Joseph Israel Solomon, 1803-1890
microphotographer “J.S.-gothic”
microphotographer "Handwritten, pink labels"
by Brian Stevenson
last updated June, 2022
Victorian-era microphotograph slides are occasionally encountered that bear the initials “J.S.”, with descriptions of the photographs printed in a gothic font (“J.S.-gothic”) (Figures 1 and 2). These are distinctly different from the microphotograph slides of John C. Stovin, whose labels sometimes contain his initials as “J.S.” (for comparison, please see the illustrated essay about J.C. Stovin on this site).
A slide by “J.S.-gothic” has come to light that connects these slides to Joseph Solomon (Figure 1), a London supplier of photographic and other optical equipment and sundries.
Solomon’s microphotograph labels are very similar to those of Henry West (whose biography can also be seen on this site). Microphotograph slides with similar, unsigned labels are also seen on occasion, and may have been produced by Solomon, West, or another, unidentified photographer. Examples of those unsigned microphotographs are shown in Figure 3.
An 1863 instructional pamphlet / catalogue from Solomon, entitled Photographic Wrinkles, Remedies, and Recipes, included a numbered list of microphotographs (Figure 4). The numbers and descriptions match all known microphotographs by an unknown maker with initials "H.J.B.". The descriptions do not match any microphotographs labeled “J.S.”. Thus, at different times, Solomon evidently sold slides with his own initials and those of another photographer.
Figure 1.
A microphotograph slide connecting “J.S.-gothic” to Joseph Solomon. The picture is of a “bank post bill” in the value of £300, from J. Solomon to J. Mayer, and dated September 6, 1861. The recipient may have Joseph Mayer (1803-1886), of Liverpool, a wealthy goldsmith/jeweler and art collector. Shown below the microphotograph is a slide with the same image, but bearing a pink label with a handwritten description. Other microphotograph slides are known that have similar labels and handwriting - based upon the slide shown here, they can also be attributed to Joseph Solomon (four additional examples are shown below in Figure 2B).
 
Figure 2A.
Additional microphotograph slides by J. Solomon, with gothic type and his "J.S." initials. Prince Alfred was the second son of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. The photograph in the top slide was produced from an 1860 engraving made by D.J. Pound, from an earlier photograph by J. Mayall. A copy of Mayall's photograph was used to make the second slide. The cartoon, “A glimpse of the future”, was drawn by John Tenniel and published in ‘Punch’ on April 7, 1860.
 
Figure 2B.
Microphotograph slides attributed to J. Solomon, with handwritten descriptions on pink labels (see Figure 1). Prince Alfred Edward (later King Edward VII) was enaged to Princess Alexandra of Denmark (later Queen Alexandra) in 1862. The top image is from a photograph from the royal couple's engagement announcement.
 
 
 
Figure 4.
List of microphotograph slides from Photographic Wrinkles, Remedies, and Recipes, by Joseph Solomon, 1863. The numbers and titles match the known microphotographs of "H.J.B.".
 
