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Title: The Unmasking of Robert-Houdin
Author: Houdini, Harry, 1874-1926
Language: English
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*** Start of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Unmasking of Robert-Houdin" ***
[Illustration: Harry Houdini]
_Frontispiece_]
THE UNMASKING
_OF_
ROBERT-HOUDIN
_BY_
HARRY HOUDINI
[Illustration]
_NEW YORK_
_THE PUBLISHERS PRINTING CO._
_1908_
_Copyright, 1906_
_Copyright, 1907_
_Copyright, 1908_
_By HARRY HOUDINI_
_Entered at Stationer's Hall, London, England_
_All rights reserved_
Composition, Electrotyping and Printing by
The Publishers Printing Company
New York, N.Y., U.S.A.
Dedication
_This Book is affectionately dedicated to the memory of
my father,
Rev. M. S. Weiss, Ph.D., LL.D.,
who instilled in me love of study and patience in research_
CONTENTS
PAGE
INTRODUCTION, 7
CHAPTER
I. SIGNIFICANT EVENTS IN THE LIFE OF ROBERT-HOUDIN, 33
II. THE ORANGE-TREE TRICK, 51
III. THE WRITING AND DRAWING FIGURE, 83
IV. THE PASTRY COOK OF THE PALAIS ROYAL, 116
V. THE OBEDIENT CARDS--THE CABALISTIC CLOCK--THE
TRAPEZE AUTOMATON, 141
VI. THE INEXHAUSTIBLE BOTTLE, 176
VII. SECOND SIGHT, 200
VIII. THE SUSPENSION TRICK, 222
IX. THE DISAPPEARING HANDKERCHIEF, 245
X. ROBERT-HOUDIN'S IGNORANCE OF MAGIC AS BETRAYED
BY HIS OWN PEN, 264
XI. THE NARROWNESS OF ROBERT-HOUDIN'S "MEMOIRS," 295
INTRODUCTION
This book is the natural result of the moulding, dominating influence
which the spirit and writings of Robert-Houdin have exerted over my
professional career. My interest in conjuring and magic and my
enthusiasm for Robert-Houdin came into existence simultaneously. From
the moment that I began to study the art, he became my guide and hero. I
accepted his writings as my text-book and my gospel. What Blackstone is
to the struggling lawyer, Hardee's "Tactics" to the would-be officer, or
Bismarck's life and writings to the coming statesman, Robert-Houdin's
books were to me.
To my unsophisticated mind, his "Memoirs" gave to the profession a
dignity worth attaining at the cost of earnest, life-long effort. When
it became necessary for me to take a stage-name, and a fellow-player,
possessing a veneer of culture, told me that if I would add the letter
"i" to Houdin's name, it would mean, in the French language, "like
Houdin," I adopted the suggestion with enthusiasm. I asked nothing more
of life than to become in my profession "like Robert-Houdin."
By this time I had re-read his works until I could recite passage after
passage from memory. Then, when Fate turned kind and the golden pathway
of success led me into broader avenues of work, I determined that my
first tour abroad should be dedicated to adding new laurels to the fame
of Robert-Houdin. By research and study I would unearth history yet
unwritten, and record unsung triumphs of this great inventor and
artiste. The pen of his most devoted student and follower would awaken
new interest in his history.
[Illustration: Robert-Houdin in his prime, immediately after his
retirement. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Alas for my golden dreams! My investigations brought forth only
bitterest disappointment and saddest of disillusionment. Stripped of his
self-woven veil of romance, Robert-Houdin stood forth, in the
uncompromising light of cold historical facts, a mere pretender, a man
who waxed great on the brainwork of others, a mechanician who had boldly
filched the inventions of the master craftsmen among his predecessors.
"Memoirs of Robert-Houdin, Ambassador, Author and Conjurer, Written by
Himself," proved to have been the penwork of a brilliant Parisian
journalist, employed by Robert-Houdin to write his so-called
autobiography. In the course of his "Memoirs," Robert-Houdin, over his
own signature, claimed credit for the invention of many tricks and
automata which may be said to have marked the golden age in magic. My
investigations disproved each claim in order. He had announced himself
as the first magician to appear in regulation evening clothes,
discarding flowing sleeves and heavily draped stage apparatus. The
credit for this revolution in conjuring belonged to Wiljalba Frikell.
Robert-Houdin's explanation of tricks performed by other magicians and
not included in his repertoire, proved so incorrect and inaccurate as to
brand him an ignoramus in certain lines of conjuring. Yet to the great
charm of his diction and the romantic development of his personal
reminiscences later writers have yielded unquestioningly and have built
upon the historically weak foundations of his statements all the later
so-called histories of magic.
For a time the disappointment killed all creative power. With no laurel
wreath to carve, my tools lay idle. The spirit of investigation
languished. Then came the reaction. There was work to be done. Those who
had wrought honestly deserved the credit that had been taken from them.
In justice to the living as well as the dead the history of the magic
must be revised. The book, accepted for more than half a century as an
authority on our craft, must stand forth for what it is, a clever
romance, a well-written volume of fiction.
That is why to-day I offer to the profession of magic, to the world of
laymen readers to whom its history has always appealed, and to the
literary savants who dip into it as a recreation, the results of my
investigations. These, I believe, will show Robert-Houdin's true place
in the history of magic and give to his predecessors, in a profession
which in each generation becomes more serious and more dignified, the
credit they deserve.
[Illustration: Frontispiece of "Hocus Pocus," Second Edition, 1635, one
of the earliest works on magic. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
My investigations cover nearly twenty years of a busy professional
career. Every hour which I could spare from my professional work was
given over to study in libraries, to interviews with retired magicians
and collectors, and to browsing in old bookstores and antique shops
where rare collections of programs, newspapers, and prints might be
found.
[Illustration: John Baptist Porta, the Neapolitan writer on magic. From
an old woodcut in the Harry Houdini Collection.]
In order to conduct my researches intelligently, I was compelled to pick
up a smattering of the language of each country in which I played. The
average collector or proprietor of an old bookshop is a canny,
suspicious individual who must accept you as a friend before he will
uncover his choicest treasures.
As authorities, books on magic and kindred arts are practically
worthless. The earliest books, like the magician stories written by Sir
John Mandeville in 1356, read like prototypes of to-day's dime novels.
They are thrilling tales of travellers who witnessed magical
performances, but they are not authentic records of performers and their
work.
One of the oldest books in my collection is "Natural and Unnatural
Magic" by Gantziony, dated 1489. It is the author's script, exquisite in
its German chirography, artistic in its illuminated illustrations, but
worthless as an historical record, though many of the writer's
descriptions and explanations of old-time tricks are most interesting.
Early in the seventeenth century appeared "Hocus Pocus," the most widely
copied book in the literature of magic. The second edition, dated 1635,
I have in my library. I have never been able to find a copy of the first
edition or to ascertain the date at which it was published.
A few years later, in 1658, came a very important contribution to the
history of magic in "Natural Magick in XX. Bookes," by John Baptist
Porta, a Neapolitan. This has been translated into nearly every
language. It was the first really important and exhaustive work on the
subject, but, unfortunately, it gives the explanation of tricks, rather
than an authentic record of their invention.
In 1682, Simon Witgeest of Amsterdam, Holland, wrote an admirable work,
whose title reads "Book of Natural Magic." This work was translated into
German, ran through many an edition, and had an enormous sale in both
Holland and Germany.
[Illustration: Frontispiece from Simon Witgeest's "Book of Natural
Magic" (1682), showing the early Dutch conception of conjuring. From the
Harry Houdini Collection.]
In 1715, John White, an Englishman, published a work entitled "Art's
Treasury and Hocus Pocus; or a Rich Cabinet of Legerdemain Curiosities."
This is fully as reliable a book as the earlier "Hocus Pocus" books,
but it is not so generally known.
Richard Neve, who was a popular English conjurer just before the time of
Fawkes, published a book on somewhat similar lines in 1715.
Germany contributed the next notable works on magic. First came Johann
Samuel Halle's "Magic or the Magical Power of Nature," printed in
Berlin, in 1784. One of his compatriots, Johann Christian Wiegleb, wrote
eighteen books on "The Natural Magic" and while I shall always contend
that the German books are the most complete, yet they cannot be accepted
as authorities save that, in describing early tricks, they prove the
existence of inventions and working methods claimed later as original by
men like Robert-Houdin.
English books on magic were not accepted seriously until the early part
of the nineteenth century. In Vol. III. of John Beckmann's "History of
Inventions and Discoveries," published in 1797, will be found a chapter
on "Jugglers" which presents interesting matter regarding magicians and
mysterious entertainers. I quote from this book in disproving
Robert-Houdin's claims to the invention of automata and second-sight.
About 1840, J. H. Anderson, a popular magician, brought out a series of
inexpensive, paper-bound volumes, entitled "A Shilling's Worth of
Magic," "Parlor Magic," etc., which are valuable only as giving a
glimpse of the tricks contemporary with his personal successes. In 1859
came Robert-Houdin's "Memoirs," magic's classic. Signor Blitz, in 1872,
published his reminiscences, "Fifty Years in the Magic Circle," but
here again we have a purely local and personal history, without
general value.
[Illustration: John White, an English writer on magic and kindred arts
in the early part of the eighteenth century. Only portrait in existence
and published for the first time since his book was issued in 1715. From
the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Thomas Frost wrote three books relating to the history of magic,
commencing about 1870. This list included "Circus Life and Circus
Celebrities," "The Old Showmen and the Old London Fairs," and "Lives of
the Conjurers." These were the best books of their kind up to the time
of their publication, but they are marked by glaring errors, showing
that Frost compiled rather than investigated, or, more properly
speaking, that his investigations never went much further than Morley's
"Memoirs of Bartholomew Fair."
Charles Bertram who wrote "Isn't it Wonderful?" closed the
nineteenth-century list of English writers on magic, but his work is
marred by mis-statements which even the humblest of magicians could
refute, and, like Frost, he drew heavily on writers who preceded him.
So far, in the twentieth century, the most notable contribution to the
literature of magic is Henry Ridgely Evans' "The Old and the New Magic,"
but Mr. Evans falls into the error of his predecessors in accepting as
authoritative the history of magic and magicians furnished by
Robert-Houdin. He has made no effort whatever to verify or refute the
statements made by Robert-Houdin, but has merely compiled and re-written
them to suit his twentieth-century readers.
[Illustration: Frontispiece from Richard Neve's work on magic, showing
him performing the egg and bag trick about 1715. Photographed from the
original in the British Museum by the author.]
[Illustration: Signor Antonio Blitz, author of "Fifty Years in the Magic
Circle" (1872). Original negative of this photograph is in the Harry
Houdini Collection.]
The true historian does not compile. He delves for facts and proofs, and
having found these he arrays his indisputable facts, his
uncontrovertible proofs, to refute the statements of those who have
merely compiled. That is what I have done to prove my case against
Robert-Houdin. I have not borrowed from the books of other writers on
magic. I have gone to the very fountain head of information, records of
contemporary literature, newspapers, programmes and advertisements of
magicians who preceded Robert-Houdin, sometimes by a century. It would
cost fully a million dollars to forge the collection of evidence now in
my hands. Men who lived a hundred years before Robert-Houdin was born
did not invent posters or write advertisements in order to refute the
claims of those who were to follow in the profession of magic. These
programmes, advertisements, newspaper notices, and crude cuts trace the
true history of magic as no romancer, no historian of a single
generation possibly could. They are the ghosts of dead and gone
magicians, rising in this century of research and progress to claim the
credit due them.
[Illustration: Philip Astley, Esq., an historical circus director, a
famous character of Bartholomew Fair days, and author of "Natural Magic"
(1784). From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
[Illustration: Charles Bertram (James Bassett), the English author and
conjurer, who wrote "Isn't it Wonderful?" Born 1853, died Feb. 28th,
1907. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Often when the bookshops and auction sales did not yield fruit worth
plucking, I had the good fortune to meet a private collector or a
retired performer whose assistance proved invaluable, and the histories
of these meetings read almost like romances, so skilfully did the Fates
seem to juggle with my efforts to secure credible proof.
To the late Henry Evans Evanion I am indebted for many of the most
important additions to my collection of conjuring curios and my library
of magic, recognized by fellow-artistes and litterateurs as the most
complete in the world.
Evanion was an Englishman, by profession a parlor magician, by choice
and habit a collector and savant. He was an entertainer from 1849 to the
year of his death. For fifty years he spent every spare hour at the
British Museum collecting data bearing on his marvellous collection, and
his interest in the history of magic was shared by his excellent wife
who conducted a "sweet shop" near one of London's public schools.
While playing at the London Hippodrome in 1904 I was confined to my room
by orders of my physician. During this illness I was interviewed by a
reporter who, noticing the clippings and bills with which my room was
strewn, made some reference to my collection in the course of his
article. The very day on which this interview appeared, I received from
Henry Evanion a mere scrawl stating that he, too, collected programmes,
bills, etc., in which I might be interested.
I wrote at once asking him to call at one o'clock the next afternoon,
but as the hour passed and he did not appear, I decided that, like many
others who asked for interviews, he had felt but a passing whim. That
afternoon about four o'clock my physician suggested that, as the day was
mild, I walk once around the block. As I stepped from the lift, the
hotel porter informed me that since one o'clock an old man had been
waiting to see me, but so shabby was his appearance, they had not dared
send him up to my room. He pointed to a bent figure, clad in rusty
raiment. When I approached the old man he rose and informed me that he
had brought some clippings, bills, etc., for me to see. I asked him to
be as expeditious as possible, for I was too weak to stand long and my
head was a-whirl from the effects of la grippe.
[Illustration: Last photograph of Henry Evans Evanion, conjurer and
collector, taken especially for this book in which he was deeply
interested. Died June 17th, 1905. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
With some hesitancy of speech but the loving touch of a collector he
opened his parcel.
"I have brought you, sir, only a few of my treasures, sir, but if you
will call--"
I heard no more. I remember only raising my hands before my eyes, as if
I had been dazzled by a sudden shower of diamonds. In his trembling
hands lay priceless treasures for which I had sought in vain--original
programmes and bills of Robert-Houdin, Phillippe, Anderson, Breslaw,
Pinetti, Katterfelto, Boaz, in fact all the conjuring celebrities of the
eighteenth century, together with lithographs long considered
unobtainable, and newspapers to be found only in the files of national
libraries. I felt as if the King of England stood before me and I must
do him homage.
Physician or no physician, I made an engagement with him for the next
morning, when I was bundled into a cab and went as fast as the driver
could urge his horse to Evanion's home, a musty room in the basement of
No. 12 Methley Street, Kennington Park Road, S.E.
[Illustration: Very rare and extraordinarily fine lithograph of
Robert-Houdin, which he gave only to his friends. It depicts him among
his so-called inventions. His son, Emile, doing second sight, is behind
him. The writing and drawing figure is on his left. On his right under
the clockwork is a drawing which, on close examination of the original,
shows the suspension trick. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
In the presence of his collection I lost all track of time. Occasionally
we paused in our work to drink tea which he made for us on his
pathetically small stove. The drops of the first tea which we drank
together can yet be found on certain papers in my collection. His
wife, a most sympathetic soul, did not offer to disturb us, and it was
3:30 the next morning, or very nearly twenty-four hours after my arrival
at his home, when my brother, Theodore Weiss (Hardeen), and a thoroughly
disgusted physician appeared on the scene and dragged me, an unwilling
victim, back to my hotel and medical care.
Such was the beginning of my friendship with Evanion. In time I learned
that some of his collection had been left to him by James Savren, an
English barber, who was so interested in magic that at frequent
intervals he dropped his trade to work without pay for famous magicians,
including Döbler, Anderson, Compars Herrmann, De Liska, Wellington
Young, Cornillot, and Gyngell. From these men he had secured a
marvellous collection, which was the envy of his friendly rival,
Evanion. Savren bequeathed his collection to Evanion, and bit by bit I
bought it from the latter, now poverty stricken, too old to work and
physically failing. These purchases I made at intervals whenever I
played in London, and on June 7th, 1905, while playing at Wigan, I
received word that Evanion was dying at Lambeth Infirmary.
After the show, I jumped to London, only to find that cancer of the
throat made it almost impossible for him to speak intelligibly. I soon
discovered, however, that his chief anxiety was for the future of his
wife and then for his own decent burial. When these sad offices had been
provided for, he became more peaceful, and when I rose to leave him,
knowing that we had met probably for the last time, he drew forth his
chiefest treasure, a superb book of Robert-Houdin's programmes, his one
legacy, which is now the central jewel in my collection. Evanion died
ten days later, June 17th, and within a short time his good wife
followed him into the Great Unknown.
[Illustration: Poster used by James Savren. From the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
Even more dramatic was my meeting with the widow of Frikell, the great
German conjurer.
I had heard that Frikell and not Robert-Houdin was the first magician to
discard cumbersome, draped stage apparatus, and to don evening clothes,
and I was most anxious to verify this rumor, as well as to interview him
regarding equally important data bearing on the history of magic. Having
heard that he lived in Kötchenbroda, a suburb of Dresden, I wrote to him
from Cologne, asking for an interview. I received in reply a curt note:
"Herr verreist," meaning "The master is on tour." This, I knew, from his
age, could not be true, so I took a week off for personal investigation.
I arrived at Kötchenbroda on the morning of April 8th, 1903, at 4
o'clock, and was directed to his home, known as "Villa Frikell." Having
found my bearings and studied well the exterior of the house, I returned
to the depot to await daylight. At 8:30 I reappeared at his door, and
was told by his wife that Herr Frikell had gone away.
I then sought the police department from which I secured the following
information: "Dr." Wiljalba Frikell was indeed the retired magician whom
I was so anxious to meet. He was eighty-seven years old, and in 1884 had
celebrated his golden anniversary as a conjurer. Living in the same town
was an adopted daughter, but she could not or would not assist me. The
venerable magician had suffered from domestic disappointments and had
made a vow that he would see no one. In fact he was leading a
hermit-like life.
Armed with this information, I employed a photographer, giving him
instructions to post himself opposite the house and make a snap shot of
the magician, should he appear in the doorway. But I had counted without
my host. All morning the photographer lounged across the street and all
morning I stood bareheaded before the door of Herr Frikell, pleading
with his wife who leaned from the window overhead. With that peculiar
fervency which comes only when the heart's desire is at stake, I begged
that the past master of magic would lend a helping hand to one ready to
sit at his feet and learn. I urged the debt which he owed to the
literature of magic and which he could pay by giving me such direct
information as I needed for my book.
[Illustration: The Author standing in front of Villa Frikell at
Kötchenbroda, Germany, where the master magician, Wiljalba Frikell,
spent the last years of his life. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Frau Frikell heard my pleadings with tears running down her cheeks, and
later I learned that Herr Frikell also listened to them, lying grimly on
the other side of the shuttered window.
At length, yielding to physical exhaustion, I went away, but I was still
undaunted. I continued to bombard Herr Frikell with letters, press
clippings regarding my work, etc., and finally in Russia I received a
letter from him. I might send him a package containing a certain brand
of Russian tea of which he was particularly fond. You may be sure I lost
no time in shipping the little gift, and shortly I was rewarded by the
letter for which I longed. Having decided that I cared more for him than
did some of his relatives, he would receive me when next I played near
Kötchenbroda.
With this interview in prospect, I made the earliest engagement
obtainable in Dresden, intending to give every possible moment to my
hardly-won acquaintance. But Fate interfered. One business problem after
another arose, concerning my forthcoming engagement in England, and I
had to postpone my visit to Herr Frikell until the latter part of the
week. In the mean time, he had agreed to visit a Dresden photographer,
as I wanted an up-to-date photograph of him and he had only pictures
taken in his more youthful days. On the day when he came to Dresden for
his sitting, he called at the theatre, but the attachés, without
informing me, refused to give him the name of the hotel where I was
stopping.
[Illustration: Last photograph of Herr and Frau Frikell, taken
especially for this work. Frikell died Oct. 8th, 1903, the day after
this photograph was taken. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
After the performance I dropped into the König Kaffe and was much
annoyed by the staring and gesticulations of an elderly couple at a
distant table. It was Frikell with his wife, but I did not recognize
them and, not being certain on his side, he failed to make himself
known. That was mid-week, and for Saturday, which fell on October 8th,
1903, I had an engagement to call at the Villa Frikell. On Thursday, the
Central Theatre being sold out to Cleo de Merode, who was playing
special engagements in Germany with her own company, I made a flying
business trip to Berlin, and on my return I passed through Kötchenbroda.
As the train pulled into the station I hesitated. Should I drop off and
see Herr Frikell, or wait for my appointment on the morrow? Fate turned
the wheel by a mere thread and I went on to Dresden. So does she often
dash our fondest hopes!
My appointment for Saturday was at 2 P.M., and as my train landed me in
Kötchenbroda a trifle too early I walked slowly from the depot to the
Villa Frikell, not wishing to disturb my aged host by arriving ahead of
time.
I rang the bell. It echoed through the house with peculiar shrillness.
The air seemed charged with a quality which I presumed was the intense
pleasure of realizing my long cherished hope of meeting the great
magician. A lady opened the door and greeted me with the words: "You are
being waited for."
I entered. He was waiting for me indeed, this man who had consented to
meet me, after vowing that he would never again look into the face of a
stranger. And Fate had forced him to keep that vow. Wiljalba Frikell was
dead. The body, clad in the best his wardrobe afforded, all of which
had been donned in honor of his expected guest, was not yet cold. Heart
failure had come suddenly and unannounced. The day before he had cleaned
up his souvenirs in readiness for my coming and arranged a quantity of
data for me. On the wall above the silent form were all of his gold
medals, photographs taken at various stages of his life, orders
presented to him by royalty--all the outward and visible signs of a
vigorous, active, and successful life, the life of which he would have
told me, had I arrived ahead of Death. And when all these were arranged,
he had forgotten his morbid dislike of strangers. The old instincts of
hospitality tugged at his heart strings, and his wife said he was almost
young and happy once more, when suddenly he grasped at his heart,
crying, "My heart! What is the matter with my heart? O----" That was
all!
There we stood together, the woman who had loved the dear old wizard for
years and the young magician who would have been so willing to love him
had he been allowed to know him. His face was still wet from the cologne
she had thrown over him in vain hope of reviving the fading soul. On the
floor lay the cloths, used so ineffectually to bathe the pulseless face,
and now laughing mockingly at one who saw himself defeated after weary
months of writing and pleading for the much-desired meeting.
I feel sure that the personal note struck in these reminiscences will be
forgiven. In no other way could I prove the authoritativeness of my
collection, the thoroughness of my research, and the incontrovertibility
of the facts which I desire to set forth in this volume.
THE UNMASKING OF ROBERT-HOUDIN
CHAPTER I
SIGNIFICANT EVENTS IN THE LIFE OF ROBERT-HOUDIN
Robert-Houdin was born in Blois, France, December 6th, 1805. His real
name was Jean-Eugene Robert, and his father was Prosper Robert, a
watchmaker in moderate circumstances. His mother's maiden name was Marie
Catherine Guillon. His first wife was Josephe Cecile Eglantine Houdin,
whose family name he assumed for business reasons. He was married the
second time to Françoise Marguerite Olympe Naconnier. His death, caused
by pneumonia, occurred at St. Gervais, France, on June 13th, 1871.
[Illustration: Jean-Eugene Robert-Houdin. Photograph taken--about 1868.
From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Barring the above facts, which were gleaned from the register of the
civil authorities of St. Gervais, all information regarding his life
previous to his first public appearance in 1844 must be drawn from his
own works, particularly from his autobiography, published in the form of
"Memoirs." Because of his supreme egotism, his obvious desire to make
his autobiography picturesque and interesting rather than historically
correct, and his utter indifference to dates, exact names of places,
theatres, books, etc., it is extremely hard to present logical and
consistent statements regarding his life. Such discrepancies arise as
the mention of three children in one chapter and four in another, while
he does not give the names of either wife, though he admits his
obligation to both good women.
According to his autobiography, Jean-Eugene Robert was sent to college
at Orleans at the tender age of eleven, and remained there until he was
eighteen. He was then placed in a notary's office to study law, but his
mechanical tastes led him back to his father's trade, watchmaking.
While working for his cousin at Blois, he visited a bookshop in search
of Berthoud's "Treatise on Clockmaking," but by mistake he was given
several volumes of an old encyclopædia, one of which contained a
dissertation on "Scientific Amusements," or an exposition of magic. This
simple incident, he asserts, changed the entire current of his life. At
eighteen, he first turned his attention to magic. At forty, he made his
first appearance as an independent magician or public performer.
On page 44 of his "Memoirs," American edition, Robert-Houdin refers to
this book as an encyclopædia, but several times later he calls it "White
Magic." In all probability it was the famous work by Henri Decremps in
five volumes, known as "La Magie Banche Dévoilée," or "White Magic
Exposed." This was written by Decremps to injure Pinetti, and it exposed
all the latter's tricks, including the orange tree, the vaulting trapeze
automaton, and in fact the majority of the tricks later claimed by
Robert-Houdin as his own inventions.
