Henry Tilbrook was born in Oswestry, Shropshire, in 1848912, and arrived in South Australia with
his parents on the Albemarle in 1854. He worked for a time as a compositor at the Register office
in Adelaide, then worked at the Arkaba Station in the Far North until the pastoralists were driven
out by the severe drought of 1865. On the Paratoo run he was employed as a lamb minder and
shared a one-roomed hut with three other men. ‘It had a doorway, but no door, and a window
opening, but no window.’ There was one bunk only so three of them had to curl up on the earth
floor at night. ‘Kangaroo rats ran over our prostrate forms, and perched upon us …’913
Smitten with gold fever, he went to New Zealand for two years where, having no luck on the
goldfields, he worked for the Grey River Argus at Greymouth. Henry Tilbrook was still a young
man when he returned to South Australia and in 1869, aged 21, he established the Northern Argus
newspaper in Clare, and on New Year’s Day in 1870 he married Marianne Clode at Christ Church,
Noah Adelaide.
He became a keen and careful amateur photographer, and his interest has been described by
Solomon Williams (q.v.), the local tinsmith and ironmonger:
I early made the acquaintance of Mr Tilbrook, and have numbered him amongst my friends since
that time. I found him a congenial companion, and in several directions his tastes were similar to
my own. He was fond of mechanics and of scientific study and invention. He preceded me as an
amateur photographer, and it was on account of his success that I was induced to take up the art.
This was the period when the ‘dry plate’ system had recently been introduced, which made it much
easier for amateurs than the old ‘wet plate’ system was.
The printing paper then used was the albumenised paper and we had to sensitise this by floating it
on a bath of nitrate of silver solution and then fuming with liquid ammonia. For years we worked
together, comparing work and notes. At one period we concentrated on stereoscopic pictures, and
many drives have we had around the district securing tit-bits of scenery, of which there is such a
variety in the locality. Then again, we were both fond of astronomy, and here again Mr Tilbrook
preceded me in construction of an astronomical telescope, and later assisted me in similar work.914
In September 1889 Henry Tilbrook and his friend Fred Lester, the local AMP agent, went on a
hunting trip to the Far North. At the time Tilbrook was 41 years of age and Lester 26 years.
Tilbrook did not take his camera, as the sole purpose of their trip was to obtain euro skins for rugmaking,
but in his reminiscences he said ‘I regretted the absence of my camera’. He retired in 1891
and moved to East Adelaide where he maintained his interest in photography, and in September
1894 made another trip to the Flinders Ranges with Lester.915
‘This time, although I took my combined hammerless gun and rifle with me, I decided as my main
objective to obtain photographic records of the scenes of our explorations. I packed my 8 × 5
camera, with Ross lenses of three kinds – Rapid Symmetrical, a short-focus symmetrical, and a
pair of stereoscopic lenses – with an old brand of plates which, unfortunately, did not give the best
of pictures. They were not orthographic either, and the “distances” in my negatives on this trip
were not as distinct as I afterwards succeeded in obtaining with isochromatic plates and Burchett
and Ilford color screens.’
They travelled to Carrieton by train, then on to the Flinders Ranges with a pair of horses drawing a
four-wheeled wagonette laden with chaff, provisions, camera equipment and ammunition.
Tilbrook took photographs along the way, sometimes climbing to the top of a range with his
camera to obtain a view, handicapped by a severe bout of influenza.
In his notes Henry Tilbrook wrote:
It was hard work climbing the ranges to obtain photos, but I persevered. At night I had to change
plates, with my head in a ruby-colored bag and a candle outside. Marianne had made me this bag of
turkey twill, doubled. It had a little ruby glass window through which came the dull candle-light.
This red bag was really a small tent which I placed inside the 8 × 6 calico tent, over the shortened
camera stand. With my arms, head and shoulders inside this, and the lower end tied tightly around
my waist with strings to keep out all white light, and the candle outside the little ruby glass
window, I changed the plates every night. It was a tiresome job, as I was on my knees all the time,
and the perspiration rolled off me.
The candle through the ruby glass gave me enough non-actinic illumination to enable me to see
what I was doing, but much of the work I did by touch. I had to take the exposed plates out of the
dark slides, pack them carefully in their proper rotation, label them, as it was absolutely necessary
to know each individual plate, as each negative required distinctive treatment with the developer
according to exposure and the class of subject. Some required four grains of pyro, some six grains,
and others eight grains of pyro to the ounce in the developer. Some wanted the developer diluted
with an equal bulk of water; some wanted retarding with bromide of potassium, or metabisulphite
more than others.
Thus it was that I must know the name of each plate before I developed it. I did no development in
the field, but waited until I got home. By my thoroughness and care I did not spoil a single plate.
In a portrait studio there is only one developer – namely four grains of pyrogallic acid to each ounce
of ‘A’. But out-door view photography is vastly more complicated and difficult. Four grains of pyro
with a landscape view [and] nearly all green grass and green foliage would be useless. While, on
the other hand, eight grains of pyro on a portrait negative would render it so harsh and ‘hard’ that
the resulting picture would be pure ‘soot and whitewash’.
All this is technical, but it is necessary to explain why I had to be so careful in changing plates.
Then again, dust and fluff, those enemies to good photography, had to be kept off the plates, or
terrible ‘pinholes’ would result. I had a plush brush in a cardboard case to keep the dust off with.
But it was a very difficult matter even then – for dust is everywhere – it is universal. It will get into
every crevice … It was generally a two hours job changing plates – on my knees all the time …
Taking the photos involved many miles of walking each day with a heavy load. But the results were
worth it, for I have now permanent and almost satisfactory pictures of our visit to those interesting
regions.
Dear Marianne appreciated and was proud of them, always asking me to show them to her friends
and visitors when I arrived home … I wanted Marianne with me to make me happy. I often
broached the subject to her, when in Adelaide, of taking trips with me and camping out. But she
would not budge!
Other photographic excursions that Tilbrook mentions in his writings916 include:
1898 – to Mount Gambier and district
1899 – to the top of Mount Bryan, north of Burra
1900 – back to the South East
1905 – Mount Gambier and Portland Victoria
In 1901 he supplied a large number of photographic views of scenery in the South-East to the Railways Department which were to be placed in railway carriages.917
Henry Tilbrook had a brother who lived in Molong in New South Wales between 1911 and 1932.
In 2001 the Art Gallery of South Australia held an exhibition, The photography of H.H. Tilbrook:
South Australia at the turn of the century, which was curated by Alisa Bunbury.918
- Writers:
-
- Date written:
- 2013
- Last updated:
- 2013