Joseph Israel Solomon left behind two autobiographical documents: an 1887 essay of “Reflections of early days in photography”, and “Records”, apparently written just before his death. The whole of Solomon’s “Reflections…”, is included toward the end of this essay. Solomon used the name “Joseph Solomon” or “Joseph Israel Solomon” during his dealings in England, but appears to have gone by “Israel Solomon” after moving to the USA. Numerous documents indicate that these were all names of the same man.
Frank Schechter published the following summary and excerpt from Solomon’s “Records”, “Israel Solomon was born in Falmouth, England, on August 28, 1803. With the exception of a year's sojourn in Lisbon, about 1819, when his father died, and of several years spent in Paris, he resided in England until June, 1881, when, as a hale and hearty pilgrim of seventy-eight, he sailed for New York there to spend the evening of his life with his brother, Barnet L. Solomon. He died at Cornwall-on-the-Hudson, N.Y., on September 2, 1890. The reason for his failure to accompany his brother to New York in his youth, is told with characteristic candour and simplicity:
My mother died in the early part of 1832, at Bristol, to which city we came from Falmouth, and in Bristol I carried on a retail silver and jewelry trade, combined with pawnbroking. My brother Barnet was there apprenticed to the cabinet and upholstery business. After the death of my mother, we broke up our residence and business in Bristol, with the intention of emigrating to Australia, but by the advice of our cousin Benedict Joseph, we determined to go to New York and in that year, 1832, our business transactions in England were almost completed, so that my brother and the late Benedict Joseph went down to Liverpool to secure three berths on a clipper ship sailing to New York, leaving me in London to close up all business left unfinished. Upon their arrival in Liverpool, the government had issued an order that all passenger ships must have a doctor on board, and on this account the price of passage would be increased five pounds for each passenger. To save the ten pounds that would have cost them had they waited for me, they started for America without me. When I arrived at Liverpool with the intention of following them, my cousin Barnet Joseph advised me to go to Paris and become agent or commissioner for purchasing French manufactured articles to send to England. His arguments being strengthened by an acquaintance of mine, one Behrends, I followed his advice, and on the saving of ten pounds passage money, all my future depended, until I abandoned England forever in June 1881”.
The 1835 London register of voters lists Joseph Solomon as living at 22 Red Lion Square, in the Finsbury/Holborn area. The 1851 census recorded Solomon at that same address, working as an “agent for the sale of French Manufacturers”. He evidently spent much of the intervening time in Paris, following his cousin’s advice. His wife, Caroline, was Parisian, as were also their two children. Daughter Isabelle (“Bella”) was born in Paris ca. 1840, and son Isaac was born there ca. 1846. From these records, and the retention of the Red Lion Square address, it appears that Joseph moved back-and-forth between London and Paris.
While living in Paris, in 1840, Solomon began dabbling in photography. He wrote in “Recollections”, “About the year 1840, I purchased, in company with my brother-in-law, a portrait artist and a painter of landscapes, a set of daguerreotype apparatus from a well-known large artists' color store then in the Rue Coque St. Honored which street does no longer exist in Paris. We set out to follow, as near as possible, the written published methods to obtain a picture, but failed. I remember that to obtain the vapor of iodine on the silver plate, either before the mercury was on it or after, I placed the iodine in a small dish in the corner of a room and held the plate over it for a very tiresome time and obtained nothing but smudges instead of pictures, and I abandoned the whole thing”.
Solomon then gives some examples of his cross-Channel trade, with London manufacturer and retailer Edward Palmer (1803-1872). Of note, Palmer was master to W.H. Thornthwaite, who later bought Palmer’s business and established the optical and scientific company of Horne and Thornthwaite. Palmer sold his business in 1845 or ’46, thereby giving a date range to Solomon’s anecdotes, “I was an inhabitant of Paris for some years and then went to London to obtain orders for French manufactured articles, particularly opera glasses, and represented the manufacturer of superior opera-glasses in Paris. Palmer, a druggist, who also kept a furniture store and articles of science in Newgate Street, London, gave me orders for various articles, amongst which was a quarter portrait lens… Amongst the sundries was a bottle containing six or eight pounds of the new chemical, hyposulphite of soda. I found the manufacturer and purchased four kilos, a little over eight pounds English. I did not know the exact price, but Palmer's people had given me the liberty to pay whatever the French chemist charged. They would pay, if even beyond the English manufacturer's price in England, so I quite fulfilled their order on all they wished me to purchase for them, and I left France for England about three months after. When I arrived in London I paid duty on what I brought with me, and charged Palmer eight shillings per pound for the hypo. They then made a grand fuss and reduced their retail price to what the wholesale manufacturers were charging for it wholesale. Then the article began to find its use in the manufacture of paper, and Newcastle-on-Tyne manufacturers made it in tons, so that it was sold retail for ten shillings per barrel of 100 pounds weight”.