In 1828, while working for M. Noriet, a watchmaker in Tours, Jean-Eugene
Robert was poisoned by improperly prepared food, and in his delirium
started for his old home in Blois. He was picked up on the roadside by
Torrini, a travelling magician, who nursed him back to health in his
portable theatre. Just as young Jean recovered Torrini was injured in an
accident, and his erstwhile patient remained to nurse his benefactor and
later to help Torrini's assistant present the programme of magic by
which they made their living. His first public appearance as the
representative of Torrini was made at Aubusson.
[Illustration: The only Robert-Houdin poster showing his complete stage
setting. This lithograph was made in France. From the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
[Illustration: Programme for the opening of Robert-Houdin's theatre in
Paris. Reproduced from the American edition of his "Memoirs."]
[Illustration: Robert-Houdin's favorite lithograph for advertising
purposes. Used on the majority of his posters and in the original
edition of his "Memoirs." From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Torrini was an Italian whose real name was Count Edmond de Grisy. He was
a contemporary of Pinetti. In all probability, during the long summer of
their intimate companionship, Torrini not only initiated his fascinated
young guest into his own methods of performingtricks, but also into the
secrets of Pinetti's tricks. In his "Memoirs," Robert-Houdin makes no
secret of the fact that both Comus and Pinetti, together with their
tricks, were topics of conversation between himself and Torrini.
[Illustration: A very rare, and possibly the only, programme in
existence, chronicling Robert-Houdin's first appearance before Queen
Victoria, July 19th, 1848. The original, now in the Harry Houdini
Collection, was presented to James Savren by Robert-Houdin.]
[Illustration: Poster used by Robert-Houdin during an Easter engagement
at the St. James Theatre, London. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
When Torrini was able to resume his performances, Jean-Eugene returned
to his family in Blois. During the next few years he mixed amateur
acting with his daily labor, leaning more and more toward the profession
of public entertainer. But his ambitions along this line were nipped in
the bud by marriage. Mademoiselle Houdin, whose father was a celebrated
watchmaker in Paris, visited old friends in Blois, their native town,
and became the fiancée of young Robert. As the new son-in-law was to
share the elder Houdin's business and naturally wished to secure such
benefits as might accrue from so celebrated a family of watch and clock
makers, he applied to the council of state and secured the right to
annex "Houdin" to his name, Jean-Eugene Robert, and thereafter was known
only as Robert-Houdin.
His life between 1838 and 1844 was divided between reading every work
obtainable on magic, and his duties in his father-in-law's shop, where
he not only made and repaired clocks, but built and repaired automata of
various sorts. His family shared with him many financial vicissitudes,
and about 1842-43 his first wife died, leaving him with three young
children to raise. Earlier in his "Memoirs" he speaks of having four
children, so it is more than likely that one died before his wife. He
married again soon, and though he gives his second wife great credit as
a helpmate he does not state her name.
[Illustration: Robert-Houdin as he appeared to the English critics.
Reproduced from the _Illustrated London News_, December 23d, 1848.]
[Illustration: ROBERT HOUDIN'S SOIREES FANTASTIQUES
Poster used in 1848 in London by Robert-Houdin. From the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
By this time he had acquired more than passing fame as a repairer of
automata, and in 1844 he mended Vaucanson's marvellous duck, one of the
most remarkable automata ever made. Doubtless other automata found
their way to his workshop and aided him in his study of a profession
which he still hoped to follow. During these discouraging times he was
often assisted financially by one Monsieur G----, who either advanced
money on his automata or bought them outright. In the same year, 1844,
he retired to a suburb of Paris, and there, he asserts, he built his
famous writing and drawing figure.
[Illustration: Poster for the Emile-Houdin benefit at St. James's
Theatre in 1848. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
The next year, 1845, he was assisted by Count de L'Escalopier, a devotee
of conjuring and automata, who advanced the money to fit up and furnish
a small theatre in the Palais Royal. Robert-Houdin went about the work
of decorating and furnishing this theatre with a view to securing the
most dramatic and brilliant effects, surrounding his simple tricks with
a setting that made them vastly different from the same offerings by his
predecessors. He was what is called to-day an original producer of old
ideas. On June 25th, 1845, he gave his first private performance before
a few friends. On July 3d of the same year his theatre of magic was
opened formally to the public. The programme of this performance is
shown on page 37.
It will be noted that the famous writing and drawing figure was not then
included in Robert-Houdin's répertoire, nor does it ever appear on any
of his programmes. He exhibited it at the quinquennial exhibition in
1844, received a silver medal for it, and very soon sold it to the late
P. T. Barnum, who exported it to America.
[Illustration: Poster used by Robert-Houdin when he played at Sadler's
Wells, London, in 1853. He never refers to this engagement in his
writings because he was not proud of having appeared in a second-class
theatre, while his rival, Anderson, held the fashionable audiences at
the St. James's, where Robert-Houdin had worn out his welcome. From the
Harry Houdini Collection.]
This question naturally arises: If Robert-Houdin built the original
writing and drawing figure, why could he not make a duplicate and
include it in his programme? Surely it was one of the most remarkable of
the automata which he claims as the creations of his brain and hands.
In 1846 he claims to have invented second sight, and at the opening of
the season in 1847 he presented as his own creation the suspension
trick. During the interim he played an engagement in Brussels which was
a financial failure.
In 1848 the Revolution closed the doors of Parisian theatres,
Robert-Houdin's among the rest, and he returned to clockmaking and
automata building, until he received from John Mitchell, who had met
with great success in managing Ludwig Döbler and Phillippe, an offer to
appear in London at the St. James's Theatre. This engagement was a
brilliant success and for the first time in his career Robert-Houdin
reaped big financial returns.
Later Robert-Houdin toured the English provinces under his own
management and made return trips to London, but his tour under Mitchell
was the most notable engagement of his career.
[Illustration: Robert-Houdin's grave, in the cemetery at Blois, France.
From a photograph taken by the author, especially for this work, and now
in the Harry Houdini Collection.]
In 1850, while playing in Paris, he decided to retire, and to turn over
his theatre and tricks to one Hamilton. A contemporary clipping, taken
from an English newspaper of 1848, goes to prove that Hamilton was an
Englishman who entered Robert-Houdin's employ. Hamilton signed a dual
contract, agreeing to produce Robert-Houdin's tricks as his acknowledged
successor and to marry Robert-Houdin's sister, thus keeping the tricks
and the theatre in the family. During the next two years Robert-Houdin
spent part of his time instructing his brother-in-law in all the
mysteries of his art. In July, 1852, he played a few engagements in
Germany, including Berlin and various bathing resorts, and then
formally retired to his home at St. Gervais. Here he continued to work
along mechanical and electrical lines, and in 1855 he again came into
public notice, winning awards at the Exhibition for electrical power as
applied to mechanical uses. In 1856, according to his autobiography, he
was summoned from his retirement by the Government to make a trip to
Algeria and there intimidate revolting Arabs by the exhibition of his
sleight-of-hand tricks. These were greatly superior to the work of the
Marabouts or Arabian magicians, whose influence was often held
responsible for revolts. What Robert-Houdin received for performing
this service is not set forth in any of his works. He spent the fall of
1856 in Algeria.
[Illustration: Bas-relief on Robert-Houdin tombstone. From a photograph
taken by the author, especially for this work, and now in the Harry
Houdini Collection.]
From the date of his return to St. Gervais to the time of his death,
June 13th, 1871, Robert-Houdin devoted his energies to improving his
inventions and writing his books, though, as stated before, it was
generally believed by contemporary magicians that in the latter task he
entrusted most of the real work to a Parisian journalist whose name was
never known.
He was survived by a wife, a son named Emile, and a step-daughter. Emile
Houdin managed his father's theatre until his death in 1883, when the
theatre was sold for 35,000 francs. The historic temple of magic still
stands under the title of "Théâtre Robert-Houdin," under the management
of M. Melies, a maker of motion picture films.
[Illustration: The last photograph taken of Robert-Houdin and used as
the frontispiece for the original French edition of his "Memoirs,"
published in 1868.]
During my investigations in Paris, I was shocked to find how little the
memory of Robert-Houdin was revered and how little was known of France's
greatest magician. In fact, I was more than once informed that
Robert-Houdin was still alive and giving performances at the theatre
which bears his name.
Contemporary magicians of Robert-Houdin and men of high repute in other
walks of life seem to agree that Robert-Houdin was an entertainer of
only average merit. Among the men who advanced this theory were the late
Henry Evanion of whose deep interest in magic I wrote in the
introduction, Sir William Clayton who was Robert-Houdin's personal
friend in London, Ernest Basch who saw Robert-Houdin in Berlin, and T.
Bolin of Moscow, Russia, who bought all his tricks in Paris and there
saw Robert-Houdin and studied his work as a conjurer.
Robert-Houdin's contributions to literature, all of which are eulogistic
of his own talents, are as follows:
"Confidence et Révélations," published in Paris in 1858 and translated
into English by Lascelles Wraxall, with an introduction by R. Shelton
Mackenzie.
"Les Tricheries des Grecs" (Card-Sharping Exposed), published in Paris
in 1861.
"Secrets de la Prestidigitation" (Secrets of Magic), published in Paris
in 1868.
"Le Prieuré" (The Priory, being an account of his electrically equipped
house), published in Paris in 1867.
"Les Radiations Lumineuses," published in Blois in 1869.
"Exploration de la Rétinue," published in Blois, 1869.
"Magic et Physique Amusante" (oeuvre posthume), published in Paris in
1877, six years after Robert-Houdin's death.
In his autobiography, Robert-Houdin makes specific claim to the honor of
having invented the following tricks: The Orange Tree, Second Sight,
Suspension, The Cabalistic Clock, The Inexhaustible Bottle, The Pastry
Cook of the Palais Royal, The Vaulting Trapeze Automaton, and the
Writing and Drawing Figure.
His fame, which has been sung by writers of magic without number since
his death, rests principally on the invention of second sight,
suspension, and the writing and drawing automaton. It is my intention to
trace the true history of each of these tricks and of all others to
which he laid claim as inventor, and show just how small a proportion of
the credit was due to Robert-Houdin and how much he owed to magicians
who preceded him and whose brain-work he claimed as his own.
CHAPTER II
THE ORANGE-TREE TRICK
Robert-Houdin, on page 179 of the American edition of his "Memoirs,"
thus describes the orange-tree trick, which he claims as his invention:
"The next was a mysterious orange-tree, on which flowers and fruit burst
into life at the request of the ladies. As the finale, a handkerchief I
borrowed was conveyed into an orange purposely left on the tree. This
opened and displayed the handkerchief, which two butterflies took by the
corners and unfolded before the spectators."
On page 245 of the same volume he presents the programme given at the
first public performance in the Théâtre Robert-Houdin, stating:
"The performance will be composed of entirely novel Experiments invented
by M. Robert-Houdin. Among them being The Orange-Tree, etc."
Now to retrace our steps in the history of magic as set forth in
handbills and advertisements of earlier and contemporaneous newspaper
clippings describing their inventions.
Under the title of "The Apple-Tree" this mechanical trick appeared on a
Fawkes programme dated 1730. This was 115 years before Robert-Houdin
claimed it as his invention. In 1732, just before Pinchbeck's death, it
appeared on a programme used by Christopher Pinchbeck, Sr., and the
younger Fawkes. In 1784 it was included in the répertoire of the Italian
conjurer, Pinetti, in the guise of "Le Bouquet-philosophique." In 1822
the same trick, but this time called "An Enchanted Garden," was featured
by M. Cornillot, who appeared in England as the pupil and successor of
Pinetti.
[Illustration: Diagram of the orange-tree trick, from Wiegleb's "The
Natural Magic," published in 1794.]
The trick was first explained in public print by Henri Decremps in 1784
when his famous exposé of Pinetti was published under the title of "La
Magie Blanche Dévoilée," and in 1786-87 both Halle and Wiegleb exposed
the trick completely in their respective works on magic.
That Robert-Houdin was an omnivorous reader is proven by his own
writings. That he knew the history and tricks of Pinetti is proven by
his own words, for in Chapter VI. of his "Memoirs" he devoted fourteen
pages to Pinetti and the latter's relations with Torrini.
Now to prove that the tree tricks offered by Fawkes, Pinchbeck, Pinetti,
Cornillot, and Robert-Houdin were practically one and the same, and to
tell something of the history of the four magicians who featured the
trick before Robert-Houdin had been heard of:
[Illustration: Christopher Pinchbeck, Sr. This is the oldest and rarest
authentic mezzotint in the world pertaining to the history of magic.
From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
[Illustration: Clipping from the London _Daily Post_ of November 30th,
1728. Used by Christopher Pinchbeck before he joined Fawkes. From the
Harry Houdini Collection.]
Unquestionably, the real inventor of the mysterious tree was Christopher
Pinchbeck, who was England's leading mechanical genius at the close of
the seventeenth century and the beginning of the eighteenth. He was a
man of high repute, whose history is not that of the charlatan, compiled
largely from tradition, but it can be corroborated by court records,
biographical works, and encyclopædias, as well as by contemporaneous
newspaper clippings.
[Illustration: Advertisement from the London _Daily Post_ during 1730,
showing the orange tree as offered by the senior Fawkes, just previous
to his death. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
According to Vol. XLV. of the "Dictionary of National Biography," edited
by Sidney Lee and published in 1896 by Smith, Elder & Co., 15 Waterloo
Place, London: "Christopher Pinchbeck was born about 1670, possibly in
Clerkenwell, London. He was a clockmaker and inventor of the copper and
zinc alloy called after his name. He invented and made the famous
astronomico-musical clock. In Appleby's _Weekly Journal_ of July 8th,
1721, it was announced that 'Christopher Pinchbeck, inventor and maker
of the astronomico-musical clock, is removed, from St. George's Court
(now Albion Place) to the sign of the "Astronomico-Musical Clock" in
Fleet Street, near the Leg Tavern. He maketh and selleth watches of all
sorts and clocks as well for the exact indication of the time only as
astronomical, for showing the various motions and phenomena of planets
and fixed stars.' Mention is also made of musical automata in imitation
of singing birds and barrel organs for churches, as among Pinchbeck's
manufactures.
"Pinchbeck was in the habit of exhibiting collections of his automata at
fairs, sometimes in conjunction with a juggler named Fawkes, and he
entitled his stall 'The Temple of the Muses,' 'Grand Theatre of the
Muses,' or 'Multum in Parvo.' The _Daily Journal_ of August 27th, 1729,
announced that the Prince and Princess of Wales went to the Bartholomew
Fair to see his exhibition, and there were brief advertisements in _The
Daily Post_ of June 12th, 1729, and the _Daily Journal_ of August 22d
and 23d, 1729. There is still a large broadside in the British Museum
(1850 c. 10-17) headed 'Multum in Parvo,' relating to Pinchbeck's
exhibition, with a blank left for place and date, evidently intended for
use as a poster. He died November 18th, 1732; was buried November 21st,
in St. Denison's Church, Fleet Street.
"In a copy of the _Gentlemen's Magazine_, printed 1732, page 1083, there
is an engraved portrait by I. Faber, after a painting by Isaac Wood, a
reproduction of which appears in 'Britten's Clock and Watch Maker,' page
122. His will, dated November 10th, 1732, was proved in London on
November 18th."
[Illustration: A very rare mezzotint of Christopher Pinchbeck, Jr.,
combining the work of Cunningham, the greatest designer, and William
Humphrey, the greatest portrait etcher of his day. From the Harry
Houdini Collection.]
During one of his engagements at the Bartholomew Fair, Pinchbeck
probably met Fawkes, the cleverest sleight-of-hand performer that magic
has ever known, and the two joined forces. Pinchbeck made all the
automata and apparatus thereafter used by Fawkes, and, in Fawkes, he
had a master-producer of his tricks. Christopher Pinchbeck never
appeared on the program used by Fawkes, save as the maker of the
automata or apparatus, but directly after the death of the elder Fawkes,
and a few months before his own, the elder Pinchbeck appeared with the
son of his deceased partner, and was advertised as doing "the Dexterity
of Hand" performance. This indicates that he was inducting young Fawkes
into all the mysteries of the profession at which the two elder men, as
friends and business partners, had done so well.
Christopher Pinchbeck was survived by two sons, Edward and Christopher,
Jr. Edward, the elder, succeeded to his father's shop and regular
business. He was born about 1703, and was well along in years when he
entered into his patrimony, which he advertised in _The Daily Post_ of
November 27th, 1732, as follows: "The toys made of the late Mr.
Pinchbeck's curious metal are now sold only by his son and sole
executor, Mr. Edward Pinchbeck."
This announcement settles forever the oft-disputed question as to
whether the alloy of copper and zinc which bears the name of Pinchbeck
was invented by Christopher Pinchbeck, Sr., or by his son Christopher,
Jr.
All newspaper and magazine descriptions of the automata invented by the
elder Pinchbeck indicate that his hand was as cunning as his brain was
inventive, for they showed the most delicate mechanism, and included
entire landscapes with figures of rare grace in motion.
[Illustration: The best portrait of Isaac Fawkes in existence. The
original, now in the Harry Houdini Collection, is supposed to have been
engraved by Sutton Nichols. It is said that there is only one more of
these engravings extant.]
"Christopher, the second son of Christopher Pinchbeck the elder,"
continues the biographical sketch, "was born about 1710 and possessed
great mechanical ingenuity. While the elder son, Edward, was made
executor and continued his father's trade in a quiet, conservative
fashion, the younger son struck out along new lines and became even more
famous as an inventor than his brilliant father had been.
[Illustration: An early Fawkes advertisement, clipped from a London
paper of 1725. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
"He was a member and at one time president of the Smeatonian Society,
the precursor of the Institution of Civil Engineers. In 1762 he devised
a self-acting pneumatic brake for preventing accidents to the men
employed in working wheel-cranes. In _The Gentlemen's Magazine_ for
June, 1765, page 296, it is recorded that Messrs. Pinchbeck and Norton
had made a complicated astronomical clock for the Queen's house, some of
the calculations of the wheel having been made by James Ferguson, the
astronomer. There is no proof that Pinchbeck and Norton were ever in
partnership, and there are now two clocks answering to the description
at Buckingham Palace, one by Pinchbeck, with four dials and of a very
complicated construction, and another by Norton.
[Illustration: A clipping from the _Daily Post_, London showing that
Fawkes combined forces with Powel, the famous Bartholomew Fair puppet
man. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
"Pinchbeck took out three patents: the first (No. 892), granted 1768,
was for an improved candlestick with a spring socket for holding the
candle firmly, and an arrangement whereby the candle always occupied an
upright position, however the candlestick might be held. In 1768 (patent
No. 899) he patented his nocturnal remembrancer, a series of tablets
with notches, to serve as guides for writing in the dark. His snuffers
(No. 1119) patented 1776, continued to be made in Birmingham until the
last forty years or so, when snuffers began to go out of use. In 1774 he
presented to the Society of Arts a model of a plough for mending roads.
Pinchbeck's name first appears in the London directory in 1778, when it
replaced that of Richard Pinchbeck, toyman, of whom nothing is recorded.
"Christopher Pinchbeck, Jr., was held in considerable esteem by George
III., and he figures in Wilkes' London Museum (ii-33) in 1770 in the
list of the party who called themselves the King's friends. He died
March 17th, 1783, aged 73, and was buried in St. Martin's-in-the-Fields.
His will, which was very curious, is printed in full in _The Horological
Journal_ of November, 1895. One of his daughters married William Hebb,
who was described as 'son-in-law and successor of the late Mr. Pinchbeck
at his shop in Cockspur Street' (imprinted on Pinchbeck's portrait),
whose son Christopher Henry Hebb (1772-1861) practised as a surgeon in
Worcester. There is in existence a portrait of Christopher Pinchbeck the
younger, by Cunningham, engraved by W. Humphrey."
The mezzotints of the Pinchbecks, father and son, herewith reproduced,
are extremely rare, and when I unearthed them in Berlin I felt myself
singularly favored in securing two such treasures of great value to the
history of magic. S. Wohl, the antiquarian and dealer from whom they
were purchased, acquired them during a tour of old book and print shops
in England, and thought them portraits of one and the same person; but
by studying the names of the artists and the engravers on the two
pictures, it will be seen that they set forth the features of father and
son, as indicated by the biographical notes quoted above.
Of the early history of Fawkes, whose brilliant stage performance lent
to the Pinchbeck automata a new lustre, little is known. It is
practically impossible to trace his family history. His Christian name
was never used on his billing nor published in papers or magazines, and
after repeated failures I was about to give up the task of discovering
it, when in 1904, aided by R. Bennett, the clerk of St.
Martin's-in-the-Fields Parish Church, Trafalgar Square, London, England,
I came upon the record of his burial. This record, which I found after
many days' search among musty, faded parchments, showed that his
Christian name was Isaac, and that he died May 25th or 29th, 1731, and
was buried in St. Martin's-in-the-Fields Parish Church.
[Illustration: Clipping from the London _Post_ during 1728, showing the
oldest evidence procurable of the original "Two a Night" performance.
From the Harry Houdini Collection:
At FAWKES's Booth in the Upper Moorfields, will be presented the
following Entertainments,
First his Famous Posture-Master, that for his wonderful dexterity of
Body exceeds all Europe. 2. The Musical Temple of Arts, with two moving
Pictures, the one a Concert of Musick, the other the Siege and Bay of
Gibraltar, being the finest Piece of Clock-work in the World. 3d.
Another Machine with three moving Pictures, the first represents the
Hill of Parnassus, with Apollo and the Nine Muses playing on various
Instruments of Musick, with next a beautiful View of a River, with Swans
and other Fowls and Fish, sporting as tho' Alive. The last gives a
Prospect of the New Palace Yard, with the whole Procession of the late
Coronation of their preseat Majesties marching from the Hall to the
Abbey,
Note, Half the Performance can't be express'd in this advertisement.
Note, We show twice every Evening, the First beginning at Five, the
other at Seven.]
The records further show that he was buried in the church vault, the
coffin being carried by six men. Prayers were said in the church,
candles were used, and the great bell was tolled. As the fees amounted
to £6 12s., a goodly sum for those days, all signs indicate that the
funeral was on a scale more costly and impressive than the ordinary.
Fawkes was worth at his death £10,000, which was considered an enormous
sum in those days. Every penny of this he made performing at the fairs.
The earliest announcements of Fawkes' performance in my collection are
dated 1702 and include advertisements headed "Fawkes and Powel,"
"Fawkes and Phillips," and "Fawkes and Pinchbeck." Powel was the famous
puppet man, Phillips a famous posture master (known to-day as
contortionist), and Pinchbeck was the greatest of mechanicians. Fawkes
seems to have possessed a singular gift for picking out desirable
partners.
[Illustration: Clipping from the London _Post_, February 7th, 1724, in
which Fawkes announces his retirement and offers to teach his tricks to
all comers. Below this announcement is the advertisement of Clench,
famous as an imitator and an instrumentalist.]
From this mass of evidence I am producing various clippings. By a
peculiar coincidence one of these I believe offers the most authentic
and earliest record of "two a night" performances in England.
In my collection are a number of other clippings from the press of the
same year, in April and May, 1728, but none of them says "twice a
night," therefore I judge that the custom of giving two performances in
a night was tried previously to April, 1728, and then abandoned, or
after the first of May.
[Illustration: Clipping from the London _Daily Post_ of August, 1735, in
which Fawkes advertises his admission price as twelvepence. From the
Harry Houdini Collection.]
In the London _Post_ of February 7th, 1724, Fawkes announced an
exhibition "in the Long Room over the piazza at the Opera House in the
Haymarket." At this time he also advertised the fact that he was about
to retire and was exposing all his tricks. The clipping of that date
from my collection has the following foot-note: "Likewise he designs to
follow this business no longer than this season; so he promises to learn
any lady or gentleman his fancies in dexterity of hand for their own
diversion."
When Fawkes was not in partnership with some puppet showman, he always
advertised his own puppets as "A court of the richest and largest
figures ever shown in England, being as big as men and women!" His
admission charges varied, but 12 pence seemed his favorite figure.
About six years before his death he had his own theatre in James Street,
near the Haymarket, in which he exhibited for months at a time before
and after fairs.
[Illustration: Clipping from the London _Post_, showing that young
Fawkes collaborated with Pinchbeck and together they offered the
orange-tree trick in 1732. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
I reproduce a clipping from my collection showing Fawkes' last program.
Here it will be seen that his first trick was causing a tree to grow up
in a flower-pot on the table, and bear fruit in a minute's time. In _The
Gentlemen's Magazine_, that oft-quoted and most reliable periodical, of
February 15th, 1731, readers were informed that the Algerian Ambassadors
witnessed Fawkes' performance.
[Illustration: Clipping from the London _Post_, August 16th, 1736, when
young Fawkes was playing alone. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
At their request he showed them "a prospect of Algiers, and raised up an
apple-tree which bore ripe fruit in less than a minute's time, which
several of the company tasted of."
