of one. Heyes helped her choose a suitable embossed sleeve to send to the grandparents and a nice frame for her own home, at an additional cost, of course.
Clear Waters
The three Holiday photographers were following a farmer to their last appointment on the last night of the business venture. The next morning Heyes and Curry would resume their journey to spend the Holidays with Lom and Fred would return to his son's ranch. It was a profitable and uneventful few weeks for all of them.
Curry was driving the team through the late afternoon snow flurries down the tree-lined lane leading to a neat, modest farm house and yard. There was garland wrapped around the porch posts, a wreath on the front door and lit candles in every window spilling out welcoming golden light.
"We're here," announced Lou, the farmer as he dismounted in front of the barn. "Let me take care of my horse while you unload your stuff on the porch and then I'll introduce you. It'll be a nice surprise for my lovely wife."
Lou opened the door, inviting the group in. "Edith, I'm back from town and I have a surprise"
Three little girls and one small boy came running from different directions and launched themselves at their father as his wife, a plain but pleasant-looking woman, came out of the kitchen, untying her apron with a warm smile on her face. The nondescript family dog barked at the strangers before flopping down on the hearth rug and silently watched the goings on.
Lou gave each of the children a hug and his wife an affectionate kiss on the cheek before introducing the guests.
"I saw the flyer for the photographs while I was in town but it's their last day. Mr. Gutekunst and Mr. Smith said it was no problem they could come out to the farm as we're just on the outskirts of town. I thought since we never had a picture taken, it would be a nice to have one to look back on when we get old and to remember the past." Lou explained to his wife as the children were excitingly looking at the cameras and equipment Mr. Jones was lugging into the house.
"But, we're in our everyday clothes and my hair needs to be fixed and…" Edith started to protest
Lou drew his wife close and gave her a sideways hug, keeping his amused eyes on his progeny. "I don't want one of those posed photos with everyone in their Sunday best. I want to be able to look back and remember the everyday good times with my family. You're perfect the way you are and the kids never stay clean for long anyway. Now, where should we take the photo?"
Fred had the family arranged in a typical manner for them. Lou was in the wing chair, with a child on each knee, reading a book aloud. The older children lay on the floor with the family dog between them, listening to the story. And Edith sat on the sofa, knitting. It was a pleasant domestic tableau of a farm family relaxing by the fire.
The darkening night was still, the only sound was the horses clomping through the new fallen snow. Stars were blinking brilliantly in the heavens above, while ice crystals to glistened in the moonlight. A barn owl hooted and caused Curry to glance back towards the well-kept farm they left behind. The house glowed with candlelight, promising warmth and welcome. Kid remained quietly gazing behind him for several long moments before he slowed and then finally stopped the horses.
Heyes continued riding his own gelding for a time until he realized the wagon with his partner and the photographer had stopped.
Kid, not turning from the scene behind him, spoke for the first time since loading the wagon, "Fred, remember how you offered to take our pictures and Joshua and I said thanks but no thanks. We didn't have anyone we wanted to send a picture to."
"Yes, Thaddeus, I remember that conversation. Did you think of someone you'd like to give a tintype to?"
"Not exactly but I would like one. Is there enough light to take a picture of the farm we left from here?"
Fred looked thoughtful while he was gauging the light then nodded. "I could get a decent photo if I over exposed it. I certainly took pictures during the war in much worse conditions. You want me to take a photo of the family's home from this spot, can I ask why? You don't know them, do you?"
"No particular reason, it's a nice picture, and no I never met the family before."
Fred tilted his head up to look a Heyes questioningly, who shrugged back in bafflement. He didn't understand his partner's request either. "Okay, let me get set up and I'll get you your tintype"
The night before reaching Porterville
Heyes was rummaging around in Kid's saddle bags that were thrown haphazardly on the lone chair in a shabby hotel room, looking to borrow a clean pair of socks for the next day. Kid had already undressed and gotten into bed after a long day of riding followed by a long night of poker. He was halfway to sweet slumber when he became aware of Heyes' steady scrutiny.
A blue eye cracked open to find his partner holding up the tintype of a modest farmhouse on a clear winter's night. Kid closed his eye and feigned sleep, although he knew it was futile. Heyes hated mysteries and Curry's request for the tintype several nights ago was a mystery. Kid had remained mute on the subject despite several gentle probes and teasing. Knowing Heyes like he did, Kid knew Heyes wasn't going to let the matter go even though it was of no consequence to either one of them. Heyes just had to know why he wanted the photo.
"It's a reminder. The tintype is a reminder." Curry reluctantly admitted as he turned on his side and propped himself up on one elbow.
Heyes perked up, he knew he would wear the Kid down eventually. "Of what, we don't even know that family?"
Curry scooted up in bed and returned Heyes curious study with practiced indifference. "No, not that family but families in general. Heyes, for that last couple of weeks we've been giving folks something that they can hold and look at to remind themselves of their families."
"Yeah." Heyes realized where the Kid's mind was going and he dropped down into the sagging chair and suddenly wished he left well enough alone.