Solomon also counted Andrew Ross among his customers, “On my journeys between France and England, the noted optician, Andrew Ross, and his son, used to request me to bring them specimens of the then advanced position of photography on paper, and for a picture on paper about the size of the album portrait I obtained from Andrew Ross ten shillings, being very careful only to fulfill such orders for houses of eminence, because Talbot pursued by law any one infringing his patent”.
Opera glasses from France were a major part of Solomon’s business, in addition to photographic apparatus and supplies. Of these various optical devices, Solomon wrote, “The glass used in making the lenses was partly of flint and partly of crown, and the method of obtaining the specific gravity of glasses was at that time unknown to the ordinary working optician. Would it be out of place to cite an accident which occurred to a manufacturer of object lenses for opera glasses in Paris about this time: He was very neat and particular in his grinding and always turned out the best quality of opera glasses. I employed him to make for me, as a venture, one dozen quarter portrait lenses, double combination, which he thought he could do, as he happened at that time to have a stock of both crown and flint glasses perfectly adapted for this purpose. He soon made twelve of these instruments, that could not be surpassed for quickness and sharp definition. I sold them without trouble and thereafter continued to give my increasing orders. The price I placed upon these lenses was twenty shillings each, and Andrew Ross, hearing from others of this extraordinarily cheap and good lens, obtained one from me and was quite surprised to find that the lens was all that was claimed for it. I had sold up to this time about 100 of these lenses and was continuing to give my orders for them in large quantities. A batch soon arrived from Paris, however, and was tested (as every lot of lenses was before being placed upon the market), and to my surprise was found to be greatly inferior in quality to those which I had previous had from this glass grinder. I wrote to my friend and found that a great accident had happened in his shop. He kept his glasses in the cupboard; one containing all of the discs for my quarter lenses, and the other the lenses for his opera glasses. An apprentice, who had been ordered to dust each cupboard, had gone beyond his order and taken the lenses from the two clipboards, and in the confusion of dusting had mixed them so that when the workmen, who were ignorant of the quality of glasses, attempted to make the combination they used the discs recklessly, just as they happened to come, without regard to their specific gravity or other differences. The result was that I could obtain no more correctly made lenses until he had obtained from a scientific optician the specific gravity of the mixed lenses and had them placed in their proper cupboards again”.
Solomon exhibited at the London Exposition in 1851. His entry in Class 10, “Philosophical, Musical, Horological, and Surgical Instruments” was listed in the official catalogue as “Solomon, J. 22 Red Lion Sq. Manu. – Registered papier-mâché opera glasses, eye protectors, etc.”. While he was recorded as being the manufacturer, his items were almost certainly French imports.
Although he was well-acquainted with the uses of the items he sold, Solomon admitted to being u naware of the physics of optics. He wrote, “Scientific opticians were not numerous at that time, and when, in 1851, the great Universal Exhibition was held in London, I introduced Monsieur Buron, of, Paris, to Andrew Ross; but Monsieur Buron could not speak English, nor could Ross, French. I, of course, acted as interpreter, but was rather a poor one, I imagine, for shortly Monsieur Buron took a pencil and presented to Ross a paper with some geometrical curves and lines with explanatory algebraic letters inscribed thereon which Ross seemed to understand and answered by another with similar curves and lines. Both seemed pleased; but I do not know to this day what those hieroglyphic marks indicated to those two men”.
On March 28, 1860, Solomon was elected to membership in the Society of Arts.
The 1861 census record of 22 Red Lion Square reads “warehouse – no one sleeps here”. The Solomon family may have then been in France, or they may have lived elsewhere in the Lond on area. Census-takers, and later transcribers, frequently misspelled Solomon’s name, so their 1861 record may be unrecognizable to searchers. In 1870, their daughter, Isabelle, married a German émigré named Henry Oppenheim, the spelling of which completely baffled subsequent census-takers. The 1871 census recorded Joseph and Caroline living at 41 Oxford Road, Willesden, near London, along with Isabelle, her 2 month-old daughter, a nurse maid and a servant. Caroline died between 1871 and 1881.