There was a tragic twist in the life of André-Adolphe-Eugène Disdéri, a former merchant, actor, and the man who patented the carte de visite in 1854—an invention that revolutionised photography and made him, by 1861, the wealthiest photographer in the world, with annual earnings of £48,000. Just over a decade later, he was declared bankrupt multiple times as all his subsequent ventures failed spectacularly. After documenting the siege of Paris in 1870 and 1871, the shifting political and social landscape brought an end to his studio business. Financial ruin forced him into itinerant photography and ultimately led to his death in abject poverty—alone, deaf, partially blind—at the Hôpital Sainte-Anne in Paris, an institution for dipsomaniacs, indigents, and the mentally ill.
Perhaps such a commercial collapse was not solely due to the political milieu, his notorious habit of squandering money, or a series of unfortunate investments, but also because the system he created was easy to replicate, enabling other photographers to adopt it with ease. His innovation consisted in exposing multiple images on a single collodion plate, a method that drastically lowered expenses and enabled large‐scale manufacturing to satisfy surging consumer demand. This approach became viable through the use of a camera equipped with a sliding plate holder—a design influenced by stereoscopic cameras—that allowed for several exposures on a single plate with remarkable efficiency.
Calling Disdéri the ‘inventor’ of the carte de visite, however, may be problematic. While he did hold the patent, the origins of the format are more complex and contested. According to John Plunkett in the Encyclopedia of Nineteenth-Century Photography, the earliest known suggestion for placing photographs on calling cards appeared on 24 August 1851 in a satirical article in La Lumière, attributed to Louis Dodero, a photographer from Marseille. In October 1852, Hugh Welch Diamond claimed to have presented Queen Victoria with an equestrian photograph in a similar format. Comparable ideas were mentioned in the American Practical Mechanics Journal during the period and Sir David Brewster credited the Duke of Parma with creating the concept by affixing his portrait to his visiting cards.
Regardless of their true origin, what we broadly know as cartes de visite can be described by their characteristic appearance: small-format photographs, approximately measuring 54 mm by 89 mm (2.125 by 3.5 inches), mounted on card. Initially met with limited interest, their popularity skyrocketed after Disdéri photographed Napoleon III in 1859. Elizabeth McCauley, in Disdéri and the Carte de Visite Portrait Photograph, highlights how the carte de visite served as a window into the social and cultural life of the mid-19th-century French middle class, revealing their morals, manners, fashions, and obsessions. According to the author, these photographs acted as a social equaliser, allowing bourgeois Parisians to view and symbolically invite into their homes images of politicians, actors, dance-hall performers and writers. The carte also offered the middle class an opportunity to dress in their best clothes and preserve their family legacy, following the long-standing tradition of painted portraits once reserved for the wealthy.
This momentum continued beyond France in 1860, when William Downey’s portrait of the Prince of Wales and Princess Louise sold over 300,000 copies, making it one of the most widely distributed cartes de visite ever produced and sparking the social phenomenon known as ‘Cardomania’. Initially a fashion statement and status symbol for the elite, the format soon became accessible to all social classes. This broader reach fostered new forms of personal connection through albums that integrated the carte de visite into everyday life, creating a culture of visual memory that linked individuals within a wider social context. As Jean Sagne notes in his essay All Kind of Portraits, ‘with the carte de visite, photography slid out of frames on the wall and into albums on the table. Nothing short of family museums where collective memories were gathered, these albums shed light on a whole network of relationships.’
In 1857, Marion & Company brought the carte de visite to England and soon dominated the market as the primary suppliers. They provided not only the cards but also essential equipment for portrait studios across the country. This included headrests to stabilise subjects during long exposures, which could last several seconds, as well as props like pedestals, balustrades, columns, posing chairs, decorative backgrounds, and the printed mounts for displaying the photographs. By 1862, the company was handling approximately 50,000 cartes de visite monthly, surpassing all competitors combined.
Early cartes de visite primarily featured formal, posed portraits, depicting full-body or seated positions that reflected the portrait conventions of the time. By the 1860s, when they reached a wider public, a noticeable shift occurred towards head-and-shoulder vignettes, a more intimate and informal style that mirrored changing social attitudes. Individuals increasingly sought portraits that conveyed personal identity rather than adhering to the rigid, idealised postures of earlier periods. Evidence of this shift can be found in Nathan Burgess’s The Photograph Manual: A Practical Treatise (1863), in which he outlined methods for achieving more relaxed, personal poses, advising the use of props and outdoor attire to create a more natural and expressive image. Consequently, many photographers refined their craft to produce portraits that captured not only the sitter’s appearance but also aspects of their personality, even resorting to thematic costumes and exotic scenography.
