He captured the Crimea – by camera

On Monday Granada’s A Camera Goes To War brings to life one of the least glorious pages of British military history — the Crimea, preserved by the lens of pioneer war photographer Roger Fenton. Here is the story of Fenton himself, told by GRANT STRANG

ROGER FENTON, M.P.’s son and barrister-at-law, was off to war. With him he took the best wishes of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. And, for good measure, he had the assurance of every assistance from the Secretary of State for War.

For Roger Fenton was not only off to war — he was off to make his mark in history as one of the first war photographers.

Born at Crimble Hall, Lancashire, Fenton’s father was M.P. for Rochdale. At one time the family had been immensely wealthy, owning a cotton mill, a bank and other property, but disputes had resulted in them losing everything.

All this was history when Roger Fenton went to the Crimean War in which Britain had allied herself with France to keep Russia out of the Mediterranean. It was the war of the Charge of the Light Brigade, of Florence Nightingale.

Disease was as deadly a killer as the enemy’s mortars. In sub-zero temperatures the troops had not even the protection of warm clothing.

On the eve of Roger Fenton’s departure to the Crimea in February, 1855, such a storm of anger had been aroused in the country when the appalling sufferings of the troops became known that the Government was forced to resign. It was suggested that photography, the amusing new novelty which was all the rage, could be used to “provide dispatches of the most convincing accuracy” to show that something was being done.

But, strangely enough, although Fenton’s mission to the Crimea was under the patronage of the Queen, the Government was not footing the bill. His sponsors were a Manchester firm of publishers who wanted picture postcard “scenes of historical interest” to sell to the public.

What Fenton had not to photograph were any scenes showing the real ravages and horrors of war.

Anyway, Fenton’s crude equipment would not have been up to the task, and it was not until the 1914-18 war that the first battle scenes were photographed. What Fenton’s five months “covering” the Crimea did provide was a unique historical record of how men looked and behaved in the midst of a war — and of the scenes in which their battles were set.

From his previous experience touring Yorkshire in happier times, Fenton had converted a wine merchant’s vehicle into a caravan and mobile darkroom.

Everything he would need had to be shipped with him when he sailed from East India Docks, London — five cameras of different sizes and an assortment of lenses, 700 glass plates, several chests of chemicals, a still for distilling water, and a variety of other miscellaneous equipment.

In the barren country his slowly trudging horse-drawn van stood out against the skyline as a tempting target for the Russians who mistook it for an ammunition wagon.

Several times Fenton came under fire, but his own courage matched that of the men he had come to the front line to photograph. Gradually the portfolio of pictures which were to make his name famous grew thicker.

Back in England, where sets of his photographs sold for 60 guineas [£6 6s 0d, £6.30 in decimal, very roughly £600 in today’s money allowing for inflation – Ed] and singly at prices from 10s. [50p, £45] to a guinea [£1.10, £100], Fenton went on to claim a new title as the country’s leading landscape photographer.

Then suddenly, at the height of his fame, he announced that he was giving up photography and going back to the law. His decision came as a surprise and a shock.

Stranger still was the reason he gave to his successor as secretary of the Photographic Society. For the pioneer who had given a new dimension to the art of photography decided that there was no future in it, because no one could guarantee that his prints would not fade with time.

However, most of Fenton’s collection of Crimean war pictures did survive, and they form the basis of Monday’s A Camera Goes To War.