Fawkes, too, had a son, and thus the partnership and the friendship
which had existed between the elder Fawkes and the elder Pinchbeck were
carried on by the second generation. All of the marvellous apparatus
made by Pinchbeck the elder, for Fawkes, may have been bequeathed by the
latter to his son, but, in 1732, Pinchbeck the elder and Fawkes the
younger were in a booth together, and Pinchbeck was advertised as doing
"the dexterity of hand" performances. After Christopher Pinchbeck, Sr.,
died, young Fawkes started out on his own account. In 1746, according to
an advertisement in my collection, a Fawkes and a Pinchbeck were
together again, so the son of Pinchbeck must have joined the younger
Fawkes for exhibition purposes. The accompanying clippings from
contemporary publications trace the history of young Fawkes, and prove
that the tree which bore fruit in a minute's time was still on his
programme.
[Illustration: Reproduction of page 1226 of Hone's "Every-Day Book" in
the Harry Houdini Collection. This is a portrait of Fawkes, engraved on
a fan by Setchels in 1721 or 1728. Fans like these were distributed at
the Bartholomew Fair.]
For many years it was supposed that only one portrait of Fawkes was in
existence, but it now seems that three were made. I publish them all,
something which no one has ever before been able to do. One was taken
from a Setchels fan published about 1728, although some authorities say
1721. It appeared in Hone's "Every-Day Book," page 1226. Another, I
believe, was engraved by Sutton Nicols, as Hone mentions it in his
description of Fawkes. In the fan engraving, it will be noticed that
there appears a man wearing a star on his left breast. It is said that
this is Sir Robert Walpole, who was Prime Minister while Fawkes was at
the height of his success, and who was one of the conjurer's great
admirers. Hogarth also placed Fawkes in one of his engravings as the
frontispiece of a most diverting brochure on "Taste," in which he
belittles Burlington Gate. This makes the third portrait from my
collection herewith reproduced.
According to an article contributed by Mons. E. Raynaly in the
_Illusionniste_ of June, 1903, the orange tree next appeared in the
répertoire of a remarkable peasant conjurer, whose billing Mons. Raynaly
found among "Affiches de Paris." This performer was billed as the
Peasant of North Holland, and gave hourly performances at the yearly
fairs at Saint-Germain.
It is more than possible that he purchased this trick from Fawkes or
Pinchbeck, having seen it at the Bartholomew Fair in England.
He featured the orange tree as follows: "He has a Philosophical Flower
Pot, in which he causes to grow on a table in the presence of the
spectators trees which flower, and then the flowers fall, and fruit
appears absolutely ripe and ready to be eaten."
His posters are dated 1746-47 and 1751.
The next programme on which the mysterious tree appears is a Pinetti
handbill, dated in London, 1784, when the following announcement was
made:
"Signore Pinetti will afterwards present the assembly with a Tree called
Le Bouquet-philosophique composed of small branches of an orange-tree,
the leaves appearing green and natural. He will put it under a bottle,
and at some distance, by throwing some drops of water of his own
composition, the leaves will begin to change and the bouquet will
produce natural flowers and various fruits."
[Illustration: Masquerade and opera at Burlington Gate. Reproduction of
Hogarth's engraving entitled "Taste," belittling the artistic taste of
London. This caricature verifies the Fawkes advertisement, reproduced on
page 64, for here the conjurer is pictured leaning from the window of
the "long room" and calling attention to his performances. From the
Harry Houdini Collection.]
Pinetti is one of the most fascinating and picturesque figures in the
history of magic. His full name was Joseph Pinetti de Willedal, and,
like Pinchbeck and Fawkes, he was a man of parts and readily made
friends with the nobility. In fact, there is some question as to whether
he did not come of a noble family.
He was born in 1750 in Orbitelle, a fortified town once claimed by
Tuscany. What can be gleaned regarding his early history goes to prove
that his family connections were excellent and his education of the
best. One of his portraits, reproduced herewith, shows a half-crown of
laurel decorating the frame, and on one side of the bust is a globe,
while in the rear of the picture is a stack of books. This would
establish his claim that he was once a professor of physics and
geography. In fact, the legend beneath the portrait, being translated
from the French, runs:
"I. I. Pinetti Willedal de Merci, Professor and Demonstrator of Physics,
Chevalier of the Order of St. Philipe, Geographical Engineer, Financial
Counselor of H.R.H. Prince of Linbourg Holstein, Born in Orbitelle in
1750."
[Illustration: A wood-cut used by Pinetti during his engagement at
Hamburg, Germany, in October, 1796. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
As it has so often happened in the history of savants and students,
there ran in Pinetti's blood a love of the mysterious with that peculiar
strain of charalatanism which went to make up the clever performer in
old-time magic. Evidently he resigned his duties as a professor for the
more picturesque life of the travelling magician, and he is first heard
from in this capacity in the French provinces in 1783. His fame quickly
carried him to Paris, where in 1784 he appeared before the court of
Louis XVI. His arrival was most opportune, for just then all Paris and,
for that matter, all Europe had been aroused to a new interest in magic
by the brilliant Cagliostro.
[Illustration: The only authentic portrait of Pinetti in existence, the
only known copy extant being in the Harry Houdini Collection.]
From Paris he went to London, playing at the Haymarket and creating a
sensation equal to that which he made in France. Later he toured
Germany, playing in Berlin and Hamburg. Next he went back to his native
land, Italy, but later returned to Germany for a second engagement. In
1789 he appeared in Russia and never left that country. There he married
a Russian girl, daughter of a carriage manufacturer. They had two
children. Pinetti would have left enormous wealth, but in his later
years he became interested in ballooning, the sensation of the hour, and
spent his entire fortune on balloon experiments. He died in Bartichoff,
Volhinie, aged fifty years.
[Illustration: Henri Decremps, the French author who exposed and
endeavored to ruin Pinetti, but succeeded only in immortalizing him.]
Pinetti was a man of rare inventive genius and almost reconstructed the
art of conjuring, so numerous were his inventions. For half a century
after his death his successors drew upon Pinetti's inventions and
répertoire for their programmes. Naturally such ability aroused bitter
jealousies, especially as Pinetti made no attempt to conciliate his
contemporaries, either magicians or writers on magic. He issued one
book, whose title-page reads:
"Amusements Physiques et Differentes Expériences Divertissements,
Composées et Executées, tant à Paris que dans les diverses Courts de
l'Europe. Par M. Joseph Pinetti de Willedal, Romain, Chevalier de
l'Ordre Mérite de Saint-Phillipe, Professeur de Mathématiques et de
Physiques, Protégé par toute la Maison Royale de France, Pensionnaire de
la Cour de Prusse, etc., 1785."
The work, however, was not a clear and lucid explanation of his methods
and tricks. In fact some of his contemporaries claimed that he
deliberately misrepresented his methods of performing tricks. Among
these writers was Henri Decremps, a brilliant professor of mathematics
and physics in Paris, who proceeded to expose all of Pinetti's tricks in
the book referred to in the preceding chapter, "La Magie Blanche
Dévoilée." This work was in five volumes and was so popular in its day
that it was translated into nearly every modern language. The following
explanation of the trick is taken from page 56 of the English
translation, entitled "The Conjurer Unmasked":
"The branches of the tree may be made of tin or paper, so as to be
hollow from one end to the other in order that the air which enters at
the bottom may find its exit at the top of the branch. These branches
are so adjusted that at intervals there appear twigs made from brass
wire, but the whole so decorated with leaves made from parchment that
the ensemble closely resembles nature.
"The end of each branch is dilated to contain small pieces of gummed
silk or very fine gold-beater's skin, which are to catch the figures of
the flowers and fruit when the latter expand by the air driven through
the branches to which they were fastened by a silk thread.
[Illustration: Decremps's signature written by himself on the last page
of a copy of his book now in the Harry Houdini Library.]
"The tree or nosegay is then placed on a table, through which runs a
glass tube to supply air from beneath the stage, where a confederate
works this end of the trick, and causes the tree to 'grow' at the
prearranged signal."
Later it was described as being accomplished entirely by springs, and
real oranges were first stuck on the tree by means of pegs or pins, and
the leaves were so secured around them that at first appearance they
could not be seen. Then a piston was used to spread all the leaves,
another that forced the blossom up through the hollow branches, etc.
Pinetti's personality was almost as extraordinary as his talents. A
handsome man who knew how to carry himself, acquiring the graces and the
dress of the nobility, he became rather haughty, if not arrogant, in his
bearing. He so antagonized his contemporaries in the fields of magic and
literature that he was advertised as much by his bitter enemies as by
his loving friends. Many of his methods of attracting attention to
himself were singularly like those employed by modern press agents of
theatrical stars. He never trusted to his performances in theatres and
drawing-rooms to advertise his abilities, but demonstrated his art
wherever he appeared, from barber-shops to cafés.
Perhaps the best pen pictures of Pinetti and his methods are furnished
by E. G. Robertson in his "Memoirs." Robertson was a contemporary of
Pinetti, and, like him, a pioneer in ballooning. His "Memoirs," written
in the French language, were published in 1831. The following extracts
from this interesting book tell much of Pinetti's life in Russia and of
his professional history as tradition and actual acquaintance had
presented it to M. Robertson:
"Pinetti had travelled a great deal and for a long time had enjoyed a
great European reputation. He had done everything to attain it. There
was never a man that carried further the art of the 'charlatisme.' When
he arrived in a town where he intended to give a show, he took good care
to prepare his public by speeches, which would keep it in suspense. In
St. Petersburg great and incredible examples of mystification and of
prestidigitation were told about him.
"One day he went to a barber-shop to get shaved, sat down in the chair,
had the towel tied around his neck, and laid his head back ready for the
lather. The barber left him in this position to get hot water, and when
he returned, guided by force of habit, he applied the lather where the
chin should be, but he found feet, arms, hands, and body in a coat, but
no head! Such lamentations! No more head! What could it mean? He opened
the door, and, frightened to death, ran away. Pinetti then went to the
window and called the barber back. He had put his head in his coat in
such a clever way, covering it with his handkerchief, that the surprise
and the fright of the barber were quite natural. Of course this barber
did not fail to spread over the whole town that he had shaved a man who
could take his head off and on to his wish.
[Illustration: Frontispiece of Pinetti's book, "Amusements Physiques,"
published in Paris, 1785, one of the first treasures of the Evanion
Collection purchased by the author.]
[Illustration: Pinetti's autograph, written by him on the back of the
frontispiece, reproduced on page 78. Original in the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
"Pinetti met in a summer-garden a young Russian who sold small cakes. He
bought a few cakes, bit into them, and complained of finding a hard
substance. The youth protested, but Pinetti opened the cake before him
and found inside a gold piece. The magician pocketed the gold piece,
bought another cake, then a third cake, and in each case found a new
gold piece inside. He tried to buy the rest of the cakes. The passers-by
had in the mean time come round the seller, and everybody wanted to buy
as well. The market seemed to be all right, a ducat for a kopeck! Twelve
francs for a cent! The young man refused to sell any more, hurried away,
and when alone opened the cakes that were left. He found only the
substances of which the cakes were made--nothing else. He had two left,
so he hurried back to offer these to Pinetti. Pinetti bought them from
him, opened them and showed in each one the gold piece, which the young
man could not find in the two dozen cakes which he had spoilt. The poor
boy bit his lips and looked at Pinetti with wondering, frightened eyes.
This little adventure was advertised here, there, and everywhere, and
was told in the clubs and in the society gatherings, and very soon the
name of Pinetti gave the key to the enigma, and Pinetti was in demand by
everybody.
"When Pinetti came on the stage, he had the knack of attracting members
of the nobility around his table, by letting them learn some small
secrets. This would render them confederates in working his tricks. He
would appear in rich suits, embroidered in gold, which he changed three
and four times in the evening. He would not hesitate to deck himself in
a quantity of foreign decorations. In Berlin it was told how Pinetti
would go through the streets, in a carriage drawn by four white horses.
He was clad in fine embroidery and decorated with medals of all nations.
Several times it happened that, as he passed by, the soldiers would call
arms and salute, taking him for a prince. One day the King of Prussia
rode out in his modest carriage drawn by two horses. Ahead of him drove
the supposed prince. When the King witnessed the mistake made by his
soldiers, he made inquiries as to the rank of this man to whom his men
were paying such honor, then gave the Cavalier Pinetti twenty-four hours
to get beyond Prussia's borders."
[Illustration: Reproduction of a handbill distributed on the streets of
London in September, 1822. The orange-tree trick is on the bill under
the name of "Enchanted Garden." From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Whatever may be said of Pinetti's charlatanism, it must be admitted that
he gave to the art of conjuring a great impetus which was felt for
several generations. It is not remarkable, therefore, that when the
French magician Cornillot appeared in London in 1822 he announced
himself as the pupil and successor of Pinetti. This was when
Robert-Houdin was seventeen years of age, twenty-three years before he
made his professional début, and on Cornillot's programme we find
another version of the now famous and almost familiar tree trick. As
will be seen from the accompanying reproduction of a Cornillot handbill,
the tree now appears as "An Enchanted Garden," and, if the wording of
the bill is to be believed, Cornillot had improved the trick and was
using more than one tree or plant.
Cornillot remained in England for some time and is classed among the
conjurers of good repute. Another bill in my collection shows that he
played at the Theatre of Variety, Catherine Street, Strand, in October,
1823. He was then assisted by several singers and dancers, including the
famous Misses Hamilton and Howe, pupils of M. Corri. In his company was
also an Anglo-Chinese juggler, who, in addition to feats of juggling,
"swallows an egg, a sword, and a stone, a la Ramo Samee."
To sum up the evidence against Robert-Houdin in this particular trick:
Four magicians of high repute gave public performances before
Robert-Houdin knew and operated the orange-tree trick. Three eminent
writers exposed it clearly and accurately. Robert-Houdin, as an
indefatigable student of the history of magic, must have known of the
trick and its _modus operandum_. He may have purchased it from
Cornillot, or as a clever mechanician he had only to reproduce the trick
invented by his predecessors, train his confederate in its
operation--and--by his cleverly written autobiography--attempt to
establish his claim to its invention.
CHAPTER III
THE WRITING AND DRAWING FIGURE
In his "Memoirs" Robert-Houdin eulogizes the various automata which he
claims to have invented. The picturesque fashion in which he describes
the tremendous effort put forth ere success crowned his labors would
render his arguments most convincing--if stern historical facts did not
contradict his every statement.
One of the most extraordinary mechanical figures which he exploits as
his invention was the writing and drawing figure, which he exhibited at
the Quinquennial Exhibition in 1844, but never used in his public
performances, though he asserts that he planned to exhibit it between
performances at his own theatre. This automaton, he says, laid the
foundation of his financial success and opened the way to realizing his
dream of appearing as a magician.
[Illustration: Writing and drawing figure claimed by Robert-Houdin as
his invention. From Manning's Robert-Houdin brochure.]
On page 196 of his "Memoirs," American edition, he starts his romantic
description of its conception and manufacture. According to this he had
just planned what promised to be the most brilliant of his mechanical
inventions when financial difficulties intervened. He was obliged to
raise two thousand francs to meet a pressing debt. He applied to the
ever-convenient Monsieur G----, who had bought automata from him before.
He described the writing and drawing figure minutely to his patron, who
immediately agreed to advance two thousand five hundred francs, and if
the figure was completed in eighteen months, two thousand five hundred
francs more were to be paid for it, making five thousand francs in all.
If the figure was never completed, then Monsieur G---- was to reimburse
himself for the amount advanced by selecting automatic toys from
Robert-Houdin's regular stock.
After liquidating his debt, Robert-Houdin retired to Belleville, a
suburb of Paris, where for eighteen months he worked upon the figure,
seeing his family only twice a week, and living in the most frugal
fashion.
He employed a wood-carver to make the head, but the result was so
unsatisfactory that in the end he was obliged, not only to make all the
complicated machinery which operated the figure, but to carve the head
itself, which, he adds, in some miraculous fashion, resembled himself.
This resemblance, however, cannot be traced in existing cuts of the
figure.
The chapter devoted to this particular automaton is so diverting that I
quote literally from its pages, thus giving my readers an opportunity to
take the true measure of the writer and the literary style of his
"Memoirs." Here is his description of his moment of triumph:
"I had only to press a spring in order to enjoy the long-waited-for
result. My heart beat violently, and though I was alone I trembled at
the mere thought of this imposing trial. I had just laid the first sheet
of paper before my writer and asked him this question: 'Who is the
author of your being?' I pressed the spring, and the clockwork
started--began acting. I dared hardly breathe through fear of disturbing
the operations. The automaton bowed to me, and I could not refrain from
smiling on it as on my own son. But when I saw the eyes fix an attentive
glance on the paper--when the arm, a few seconds before numb and
lifeless, began to move and trace my signature in a firm hand--the tears
started in my eyes and I fervently thanked Heaven for granting me
success. And it was not alone the satisfaction I experienced as an
inventor, but the certainty I had of being able to restore some degree
of comfort to my family, that caused my deep feeling of gratitude.
"After making my Sosia repeat my signature a thousand times, I gave it
this question: 'What o'clock is it?' The automaton, acting in obedience
to the clock, wrote, 'It is two in the morning.' This was a timely
warning. I profited by it and went straight to bed."
[Illustration: Specimens of penmanship executed by the Droz writing
automaton in 1796 and 1906 respectively. From the brochure issued by the
Society of History and Archæology, Canton of Neuchatel, Switzerland.]
Robert-Houdin injects a little humor into this chapter, for he relates
that as Molière and J. J. Rousseau consulted their servants, he decided
to do likewise; so early the next morning he invited his portress and
her husband, Auguste, a stone-mason, to be present at the first
performance of the figure. The mason's wife chose the question, "What is
the emblem of fidelity?" The automaton replied by drawing a pretty
little greyhound, lying on a cushion. The stone-mason wished to see the
works, saying: "I understand about that sort of thing, for I have always
greased the vane on the church steeple, and have even taken it down
twice."
When the work was completed, according to page 208 of the American
edition of his "Memoirs," he returned to Paris, collected the remaining
two thousand five hundred francs due him from Monsieur G----, to whom he
delivered the figure, and two thousand francs more on an automatic
nightingale made for a rich merchant of St. Petersburg. Incidentally he
mentions that during his absence his business had prospered, but he
fails to state who managed it for him, and here is where I believe
credit should be given Opre, the Dutch inventor, who was unquestionably
Robert-Houdin's assistant for years.
In 1844 he claims to have borrowed the writing and drawing figure from
the obliging Monsieur G---- to exhibit it at the Quinquennial
Exposition, where it attracted the attention of Louis Philippe and his
court, thus insuring its exhibitor the silver medal.
At this point Robert-Houdin deliberately drops the writing and drawing
figure, leaving his readers to believe that it was returned to its
rightful owner, Monsieur G----, but, unfortunately for his claims,
another historian steps in here to cast reflections on Monsieur G---- 's
ownership of the figure. This writer is the world's greatest showman,
the late P. T. Barnum, who purchased the figure at this same exposition
of 1844, paying for it a goodly sum, and this incident is one of the
significant omissions of the Robert-Houdin "Memoirs." Either
Robert-Houdin sold the figure to Mr. Barnum for Monsieur G----, or such
a person as Monsieur G---- never existed, for in his own book Mr. Barnum
writes:
"When I was abroad in 1844 I went to Paris expressly to attend the
'Quinquennial Exposition'--an exhibition then held every five years. I
met and became well acquainted with a celebrated conjurer, as he called
himself, Robert-Houdin, but who was not only a prestidigitateur and
legerdemain performer, but a mechanic of absolute genius. I bought at
the exposition the best automaton he exhibited and for which he obtained
a gold medal. I paid a round price for this most ingenious little
figure, which was an automaton writer and artist. It sat on a small
table, pencil in hand; and, if asked, for instance, for an emblem of
'fidelity,' it would instantly draw the picture of a handsome dog; if
love was wanted, a cupid was exquisitely pencilled. The automaton would
also answer many questions in writing. I took this curiosity to London,
where it was exhibited for some time at the Royal Adelaide Gallery, and
then I sent it across the Atlantic to my American Museum, where it
attracted great attention from the people and the press. During my
visit, Houdin was giving evening legerdemain performances, and by his
pressing invitation I frequently was present. He took great pains, too,
to introduce me to other inventors and exhibitors of moving figures,
which I liberally purchased, making them prominent features in the
attractions of the American Museum."
[Illustration: The late P. T. Barnum, the world's greatest showman, who
bought the writing and drawing figure from Robert-Houdin, and wrote at
length of the French conjurer in his autobiography. Born July 5, 1810.
Died April 7, 1891. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
[Illustration: The figure of Cupid as executed by the Droz drawing
figure. From the brochure issued by the Society of History and
Archæology, Canton of Neuchatel, Switzerland.]
Barnum then continued to describe Robert-Houdin's greatness and his
cleverness in the use of electricity. The showman was always a welcome
guest at the magician's house, and he relates how, at luncheon time,
Robert-Houdin would touch a knob and through the floor would rise a
table, laden with inviting viands. These details in the Barnum book make
it all the more inexplicable that Robert-Houdin should omit all mention
of the great showman's name in his "Memoirs."
[Illustration: Hanger advertising the Professor Faber talking machine,
exhibited by P. T. Barnum during 1873 in his museum department. This
automaton was the first talking figure. From the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
Just at this time the amusement-seeking public seemed greatly interested
in automata, so it was only natural that Barnum, great showman that he
was, should scour Europe for mechanical figures. Soon after he purchased
the writing and drawing figure claimed by Robert-Houdin, he brought to
America a talking figure invented by Professor Faber of Vienna, to which
he refers most entertainingly in his address to the public dated 1873:
"The Museum department contains 100,000 curiosities, including Professor
Faber's wonderful talking machine, costing me $20,000 for its use for
six months; also the National Portrait Gallery of one hundred life-size
paintings, including all the Presidents of the United States, etc.; John
Rogers' groups of historic statuary; almost an endless variety of
curiosities, including numberless automaton musicians, mechanicians, and
moving scenes, etc., etc., made in Paris and Geneva."
It can be imagined how wonderful this talking machine must have been
when Barnum gave it special emphasis, selecting it from the hundreds of
curios he had on exhibition. As this talking machine is probably
forgotten, I will reproduce the bill used at the time of its appearance
in London, England.
When Barnum was in London in 1844, with Gen. Tom Thumb, who was then
performing at the Egyptian Hall, he first saw the automatic talking
machine and engaged it to strengthen his show. Thirty years later Prof.
Faber's nephew was the lecturer who explained to the American public the
automaton's mechanism and also the performer who manipulated the
machine.
Barnum always speaks of the talking automaton as being a life-size
figure, but the pictures used for advertising purposes show that it was
only a head.
The fate of both the talking automaton and the writing and drawing
figure is shrouded in mystery. If they were in the Barnum Museum when
the latter was swept by fire in 1865, they were destroyed. If they had
been taken back to Europe, they may now be lying in some cellar or loft,
moth-eaten and dust-covered, ignominious end for such ingenious
brain-work and handicraft.
So much for the claims of Robert-Houdin. Now to disprove them.
The earliest record of a writing figure I have found is in the
"Dictionary of Arts, Manufactures, and Mines," compiled by Andrew Ure,
M.D., and published in New York in 1842 by Le Roy Sunderland, 126 Fulton
Street. On page 83, under the heading of "Automaton," is this statement:
"Frederick Von Knauss completed a writing machine at Vienna in the year
1760. It is now in the model cabinet of the Polytechnic Institute, and
consists of a globe two feet in diameter, containing the mechanism, upon
which sits a figure seven inches high and writes, upon a sheet of paper
fixed to a frame, whatever has been placed beforehand upon a regulating
cylinder. At the end of each line it raises and moves its hand sideways,
in order to begin a new line."
[Illustration: Portrait and autograph of Pierre Jacquet-Droz. Born 1721,
died 1790. From the brochure issued by the Society of History and
Archæology, Canton of Neuchâtel, Switzerland.]
This does not answer the description of the figure which Robert-Houdin
claims, but it is interesting as showing that mechanical genius ran
along such lines almost a hundred years before Robert-Houdin claims to
have invented the famous automaton.
The writing and drawing figure claimed by Robert-Houdin as his original
invention can be traced back directly to the shop door of Switzerland's
most noted inventor, Pierre Jacquet-Droz, who with his son, Henri-Louis,
laid the foundation of the famous Swiss watch-and music-box industry.
In the latter part of the eighteenth century, probably about 1770, the
Jacquet-Drozes turned out a drawing figure which also inscribed a few
set phrases or titles of the drawings. In mechanism, appearance, and
results it tallies almost exactly with the automaton claimed by
Robert-Houdin as originating in his brain. The Jacquet-Droz figure
showed a child clad in quaint, flowing garments, seated at a desk. The
Robert-Houdin figure was modernized, and showed a court youth in knee
breeches and powdered peruque, seated at a desk. The Jacquet-Droz figure
drew a dog, a cupid, and the heads of reigning monarchs. The
Robert-Houdin figure, made seventy-five years later, by some
inexplicable coincidence drew a dog as the symbol of fidelity, a cupid
as the emblem of love, and the heads of reigning monarchs.
The history of the Jacquet-Drozes is written in the annals of
Switzerland as well as the equally reputable annals of scientific
inventions, and cannot be refuted.
Pierre Jacquet-Droz was born July 28th, 1721, in a small village,
La-Chaux-de-Fonds, near Neuchâtel, Switzerland. According to some
authorities, his father was a clock-maker, but the brochure issued by
"Société d'Histoire et d'Archéologie" of the city of Neuchâtel, which
has recently acquired many of the Jacquet-Droz automata, states that he
was the son of a farmer and was sent to a theological seminary at Basle.