In the 1870s, a new version emerged—the cabinet card—essentially a larger form of the carte de visite, measuring approximately 108 by 165 mm (4¼ by 6½ inches.) Originally used for landscape views, it gradually became the preferred format for portraits, owing to its enhanced size, which allowed for greater detail and visibility. While early cabinet cards were printed on albumen paper, which provided a glossy finish, later examples were produced on matte collodion or gelatine bromide paper, which resulted in clearer, more defined images with a black-and-white appearance, in contrast to the sepia tones commonly associated with earlier prints. The larger format made the cabinet card more suitable for display, transitioning from a personal keepsake to an item of decoration in domestic spaces.
During the ‘Cardomania’, photographers began investing more in branding, often printing elaborate studio logos, locations, and promotional details on the back of both cartes de visite and cabinet cards. This strategy helped solidify their commercial identities in a competitive market and enhanced the status of these portraits as decorative fixtures in Victorian parlours. Although this format maintained its prominence well into the 1920s, its widespread use gradually declined with the advent of personal photography, especially after the introduction of the Kodak Box Brownie in 1900.
Both cartes de visite and cabinet cards were also extraordinarily popular in Jersey. Their evolution can be traced through the work of Henry Mullins, the first professional photographer to establish a portrait business on the island. Mullins began his career in London in the 1840s before moving to Jersey in 1848, where he opened the Royal Saloon studio at 7 Royal Square, partnering with Milward. After Milward’s departure in June 1849, Mullins continued to operate independently for the next 26 years, including a brief period in London from 1864 to 1867.
According to Archipelago: Photography in the Channel Islands 1840-1870 by Gareth Syvret, Mullins began producing carte de visite portraits in response to growing demand following their popularity in mainland Europe and Britain. He also transplanted the visual conventions of painted miniature portraits while embracing technological developments that allowed for full-length portraits, incorporating stock props and drapery. Mullins amassed a collection of over 9,600 images, now preserved in the photographic archive of the Société Jersiaise. His studio grew into a prominent commercial enterprise, with affordable pricing that attracted a diverse clientele, including affluent locals, notable figures such as Dean Le Breton, officers of the Royal Militia Island of Jersey, as well as politicians, sailors, and local clergy.
This period saw the proliferation of photography studios across St Helier, where increased competition met the mounting demand for portraiture. The expansion is evident in the growing number of establishments, including A. Laurens, Julian B. Maguire, Albert Smith, Ernest Baudoux, Mevius, T. H. Moore, Clarence Philip Ouless, T. Price, and Simonton, among many others, all active in the burgeoning market. Competition among these photographers was fierce, and many sought to distinguish themselves by emphasising their dedication to quality and innovation, or even their academic pedigree. For instance, the photographic archive of the Société Jersiaise contains several cartes de visite by a photographer who signed his work as Marius. This photographer was active at 2 David Place for a brief period between 1876 and 1878 and claimed to have been an ‘Eléve et Correspondant’ of one of the most significant photographers in France at the time: Gaspard-Félix Tournachon, better known by his pseudonym Nadar.
Having Nadar’s name in the reverse of the cartes de visite was reputationally meaningful, given his background and connections. Initially a caricaturist, novelist, and member of the Parisian bohemian scene, he transitioned to photography in 1853 and quickly rose to prominence, becoming Disdéri’s main rival. His studio attracted notable figures from artistic and intellectual circles, including Victor Hugo, Charles Baudelaire, Franz Liszt, Gérard de Nerval, and Alexandre Dumas. Nadar made significant advancements in artificial lighting techniques, moving away from the traditional reliance on natural light in portraiture. He was the first to capture aerial photographs using the wet plate collodion process and invented a gas-proof cotton cover for his balloons. Nadar also pioneered underground photography in the Paris catacombs and, in 1867, published the first air travel magazine, L’Aéronaute.