"Well, we have nothing left. Nothing to hold or to look at. Even my memories are hazy. Sometimes, when I think of our families, not that I do often, but sometimes when I do I can't picture their faces clearly. It was like I needed a reminder. That farmhouse kinda reminded me."
"That farm didn't look anything like your family's or mine. We didn't have a tree-lined lane. The porch was different…" Heyes' mind skittered away from painful memories.
"It wasn't the farm but the fact that the family was nothing special except to each other. The place and the people in had a sense of belonging. Did you see how happy everyone was when that farmer walked in the door just like he did every night? The woman wasn't pretty, just ordinary lookin' but he thought she was perfect just the way she was. When I look at the tintype I don't see that farm and family, I see a picture where I can remember the feeling of the past. Like candles lighting the way home and if I open the door than my family would be waiting. I can see their faces."
Kid's indifferent posture was degenerating into acute embarrassment and he braced himself for the inevitable teasing of his sentimentality. He looked up, waiting for his partner's remarks, and was surprised to see empathy in those brown eyes.
Curry braved one more thought. "It's not just a reminder of the past but a reminder of why we're running and learning to live like honest citizens, well mostly honest. It's a reminder of what a future could be. That I could have a home and family of my own, waiting just beyond that door."
There was silence for a long moment as both men sat remembering and contemplating what may lie ahead. "Never thought you'd be happy with the relentless sameness and back-breaking labor of farming." Heyes needed to break the melancholic nostalgia and he couldn't resist a slight jab at his partner.
Kid smiled. "You got that right, but I was never gonna be a farmer anyway, being the fifth of six children and the youngest boy. You on the other hand are even less of farmer material than me even though you would have inherited the farm as an only child."
Heyes had to admit to himself, the Kid had a point, he never saw himself as a farmer growing up and certainly not now. He chuckled quietly but then sobered as he caught Curry's eyes.
"You know, Kid, unless we get our amnesty for Christmas there's a good chance you're gonna lose that tintype too, left in some hotel room or on a horse we've had to ditch."
"I know that but at least I'll have something to remind me for a little while and that will have to be enough."
Notes: There is no tin in the tintype. It is a blackened iron sheet. A tintype, also known as a melainotype or ferrotype, is a photograph made by creating a direct positive on a thin sheet of metal coated with a dark lacquer or enamel and used as the support for the photographic emulsion. Because the lacquered iron support was resilient and did not need drying, a tintype could be developed and fixed and handed to the customer only a few minutes after the picture had been taken. A very underexposed negative image was produced in the emulsion. Its densest areas, corresponding to the lightest parts of the subject, appeared gray by reflected light. The areas with the least amount of silver, corresponding to the darkest areas of the subject, were essentially transparent and appeared black when seen against the dark background provided by the lacquer. The image as a whole therefore appeared to be a dull-toned positive. This ability to employ underexposed images allowed shorter exposure times to be used, a great advantage in portraiture.
To obtain as light-toned an image as possible, potassium cyanide, a very dangerous and powerful deadly poison, was normally employed as the photographic fixer. It was perhaps the most acutely hazardous of all the several highly toxic chemicals originally used in this and many other early photographic processes.
One unusual piece of tintype equipment was a twelve-lensed camera that could make a dozen 3⁄4-by-1-inch (19 mm × 25 mm) "gem" portraits with one exposure, developed in 1858. Portrait sizes ranged from gem-size to 11 in × 14 in (280 mm × 360 mm). From about 1865 to 1910, the most popular size, called "Bon-ton", ranged from 2 3⁄8 in × 3 1⁄2 in (60 mm × 89 mm) to 4 in × 5 3⁄4 in (100 mm × 150 mm).
Each tintype is usually a camera original, so the image is usually a mirror image, reversed left to right from reality. Sometimes the camera was fitted with a mirror or right-angle prism so that the end result would be right-reading.
The tintype photograph saw more uses and captured a wider variety of settings and subjects than any other photographic type. It's like the elderly grandfather that saw everything. It was introduced while the daguerreotype was still popular, though its primary competition would have been the ambrotype. Brown or 'chocolate' plates as they were known were introduced in 1870. They have a distinct hue, though some may be subtle as there were three different tints available.
The tintype saw the Civil War come and go, documenting the individual soldier and horrific battle scenes. It captured scenes from the Wild West, as it was easy to produce by itinerate photographers working out of covered wagons.
It began losing artistic and commercial ground to higher quality albumen prints on paper in the mid-1860s, yet survived for well over another 40 years, living mostly as a carnival novelty. Carnival tintypes were popular throughout the1890s. These usually show people in festive or posed settings, and may be in a colorful sleeve.
Reference:
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Frederick Gutekunst
Frederick Gutekunst (1831–1917) Leading, Pennsylvania photographer, Gutekunst opened two studios in Philadelphia in 1856. On July 9, the same day that Alexander Gardner's photographers days after the Battle of Gettysburg, the "Dean of American Photographers" produced a series seven plates of exquisite quality, including the first image of local hero John Burns. A portrait of Gen. Ulysses S. Grant stirred national interest and helped set Gutekunst apart from his contemporaries.