Here the youth's natural talent for mechanics overbalanced his interest
in "isms" and "ologies," and he spent every spare moment at work with
his tools. On his return to his native town he turned his attention
seriously to clock- and watch-making, constructing a marvellous clock
with two peculiar hands which, in passing each other, touched the dial
and rewound the clock.
[Illustration: Henri-Louis Jacquet-Droz, son of Pierre Jacquet-Droz, and
the superior of his father as a mechanician. Born Oct. 13th, 1752, died
November 15th, 1791. From the Jaquet-Droz brochure, issued by the
Neuchâtel Society of History and Archæology.]
At this time his work attracted the attention of Lord Keith, Governor of
Neuchâtel, then a province of Prussia, who induced the young inventor to
visit the court of Ferdinand VI. of Spain, providing the necessary
introductions. Pierre Jacquet-Droz remained for some time in Madrid and
made a clock of most complicated pattern. This was a perpetual calendar.
For hands, he utilized artificial sunbeams, shooting out from the sun's
face which formed the dial, to denote the hours, days, etc. With the
money received from the Spanish monarch he returned to Switzerland to
find that his son, Henri-Louis, had inherited his remarkable inventive
gifts. He sent his boy to Nancy to study music, drawing, mechanics, and
physics. During his son's absence in all probability he produced the
first of the marvellous automata which made the Jacquet-Drozes famous
the modern world over, namely, the writing figure.
With the return of Henri-Louis Jacquet-Droz from college commenced what
may be termed the golden age of mechanics in Switzerland. Associated
with father and son were the former's pupils or apprentices,
Jean-Frédéric Leschot, Jean-David Maillardet, and Jean Pierre Droz, a
blood relation who afterward became director of the mint at Paris and a
mechanician of rare talent. Jean Pierre Droz is credited with having
invented a machine for cutting, stamping, and embossing medals on the
face and on the edges at one insertion.
[Illustration: Jean-Frédéric Leschot. Born 1747, died 1824. Portrait
published by Société des Arts de Genève. Presented to the author by
Mons. Blind (Magicus) of Geneva.]
The output of this shop and its staff of gifted workers included the
first Swiss music box, the singing birds which sprang from watches and
jewel caskets, the drawing figure which was an improvement on the
writing figure, the spinet player, and the grotto with its many
automatic animals of diminutive size but exquisite workmanship. Years
were spent in perfecting the various automata, and none of them have
been equalled or even approached by later mechanicians and inventors.
Henri-Louis Jacquet-Droz was conceded to be the superior of his father,
Pierre Jacquet-Droz. In a German encyclopædia which I found at the
King's Library, Munich, it is stated that when Vaucanson, celebrated as
the inventor of "The Flute Player," "The Mechanical Duck," "The Talking
Machine," etc., saw the work of the younger Droz, he cried loudly, "Why,
that boy commences where I left off!"
According to the brochure issued by the Society of History and
Archæology, Canton of Neuchâtel, and an article contributed by Dr.
Alfred Gradenwits to _The Scientific American_ of June 22d, 1907, the
writing and drawing figures are made and operated as follows:
[Illustration: The Jacquet-Droz writing automaton. From the brochure
issued by the Society of History and Archæology, Canton of Neuchâtel,
Switzerland.]
"The writer represented a child of about four years of age, sitting at
his little table, patiently waiting with the pen in his hand until the
clockwork is started. He then sets to work and, after looking at the
sheet of paper before him, lifts his hand and moves it toward the
ink-stand, in which he dips the pen. The little fellow then throws off
an excess of ink and slowly and calmly, like an industrious child,
begins writing on the paper the prescribed sentence. His handwriting is
careful, conscientiously distinguishing between hair strokes and ground
strokes, always observing the proper intervals between letters and words
and generally showing the sober and determined character of the
handwriting usual at the time in the country of Neuchâtel. In order, for
instance, to write a T, the writer begins tracing the letter at the
top, and after slightly lifting his hand halfway, swiftly traces the
transversal dash, and continues writing the original ground stroke.
"How complicated a mechanism is required for insuring these effects will
be inferred from the illustration, in which the automaton is shown with
its back opened. In the first place a vertical disk will be noticed
having at its circumference as many notches as there are letters and
signs. Behind this will be seen whole columns of cam-wheels, each of a
special shape, placed one above another, and all together forming a sort
of spinal column for the automaton.
"Whenever the little writer is to write a given letter, a pawl is
introduced into the corresponding notch of the disk, thus lifting the
wheel column and transmitting to the hand, by the aid of a complicated
lever system and Cardan joints arranged in the elbow, the requisite
movements for tracing the letter in question. The mechanism comprises
five centres of motion connected together by chains.
[Illustration: View of the mechanism which operates the Jacquet-Droz
writing automaton. From the brochure issued by the Society of History
and Archæology, Canton of Neuchâtel, Switzerland.]
"In the 'Draftsman,' the mechanism is likewise arranged in the body
itself, as in the case of the 'Writer.' The broad chest thus entailed
also required a large head, which accounts for the somewhat bulky
appearance of the two automatons. With the paper in position and a
pencil in hand, the 'Draftsman' at first traces a few dashes and then
swiftly marks the shadows, and a dog appears on the paper. The little
artist knowingly examines his work, and after blowing away the dust and
putting in a few last touches, stops a moment and then quickly signs,
'Mon Toutou' (My pet dog). The motions of the automaton are quite
natural, and the outlines of his drawings extremely sharp. The automaton
when desired willingly draws certain crowned heads now belonging to
history; for example, a portrait of Louis XV., of Louis XVI., and of
Marie Antoinette."
[Illustration: Clipping from the London _Post_, 1776, advertising the
writing and drawing figures, exhibited by their inventor, Mr.
Jacquet-Droz. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
The automata made by the Jacquet-Drozes and their confrères were
exhibited in all the large cities of Great Britain and Continental
Europe. According to the programmes and newspaper notices in my
collection, Henri-Louis Jacquet-Droz acted as their first exhibitor. As
proof I am reproducing a Droz programme from the London _Post_, dated
1776.
In support of this advertisement, note what the same paper says in what
is probably a criticism of current amusements:
[Illustration: Heads of King George and Queen Charlotte, executed in
their presence by the Jacquet-Droz drawing figure in 1774. From the
brochure issued by the Society of History and Archæology, Canton of
Neuchâtel, Switzerland.]
"This entertainment consists of three capital mechanical figures and a
pastoral scene, with figures of an inferior size. The figure on the
left-hand side, a beautiful boy as large as life, writes anything that
is dictated to him, in a very fine hand. The second on the right hand,
of the same size, draws various landscapes, etc., etc., which he
finishes in a most accurate and masterly style. The third figure is a
beautiful young lady who plays several elegant airs on the harpsichord,
with all the bass accompaniments; her head gracefully moving to the
tune, and her bosom discovering a delicate respiration. During her
performance, the pastoral scene in the centre discovers a variety of
mechanical figures admirably grouped, all of which seem endued, as it
were, with animal life, to the admiration of the spectator. The last
curiosity is a canary bird in a cage, which whistles two or three airs
in the most natural manner imaginable. Upon the whole, the united
collection strikes us as the most wonderful exertion of art which ever
trod before so close on the heels of nature. The ingenious artist is a
young man, a native of Switzerland."
The inventory of Jacquet-Droz, Jr., dated 1786, quotes the "Piano
Player" as valued at 4,800 livres, the "Drawing Figure" at 7,200 livres,
while the "Writer" had been ceded to him by his father for 4,800 livres,
in consideration of certain improvements and modifications which
Henri-Louis Jacquet-Droz made in the original invention. This shows that
while the elder Droz did not die until 1790, his son controlled the
automata previous to this date, for exhibition and other purposes.
During his later years Henri-Louis Jacquet-Droz was induced to take the
automata to Spain. His tour was under the direction of an English
manager, who, possibly for the purpose of securing greater
advertisement, announced the figures as possessed of supernatural power.
This brought them under the ban of the Inquisition, and Jacquet-Droz was
thrown into prison. Eventually he managed to secure his freedom, and,
breathing free air once more, like the proverbial Arab, he silently
folded his tent and stole away, leaving the automata to their fate.
Henri-Louis Jacquet-Droz died in Naples, Italy, in 1791, a year after
his father's death.
[Illustration: A de Philipsthal programme of 1803 before the writing and
drawing figure came under his control. From the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
[Illustration: Poster used, March 22nd, 1811, by de Philipsthal and
Maillardet during their partnership, on which the writing and drawing
figure is featured. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
The English manager, however, tarried in Spain. The figures were "tried"
and as they proved motionless the case was dropped. The Englishman then
claimed the automata as his property and sold them to a French nobleman.
Their owner did not know how to operate them, so their great value
was never realized by his family. After his death, during a voyage to
America, they lay neglected in the castle of Mattignon, near Bayonne.
After changing hands many times, about 1803 they passed into the hands
of an inventor named Martin, and were controlled by his descendants for
nearly a hundred years. One of his family, Henri Martin, of Dresden,
Germany, exhibited them in many large cities, and advertised them for
sale at 15,000 marks in the _Muenchener_ Blaetter of May 13th, 1883.
After Martin's death, his widow succeeded in disposing of them to Herr
Marfels, of Berlin, who had them repaired with such good results that in
the fall of 1906 he sold them for 75,000 francs, or about $15,000, to
the Historical Society of Neuchâtel. In April, 1907, the writing figure,
the drawing figure, and the spinet player were on exhibition in Le
Locle, Chaux-de-Fonds, and Neuchâtel.
So far we have traced only the original writing and drawing figure. This
has been done purely to show that even if Robert-Houdin had been capable
of building such an automaton, he would not have been its real inventor,
but would merely have copied the marvellous work of the Jacquet-Drozes.
Now to trace the figure which in 1844 he claimed as his invention.
With the fame of the Neuchâtel shop spreading and the demand for Swiss
watches increasing, Maillardet and Jean Pierre Droz, apprentices or
perhaps partners of Pierre Jacquet-Droz and Henri-Louis Jacquet-Droz,
removed to London and there set up a watch factory. About this time
Maillardet invented a combination writing and drawing figure which was
pronounced by experts of the day slightly inferior to the work of the
two Jacquet-Drozes. However, it must have been worthy of exhibition, for
it appeared at intervals for the next fifty years in the amusement
world, particularly in London. At first Maillardet was not its exhibitor
nor was his name ever mentioned on the programmes and newspaper notices,
but later his name appeared as part owner and exhibitor. As the Swiss
watches had created a veritable sensation and were snatched up as fast
as produced, it is quite likely that he had no time to play the rôle of
showman.
The figure first appeared in London in 1796, when the London _Telegraph_
of January 2nd carried the advertisement reproduced on the next page.
Haddock had no particular standing in the world of magic, and it is more
than likely that he rented the automata which he exhibited, or merely
acted as showman for the real inventors.
[Illustration: Haddock advertisement in the London _Telegraph_, January,
1796, in which he features the writing automaton as an androide. From
the Harry Houdini Collection.]
[Illustration: Clipping from the London _Telegraph_ in March, 1812,
proving the partnership of de Philipsthal and Maillardet in an
"Automatical Theatre." The Mr. Louis mentioned in the advertisement as
assistant engineer later secured possession of the writing and drawing
figure. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
In quite a few works on automata, notably Sir David Brewster's "Letters
on Natural Magic," Collinson is quoted as having interviewed Maillardet
as the inventor of the combination writing and drawing figure. _The
Franklin Journal_ of June, 1827, published in Philadelphia, Pa., credits
this figure to Maillardet and gives the following description: "It was
the figure of a boy kneeling on one knee, holding a pencil in his hand,
with which he executed not only writing but drawings equal to those of
the masters. When the figure began to work, an attendant dipped the
pencil in ink, and fixed the paper, when, on touching a spring, the
figure wrote a line, carefully dotting and stroking the letters."
The Robert-Houdin figure did not kneel, but this change could be made by
a mechanician of ordinary ability.
[Illustration: A Louis programme of April 3rd, 1815, in which the
writing and drawing figure is advertised as a juvenile artist. It also
features a bird of paradise automaton which Robert-Houdin claimed to
have invented thirty years later. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
The writing and drawing figure does not reappear on amusement programmes
in my collection until 1812, when it was featured by De Philipsthal, the
inventor of "Phantasmagoria." The nature of the inventions grouped
under this title can best be judged from the reproduction of a De
Philipsthal programme, dated 1803-04, and reproduced in the course of
this chapter. All evidence goes to prove, however, that De Philipsthal
did not control the writing and drawing figure exclusively, but that it
was the joint property of himself and his partner, Maillardet. One of
their joint programmes is also reproduced. Wherever De Philipsthal
appears as an independent entertainer, the writing and drawing figure is
missing from his billing. Later the writing and drawing automaton came
into the possession of a Mr. Louis, who, as it will be seen from the
billing, acted as assistant engineer to De Philipsthal and Maillardet.
Louis evidently controlled the wonderful little automaton in the years
1814-15.
The last De Philipsthal programme in my possession is dated Summer
Theatre, Hull, September 15th, 16th, 17th, 18th and 19th, 1828, when he
advertises only "rope dancers and mechanical peacock," and features
"special uniting fire and water" and "firework experiments." He must
have died between that date and April, 1829, for a programme dated at
the latter time announces a benefit at the Théâtre Wakefield for the
widow and children of De Philipsthal, "the late proprietor of the Royal
Mechanical and Optical Museum." This benefit programme contains no
allusion to the writing and drawing figure, which goes to prove that it
had not been his property, or it would have been handed down to his
estate.
In May, 1826, an automaton was exhibited at 161 Strand, a bill regarding
which is reproduced. This mechanical figure, however, should not be
confounded with the original and genuine writing and drawing figure. It
seems to have lacked legitimacy and, from what I can learn from
newspaper clippings, was worked like "Zoe," with a concealed
confederate, or, like the famous "Psycho" featured by Maskelyne, it was
worked by compressed air. This bill is interesting solely because I
believe that this fake automaton exhibited at 161 Strand was the first
figure of the sort foisted on the public after the Baron Von Kemplen
chess-player, which is described in Halle's work on magic, published in
1784.
[Illustration: Poster announcing a benefit for the widow and children of
de Philipsthal at Wakefield, in April, 1829, which proves that writing
and drawing figure formed no part of the estate left by the deceased
showman. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
[Illustration: Handbill advertising the fake automatic artist, exhibited
also at 161 Strand, London, May 7th, 1826. From the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
In 1901, while in Germany, I saw a number of these automaton artists,
all frauds. The figure sat in a small chair before an easel, ready to
draw portraits in short order. The figure was shown to the audience,
then replaced on the chair, whereupon a man under the platform would
thrust his arm through the figure and draw all that was required of the
automaton. The fake was short-lived, even at the yearly fairs, and now
has sunk too low for them.
During this interim, that is between 1821 and 1833, the famous little
figure seems to have been in the possession of one Schmidt, who,
according to the programmes in my collection, exhibited it regularly.
In 1833 Schmidt is programmed in London, playing at the Surrey Theatre,
when the writing and drawing figure is one of twenty-four automatic
devices. A program, which, judging from its printing, is of a still
later date, announces Mr. Schmidt and the famous figure at New Gothic
Hall, 7 Haymarket, for a short period previous to the removal of the
exhibit to St. Petersburg. The dates of other programmes in my
collection can be judged only from the style of printing which changed
at different periods of the art's development. Some of these indicate
that the writing and drawing figure was on exhibition during the early
40's in London at Paul's Head Assembly Rooms, Argyle Rooms, Regent
Street, etc.
It is more than likely, according to Robert-Houdin's own admission
regarding his study of automata and his opportunities to repair those
left at his shop, that at some time the writing and drawing figure was
brought to Paris to be exhibited, needed repairing, and thus reached his
shop. Whether it was bought by Monsieur G----, whose interest in
automata is featured in Robert-Houdin's "Memoirs," and brought to
Robert-Houdin to repair, or whether Robert-Houdin bought it for a song,
and repaired it to sell to advantage to his wealthy patron, cannot be
stated, but I am morally certain that Robert-Houdin never constructed,
in eighteen months, a complicated mechanism on which the Jacquet-Drozes
spent six years of their inventive genius and efforts. Modern
mechanicians agree that such a performance would have been a physical
impossibility, even had Robert-Houdin been the expert mechanician he
pictured himself.
[Illustration: Programme used by Mr. Schmidt in 1827, when he had
possession of the writing and drawing figure. From the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
[Illustration: Poster used by Mr. Schmidt in advertising the writing and
drawing figure in London just before his departure for St. Petersburg,
Russia. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
To sum up the evidence: The writing and drawing figure as turned out by
the Jacquet-Drozes was known all over Europe. It is not possible that a
man so well read and posted in magic and automata as Robert-Houdin did
not know of its existence and mechanism. And if Robert-Houdin had
invented the same mechanism it is hardly possible that his design would
have run in precisely the same channel as that of Jacquet-Droz and
Maillardet, in having the figure draw the dog, the cupid, and the heads
of monarchs.
In those days humble mechanicians, however well they were known in their
own trade, were not exploited by the public press. Nor did they employ
clever journalists to write memoirs lauding their achievements. And so
it happened that for years the names of Jacquet-Droz and Maillardet were
unsung; their brainwork and handicraft were claimed by Robert-Houdin,
who had mastered the art of self-exploitation. To-day, after a century
and a half of neglect, the laurel wreath has been lifted from the brow
of Robert-Houdin, where it never should have been placed, and has been
laid on the graves of the real inventors of the writing and drawing
figure, Pierre Jacquet-Droz and Henri-Louis Jacquet-Droz and Jean-David
Maillardet.
CHAPTER IV
THE PASTRY COOK OF THE PALAIS ROYAL
Concerning this trick, which Robert-Houdin claims as his invention, he
writes on page 79 of his "Memoirs," American edition: "The first was a
small pastry cook, issuing from his shop door at the word of command,
and bringing, according to the spectator's request, patties and
refreshments of every description. At the side of the shop, assistant
pastry cooks might be seen rolling paste and putting it in the oven."
By means of handbills, programmes, and newspaper notices of magical and
mechanical performances, this trick in various guises can be traced back
as far as 1796. Nine reputable magicians offered it as part of their
repertoire, and at times two men presented it simultaneously, showing
that more than one such automaton existed. The dates of the most notable
programmes or handbills selected from my collection are as follows:
1, Haddock, 1797. 2, Garnerin, 1815. 3, Gyngell, 1816 and 1823. 4,
Bologna, 1820. 5, Henry, 1822. 6, Schmidt, 1827. 7, Rovere, 1828. 8,
Charles, 1829. 9, Phillippe, 1841.
In 1827 Schmidt and Gyngell joined forces, yet both before and after
this date each performer had the wonderful little piece of mechanism on
his programme. In 1841, four years before Robert-Houdin appeared as a
public performer, Phillippe created a sensation in Paris, presenting
among other automata "Le Confiseur Galant." In 1845, when Robert-Houdin
included "The Pastry Cook of the Palais Royal" in his initial programme
at his own theatre in Paris, Phillippe was presenting precisely the same
trick at the St. James Theatre, London.
Of this goodly company, however, Rovere and Phillippe deserve more than
passing notice, as both were the contemporaries of Robert-Houdin, and
Rovere was his personal friend. Both also appear in Robert-Houdin's
"Memoirs."
The trick appears first, not as a confectioner's shop with small figures
at work, but as a fruitery, then again as a Dutch Coffee-House and a
Russian Inn, from which ten sorts of liquor are served. Finally, in
1823, it is featured under the name that later made it famous, the
Confectioner's Shop.
Haddock, the Englishman who had the writing and drawing figure in his
possession for some time, featured the fruitery on his programmes dated
1796. One of his advertisements from the London _Telegraph_ is
reproduced on page 106, in connection with the history of the writing
and drawing figure, but for convenience I am quoting here Haddock's own
description of the fruitery trick, which was even more complicated than
the famous Pastry Cook of the Palais Royal:
[Illustration: A Bologna poster of 1820 which features an automatic
distiller who draws eight different liquors from one cask. From the
Harry Houdini Collection.]
"A model of the neat rural mansion, and contains the following figures:
First, the porter, which stands at the gate, and on being addressed,
rings the bell, when the door opens, the fruiteress comes out, and any
lady or gentleman may call for whatever fruit they please, and the
figure will return and bring the kind required, which may be repeated
and the fruit varied as often as the company orders: it will likewise
receive flowers, or any small article, carry them in, and produce them
again as called for. As the fruits are brought out, they will be given
in charge of a watch-dog, which sits in front of the house, and on any
person taking or touching them will begin to bark, and continue to do
so until they are returned. The next figure belonging to this piece is
the little chimney-sweeper, which will be seen coming from behind the
house, will enter the door, appear at the top of the chimney, and give
the usual cry of 'Sweep' several times, descend the chimney, and come
out with his bag full of soot."
In 1820, Haddock's programme, including the fruitery, appears with only
a few minor changes as the répertoire of Bologna, a very clever conjurer
who afterward became the assistant of Anderson, the Wizard of the North,
and who made most of the latter's apparatus. On the Bologna programme,
for a performance to be given at the Great Assembly Room, Three Tuns
Tavern, the shop trick is described thus: "A curious Mechanical
Fruiterer and Confectioner's Shop, kept by Kitty Comfit, who will
produce at Command such Variety of Fruit and Sweetmeats as may be asked
for."
The marvellous little shop does not appear again on programmes of magic
until 1815, when Garnerin features it as "The Dutch Coffee-House." On
the programme used by Garnerin in that year for a benefit which he gave
for the General Hospital at Birmingham, England, it is featured as No.
10: "A Dutch Coffee-House, a very surprising mechanical piece, in which
there is the figure of a Girl, six inches high, which presents, at the
Command of the Spectators, ten different sorts of Liquors."
[Illustration: A Garnerin poster of 1815, advertising "A Dutch Coffee
House," whose automatic hostess serves refreshments at command. From the
Harry Houdini Collection.]
This programme is of such historical value that I reproduce it in full.
It will show that this particular mechanical trick is by no means the
most important feature of Garnerin's répertoire. In fact his fame is
based on his ballooning, and he is said to have been the inventor of
the parachute. The ascension of the nocturnal balloon, also scheduled on
this programme, is an imitation of the one which Garnerin arranged in
honor of Bonaparte's coronation in 1805. On that occasion the balloon
started at Paris and descended in Rome, a distance of five hundred miles
which was covered in twenty-two hours.
Garnerin was a contemporary of both Pinetti and Robertson and was with
them in Russia when Pinetti dissipated his fortune in balloon
experiments. In their correspondence, both Pinetti and Robertson spoke
slightingly of Garnerin, but the Frenchman's programmes all indicate
that he was not only a successful aëronaut, but a magician who could
present a diverting entertainment.
[Illustration: A Gyngell poster of 1816, featuring the Russian Inn, with
service of various kinds of liquor. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
In 1816 the elder Gyngell featured the trick on his programmes as "The
Russian Inn," and in 1823 he changed it to "The Confectioner's Shop."
These programmes are reproduced as the most convincing evidence against
the claims of Robert-Houdin.
The Gyngell family is one of the most interesting in the history of
magic. The Christian name of the founder of the family I have never been
able to ascertain, though programmes give the initial as G. He was
celebrated as a Bartholomew Fair conjurer. His career started about
1788, and his contemporaries were Lane, Boaz, Ball, Jonas, Breslaw, and
Flocton. At one time Gyngell and Flocton worked together, and Thomas
Frost in his book, "The Lives of Conjurers," claims that at Flocton's
death Gyngell received a portion of the former's wealth.
[Illustration: The original Gyngell, a portrait reproduced from the book
on magic written by this famous Bartholomew Fair conjurer. From the
Harry Houdini Collection.]
Associated with him in his performances were his brother, two sons, and
a daughter. The latter was not only a clever rope-dancer but a musician
of more than ordinary ability and she often constituted the entire
"orchestra."
On Gyngell's programme offered in 1827 he proves himself a great
showman, for he features Herr Schmidt's "Mechanical Automatons,
Phantasmagoria, a laughing sketch entitled Wholesale Blunders, his son
on the flying wire, during which he would throw a somersault through a
balloon of real fire, a broadsword dance by Miss Louise and Master
Gyngell, and Miss Louise's performance on the tight rope, clowned by
Master Lionel."
On a programme used in Hull, October 29th, 1827, a lottery was featured
as follows: "On which occasion the first hundred persons paying for the
gallery will be entitled by ticket to a chance of a Fat Goose, and the
same number in the pit to have the same chance for a fat turkey. To be
drawn for on the stage, in the same manner as the State Lottery."
According to Thomas Frost, Gyngell died in 1833 and was buried in the
Parish Church, Camberwell. His children, however, continued the work so
excellently planned by their father.
The programmes herewith reproduced I purchased from Henry Evanion, who
secured them directly from the last of the Gyngell family, as the
accompanying letter, now a part of my collection, will show:
DOVER, February 10th, 1867.