Although it is perfectly plausible that Marius was indeed a student and correspondent of Nadar, there is no documental evidence to support this claim, aside from the photographer’s use of similar colour and style in the frames of his cartes de visite. Interestingly, and simply as a side note, Nadar did produce a carte de visite for an actress named Marius sometime between 1860 and 1890, although little is known about her. The photograph, titled Portrait of Marius, actress at the Théâtre du Châtelet, offers limited information beyond her association with the theatre mentioned. Nevertheless, given that Marius was not an uncommon name in Jersey at the time, it seems unlikely that the photographer and the actress were connected in any way. Thus, the true identity of Marius, the photographer, remains uncertain.
Other photographers employed different techniques to promote their studios. An additional interesting case is that of J. B. Maguire, who was active between 1881 and 1899 at 1 Newtown Buildings, David Place. He branded his studios with ambitious names, such as the Electric Light Studio and later the Rembrandt Studio, highlighting his focus on innovation and artistic refinement. On the reverse of one of his cartes de visite, Maguire included the following promotional statement:
J. B. Maguire, in issuing this specimen, takes the opportunity of thanking his patrons for their unbounded support, which is most gratifying to him, so it proves that his efforts to turn out none but first-class work and thus give satisfaction have been thoroughly appreciated; he would likewise beg to intimate that all photographs produced at this establishment will be equal, if not above the standard of specimen prints herein presented, and that his patrons may rely on the fact that he will be the first to introduce any improvement or invention in photography that would be of any advantage to them, regardless of the time or cost.
The statement clearly reflects Maguire’s aim to express appreciation to his customers and reinforce their trust, positioning himself as a leader in the field who was willing to adapt to new technologies and approaches to meet their needs. This promotional strategy highlights the evolving relationship between photographers and their clientele, where innovation and personal connection became key to sustaining success.
Although that type of intimate relationship between the commercial photographer and the subject has been lost, the phenomenon of ‘Cardomania’ mirrors contemporary social media culture, not only through the proliferation of profile images and artificial social interaction but also in the fleeting nature with which many viewed cartes de visite and cabinet cards at the time. As described in the Encyclopedia of Nineteenth-Century Photography, cartes de visite were ‘small, ephemeral commodities… easy to hold, easy to pass around, easy to look over by the dozen within a drawing room, not to be looked at with deferential awe or revered from a distance but catalogued and collected, gossiped and commented upon’. Much like today’s social media, these artefacts may have contained an element of banality, yet they provided Victorians with a medium to express their personalities and comment on the photographs of others, reflecting a desire for social validation and personal branding.
doi.org/10.5281/zenodo.14916869
Bibliography
- Elizabeth Anne McCauley, A.A.E. Disdéri and the Carte de Visite Portrait Photograph, Yale University Press, 1985.
- Sagne, J. (1998). All kinds of portraits. In A new history of photography (p. 110). Konemann
- Deeks, H. (1989). Posing for the Carte de Visite Photograph: An article about style. Military Images, Vol. 11, No. 1, 10th Anniversary Issue: 1979-1989, p. 30. https://www.jstor.org/stable/44032171
- Coddington, R. S. (2016). Cardomania!: How the carte de visite became the Facebook of the 1860s. Military Images, Vol. 34, No. 3 (SUMMER 2016), pp. 12-17. https://www.jstor.org/stable/24865727
- McCauley, A. (1983). Caricature and Photography in Second Empire Paris. Art Journal, Vol. 43, No. 4, The Issue of Caricature (Winter, 1983), pp. 355-360. Published by: CAA. https://doi.org/10.2307/776733 https://www.jstor.org/stable/776733
- Krauss, R. (1978). Tracing Nadar. October, Vol. 5, Photography (Summer, 1978), pp. 29-47. Published by: The MIT Press. https://doi.org/10.2307/778643 https://www.jstor.org/stable/778643
- Burgess, N. G. (1863). The Photograph Manual; A Practical Treatise, Containing the Cartes De Visite Process, and the Method of Taking Stereoscopic Pictures. Published by D. Appleton and Company, New York.
- Syvret, Gareth. Imagining the Archipelago: Photography in the Channel Islands 1840-1870. 2018, pp. 88-105.
- Hannavy, J. (2008). Encyclopedia of Nineteenth-Century Photography (Vol. 1). Routledge, p. 276. Essay by John Plunkett
Supported by The Jersey Community Foundation with funds from the Channel Islands Lottery