MR. EVANION:
DEAR SIR--Yours of the 5th inst. I received just as I was leaving
Folkestown, and it was forwarded from Guilford.
I am sorry I have not one of my old bills with me, neither do I
think any of my family could find one at home. I may have some
among my old conjuring things, and when I return to Guilford I will
look them over and send you what I can find. I was sorry I was not
at home when you were in Guilford, for I feel much pleasure in
meeting a responsible professional. I am not certain when I shall
return, but most likely not for six weeks. I will keep your
address; so should you change your residence, write to me about
that time.
I was looking over some old papers some time last summer, and found
a bill of my father's, nearly 60 years ago, when his great trick
was cutting off the cock's head and restoring it to life again. And
a great wonder it was considered and brought crowded rooms.
I was Master Gyngell, the wonderful performer on the slack wire;
and now in my 71st year I am lecturer, pyrotechnist, and high-rope
walker, for I did that last summer. My life has been a simple one
of ups and downs.
I am, dear sir, yours truly,
J. D. G. GYNGELL.
[Illustration: A Gyngell programme of 1823, advertising "A
Confectioner's Shop," whose attendant will serve automatically any sort
of confectionery demanded. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
The signature of this letter, "J. D. G. Gyngell," clears up considerable
uncertainty regarding the names of the two Gyngell sons. At times the
clever young tight-rope performer has been spoken of as Joseph, and at
others as Gellini. It is quite probable that the two names were really
part of one, and the full baptismal name was "Joseph D. Gellini." It was
as Gellini Gyngell that he met Henry Evanion at Deal, February 20th,
1862, when the latter was performing as a magician at the Deal and
Walmer Institute, while Gellini Gyngell gave an exhibition of fireworks
and a magic-lantern display on the South Esplanade. A fine notice of
both performances was published in the Deal _Telegram_ of February 23d,
when the hope was expressed that Gyngell's collection, taken among those
who enjoyed his outdoor performance, repaid him for his admirable
entertainment. Gyngell was landlord of the Bowling Green Tavern at this
time, and travelled as an entertainer only at intervals.
The next appearance of the trick is in a book published by M. Henry, a
ventriloquist, who played London and the provinces from 1820 to 1828.
During an engagement at the Adelphia Theatre, London, which according to
the programme was about 1822, Henry published a book entitled
"Conversazione; or, Mirth and Marvels," in which he interspersed witty
conversation with descriptions of his various tricks. On page 11 he
thus describes the automaton under consideration:
[Illustration: Reproduction of a rare old colored lithograph in three
sections. This section represents Gyngell. From the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
"Illusion Third. A curious mechanical trick; an inn, from which issues
the hostess for orders, upon receiving which, she returns into the inn
and brings out the various liquors as called for by the audience, and at
last waiting for the money, which, having received, goes in and shuts
the door. Mr. Henry says he has produced the inn in preference to
palaces, though more stupendous and magnificent, thinking, as a certain
author wrote, the heartiest welcome is to be found at the inn."
In the same year Henry issued a challenge open to the whole world,
defying any performer to equal his manipulation of the cup and ball
trick. He also employed as an adjunct of his conjuring performances
Signor de Fedori of Rome, an armless wonder, who used his feet to play
the drum, violin, and triangle.
A contemporary of Henry was Charles, the great ventriloquist, who varied
his performance as did all ventriloquists of his day, by presenting
"Philosophical and Mechanical Experiments" to make up a
two-hour-and-a-half performance. Charles made several tours of the
English provinces, and played in London at intervals. On a London
programme which is undated, but which announces M. Charles as playing at
Mr. Wigley's Large Room, Spring Gardens, the second automaton on his
list is described as "The Russian Inn, out of which comes a little Woman
and brings the Liquor demanded for." Two of his programmes dated Theatre
Royal, Hull, April, 1829, now in my collection, carry a pathetic
foot-note written in the handwriting of the collector through whom they
came into my possession: "The audiences on both the evenings were
extremely small, and the money was refunded."
By referring to the chapter on the writing and drawing figure, Chapter
III, Page 113, a Schmidt programme of 1827 will be found, in which he
features "The Enchanted Dutch Coffee-House, an elegant little building.
On the traveller ringing the bell, the door opens, the hostess attends
and provides him with any liquor he may call for."
[Illustration: A Charles poster dated about 1829 in which the Russian
Inn and its obedient little figure are featured. From the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
Schmidt seems to have confined his exhibitions to London and the
provinces and was often connected with other magicians, including
Gyngell and Buck. The latter was an English conjurer, best known as the
man who was horribly injured when presenting "The Gun Delusion." This
consisted of having a marked bullet shot at the performer, who caught it
between his teeth on a plate, or on the point of a needle or knife. Some
miscreant loaded the gun with metal after Buck had it prepared for the
trick, and the unfortunate performer's right cheek was literally shot
away.
In 1828 Jules de Rovere, a French conjurer, whose fame rests principally
on the fact that he coined the new title "prestidigitator," appeared at
the Haymarket Theatre, London, and also toured the English provinces. A
clipping from the Oxford _Herald_ of that year includes this description
of his automaton: "One of the clowns vanishes from the box, and
instantly at the top of the hall a little lady, in a little hotel
brilliantly illuminated, gives out wines and liquors to them who ask for
them, without any apparent communication with the artiste, and yet the
lady is only six inches high."
In the late 30's Rovere made his headquarters in Paris, and there he and
Robert-Houdin met. The latter refers to this meeting on page 153 of his
"Memoirs," when writing of the misfortunes which had overtaken Father
Roujol, whose shop had once been headquarters for conjurers: "Still I
had the luck to form here the acquaintance of Jules de Rovere, the first
to employ a title now generally given to fashionable conjurers."
And after Rovere, Phillippe, who is by far the most important presenter
of the Pastry Cook of the Palais Royal, as bearing upon Robert-Houdin's
claims.
For Phillippe's early history we must depend largely upon
Robert-Houdin's "Memoirs." According to these, Phillippe started life as
a confectioner or maker of sweets, and his real name was Phillippe
Talon. According to an article published in _L'Illusionniste_ in
January, 1902, he was born in Alias, near Nîmes, December 25th, 1802,
and died in Bokhara, Turkey, June 27th, 1878.
[Illustration: Reproduction of pastel portrait of Phillippe. Only known
likeness of the conjurer in existence. Made for him by a Vienna artist.
Original now in the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Like many a genius and successful man, his early history was written in
a minor key. According to Robert-Houdin his sweets did not catch the
Parisian fancy, and he went to London, where at that time French bonbons
were in high favor. But for some reason he failed in London, and went
on to Aberdeen, Scotland, where he was very soon reduced to sore
straits. In his hour of extremity his cleverness saved the day. In
Aberdeen at the same time was a company of actors almost as unfortunate
as himself. They were presenting a pantomime which the public refused
to patronize. The young confectioner approached the manager of the
pantomime and suggested that they join forces. In addition to the
regular admission to the pantomime each patron was to pay sixpence and
receive in return a paper of mixed sugar plums and a lottery ticket by
which he might gain the first prize of the value of five pounds. In
addition, Talon promised not only to provide the sweets free of cost to
the management, but to present a new and startling feature at the close
of the performance.
The novel announcement crowded the house, the pantomime and the bonbons
alike found favor, but the significant feature of the performance was
young Talon's appearance in the finale in the rôle of "Punch," for which
he was admirably made up. He executed an eccentric dance, at the finish
of which he pretended to fall and injure himself. In a faint voice he
demanded pills to relieve his pain, and a fellow-actor brought on pills
of such enormous size that the audience stopped sympathizing with the
actor and began to laugh. But the pills all disappeared down the
dancer's throat, for Talon was not only an able confectioner and an
agile dancer, but a sleight-of-hand performer. From that hour he
exchanged the spoon of the confectioner for the wand of the magician.
The fortunes of both the pantomime and Phillippe, as he now called
himself, improved. Quite probably he remained with the pantomime company
until the close of the season and then struck out as an independent
performer.
[Illustration: Poster used by Phillippe during his engagement at the
Strand Theatre, London, 1845-46. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Another story which is gleaned from a biography of John Henry Anderson,
the Wizard of the North, tells how Phillippe started his career as a
pastry cook in the household of one Lord Panmure, and I quote this
literally from the Anderson book, because I believe it to be truthful,
as material gathered from Anderson literature has proved to be:
"It was at this time that he came in contact with a person who
afterward, under the designation of M. Phillippe, became celebrated in
France as a magician. Phillipee (for so was he named in Scotland) was
originally a cook in the services of the late Lord Panmure. Leaving that
employment, he settled down and remained for a number of years in
Aberdeen. He heard of the fame of the youthful magician, was induced to
visit his 'temple,' and was struck with his performances; and having
made the acquaintance of Mr. Anderson, he solicited from him and
obtained an insight into his profession, and fac-similes of his then
humble apparatus. Phillippe improved to such a degree upon the knowledge
he thus acquired that, leaving England for France, he earned the
reputation of being one of the most accomplished magicians ever seen in
the country."
The date of his initial performance is not known, but he must have
remained in Scotland, perfecting his act, for the earliest Phillippe
programme in my collection is dated February 3d, 1837, when he opened at
Waterloo Rooms, Edinburgh, and announced:
"The high character which Mons. Phillippe has obtained from the
Aberdeen, Glasgow, Greenock and Paisley Press, being the only four towns
in Britain where he has made his appearance, is a sufficient guarantee
to procure him a visit from the inhabitants of this enlightened
Metropolis, where talent had always been supported when actually
deserved."
[Illustration: Phillippe and his Scotch assistant, Domingo. The latter
became famous as a magician under the name of Macallister, introducing
in America Phillippe's gift show. From a lithograph in the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
Evidently, however, Phillippe made rapid progress, for a programme dated
Saturday, April 21st, 1838, shows that his last daytime or matinée
performance in Waterloo Rooms was given under the patronage of such
members of the nobility as the Right Honorable Lady Gifford, the Right
Honorable Lady H. Stuart Forbes, etc. In an Edinburgh programme, dated
probably 1837, he is shown as performing his tricks, clad in peculiar
evening clothes, knickerbockers and waistcoat matching, with a mere
suggestion of the swallow-tail coat. In his 1838 bill he is shown clad
in the flowing robes of the old-time magician, and he advertises the
Chinese tricks, notably the gold-fish trick, which demanded voluminous
draperies.
According to Robert-Houdin, Phillippe built a small wooden theatre in
Glasgow. Humble as this building was, however, it brought a significant
factor into Phillippe's life. This was a young bricklayer named Andrew
Macallister who had a natural genius for tricks and models, and who
became Phillippe's apprentice, later appearing as Domingo, his assistant
on the stage, wearing black make-up.
In either Edinburgh or Dublin Phillippe met the Chinese juggler or
conjurer who taught him the gold-fish trick and the secret of the
Chinese rings.
Armed with these two striking tricks, Phillippe determined to satisfy
his yearning to return to his native land, and in 1841 he appeared at
the Salle Montesquieu, Paris. Later, the Bonne-Nouvelle, a temple of
magic, was opened for Phillippe in Paris, and there he enjoyed the
brilliant run to which Robert-Houdin refers in his "Memoirs."
Phillippe was an indefatigable worker and traveller, and one brilliant
engagement followed another. During the 40's he appeared, according to
my collection of programmes, all over Continental Europe, and in most of
his programmes this paragraph is featured:
"PART III.
"An unexpected present at once gratuitous and laughable, composed of
twelve prizes, nine lucky and three unfortunate, in which the general
public will participate."
He also continued to distribute bonbons from an inexhaustible source,
probably a cornucopia, calling this trick "a new system of making
sweetmeats, or Le Confiseur Moderne."
During his first engagement in Vienna he had painted for advertising
purposes a pastel portrait, showing him clad in his magician's robes at
the finale of the gold-fish trick. From this picture his later cuts were
made. By some mistake he left the original pastel in Vienna, where I
bought it at a special sale for my collection. It remains an exquisite
piece of color work, even at this day. So far it is the only real
likeness of Phillippe I have been able to unearth.
In 1845-46 he was at the height of his popularity in London, where he
had a tremendous run. In June, 1845, we find him playing at the St.
James Theatre, under Mitchell's direction, and on September 29th, under
his own management, he moves to the Strand, where he is still found in
January of 1846. During all this time he featured The Pastry Cook of the
Palais Royal under the title of "Le Confiseur Galant."
[Illustration: 1. Cuisine de Parafaragamus; 2. Le Chapelier de 1943; 3.
Le Paon magique; 4. La Bouteille enchantée; 5. La Chaîne hydonstaine; 6.
La Tête infernale; 7. Le Chapeau merveilleux; 8. L'Arlequin savant; 9.
Le Confiseur galant et le Liquoriste impromptu; 10. Le Bassin de Neptune
ou les poissons d'or et la ménagerie prodigieuse; 11. Éclairage de tout
le théâtre improvisé par un coup de pistolet.
Reproduction of a large lithograph showing all of Phillippe's tricks,
including "Le Confiseur Galant" scheduled as No. 9. From the original
lithograph dated 1842 now in the Harry Houdini Collection.]
As proofs that Phillippe used the pastry-cook trick both before and
during Robert-Houdin's career as a magician, I offer several programmes
containing accurate descriptions of the automaton, and also a page
illustration from a current publication dated Paris, 1843, which shows
the confectioner or pastry-cook standing in the doorway of his house,
while the key explaining the various tricks reads: "No. 9. Le Confiseur
galant et le Liquoriste impromptu."
Robert-Houdin devotes nearly an entire chapter to the history of
Phillippe and a description of his tricks and automata, yet curiously
forgets to mention the pastry cook, which he later claims as his own
invention.
Ernest Basch, formerly of Basch Brothers, conjurers, and the richest
manufacturer of illusions in the world, claims that the original trick
is now in his possession. Herr Basch is located in Hanover, Germany,
where he builds large illusions only. The wonderful mechanical house
passed to Basch by a bequest on the death of Baron von Sandhovel, a
wealthy resident of Amsterdam, Holland. Von Sandhovel had bought the
trick from the heirs of Robert-Houdin on the death of the latter,
because he believed it to be the brain and handwork of Opre, a Dutch
mechanician of great talent. Ernest Basch shares this belief, and with
other well-read conjurers thinks that Opre was Robert-Houdin's assistant
and built most of his automata, including The Pastry Cook of the Palais
Royal, The Windmill or Dutch Inn, Auriel and Debureau, The French
Gymnasts, The Harlequin, and The Chausseur.
Opre was a man of ability, but lacked presence and personality properly
to present his inventions. So far I have found his name in three places
only: On the frontispiece of a Dutch book on magic, published in
Amsterdam; in Ernest Basch's correspondence about conjurers; and on page
77 of Robert-Houdin's "Memoirs," when he speaks of Opre as the maker of
the Harlequin figure which Torrini asked Robert-Houdin to repair during
their travels.
[Illustration: Ernest Basch and "Le Confiseur Galant," which he claims
is the original Robert-Houdin "Pastry Cook of the Palais Royal." From a
photograph in the Harry Houdini Collection.]
With such convincing proof, some of which was contemporary, that other
men had exhibited The Pastry Cook of the Palais Royal in its identical
or slightly different guise, it was daring indeed of Robert-Houdin to
claim it as his own invention.
[Illustration: David Leendert Bamberg, of the second generation of the
Bamberg family. Born 1786; died 1869. The above daguerrotype was
presented to the author by Herr Ernest Basch, and is the only one in
existence.]
The most direct information regarding Opre comes through that eminent
family of conjurers known as the Bambergs of Holland. At this writing,
"Papa" (David) Bamberg, of the fourth generation, is prominent on the
Dutch stage, and his son Tobias David, known as Okito, of the fifth
generation, is a cosmopolitan magician, presenting a Chinese act.
According to the family history, traceable by means of handbills,
programmes, and personal correspondence, the original Bamberg (Eliazar)
had a vaulting figure in his collection of automata in 1790, fifty years
before Robert-Houdin became a professional entertainer. This figure was
made by Opre, to whom all conjurers of that time looked for automata and
apparatus. David Leendert Bamberg, of the second generation, who also
had the vaulting figure, was the intimate friend and confidant of Opre
and was authority for the statement that Opre's son sold in Paris the
various automata made by his father, which later Robert-Houdin claimed
as his own invention. It may be noted that Robert-Houdin never invented
a single automaton after he went on the stage in 1845, and as Opre died
in 1846, the coincidence is nothing if not significant.
CHAPTER V
THE OBEDIENT CARDS--THE CABALISTIC CLOCK--THE TRAPEZE AUTOMATON
_The Obedient Cards._
To trace here the history of three very common tricks claimed by
Robert-Houdin as his own inventions would be sheer waste of time, if the
exposure did not prove beyond doubt that in announcing the various
tricks of his répertoire as the output of his own brain he was not only
flagrant and unscrupulous, but he did not even give his readers credit
for enough intelligence to recognize tricks performed repeatedly by his
predecessors whom they had seen. Not satisfied with purloining tricks so
important that one or two would have been sufficient to establish the
reputation of any conjurer or inventor, he must needs lay claim to
having invented tricks long the property of mountebanks as well as
reputable magicians.
The tricks referred to are the obedient card, the cabalistic clock, and
the automaton known as Diavolo Antonio or Le Voltigeur au Trapèze.
[Illustration: Card trick as featured by Anderson in 1836-37. From a
poster in the Harry Houdini Collection.]
The obedient-card trick, mentioned on page 245 of the American edition
of his "Memoirs," as "a novel experiment invented by M. Robert-Houdin,"
can be found on the programme of every magician who ever laid claim to
dexterity of hand. Whether they accomplished the effect by clock-work
or with a black silk thread or a human hair, the result was one and the
same. It has also been worked by using a fine thread with a piece of wax
at the end. The wax is fastened to the card, and the thread draws it up.
The simplest method of all is to place the thread over and under the
cards, weaving it in and out as it were, and then, by pulling the
thread, to bring the different cards selected into view.
So common was the trick that its description was written in every work
on magic published from 1784 to the date of Robert-Houdin's first
appearance, and in at least one volume printed as early as 1635. The
majority of French encyclopædias described the trick and exposed it
according to one method or another, and Robert-Houdin admits having been
a great reader of encyclopædias.
The trick first appears in print in various editions of "Hocus Pocus,"
twenty in all, starting with 1635. The majority contain feats with
cards, showing how to bring them up or out of a pack with a black
thread, a hair spring, or an elastic.
In 1772 the rising-card trick was shown in Guyot's "Physical and
Mathematical Recreations," also in the Dutch or Holland translations of
the same work. In 1791 it was minutely explained by Hofrath von
Eckartshausen, who wrote five different books on the subject of magic.
The fourth, being devoted principally to the art of the conjurer, was
entitled "Die Gauckeltasche, oder vollständiger Unterricht in
Taschenspieler u. s. w.," which translated means "The Conjurer's Pocket
or Thorough Instructions in the Art of Conjuring." The title was due to
the fact that in olden days conjurers worked with the aid of a large
outside pocket. The five books, published under the general title of
"Aufschlüsse zur Magie," bear date of Munich, Germany.
On page 138 of the third edition of Gale's "Cabinet of Knowledge,"
published in London in 1800, will be found a description of the
rising-card trick as done with pin and thread, and the same book shows
how it is accomplished with wax and a hair. This book seems to have been
compiled from Philip Breslaw's work on magic, "The Last Legacy,"
published in 1782. Benton, who published the English edition of
Decremps' famous work on magic, exposing Pinetti's répertoire, also
described the trick. "Natural Magic," by Astley, the circus man, and
Hooper's "Recreations," in four volumes, published in 1784, expose the
same trick.
[Illustration: CONJURER UNMASKED
OR
_the Art of Sleight of hand_
Reproduction of frontispiece in Breslaw's book on magic, "The Last
Legacy," published in 1782. Original in the Harry Houdini Collection.]
As to magicians who performed the trick, their names are legion, and
only a few of the most prominent conjurers will be mentioned in this
connection.
[Illustration: J. H. Anderson's birth place as drawn by him from memory.
The following is written under the sketch in his own handwriting: "A
rough sketch of the farm house called 'Red Stanes,' on the estate of
Craigmyle, Parish of Kincardine O'Neil, Aberdeenshire. The house was
built by my grandfather, John Robertson, in the year 1796, and in it I
was born on the 15th day of July, 1814. John Henry Anderson."
Photographed from the original now in the possession of Mrs. Leona A.
Anderson, by the author.]
The man who obtained the best effects with this trick was John Henry
Anderson, who startled the world of magic and amusements by his
audacity, in 1836, nine years before Robert-Houdin trod the stage as a
professional entertainer.
Anderson was born in Kincardine, Scotland, in 1814, and started his
professional career as an actor. He must have been a very poor one, too,
for he states that he was once complimented by a manager for having
brought bad acting to the height of perfection.
[Illustration: John Henry Anderson, wife and son, from a rare photograph
taken in 1847 or 1848. Said to be an especially good likeness of Mrs.
Anderson and the only one extant. Photograph loaned by Mrs. Leona A.
Anderson, daughter-in-law of the "Wizard of the North."]
[Illustration: Very rare poster of 1838 in which John Henry Anderson is
billed as "The Great Magician." From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
[Illustration: Cover design of Anderson's book, exposing the Davenport
Brothers; now a very rare book. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Anderson was first known as the Caledonian magician, then assumed the
title of the Wizard of the North, which he said was bestowed on him by
Sir Walter Scott. Thomas Frost belittles this statement, on the grounds
that Scott was stricken with paralysis in 1830. However, Anderson became
famous in 1829, so he should be given the benefit of the doubt. He was
the greatest advertiser that the world of magic has ever known, and he
left nothing undone that might boom attendance at his performances. He
started newspapers, gave masked balls, and donated thousands of dollars
to charities. He was known in every city of the world, and, when so
inclined, built his own theatres. He sold books on magic during his own
performances, and would sell any trick he presented for a nominal sum.
His most unique advertising dodge was to offer $500 in gold as prizes
for the best conundrums written by spectators during his performances.
To make this scheme more effective, he carried with him his own
printing-press and set it up back of the scenes. While the performance
was under way, the conundrums handed in by the spectators were printed,
and, after the performance, any one might buy a sheet of the questions
and puns at the door. As every one naturally wanted to see his conundrum
in print, Anderson sold millions of these bits of paper. In 1852, while
playing at Metropolitan Hall, New York City, he advertised his conundrum
contest and sold his book of tricks, etc., and such notables as Jenny
Lind and General Kossuth entered conundrums.
He was among the first performers to expose the Davenport Brothers,
whose spiritualistic tricks and rope-tying had astonished America.
Directly on witnessing a performance and solving their methods, Anderson
hurried back to England and exposed the tricks.
To sum up his history, he stands unique in the annals of magic as a doer
of daring things. He rushed into print on the slightest pretext, was a
hard fighter with his rivals and aired his quarrels in the press, and he
was a game loser when trouble came his way. Not a brilliant actor or
performer, he yet had the gift of securing excellent effects in his
_mise en scène_. He made and lost several fortunes, generally recouping
as quickly as he lost. He was burned out several times, the most notable
fire being that of Covent Garden, London, in 1856. He was liked in
spite of his eccentricities, but when he died, February 3d, 1874, his
fortune was small.
[Illustration: Anderson billing of 1838, featuring obedient cards as
"Napoleon's Trick." From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
[Illustration: Jacobs poster, featuring "The Travelling Card." From the
Harry Houdini Collection.]
Anderson had numerous imitators, including M. Jacobs, "Barney" Eagle,
and E. W. Young, all of whom used the rising-or obedient-card trick.
They copied not only his tricks, but the very names he had used and the
style of his billing. All three of these men were professional magicians
before Robert-Houdin appeared, and Anderson was his very active
contemporary.
A Jacobs bill is here reproduced, showing the card trick featured among
other attractions. The lithograph of Jacobs used in this connection is
an actual likeness and I believe it to be as rare as it is timely.
[Illustration: Lithograph used by E. W. Young, who copied all of John
Henry Anderson's billing and featured the obedient-card trick. This
setting shows how cumbersome was the apparatus employed by magicians
before Wiljalba Frikell proved that he could score with apparently no
apparatus. Original in the Harry Houdini Collection.]
[Illustration: Frontispiece from Eagle's book, in which he exposes
Anderson's gun delusion. Said by Henry Evanion, who knew Eagle, to be a
fine likeness. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Young's name has been handed down in history because he made money on
Anderson's reputation, by the boldest of imitations, assuming the title
of Wizard of the North with his own name in small type. One of his bills
is also reproduced.
Barnedo or "Barney" Eagle is the man of the trio of the imitators who
deserves more than passing notice. He became Anderson's bitterest enemy,
and their rivalry made money for the printers.
Eagle could neither read nor write, but having a quick brain he hired a
clever writer to indite his speeches and duplicated Anderson's show so
closely that Anderson's pride was hurt. He therefore decided to expose
Eagle, and thousands of bills, constituting a virulent attack upon his
imitator, were distributed. One of these is reproduced. It is so rare
that I doubt whether another is in existence.
[Illustration: An Anderson poster, exposing "Barney" Eagle's tricks.
Only bill of this sort in existence. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
[Illustration: Window poster issued by Anderson to belittle his imitator
"Barney" Eagle and show how the latter secured royal patronage. From the
Harry Houdini Collection.]
As Eagle had advertised that he was patronized by royalty, Anderson had
another bill printed, showing Eagle playing before the King at the Ascot
race-track, and an assistant passing the hat in mountebank fashion. In
revenge, Eagle had a book published, in which he exposed Anderson's best
drawing trick, The Gun Delusion, in which the magician allowed any one
from the audience to shoot a gun at him using marked bullets. These
bullets were caught in his mouth or on the point of a knife. This trick
became as common as the obedient-card trick.
In the face of such overwhelming evidence, Robert-Houdin's claim to
having invented the obedient-card trick is nothing short of farcical.
[Illustration: A "Barney" Eagle poster on which the obedient-card trick
is featured as "The Walking Cards." From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
_The Cabalistic or Obedient
Clock_
There might be said to exist a very reasonable doubt as to the exact
date at which Robert-Houdin produced the cabalistic clock which he
included among his other doubtful claims to inventions.
On page 250 of the American edition of his "Memoirs" he has the
Cabalistic Clock on his opening programme for July 3d, 1845, but in the
appendix of the French edition he states that the clock first made its
appearance at the opening of the season of 1847. In nearly all his
statements he is equally inaccurate.
The mysterious clock might be termed the obedient clock, for the trick
consists in causing the hand or hands to obey the will of the conjurer
or the wishes of the audience.
The hands will point to a figure, move with rapidity, or as slowly as
possible, or in time to music. In fact the performer has full control of
the hands--he can make them do his every bidding.
The mysterious clock is a trick as old as the obedient-card trick, if
not older. It was explained according to various methods in books before
Robert-Houdin's appearance on the stage. In fact, the majority of
old-time conjuring books explain mysterious clocks carefully.
Before electricity was introduced, magnets were employed, but the
earliest method was to make use of thread wound about the spindle of the
clock hand, and that method is still the very best used to-day, owing to
its simplicity. The clock, on being presented to the audience, may be
hung or placed in the position best suited to the particular method by
which it is being "worked."
It shows a transparent clock face, such as you see in any jewelry shop.
Some magicians utilize only one hand, which permits the easy use of
electricity or magnet, while others employ two and even three hands.
When more than one hand is used the hours and minutes are indicated
simultaneously and, if cards are pasted on the clock face, the largest
hand is used to find the chosen cards.
The clock may be placed on a pedestal, in an upright position, or hung
in midair on two ribbons or strings. It can be hung on a stand made
expressly for the purpose, on the style of a music stand, or it can be
swung in a frame. In fact, as stated before, it is usually placed so as
to facilitate the method of working.
[Illustration: M. Jacobs, magician, ventriloquist, and bold imitator of
John Henry Anderson. From a rare lithograph now in the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
When the cabalistic clock is taken off the hook or the stand on which it
is placed, and handed to one of the spectators to hold, the latter
places the hand on the pin in the centre of the glass face, and
revolves it. The arrow or hand is worked by a counterweight, controlled
by the performer, who has it fixed before he hands it to the innocent
spectator. The clock can be purchased from any reliable dealer of
conjuring apparatus, in almost any part of the world.
For a clock worked by counterweight the hand of thin brass is prepared
in the centre, where there is a weight of peculiar shape which has at
the thin or tapering end a small pin. This pin is fixed permanently to
the weight and can be revolved about the small plate on which it is
riveted. Through this plate there is a hole, exactly in the centre. This
hand has all this covered with a brass cap, and, to make the arrow point
to any given number, you simply move the weight with your thumb. The pin
clicks and allows you to feel it as it moves from one hole to another.
With very little practice you can move this weight, while in the act of
handing it to some one to place it on the centre of the clock face; and
when spun, the weight, of its own accord, will land on the bottom,
causing the hand to point where it is forced by the law of gravity. The
plate on which the weight is fastened is grooved or milled, so that it
answers to the slightest movement of your thumb.
When the clock is on the stage and the hand moves simply by the command
of the performer or audience, it is manipulated by an assistant behind
the scenes, either by the aid of electricity or by an endless thread
which is wrapped about the spindle and runs through the two ribbons or
strings that hold the clock in midair. Some conjurers work the clock so
arranged as to make a combination trick; first by having it worked by
the concealed confederate; then, taking the clock off the stand and
bringing it down in the midst of the audience. But for this trick you
can use only one hand.
[Illustration: The above diagram exposes the magic clock trick, as
offered in the time of Hofrath von Eckartshausen, a German writer on
magic in the eighteenth and the nineteenth centuries. Fig. 15 shows the
clock in position for the trick, hung against the rear wall or "drop."
Gaily-colored ribbons hide thin leather tubes through which run two sets
of stout silk thread or catgut, connecting with the hour and minute
hands. The thread then passes through the two iron rings, p and o in
Figures 17 and 19, which are screwed to the ceiling; thence to the
hidden confederate, who manipulates the clock hands as the hour and
minute are announced by magician or spectator. Fig. 16 shows the two
faces of the clock, with the fine connecting rod around which the string
is wound to manipulate the hands. This mechanism is hidden by a flat
brass band which encircles the edges of the two transparent faces. From
Eckartshausen's "The Conjurer's Pocket," edition of 1791.]
Years ago when I introduced this trick in my performance, I called a
young man on my stage and asked him to place the hand on the spindle. It
would then revolve and stop at any number named. But first I made him
inform the audience the number he had chosen, which gave me time to fix
the weight with my thumb. I then gave him the hand, but he was a skilled
mechanic, and possibly knew the trick. Instead of holding the clock by
the ring at the top, which was there for that purpose, he grasped the
dial at the bottom, causing the number 6 instead of 12 to be on top.
When the hand started to turn, of course it would have stopped at the
wrong number. I managed to escape humiliation by pretending I was afraid
he would break the clock by letting it fall, so took it away from him,
holding it myself.
[Illustration: Newspaper clipping of 1782, showing that Katterfelto used
the cabalistic clock. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
[Illustration: Reproduction of rare engraving of Johann Nep. Hofzinser,
who invented the clock worked by a counter-weight, and who was one of
the world's greatest card tricksters. Original in the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
The mechanic walked off the stage winking at me in the most roguish
manner.
Robert-Houdin worked The Mystic Bell trick in connection with The Clock.
This was manipulated in the same way. The bell was worked with thread,
pulling a small pin, which in turn caused the handle to fall against the
glass bell. Naturally, having electricity at his command at that time,
he made use of that force whenever it suited his fancy.
I am positive that Robert-Houdin presented the electrical clock, because
T. Bolin, of Moscow, visited Paris and bought the trick from Voisin, the
French manufacturer of conjuring apparatus. The trick which
Robert-Houdin presented, according to his claims, was with the clock
hanging in midair to prove that it was not electrically connected, but
the truth of the matter is that the strings which held the clock
suspended in midair concealed the wires through which his electrical
current ran.
In my library of old conjuring books the thread method is ably described
by Hofrath von Eckartshausen, mentioned earlier in this chapter. In fact
in the pictorial appendix of this work he gives this trick prominence by
minutely illustrating the same. He makes use of two hands, and to make
the trick infallible he explains that the best way would be to use two
glass disks, have them held together by a brass rim, and your threads
will work with absolute certainty. The spectators imagine that they are
seeing only one glass clock.
Johann Conrad Gutle, the well-known delver after secrets of natural
magic, also explains several cabalistic clock tricks in his book
published in 1802.
[Illustration: Reproduction of a triple colored lithograph. This section
features Breslaw in stage costume. Original in the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
I am reproducing herewith a number of programmes describing the effect
of the trick and proving that it was no novelty when Robert-Houdin
"invented" it. In fact the trick was so common that only the supreme
egotism of the man can explain his having introduced it into the pages
of his book as an original trick. The mysterious clock worked by the
counterweight, which has been described, is credited as having been the
invention of Johann Nep. Hofzinser.
[Illustration: Katterfelto, the bombastic conjurer, who is famous for
having sold sulphur matches in 1784, before the Lucifer match is
supposed to have been discovered. Reproduced from a rare copy of "The
European Magazine," dated June, 1783, now in the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
In an advertisement, published in the _London Post_ of May 23d, 1778,
included in my collection, this announcement, among others of much
interest, will be found:
"PART II.--Breslaw will exhibit many of his newly invented deceptions
with a grand apparatus and experiments and particularly the Magic Clock,
Sympathetic Bell, and Pyramidical Glasses in a manner entirely new."
In 1781, while showing at Greenwood's Rooms, Haymarket, London, Breslaw
heavily advertised, "Particularly an experiment on a newly invented
mechanical clock will be displayed, under the direction of Sieur
Castinia, just arrived from Naples, the like never attempted before in
this metropolis."
There is every reason to believe that Katterfelto, the greatest of
bombastic conjurers, used the electrical clock in his performances, as
he made a feature of the various late discoveries, and in his programme
of 1782 he advertises "feats and experiments in Magnetical, Electrical,
Optical, Chymical, Philosophical, Mathematical, etc., etc." Among
implements and instruments or articles mentioned I found Watches,
Caskets, Dice, Cards, Mechanical Clocks, Pyramidical Glasses, etc., etc.
Gyngell, Sr., the celebrated Bartholomew Fair conjurer, whose career
started about 1788, had on his early programmes, "A Pedestal Clock, so
singularly constructed that it is obedient to the word of command." On
the same programme (Catherine Street Theatre, London, February 15th,
1816) I find "The Russian Inn," "The Confectioner's Shop," and "The
Automaton Rope Vaulter." This programme is reproduced in full in Chapter
IV.
Without devoting further space to Robert-Houdin's absurd claim to having
invented this clock, we will proceed to discuss his claims to the
automaton rope walker, which he called a trapeze performer.
_The Trapeze Automaton_
Though "Diavolo Antonio" or "Le Voltigeur Trapeze" was not a simple
trick, but a cleverly constructed automaton, worked by a concealed
confederate, it was a common feature on programmes long before
Robert-Houdin claimed it as his invention. Yet with the daring of one
who believes that all proof has been destroyed, he announces on page 312
of the American edition of his "Memoirs" that he invented "The Trapeze
Performer" for his season of 1848. In the illustrated appendix of his
French edition he states that the figure made its first appearance at
his Paris theatre, October 1st, 1849. He thus describes the automaton:
[Illustration: Copy of a poster used by Robert-Houdin to advertise his
trapeze performer. This proves how accurately he duplicated the Pinetti
figure, even to the arrangement of floral garlands. From the Harry
Houdini Collection.]
"The figure is the size of an infant, and I carry the little artist on
my arm in a box. I put him on the trapeze and ask him questions, which
he answers by moving his head. Then he bows gracefully to the audience,
turning first this way, then that; suspends himself by his hands and
draws himself up in time to the music. He also goes through the motions
of a strong man, hangs by his head, hands, and feet, and with his legs
making the motions of aërial telegraphy."
[Illustration: Reproduction of an illustration in "Aufschlüsse zur
Magie," by Hofrath von Eckartshausen, showing the automatic rope vaulter
as exhibited in 1784 by Pinetti. Original in the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
[Illustration: A Bologna bill of 1812, featuring the automatic rope
dancers. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Decremps in his exposé, "The Conjurer Unmasked," published in 1784, thus
describes the automaton and its work: "Our attention was next called to
observe an automaton figure, that vaulted upon a rope, performing all
the postures and evolutions of the most expert tumblers, keeping exact
time to music. By seeing Mr. Van Estin wind up the figures, and being
shown the wheels and levers contained in the body of the automaton,
caused us to believe it moved by its own springs, when Mr. Van Estin
thus explained the deception: 'To make a figure of this kind depends a
great deal on the proportion and the materials with which it is
composed: The legs and thighs are formed out of heavy wood, such as ash
or oak; the body of birch or willow, and made hollow, and the head,
for lightness, of papier-maché. The figure is joined by its hands to a
bar of iron, that passes through a partition, and is turned by a
confederate; the arms are inflexible at the elbows, but move freely at
the shoulders by means of a bolt that goes through the body; and the
thighs and legs move in the same manner at the hips and knees, and are
stayed by pieces of leather to prevent them from bending in the wrong
way. The bar is covered with hollow twisted tubes, and ornamented with
artificial flowers, so as no part of it can be seen to turn; the
confederate by giving the handle a quarter of a turn to the left, the
automaton, whose arms are parallel to the horizon, lift themselves by
little and little, till they become vertical and parallel to the rest of
the body; if in following the same direction, the other part of the body
moves forward; and by watching the motions through a hole, he seizes the
instant that a leg passes before the bar, to leave the automaton
astride; afterward he balances it by jerks, and causes it to take a turn
around, keeping time with the music as if it was sensible of harmony.
"N.B.--Three circumstances concur here to favor the illusion: First, by
the assistance of a wire, the confederate can separate the bar from the
automaton, which, falling to the ground, persuades one it loses itself
by real machinery. Secondly, in winding up the levers shown in the body,
confirms the spectators in the idea that there is no need of a
confederate. Thirdly, the tubes that are twisted around the bar, except
where the automaton is joined to it, seem to be the rope itself, and
being without motion, as is seen by the garlands which surround them, it
cannot be suspected that the bar turns in the inside, from whence it is
concluded that the figure moves by its own machinery."
According to one of de Philipsthal's advertisements, page 103, the
trapeze automaton which he featured was six feet in height. But Pinetti
programmes show that he had a smaller figure known as the rope vaulter.
This is probably the trick exposed in Decremps' book.
On page 108 will be found a Louis programme of 1815, on which a figure
is thus featured:
"TWO ELEGANT AUTOMATA
As large as nature, the one representing a beautiful POLONNESE, the
other a little boy.
Nothing can surpass the admirable construction of these Pieces. The
large figure seems almost endowed with human Faculties, exhibiting the
usual feats of a Rope-Dancer, in the fullest imitation of life. The
small Figure is invested with equally astonishing powers of action. To
such ladies as are spectators it must be a very pleasing circumstance
that these exertions do not excite those disagreeable sensations which
arise from the sight of Figures fraught with life, performing feats
attended with so much danger."
By referring to page 113 the reader will find a Schmidt programme, dated
1827, on which the figure is featured as follows:
"THE ROPE DANCER,
Whose surprising performances surpass, in agility, attitudes, and
evolutions, every Professor of the art, keeping correct time to the
music of the machinery."
A Gyngell programme, dated 1823, which is reproduced in the chapter
devoted to "The Pastry Cook of the Palais Royal," page 125, reads as
follows: "Two automatons, one of which will execute wonderful feats on
the tight rope, and the other dance a characteristic hornpipe."
As Gyngell figured in the amusement world from 1788 to 1844, the little
figure must have been tolerably well known to the magic-loving public of
England by the time Robert-Houdin appeared in London in 1848.
[Illustration: A de Philipsthal programme of 1806 on which both the
automatic tight-rope performer and the magnetic clock were featured.
From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
[Illustration: A Thiodon bill of 1825, in which he claims the invention
of a figure that could be lifted on or off the stage or pole. This was
twenty-five years before Robert-Houdin claimed the same invention. From
the Harry Houdini Collection.]
A magician named York, who appeared in London in 1844, the year before
Robert-Houdin made his professional début, featured under date of
January 29th "two automatons, one of which will execute wonderful feats
on the Tight Rope, and the other dance a characteristic Hornpipe."
Bologna announced for his performance at the Sans Pareil Theatre,
Strand, London, under date of March 18th, 1812, "The Two Automaton Rope
Dancers from St. Petersburg, whose Feats of Agility were never equalled,
and cannot be surpassed, will perform together in a style of Excellence
hitherto unknown in this country."
De Philipsthal also featured a pair of automatic tight-rope performers
from 1804 until his death; and in the early 30's the figures were
exhibited by his widow. By referring to Chapter III. a De-Philipsthal
programme of 1806 is reproduced as evidence.
From 1825 to 1855 J. F. Thiodon played London and the provinces,
advertising on his programmes:
"FOURTH PIECE.--The Wonderful and Unrivalled Automaton on the Flying
Rope. The only one of this construction in the Kingdom; and forms a more
extraordinary Novelty from the circumstances of its not being fastened
on the Rope by the Hands, like others hitherto exhibited. The Rope will
be in continual Motion, and the Figure will sit perfectly easy and in a
graceful attitude while on the Swing, and perform the most surprising
Evolutions, scarcely to be distinguished from a Living Performer, as it
moves with the utmost Correctness, without any apparent Machinery."
From this overwhelming evidence it can be argued beyond doubt that if
Robert-Houdin even constructed the automaton he merely copied figures
presented by both his predecessors and his contemporaries, and he was
fully aware of the existence of several such automata when he advertised
his as an original invention. They were made by many mechanicians.
In the illustrated appendix of the French edition of his "Memoirs" he
goes further; he deliberately misrepresents the mechanism of the figure
and insinuates that the automaton is a self-working one. This is not
true, as it was worked by a concealed confederate, as described above by
Decremps.
Robert-Houdin even used the garlands of flowers to hide the moving bars
as Pinetti and others of his predecessors had done. The truth was not in
him.
CHAPTER VI
THE INEXHAUSTIBLE BOTTLE
While Robert-Houdin claims to have invented "The Inexhaustible Bottle"
for a special programme designed to create a sensation at the opening of
his season of 1848, in the illustrated appendix of the original French
edition of his "Memoirs" he states that it had its premier presentation
December 1st, 1847. These discrepancies occur with such frequency that
it is difficult to refute his claims in chronological order. Perhaps he
adopted this method intentionally, to confuse future historians of
magic, particularly concerning his own achievements.
In order to emphasize the brilliancy of this trick, Robert-Houdin turned
boastful in describing it. On page 348 of the American edition of his
"Memoirs," he states that the trick had created such a sensation and was
so much exploited in the London newspapers that the fame of his
inexhaustible bottle spread to the provinces, and on his appearance in
Manchester with the bottle in his hand the workmen who made up the
audience nearly mobbed him. In fact, the description of this scene is
the most dramatic pen-picture in his "Memoirs."
The truth, sad to state, is that the bottle trick did not create the
sensation he claims for it in London, nor did the press eulogize it. It
was classed with other ordinary tricks, and twenty London papers bear
mute testimony to this fact. In a complete collection of press clippings
regarding his first London appearance, only four of the London papers
mention the trick. _The Times_, the great conservative English paper, in
reviewing Robert-Houdin's performance in its issue of May 3d, 1847,
ignored the trick entirely. The four London papers which made mention of
the bottle trick, and then only in a passing comment, were _The
Chronicle_, _The Globe_, _The Lady's Newspaper_, and _The Court
Journal_. Any one acquainted with the two last-named periodicals will
know that they rarely reach the hands of the humble artisans in
Manchester. _Punch_, London's great comic paper, gave the trick some
space, however.
The trick of pouring several sorts of liquors from the same bottle has
been presented in various forms and under different names. To prove the
futility of Robert-Houdin's claims I will explain the mystery of this
trick, which is of an interesting nature.
To all intents and purposes the bottle used looks like glass; but it is
invariably made of tin, heavily japanned. Ranged around the central
space, which is free from deception, are five compartments, each
tapering to a narrow-mouthed tube which terminates about an inch or an
inch and a half from within the neck of the bottle. A small pinhole is
drilled through the outer surface of the bottle into each compartment,
the holes being so placed that when the bottle is grasped with the hand
in the ordinary way, the performer covers all but one of the pinholes
with his fingers and thumb. The centre section is left empty, but the
other compartments are filled with a funnel which has a tapering nozzle
made specially for this purpose.
The trick is generally started by proving to the audience that the
bottle is empty. It is then filled with water, which is immediately
poured out again, all this time the five pinholes being covered tightly
with the hand or fingers which are holding the bottle. When a liquor is
called for, the performer raises the finger over the air-hole above that
particular liquor, and the liquor will flow out. When a large number of
liquors may be called for, the performer has one compartment filled with
a perfectly colorless liquor, which he pours into glasses previously
flavored with strong essences. Certain gins and cordials can be
simulated in this fashion.
Various improvements have been made in this bottle trick. For instance,
after the bottle has yielded its various sorts of liquors, it is broken,
and from the bottle the performer produces some borrowed article which
has been "vanished" in a previous trick and then apparently forgotten.
This may have been a ring, glove, or handkerchief, which will be
discovered tied around the neck of a small guinea-pig or dove taken from
the broken bottle.
This is accomplished by having the bottle especially constructed. Its
compartments end a few inches above the bottom of the bottle and the
portion below having a wavy or cracked appearance, is made to slip on
and off. The conjurer goes through the motions of actually breaking the
bottle by tapping it near the bottom with a small hammer or wand, and
the appearance of the guinea-pig or lost article causes surprise, so
that the pretended breaking of the bottle passes unnoticed.
Again, this bottle can be genuine, with no loose bottom at all, and a
small article can be inserted, but this makes a great deal of trouble,
and the effect is not greatly increased. In doing the trick thus, I was
always compelled to have an optician cut the bottom from the bottle, and
then at times even he would break it.
To explain further how the article is "loaded" into the bottle, the
performer borrows several articles, for example a ring and two watches.
He will place the ring and watches into a funnel at the end of a large
horse-pistol, and shoot them at the target. The two watches appear on
the target or in a frame or any place that he may choose. In obtaining
the articles, he may have wrapped them up in a handkerchief which he has
hidden in the front of his vest. Alexander Herrmann was exceptionally
clever in making this exchange, his iron nerve and perpetual smile being
great aids in the trick.
The performer now places the duplicate handkerchief on the table in full
view of the audience, and walks to another table for a gun. While
reaching for this gun, he places the original articles which he borrowed
behind his table on a servante, so that his hidden assistant may reach
for them, place the two watches on the "turn-about target," tie the ring
on the neck of the guinea-pig, shove him into the bottle, and insert the
false bottom. The trick is then ready in its entirety.
The magician calls for something to use as a target, and the assistant
responds with the revolving target or frame. When the conjurer shoots,
the two watches appear on the target or in the frame. This part of the
trick is accomplished by having the centre of the target revolve, or,
if the frame is used, by having a black velvet curtain pulled up by
rapid springs or strong rubbers.
While all this is going on, some one has brought on the stage the loaded
bottle, and as no attention is called to this, by the time the watches
have been restored to the owners the conjurer introduces the bottle
trick, pours out the various liquors, and eventually breaks the bottle
and reproduces the borrowed article tied about the neck of the
guinea-pig or dove.
Many names have been given to this trick. The old-time magicians who
remained for months in one theatre had to change their programmes
frequently, so for one night they would present the bottle without
breaking it, and on the next they would break the bottle, so as to vary
the trick.
This bottle trick originated in "The Inexhaustible Barrel." The first
trace that I can find of this wonderful barrel is in "Hocus Pocus, Jr.,
The Anatomie of Legerdemain," written by Henry Dean in 1635 (Second
Edition). On page 21 is described a barrel with a single spout, from
which can be drawn three different kinds of liquors. This was worked
precisely on the same principle as was the inexhaustible bottle trick
centuries later, by shutting up the air-holes of compartments from which
liquors were not flowing.
Its first public appearance, according to the data in my collection,
clipped from London papers of 1707 and 1712, was when the "famous
water-works of the late ingenious Mr. Henry Winstanly" were exhibited by
his servants for the benefit of his widow; and the exhibition included
a view of "the Barrel that plays so many Liquors and is broke in pieces
before the Spectators."
In 1780 Dr. Desaguliers presented in London a performance entitled "A
Course of Experimental Philosophy wherein the Principles of Mechanics,
Hydrostatics, Pneumatics, and Optics are proved and demonstrated by more
than 300 Experiments."
In the course of these lectures he produced a sort of barrel, worked by
holding the fingers over the air-holes. He also exposed the real source
of strength of the notorious strong man of his day, John Carl von
Eckeberg, who allowed horses to pull against him, permitted heavy stones
to be broken on his bare chest, and who broke heavy ropes simply by
stretching or straightening his knees. These lectures and exposés made
Dr. Desaguliers so famous that he has been given considerable space in
Sir David Brewster's "Letters on Natural Magic," published in London in
1851, in which book the various deceptions used by strong men are fully
described. In fact the book is one that should be in every conjurer's
library.
The old Dutch books explain the barrel trick, and in 1803 Charles
Hutton, professor of Woolwich Royal Academy, translated four books from
Ozanam and Montucla, exposing quite a number of old conjuring tricks.
The barrel trick will be found on page 94 of Volume II.
The first use of "The Inexhaustible Bottle" by modern conjurers I found
in an announcement of Herr Schmidt, a German performer, who for a time
controlled the original writing and drawing figure, as will be found by
reference to Chapter III., which is devoted to the history of that
automaton. The programme published in that chapter is dated 1827, and
does not include the famous bottle, because it was no longer a novelty
in Herr Schmidt's répertoire; but the advertisement reproduced herewith,
dated 1821, schedules the bottle trick thus: "The Bottle of Sobriety and
Inebriety, proving the inutility of a set of decanters, when various
liquors can be produced by one." Thus Schmidt antedated Houdin's
offering of the trick by more than a quarter of a century.
[Illustration: A Schmidt programme of 1821, featuring the "Bottle of
Sobriety and Inebriety." From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Next the bottle turned up in 1835 in London, where it was presented by a
German who styled himself "Falck of Koenigsberg, Pupil of the celebrated
Chevalier Pinnetty," and who introduced the programme with which Döbler
made such a sensation in 1842.
[Illustration: Poster used by Falck of Koenigsberg in 1835, featuring
the trick of exchange of wine. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Mr. Falck opened at the Queen's Bazaar, Oxford Street, London, November
8th, 1835. Before opening, however, he gave a private performance for
the press, and received quite a number of notices. A half-column
clipping in my collection, dated November 4th, 1835, which I think is
cut from _The Chronicle_ or _The Globe_, mentions the trick among other
effects like "Flora's Gift," "The Card in the Pocket," etc., and adds
that the "exchange of wine was so that if once in Mr. Falck's company,
we should not wish to exchange it, for he poured three sorts of wine,
Port, Sherry, and Champagne, out of one bottle. Then he put them
together, and from such a mixture produced sherry in one glass, and port
in another."
From this notice it will be seen that Falck had "The Inexhaustible
Bottle," and had some method of returning all the liquors not drunk back
into the bottle and then pouring out two different kinds of liquor.
Perhaps he resorted to chemicals, but one thing is evident--the bottle
was used for six different kinds of liquors at one and the same time.
[Illustration: Poster used by Phillippe during his Edinburgh engagement
in 1838, featuring "The Infernal Bottle." From the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
Phillippe from 1836 to 1838 featured "An Infernal Bottle" trick, also
"The Inexhaustible Bottle" trick. The trick also was seen on programmes
used by John Henry Anderson, the Wizard of the North, in the same years.
According to these programmes Phillippe and Anderson showed the bottle
empty, filled it with water, and then served five different liquors.
On April 30th, 1838, Anderson thus announced the trick on a programme
used at Victoria Rooms, Hull:
"Handkerchiefs will be borrowed from three gentlemen; the magician will
load his mystic gun, in which he will place the handkerchiefs; he will
fire a bottle containing wine, the bottle will be broken and the
handkerchiefs will appear."
Programmes in my collection show that Anderson presented the trick,
serving various sorts of liquors, when he played London in 1840, but
little attention was drawn to the wonderful bottle. In 1842 Ludwig
Döbler, Germany's best-beloved magician, came to London and featured
what he termed "The Travelling Bottle."
[Illustration: Reproduction of a political cartoon in _Punch_, published
during Anderson's London engagement, April, 1843, proving that the
"Inexhaustible Bottle Trick" was used by Anderson before Robert-Houdin
was a professional entertainer. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
[Illustration: Ludwig Döbler in his prime, taken about 1839. The
original of this rare picture was discovered by the author in a small
print shop in Moscow, Russia. It is now a part of his Collection.]
Ludwig Leopold Döbler was born in Vienna in 1801. He was the
best-beloved magician who ever trod the stage. He started life as an
engraver of metals, but his fancy turned to necromancy. He gave his best
performances in his native city. In 1841 he was touring Holland, and in
a letter now in my possession, which he wrote to a director and editor
in Vienna under date of March 15th, 1842, he informs his friend that he
has sent all his baggage to London from Amsterdam, and is on a visit to
Paris. He regrets that he has not all of his apparatus with him, but has
given several performances, and mentions the fact that "to-morrow I am
engaged to give a performance in the private parlor of Rothschild and
then by the Count Montaliset, minister of the King's mansions." He
also informs his friend that he expects to visit Paris the next season
and build his own theatre. He states a fact most interesting to all
magicians, namely, that he has rented the St. James Theatre in London
for two thousand francs ($400) a night, or more than $2,400 rent for one
week. Döbler drew such big audiences and made so much money that he
refused to give private performances, only breaking this rule when
presenting his show before H. M. Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort.
[Illustration: A Döbler programme from the Evanion collection, dated
1842, now in the possession of the author.]
He played the provinces, then went over to Dublin, where, although
unable to speak English, he was a veritable sensation. In 1844 Döbler
played a return date at the St. James Theatre, London, and this time he
had Anderson as a rival at the Théâtre Royal Adelphia.
Döbler amassed a fortune very rapidly; in fact he retired in 1847, and
never again appeared on the stage. He always explained his early
retirement by saying: "The public loves me, and I want it to always love
me. I may return and be a failure, so it is best to know just when to
stop." He died in a little village near Tunitz, on April 17th, 1864,
when one of God's noblemen was laid to rest.
"The Travelling Bottle" alluded to by Döbler in his programmes was
nothing more or less than "The Inexhaustible Bottle." The following
excerpt from the London _Chronicle_ during Döbler's engagement at the
St. James Theatre, April, 1842, is illuminating:
[Illustration: Döbler's farewell programme in verse, used when he played
his last engagement in the Josephstadter Theatre, Vienna. Original given
by Döbler personally to Henry Evanion; now in the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
[Illustration: Ludwig Döbler in his prime, offering his most popular
trick, "The Creation of Flowers." From a rare lithograph in the Harry
Houdini Collection.]
"DÖBLER--ST. JAMES THEATRE.--Among the illusions that more particularly
struck our fancy was one entitled 'The Travelling Bottle,' where Herr
Döbler, filling a common bottle with water, transformed this water into
a collection of wines of all countries, amicably assembled together in
one receptacle, and he fills out first a glass of sherry, then one of
port, then one of champagne, and so on."
The critic then describes how the bottle was broken, and the borrowed
handkerchief was found inside the bottle.
[Illustration: Döbler programme with illustrations of his tricks, used
during his engagement at the St. James Theatre, London. From the Harry
Houdini Collection.]
Probably because of the prominence which Herr Döbler gave to this trick
it attracted more attention when Anderson presented it during his London
run of 1843. He announced it as "Water vs. Wine, or Changing Water into
Different Liquids--Sherry, Port, Champagne, Gin, Milk, Rum, and Water."
[Illustration: Programme used by Macallister at the Bowery Theatre,
August 11th, 1852, during his second engagement in New York City.
Featuring the "Magic Bottle" from which twenty-two kinds of liquor could
be drawn. Careful reading will unearth Macallister's ill-will toward
Anderson. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
The London _Sun_ of April 18th, 1843, says:
"Mr. Anderson, besides the feats by which his reputation was established
in his former exhibitions in the metropolis, performed with perfect ease
and success some of greater difficulty than those by which Herr Döbler
astonished the world, such as serving several kinds of wines from the
same bottle."
_The Morning Advertiser_ (London) of the same date said:
"With the utmost ease he produced from an empty bottle wine, water,
port, sherry, and champagne, and immediately afterward, under a blaze of
wax and gas, he broke the same bottle and produced from it half a dozen
cambric handkerchiefs, which had previously been deposited under lock
and key at a considerable distance."
[Illustration: Andrew Macallister as he appeared during his engagement
in the United States. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Macallister, the Scotch brick-mason, who became the pupil and assistant
of Phillippe, as described in the chapter on "The Pastry Cook of the
Palais Royal," also claimed the bottle trick as his invention. I have
been unable to obtain any of the early programmes used by Macallister,
but I am reproducing the one he utilized during his engagement at the
Bowery Theatre, New York City, in 1852. This was not his first
appearance in New York, however. In December, 1848, and January, 1849,
he played at the same theatre, and announced that he had just concluded
a successful engagement at the Grand Theatre Tacon, Havana, Cuba.
[Illustration: The original Compars Herrmann, who was Robert-Houdin's
very active rival during the latter's first engagement in London. Best
portrait now in existence, and only one showing Herrmann in his prime.
Original photograph loaned for this work by James L. Kernan, of
Baltimore, Md., U. S. A.]
Although Macallister claims to have invented "The Inexhaustible Bottle"
trick, it is more likely that, having been connected so long with
Phillippe, he knew the secret several years before Robert-Houdin
appeared in public. But as Macallister also claimed to have invented the
peacock and the harlequin automata, both of which are recognized as the
inventions of his predecessors, his claim cannot be given serious
consideration.
He advertised to produce twenty-two kinds of liquors from one bottle,
and therefore he must have utilized the essence glasses in connection
with the bottle.
What must have been Robert-Houdin's feeling when, on arriving in London
in 1848, he found another magician, Compars Herrmann, heavily advertised
at the Théâtre Royal, and already offering each and every trick included
by the Frenchman in his répertoire. Even the much-vaunted bottle was in
Herrmann's list of tricks. No one seems able to tell where Compars
Herrmann obtained the tricks he used, but he must be given credit for
never advertising them as his own inventions. His record in this respect
was clean throughout his life as a mysterious entertainer.
The programme presented by Herrmann at the Théâtre Royal during
Robert-Houdin's opening week at the St. James Theatre is herewith
reproduced. Herrmann remained some time in London, playing at the
Adelphia, then at the Royal Princess, and finally at the Surrey
Theatre. A bill used by Herrmann at the Princess is reproduced on page
232. It evidently proved satisfactory to the public and he used it
without change for many years.
[Illustration: Billing used by Compars Herrmann when he played in
opposition to Robert-Houdin on the latter's arrival in London. This
shows that Herrmann duplicated all of Robert-Houdin's tricks. From the
Harry Houdini Collection.]
Probably the most notable warfare waged over the honor of having
invented this trick arose between Robert-Houdin and Henri Robin, who
were contemporaries.
[Illustration: A Herrmann programme dated April, 1848, showing that
Herrmann presented the inexhaustible bottle two months before
Robert-Houdin appeared in London.]
[Illustration: Henri Robin, generally conceded to have been the most
polished conjurer in the history of magic. From the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
Robin, whose right name was Dunkell, was of Holland birth and died in
Paris in 1874. He was at his prime about 1839-40, when he toured the
Continent. He was popular in London, Paris, and both the English and
French provinces. A polished man, famous for the elegance of his speech
and manners, he conducted his performance and all his business in a
quiet, conservative fashion. In both Paris and London, he had playhouses
named temporarily in his honor, Salle de Robin, and at one time in
London he also appeared at the Egyptian Hall. He published his own
magazine, _L'Almanach d'Cagliostro_, an illustrated periodical which was
quite pretentious.
Robin presented all the tricks and automata that Robert-Houdin claimed
as his original inventions, and in the famous controversy, Robert-Houdin
came out second best. Robin proved that he had used the bottle trick
before Robert-Houdin did, by showing back numbers of his magazine, whose
illustrations pictured Robin performing the trick at his theatre in
Milan, Italy, July 6th, 1844, or three years before Robert-Houdin
presented it in Paris.
Robin, however, never wrote an autobiography nor any exhaustive work
dealing with the history of magic, while Robert-Houdin did. The latter
set forth his claims over other magicians so skilfully that for more
than half a century the intelligent and thoughtful reading public has
been deceived and has accepted his statements as authoritative.
According to an article published in _L'Illusionniste_, scientists to
this day, in explaining the law of physics as operated by the use of
air-holes in the inexhaustible bottle, refer to it as the "Robert-Houdin
bottle," when in reality the honor of its invention belongs to some
obscure mechanic or magician whose name must remain forever unsung by
writers on magic.
CHAPTER VII
SECOND SIGHT
Evidently second sight was the foundation-stone of Robert-Houdin's
success. Reading between the lines of his autobiography, one finds that
this was the trick which carried him into the salons of fashion and
royalty. Before he introduced second sight into his répertoire, his
tricks were so commonplace that they did not arouse the interest of the
court circle, whose approval furnished the seal of success.
This trick of second sight he claims body and soul, as the favorite
child of his brain. He even goes as far as to relate a story to prove
that the trick came to him in the form of an inspiration. I quote
directly from the American edition of his "Memoirs," page 255:
"My two children were playing one day in the drawing-room at a game they
had invented for their own amusement; the younger had bandaged his elder
brother's eyes and made him guess the objects that he touched, and when
the latter happened to guess right they changed places. This simple game
suggested to me the most complicated idea that ever crossed my mind.
Pursued by the notion, I ran and shut myself in my workshop, and was
fortunately in that happy state when the mind follows easily the
combinations traced by fancy. I rested my head in my hands, and in my
excitement laid down the first principles of second sight."
[Illustration: Robert-Houdin and his son Emile, presenting second sight.
Here the bell is used as it was by Henri Robin. From an illustration in
the original French edition of the Robert-Houdin "Memoirs."]
Then, picking up the long idle quill of Baron Munchausen, he proceeds to
explain the methods by which he perfected the trick and trained his son.
To the layman these methods read most entertainingly. To the experienced
conjurer or his humblest assistant they appeal as absurd and impossible,
a sheer waste of time, of which a man who reproduced the tricks of his
predecessors as rapidly as Robert-Houdin did, would not be guilty.
[Illustration: Robert and Haidee Heller from photographs taken at the
time that they were presenting second sight according to the
Robert-Houdin method by an electric code. From the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
He claims to have trained the eye and memory of his son, by leading the
latter past shop windows, and after allowing him one glance, demanding
the names of articles seen at this single glance. When the boy could
mention forty things after passing the window, his education was
pronounced good. Robert-Houdin also tells in his "Memoirs" of spending
hours with his son in poring over an enormous collection of coins,
medals, etc., which severe lesson helped them both in future
performances. To the conjurer, this tale is farcical. Not only was there
no need of forcing the boy to become a coin expert, but the task was one
which could not be accomplished in the brief time which Robert-Houdin
allowed himself for perfecting the trick.
The only knowledge required about coins is to recognize a coin when you
see it. Some one may hand a coin of peculiar stamp, and the operator
must signal to his medium the metal and all he knows about it. Of
course, if both know the various coins, then they can understand each
other with less signaling than if the coins were unfamiliar to either.
Inaudi, the French calculator, can look at a blackboard filled with
numbers for a few seconds, then turn his back upon them and add the
entire amount that he has just seen and memorized. But let the reader
understand that Inaudi is peculiarly gifted by nature, while second
sight is a trick in which the person on the stage known as the medium is
assisted by words, signs, prearranged movements, or articles or figures
in rotation, which to the layman have the appearance of being
unprepared. At a familiar cue, however, the operator touches articles
that have been memorized, a ring, a watch, a scarf-pin, a lady's fan, an
opera glass, all in rotation. At a snap of the fingers the medium will
know that the articles are to be named in consecutive order, and only
after the snap of the fingers or another cue agreed upon.
[Illustration: Programme used by Robert Heller in 1851-52, when he was
about eighteen years of age. Probably the only programme of this date in
existence. Now in the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Robert-Houdin presented the trick for the first time at his own
theatre, February 12th, 1846. Unquestionably at this time he employed
the speaking code, wherein the answer is contained in the question asked
of the medium by the performer. As he describes scene after scene in
which he and his son participated, it is almost possible for a conjurer
or any one interested in magic to follow his code. Apparently the
amusement-loving public became familiar with his speaking code, for
three years later, according to the illustrated appendix of the French
edition of his "Memoirs," he adopted a code of signals, which he states
was especially arranged to confuse those whom he terms his "fearless
discoverers."
A mysterious bell was used in this connection, but he admits that it
mattered not whether the bell struck or was silent, his son could name
the object under consideration or answer the question. While
Robert-Houdin asserts that he did not employ electricity for working his
silent code, investigations make it almost certain that this was the
method used. It is known throughout the world of conjuring that in
1850-51 Robert Heller (William Henry Palmer) reproduced Robert-Houdin's
entire répertoire of tricks, with the exception of the suspension, and
all worked precisely by Robert-Houdin's methods. In the second-sight
trick, which he first presented with a young man as the medium, then
later with Miss Haidee Heller, the medium was seated on a sofa fully
equipped with wires and electric batteries. Heller's second sight was
worked with both the speaking and silent codes. His confederate was
concealed behind the scenes watching Heller through a peep-hole, or
possibly he used another, seated in the audience, and had the wires
strung under his chair, arranging the signal button so that it could
be easily reached on the arm or front part of the seat. The receiving
instrument was attached to the sofa on which the medium was seated. The
latter would be silently informed as to what was being shown and would
answer all questions. As proof that these statements are not mere
hearsay, the Heller sofa can now be seen in the possession of Mr.
Francis J. Martinka, of New York; and Dr. W. Golden Mortimer, who once
presented "Mortimer's Mysteries," a show on the style of Heller's
performance, furnishes the information that when Heller died in
Philadelphia, November 28th, 1878, he engaged the dead magician's chief
assistant, an expert electrician named E. J. Dale, who had acted as
secret confederate, assisting the medium.
[Illustration: Poster used by Robert Heller during his Boston engagement
in 1853. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
After travelling with Mortimer some time, Dale eventually returned to
England, and retired from the profession. He opened a large shop in
London under the firm name of H. & E. J. Dale, Manufacturing
Electricians, 4 Little Britain, E. C., in October, 1882.
It was the easiest thing imaginable for Robert-Houdin to have his
theatre arranged with secret confederates and wires back of the scenes,
where a man with powerful opera-glasses could stand. The place being
small, he could look all over the room and see the minutest article.
When not making use of the talking code, the simplest method employed by
second-sight artists is to have a confederate in the audience, with
either an electrical push button or a pneumatic bulb, who gives the
medium the signal. This is received by a miniature piston, which
requires only a small hole in the stage, while the medium has a matching
hole in the sole of his shoe. This allows the piston to touch the sole
of the foot whenever the confederate presses the bulb or pushes the
button.
[Illustration: The author at the long-neglected grave of Robert Heller,
in Mt. Moriah Cemetery, Philadelphia, U. S. A. From a photograph in the
Harry Houdini Collection.]
From this array of facts it will be seen that second sight is and always
has been a matter of well-drilled phrases or signals, prearranged
rotation of articles, well-built apparatus or well-trained confederates,
but never a feat of actual thought-transferrence.
Some of Robert-Houdin's ardent supporters insist that in claiming the
invention or discovery of second sight, the French conjurer was merely
an unconscious plagiarist, having stumbled upon, quite by accident, a
trick which he did not know that others had offered before him.
Such a statement is illogical and absurd. Books of magic to which
Robert-Houdin had access and which he admits having read describe the
trick in a more or less crude form. Pinetti, whose tricks were fully
described to Robert-Houdin by his old friend Torrini, used the
second-sight mystification with excellent effect. Robert-Houdin could
not have been ignorant of its existence as a trick. In making the claim
to its discovery in his "Memoirs" he simply trusted to the ignorance of
the reading public in the history of magic.
According to programmes and newspaper clippings in my collection, Philip
Breslaw was the first conjurer to feature second sight in his
performance. Breslaw was a clever German who so established himself in
the hearts of amusement-loving Englishmen that he remained in England
for forty years, dying in Liverpool in 1803. In 1781, while playing at
Greenwood's Rooms, Haymarket, London, he announced as Part One of his
entertainment:
"Mr. Breslaw will exhibit his new magical deceptions, Letters, Medals,
Dice, Pocket pieces, Rings, etc., etc., and particularly communicate the
thoughts of any person to another without the assistance of speech or
writing."
Pinetti comes next as an eminent presenter of second sight. Between
these two well-known conjurers there may have been various unimportant,
unchronicled performers who made use of Breslaw's trick, but they have
no place in the history of magic.
The trick appeared on a Pinetti programme at the Royal Haymarket,
London, England, December 1st, 1784, almost sixty-two years before
Robert-Houdin presented it as his original invention.
[Illustration: Clipping from the London _Post_, December 1st, 1784, in
which Pinetti featured second sight. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
The London _Morning Post and Daily Advertiser_ of December 1st, 1784,
contains the above advertisement, reproduced from my collection.
The talking code employed by Pinetti was not original with him, as it
dates back to the automaton worked by a concealed confederate who
controlled the piston for the mechanical figure or pulled the strings to
manipulate the dancing coins or moving head. It was novel only in its
application to the supposed thought-transferrence by a human being
instead of an automaton.
This code is described by various reliable authors. On page 388, Volume
III. of Hooper's "Recreations," edition 1782, it is stated that the
confederate worked the apparatus from another room. "By certain words,
previously agreed on, make it known to the confederate," is the advice
given to would-be conjurers.
Beckman in his "History of Inventions" relates that he knew an exhibitor
of a "talking figure" whose concealed confederate was cued to answer
certain questions, the answers being given in the manner of putting the
question, also by different signs. These instructions will be found on
page 311 of Volume II., edition of 1817.
[Illustration: Reproduction of front and back of original handbill
distributed on London streets in 1831, to advertise Master M'Kean. From
the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Decremps undertook to expose Pinetti's method of working the
second-sight trick in his famous book, but in this attempt he scored one
of the few failures which marked the bitter fight he waged against
Pinetti. In his book "La Magie Blanche Dévoilée" (White Magic Exposed),
first edition, 1784, he offers on page 40 "Les Cartes dévinées, les yeux
bandés" (The Divination of Cards with the Eyes Blindfolded). In this
feat Decremps explains that Pinetti would allow cards to be drawn, then
a lady (Signora Pinetti) would appear on the stage, would be
blindfolded, and would name all the cards that were drawn. Decremps
explains the prearranged pack of cards for this trick, also outlining
the manner of giving the medium the cue for certain phrases. For
instance, while explaining to the audience that he will not speak at
all, in the very sentences addressed to the spectators he informs the
medium which cards have been selected.
Pinetti's code must have been clever, as Decremps was unable to explain
the entire second-sight act. He has omitted the principal part of the
mystification, that is, naming the articles held up for the performer to
see.
That the card trick was only one test of his second-sight performance,
and that Pinetti's medium did not retire after naming the cards, are
facts shown by the following clipping from one of his announcements:
"Signora Pinetti will have the special honor and satisfaction of
exhibiting various experiments of new discovery, no less curious than
seemingly incredible, particularly that of her being seated in one of
the front boxes with an handkerchief over her eyes, and guess at
everything imagined and proposed to her by any person in the company."
Third on the list of second-sight performers, according to the data in
my collection, was Louis Gordon M'Kean, who created a sensation at the
Egyptian Hall Bazaar, Piccadilly, London, in 1831, or fifteen years
before Robert-Houdin, according to his claims, "discovered" second
sight. Young M'Kean was featured as possessing double, not second,
sight, and one of his bills is reproduced on page 212.
Another programme in my collection, dated the Théâtre Scarboro, Friday
evening, August 4th, 1837, announces "For a limited engagement of three
nights the Three Talented Highlanders and most extraordinary
Second-Sighted Young Highlanders."
[Illustration: Decoration on the broadside used to advertise a young
Dutchwoman who created a sensation in the early part of the eighteenth
century. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
These lads, I believe, were three brothers, one the original M'Kean, or
the latter working in conjunction with two other boys trained to the
tricks in order to secure more impressive results. The trio appeared
eight years before Robert-Houdin became a professional entertainer.
Holland also contributed a successful performer of second-sight tricks,
the medium in this case being a Dutchwoman who created a profound
sensation while touring Germany in the early part of the eighteenth
century. The billing used at the yearly fairs is an enormous poster
which would be unintelligible if reduced to a size suitable for
reproduction.
It is now a part of my collection and reads as follows:
[Illustration: Reproduction of original billing matter used by the
mysterious lady who offered second sight in the United States in
1841-42-43. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
[Illustration: Reproduction of the cut used on the mysterious lady's
handbills, distributed in America in 1841. From the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
"The Holland Maid, Twenty Years of Age, from Amsterdam, whose powers,
both in her residence there and in all other places to which she has
gone, have excited great astonishment and much applause, and she will
also in this place endeavor to obtain the same tribute of public
applause. She will after the exhibition place herself before the eyes of
all the spectators on the outside and gravely stand thereon and at all
times give an answer of assurance to any one present to whom her
judgment in all questions gives the most accurate response. She
contrives also by her acuteness to discover and reply to the least
thought, not until then explored. She guesses the age of every one,
whether they be married or not; how many children they have, of what
sex, and whether they be living or dead at the present time, etc. She
does the like for any one having a chance in the lottery, as to what is
its number, and what will be its share of gains. She also guesses at
every one of the most different sorts of coin, and even at the year with
which they were stamped. She guesses at every number which any one shall
secretly set down, even though it amount to upward a million. She
moreover tells exactly whether any one be in the Army, under how many
Monarchs he has served, in how many battles he has been engaged, and
whether he has ever been wounded and how many wounds he has received. By
throwing the Dice, she will every time exactly tell the very number of
spots which may have been determined on."
This wordy announcement is signed by W. Sahm, of Holland.
In my collection there is also an interesting handbill advertising the
tour of "The Mysterious Lady" who offered second-sight tricks in the
eastern part of the United States in 1842-43. Her name was never stated
on the programmes, but the latter, together with a clipping dated
Boston, February 20th, 1843, will suffice to prove my claim that she was
offering second-sight before Robert-Houdin did, and therefore could not
be copying his trick. She also appeared in England fully a year before
Robert-Houdin "discovered" second sight.
Henri Robin and his wife featured second sight in Italy just when
Robert-Houdin first offered it in Paris. It is barely possible that they
antedated Robert-Houdin in the production of this trick, for I have in
my collection a brochure entitled "Album des Soirées de M. et Mme.
Robin," which contains an engraving of the couple offering second-sight,
a short poem in honor of Mme. Robin's remarkable gifts as a second-sight
artist, and a poem generally eulogistic of M. Robin's talents dated
distinctly February 7th, 1846. Robert-Houdin presented second-sight for
the first time, according to his own "Memoirs," on February 12th, 1846.
[Illustration: Second sight as offered by M. and Mme. Robin, in which
Robin employed the bell and the goblet. From the latter she sipped
liquor, claiming it tasted like the wine secretly named by a spectator.
Robin's stage was equipped with electrical appliances. From the Harry
Houdini Collection.]
To prove the utter folly of Robert-Houdin's claims to having trained
his son's eye and memory by patient effort so as to have a mutual
transferrence of thought, I will next show that animals had been trained
for years to do tricks by secret signals before the alleged "discovery"
of second sight.
Two rare old bills in my collection advertise the marvellous
"mind-reading" performances of a goose and a blindfolded dog
respectively. The first, dated 1789, announces that a Mr. Beckett, a
trunk-maker of No. 31 Haymarket, is exhibiting "a Learned Goose, just
lately arrived from abroad.
"It performs the following tricks: performing upon cards, money, and
watches, telling the time of the month, year, and date, also the value
of any piece either English or foreign, distinguishing all sorts of
colors and (most prodigiously and certainly unbelieving to those who
know the intellects of a goose) she tells the number of ladies and
gentlemen in the company or any person's thoughts; any lady or gentleman
drawing a card out of the pack, though ever so secret, the Goose,
blindfolded at the same time, will find out the card they drew.
Admittance two shillings each person."
The second bill features Don Carlo, the Double-Sighted dog, which gave
an exhibition of his mysterious skill at the Pavillion by special
command, before King William and the royal family on December 17th,
1831. This dog was blindfolded and could present almost in duplicate the
second-sight tests offered by the Highland lad who five days later gave
a similar exhibition before the royal family at the same place.
[Illustration: Rare poster announcing the performance of the learned
goose, one of the first of the second-sight animal artists. Traced from
the original poster in the British Museum by the author.]
[Illustration: Billing used for Don Carlos, the double-sighted dog. From
the Harry Houdini Collection.]
This proof regarding the use of animals as "mediums" is offered not to
belittle the human mediums, but to prove that from start to finish, from
the day that Breslaw offered the trick to the present moment, when a
number of skilful so-called mind-readers still mystify the public, some
sort of speaking or signal code has been used. Robert-Houdin used both
the speaking and the signal code, but so did Breslaw, and all evidence
points to the fact that Robert-Houdin merely improved upon the trick
employed by Breslaw, Pinetti, and others among his predecessors in
magic, by utilizing the newly found assistant to the magician,
electricity. In his tiny theatre it would have been entirely feasible to
have had electric wires run from all points of the auditorium to the
stage, thus doing away with both the speaking and ordinary signal codes,
even the pneumatic tube. For this improvement, and this alone, should
Robert-Houdin be given credit. Nearly all magicians improve or redress
tricks or apparatus handed down to them by their predecessors, but
Robert-Houdin was not willing to admit that he owed anything to his
predecessors.
CHAPTER VIII
THE SUSPENSION TRICK
In chapters XVI. and XVII. of the American edition of his "Memoirs,"
Robert-Houdin states that he closed his theatre during the months of
July, August, and September, 1847, and devoted his time to producing new
tricks for the coming season. He chronicles as the result of these
labors the following additions to his répertoire: "The Crystal Box,"
"The Fantastic Portfolio," "The Trapeze Tumbler," "The Garde Française,"
"The Origin of Flowers," "The Crystal Balls," "The Inexhaustible
Bottle," "The Ethereal Suspension," etc.
Had these inventions really been original with the man who claimed them
as the result of his own brain-work and handicraft, three years would
not have sufficed to bring them to the perfection in which they were
presented at that time. It is not always the actual work that makes a
trick a success, nor the material from which it is constructed, but it
takes time to plan a new trick; and then after you have worked out the
idea, it takes more time to make it practical. The same piece of
apparatus may have to be made dozens of times, in as many shapes, before
it is presentable. Therefore, when Robert-Houdin claims to have invented
and built with his own hands the tricks mentioned in the list given
above, it is time to prove the improbability and falsity of his
statements.
[Illustration: A Robert-Houdin poster on which his complete repertoire
appears, under date of June 14th, 1852. From the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
[Illustration: Poster used by Robert-Houdin during his first London
engagement, featuring suspension. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Inventions are a matter of evolution, but as the tricks which
Robert-Houdin presented in his new répertoire were not new, he was able
to offer them as the result of three months' work. To the expert
mechanician or builder of conjuring apparatus his claim is farcical. The
majority of the tricks mentioned require skilled hands and infinite
patience, if they work in a way that will completely deceive the public.
Particularly is this true of the first suspension apparatus such as
Robert-Houdin must have used. This included a steel corset or frame for
the subject, and both the corset and the supporting rods had to be
strong, invisible to the audience, and still be perfect in mechanism.
Robert-Houdin, with characteristic ambiguity, does not refer to a
complicated mechanism, but lays stress on his ability to keep his tricks
up-to-date and in line with popular movements of the hour. In writing of
the suspension trick, he gives the impression that but for the sensation
created by the use of ether as an anæsthetic he would never have thought
out the new trick. His own words as presented on page 312 of the
American edition of his "Memoirs" are reproduced in this connection:
"It will be remembered that in 1847 the insensibility produced by
inhaling ether began to be applied to surgical operations; all the world
talked about the marvellous effect of this anæsthetic and its
extraordinary results. In the eyes of the people it seemed much akin to
magic. Seeing that the surgeons had invaded my domain, I asked myself if
this did not allow me to make reprisals. I did so by inventing my
ethereal suspension, which I believe was far more surprising than any
result obtained by my surgical brethren. This trick was much applauded,
and I am bound to say that my arrangements were excellently made. This
was the first time that I tried to direct the surprise of my spectators
by gradually heightening it up to the next moment, when, so to speak, it
exploded."
While Robert-Houdin, in his "Memoirs," claims to have invented the trick
for the season of 1847-48, in the illustrated appendix of the French
edition he states that the first production of the trick, with
improvements, was in October, 1849. The improvement consisted of working
the trick with a stool upon a platform, when, previous to this date, he
had used only the ordinary platform and rod.
During the course of researches covering many years, during which I
visited national libraries in various countries, the first trace of the
suspension trick was discovered in the writings of Ian Batuta, who
flourished about the thirteenth century. He mentions two conjurers who
performed before the court of the Mogul in Delhi. One of the men assumed
the form of a cube and rose into the air, where he remained suspended.
The other man then took off his shoe, struck it against a rock, and it
also rose and hung in midair, close to the suspended conjurer or human
cube. On being touched on the neck, the cube descended to the ground,
and the conjurer resumed his natural form.
The historical verity of this tale cannot be determined, and it may be
classed with the familiar story which crops up periodically, describing
the ball of cord thrown into the air for a youth to climb into the
clouds. Once out of sight, the youth is said to draw the cord up after
him; then presently a leg falls from the unseen heights, then another,
followed by an arm, a rib or two, and so on until the entire body is
scattered upon the ground, the head coming last with the neck standing
upward. At the command of the magician, the body seems to crawl
together, so runs the tale, and eventually the youth stands up to be
examined by the astonished populace.
[Illustration: Reproduction of an engraving in an old German
Encyclopædia in the Harry Houdini Collection, which credits to the
Chinese the trick of climbing into the air and having the body fall down
piecemeal and being set together again.]
These stories belong in the very first of the travellers' tales. In 1356
Sir John Mandeville, called by some authorities "the Father of English
Prose," after travelling thirty-four years, published a book detailing
some of his marvellous "witnessings." Though many of his stories are
absolutely impossible, yet so popular did his works become that, barring
the Scriptures, more copies and manuscripts of the books containing his
various "Magician Stories" have been handed down to posterity and exist
to-day than any works of his contemporaries. Still, Mandeville did not
mention this suspension trick, which is sometimes attributed to the
Chinese and sometimes to the Hindoos.
In Cologne, Germany, I purchased an encyclopædia, published in 1684,
from which I reproduce a double-page engraving, which shows the Chinese
magicians doing the tricks previously accredited, in the stories of
travellers, to Hindoo conjurers.
In "Lives of the Conjurers," Thomas Frost describes the suspension trick
as offered about 1828 or 1829 at Madras by an old Brahmin with no better
apparatus than a piece of plank with four legs. This he had formed into
a stool, and upon it, in a little brass socket, he placed a hollow
bamboo stick in a perpendicular position. Projecting from the stick was
a kind of crutch, covered with a piece of common hide. These properties
he carried with him in a bag, which was shown to all those who desired
to witness his exhibition. The servants of the household then held a
blanket before him, and, when it was withdrawn, he was discovered poised
in midair about four feet from the ground, in a sitting posture, with
the outer edge of one hand merely touching the crutch, while the fingers
deliberately counted beads, and the other hand and arm were held in an
upright position. The blanket was again held up before him, and the
spectators caught a gurgling sound, like that occasioned by wind
escaping from a bladder or tube. When the screen or blanket was again
withdrawn, the conjurer was standing on the ground.
[Illustration: The Brahmin suspension as shown in an illustration found
in Robin's l'Almanach de Cagliostro.]
The mystery was supposed to have been solved when Sheshal, commonly
known as "the Brahmin of the Air," exhibited the trick in 1832 in
Madras. It was observed that his stool was ornamented with two inlaid
stars, and it was suggested that one of these might conceal a socket for
a steel rod, passing through the bamboo, and that another rod, screwed
to the perpendicular one and concealed by the piece of hide, might be
connected with a mechanism of the same metal, passing up the sleeve and
down the back, and forming a circular seat. This conjecture probably was
not far from the truth, for while Frost is by no means the greatest of
authorities on magic and magicians, in this particular instance I
believe that his explanation of the trick is correct.
The next authentic early information I have gathered regarding
suspension concerns that wonderful performer who called himself Ching
Lau Lauro. Presumably he was a Chinaman, and from the programmes in my
collection he evidently appeared first in England, in 1828, when he was
engaged to perform between scenes of various plays, including "Tom and
Jerry," at the Coburg. I reproduce on page 231 one of Ching Lau Lauro's
programmes.
About 1833, or possibly a year earlier, he cut out some of his singing,
and introduced the suspension with which he closed his performance. At
this time he gave the entire programme. According to his programmes, in
some places he excluded the public from the gallery, so I judge that his
suspension was accomplished by the use of the iron rod from the back,
which would have been in plain sight from the gallery. The stage would
not permit the suspension to be worked out of range of the gallery gods.
[Illustration: Ching Lau Lauro handbill featuring suspension in 1832.
From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
[Illustration: A Compars Herrmann programme of 1848 in which suspension
is featured. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
When Robert-Houdin went to London in 1848 he found in the field of
magic a clever rival, Compars Herrmann; a few months later came John
Henry Anderson, the Wizard of the North. Both of these men presented the
suspension trick in precisely the same manner claimed by Robert-Houdin
as his original invention of 1847. Neither Anderson nor Herrmann claimed
the honor of having invented the trick, and it is more than likely that
the mechanician who made their apparatus for the suspension trick made
the one used by Robert-Houdin also. Herrmann, like Robert-Houdin, called
the trick ethereal suspension. Anderson gave it the title of
"Chloriforeene Suspension," as the reproduction of an Anderson
lithograph on page 234 will prove.
During precisely the same period of time a brilliantly successful German
conjurer, Alexander, was presenting the same trick in America, where he
remained as a professional entertainer for ten years. In my collection,
together with corroborative handbills and programmes, there will be
found this statement from Alexander:
"The suspension was at first produced by me in 1845 or 1846, after
reading in an Oriental annual, edited by several officers of the Indian
Army, the trick of a fakir who made a companion sit in the air by using
a bamboo stick. My trick had no success, because the sitting was too
near the ground. I then made him stand in the air, and the effect was
marvellous."
My meeting with Alexander, of which this correspondence was the result,
marked an era in my search for material for this volume. Having read in
a small book on magic, dated 1896, that a man named Heimburger, who had
travelled in America as "Alexander the Conjurer," was living in his
native town of Münster, in Westphalia, I determined to secure an
interview with him if possible.
[Illustration: "Suspension Chloriforeene," as presented by Anderson and
his son, from a lithograph used by him on his return from the Continent,
December, 1848. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
On March 17th, 1903, while playing in Cologne, I boarded an express
train and arrived in Münster bright and early. From the city directory I
learned that one Heimburger resided in Krumpentippen, 16. Hailing a
passing droschke I was soon carried to my destination, where a
bright-faced German girl opened the door and ushered me, without
formality, into the presence of the man to whom I desired to pay my
respects.
An old man, bent with years, snow-white of beard and gray of head, came
forward slowly to greet me. Finding that he was quite deaf, I raised my
voice and fairly trumpeted my mission, adding that I felt especially
honored to stand in the presence of the only magician who, up to that
date, had ever appeared at the White House, Washington, by request of
the President of the United States, my native land. Alexander had been
asked to entertain President Polk and his guests on several occasions,
and the fact that I knew this seemed to please the old conjurer and pave
the way to a pleasant and profitable interview.
In a few moments we were sitting side by side, and he was adding to my
store of information by relating the most fascinating experiences,
stories of fellow-magicians long since dead, and tales which he could
corroborate by his own collection of bills, programmes, etc., his diary,
and his personal correspondence. He had known Robert-Houdin, Frikell,
Bosco, Count Pererilli, John Henry Anderson, Blitz, the original Bamberg
of Amsterdam, Compars Herrmann, and many lesser lights among the
old-time magicians. Robert-Houdin had told him personally that being
pressed for time he had entrusted the writing of his "Memoirs" to a
Parisian journalist.
[Illustration: Mrs. Leona A. Anderson, daughter-in-law of John Henry
Anderson, as she appeared with him in the suspension trick about 1868.
From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
As he warmed up to these reminiscences, he held me spellbound. Had he
risen from the grave to tell of his contemporaries, he could not have
riveted my attention more securely.
Here was a man of eighty-four, whose memory quickened at the coming of
one interested in his beloved art, whose eye brightened with each fresh
detail of a long and successful professional life, and who, in fifty
years of retirement, had not only written a book, but had kept in touch
with the world of magic, giving me information which the most exhaustive
encyclopædia could not yield, answering questions on topics never yet
discussed in dusty parchments and fading scripts. It was like having the
history of magic unrolled before my eager eyes, in a living,
palpitating, human scroll.
It had been my intention to remain but a few hours in Münster, but the
old master held me as if hypnotized and the hours fairly drifted past.
Letter after letter, clipping after clipping, token after token, he
spread before my fascinated eyes; and I allowed him to speak without
question or interruption of any sort. Early in our interview he had
remarked that he was beginning to feel old and that only the impetus of
my presence was responsible for his unusual strength of speech. For over
seventy years he had been collecting books on conjuring and kindred
topics, which he was able to read in English, French, Spanish, and
German.
The dinner hour found us still engrossed in conversation, and Frau
Heimburger extended a most hospitable and cordial invitation for me to
join the family circle. But my hunger was purely mental, and the true
savor of the meal was the reminiscent chat of Herr Heimburger, who, from
his post at the head of his household, looked as hale and hearty as if
he had found the Elixir of Life which so many of his charlatan
predecessors claimed to have "discovered."
[Illustration: Alexander Heimburger, a veteran conjurer who presented
the suspension trick in 1845-46 during his American tour. From a
photograph in the Harry Houdini Collection.]
In 1904 I paid the old master a second visit. To his professions of
pleasure at meeting me once more, he added the gift of several rare
programmes now in my collection, and when our hands met in a farewell
clasp he told me that he had set all things in order and was ready for
the coming of the Grim Reaper. Soon after that visit, however, I
received a card with the following melancholy message:
MY DEAR FRIEND--Have not been very well of late, and have been
expecting my last days. All preparations have been made and Death
the Visitor arrived, but instead of calling for me, he has taken
away my beloved wife. I am not capable of writing more. God be with
you. From your old friend,
ALEXANDER HEIMBURGER.
Alexander Heimburger or, as he was billed, Alexander the Conjurer, was
born December 4th, 1818. From 1844 to 1854 he toured North and South
America, returning to his native country with the intention of there
following his calling as a professional entertainer. But his fame had
preceded him, and, as his fortune was large, his souvenirs and tales of
travel many and interesting, he was taken up by the world of fashion and
lionized. This practically closed his career as a conjurer, for in those
days magicians occupied no such reputable position in the professional
world as they do to-day, and to have returned to his stage work would
have closed the doors of aristocracy to him. He married one of Münster's
prettiest girls, who bore him six children, two sons and four daughters.
So he passed the remainder of his days, living modestly but comfortably
on the money he had amassed in America, entertained by a large circle of
appreciative friends, and well content to live thus, far from the
madding crowd in which the professional entertainer must move.
While the recollections of his public career and his meetings with other
magicians, as well as notable men in other walks of life, were fresh, he
wrote his book, "Der Moderne Zauberer" (The Modern Magician), which he
claims, with much justice, is rated as one of the gems of German
literature, as well as the best book ever written by a conjurer. It is
built from extracts from his diary and is on the style of Sig. Blitz's
book, but is far more diversified and interesting.
[Illustration: Alexander Heimburger, known in conjuring as Alexander the
Conjurer, from a quaint illustration in "The North American," published
in Mexico.]
His scrap-book also told a most romantic tale of vicissitudes. A
half-page article in the New York _Tribune_, dated October, 1845, showed
Alexander arrayed in a Chinese costume, and producing huge bowls of
water, flowers, and various sorts of heavy articles. This proves
conclusively that Ching Ling Foo was not the first conjurer to offer
this Chinese trick in America, as it is generally supposed. Alexander
added that all the old-timers would change their programmes by
introducing the Chinese tricks, and, to verify his statement, readers
need only to see the following files in Astor Library, New York City:
New York _Herald_, New York _Tribune_, and New York _Evening Gazette_ of
November 6th, 1845.
Herr Alexander had arrived in New York almost penniless, after a
disastrous tour of other American cities. He tried to hire Niblo's
Garden, but was informed that the auditorium was never opened in winter.
Through the intercession of Mrs. Niblo, however, he finally secured it
at a rental of twenty dollars per night. He opened to a small house and
for three nights did not even pay expenses, but the fourth night
witnessed a change in his fortunes and for three months he played
literally to standing room. Then because he had no new tricks to offer,
and his pride forbade his presenting his old répertoire until receipts
grew lighter, he closed his New York season.
While playing in Saratoga, Alexander was approached by the late P. T.
Barnum, who was accompanied by Gen. Tom Thumb. Alexander declined Mr.
Barnum's offer because he thought to join the Barnum staff of
entertainers would injure his professional rating. Barnum's admission
fee was 25 cents, while Alexander charged 50 cents and $1.
About this time the fame of Alexander attracted the attention of no less
a personage than S. F. B. Morse, of telegraphic fame; and Alexander had
on his programme one trick which mystified Morse, who honestly believed
that the conjurer had discovered some new law of nature that might be of
service to scientists.
[Illustration: Alexander Heimburger presenting the suspension trick
during his engagement in Brazil. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Alexander called this trick "The Spirit Bell," and, worked by one method
or another, it has been used by many magicians. Some employ a thread and
hook, causing the clapper to strike by pulling the thread which runs
through an innocent-looking ribbon on which the bell hangs. Others use
an electric magnet. Herr Alexander placed his bell on top of a fancy
case which he could set anywhere, and the bell would ring at command.
The secret was a small bird, trained to jump from one rung of a tiny
ladder to another, at word of command or the waving of a stick or wand
which the bird could see from its point of imprisonment. Every time that
it jumped from one rung to another, it would pull down a step which was
so arranged that by the smallest overweight it would release a catch,
which in turn would throw the hammer against the glass. When the bird
stepped off, the hammer would again come back to its original position
and be ready for the second blow. This bird he bought from a street
fortune-teller, who had trained it to go up different steps of a ladder
and select envelopes containing variously printed fortunes.
Alexander enjoyed personal acquaintance with President Polk, Henry Clay,
Daniel Webster, Calhoun, and their fellow-statesmen in the United
States. Through his friendship with President Polk he carried to the
West Indies and Brazil letters so influential that the aristocracy in
these countries opened its doors to him. He was welcomed at the palace
of Dom Pedro, and has in his possession letters from both the King and
his consort, dated 1850.
So much for the history of a man who was brave enough to admit that he
developed the suspension trick from principles laid down by humble
Indian fakirs.
The crudest method used for accomplishing the suspension trick consisted
of a steel corset, an iron rod painted to resemble wood, and a platform.
The steel rod was fitted into a special place in the corset, also in
the platform. This method was improved, first to make it a self-raising
suspension, then eventually with a steel rod from the back of the stage,
eliminating the use of both rods under the arms.
Spectators and reviewers commented on the rigid, almost painful,
carriage of Robert-Houdin's son during the performance, which they laid
to the effect of ether. Unquestionably Robert-Houdin used this crude
corset-and-rod method of working the trick.
The fumes of ether which reached the audience, he admits, were caused by
pouring a little ether over hot irons in the wings.
But whatever the method employed by Robert-Houdin to secure the effects
of "suspension éthéréenne," he was merely introducing a century-old
trick, which other contemporary magicians were also exhibiting. The name
of the real maker of the apparatus may never be known, but some clever
mechanician supplied Robert-Houdin, Compars Herrmann, and John Henry
Anderson with precisely the same method of working the trick, at
precisely the same time. Robert-Houdin alone was audacious enough to
claim the invention as his own.
CHAPTER IX
THE DISAPPEARING HANDKERCHIEF
Supreme egotism and utter disregard for the truth may be traced in all
of Robert-Houdin's writings, but they reached a veritable climax when he
indited chapter XVI. of his "Memoirs." During the course of this chapter
he described the so-called invention and first production of the
disappearing-handkerchief trick.
According to the American edition of his "Memoirs," page 303, he
received a command to appear before Louis Philippe and his family at St.
Cloud in November, 1846. During the six days intervening between the
official invitation and his appearance before the royal family, he
arranged a trick from which, he states, he had every reason to expect
excellent results. On page 305 he goes even further in his claims and
announces:
"All my tricks were favorably received, and the one I had invented for
the occasion gained me unbounded applause."
He then gives the following description of the trick and its
performance:
"I borrowed from my noble spectators several handkerchiefs, which I made
into a parcel, and laid on the table. Then, at my request, different
persons wrote on the cards the names of places whither they desired
their handkerchiefs to be invisibly transported.
"When this had been done, I begged the King to take three of the cards
at hazard, and choose from them the place he might consider most
suitable.
"'Let us see,' Louis Philippe said, 'what this one says: "I desire the
handkerchiefs to be found beneath one of the candelabra on the
mantelpiece." That is too easy for a sorcerer; so we will pass to the
next card: "The handkerchiefs are to be transported to the dome of the
Invalides." That would suit me, but it is much too far, not for the
handkerchiefs, but for us. Ah, ah!' the King added, looking at the last
card, 'I am afraid, M. Robert-Houdin, I am about to embarrass you. Do
you know what this card proposes?'
"'Will your Majesty deign to inform me?'
"'It is desired that you should send the handkerchiefs into the chest of
the last orange-tree on the right of the avenue.'
"'Only that, Sire? Deign to order, and I shall obey.'
"'Very good, then; I should like to see such a magic act: I, therefore,
choose the orange-tree chest.'
"The King gave some orders in a low voice, and I directly saw several
persons run to the orange-tree, in order to watch it and prevent any
fraud.
"I was delighted at this precaution, which must add to the effect of my
experiment, for the trick was already arranged, and the precaution hence
too late.
"I had now to send the handkerchiefs on their travels, so I placed them
beneath a bell of opaque glass, and, taking my wand, I ordered my
invisible travellers to proceed to the spot the King had chosen.
"I raised the bell; the little parcel was no longer there, and a white
turtle-dove had taken its place.
"The King then walked quickly to the door, whence he looked in the
direction of the orange-tree, to assure himself that the guards were at
their post; when this was done, he began to smile and shrug his
shoulders.
"'Ah! M. Robert-Houdin,' he said, somewhat ironically, 'I much fear for
the virtue of your magic staff.' Then he added, as he returned to the
end of the room, where several servants were standing, 'Tell William to
open immediately the last chest at the end of the avenue, and bring me
carefully what he finds there--if he does find anything.'
"William soon proceeded to the orange-tree, and, though much astonished
at the orders given him, he began to carry them out.
"He carefully removed one of the sides of the chest, thrust his hand in,
and almost touched the roots of the tree before he found anything. All
at once he uttered a cry of surprise as he drew out a small iron coffer
eaten by the rust.
"This curious find, after having been cleaned from the mould, was
brought in and placed on a small ottoman by the King's side.
"'Well, M. Robert-Houdin,' Louis Philippe said to me, with a movement of
impatient curiosity, 'here is a box; am I to conclude it contains the
handkerchiefs?'
"'Yes, Sire,' I replied with assurance, 'and they have been there, too,
for a long period.'
"'How can that be? The handkerchiefs were lent you scarce a quarter of
an hour ago.'
"'I cannot deny it, Sire; but what would my magic powers avail me if I
could not perform incomprehensible tricks? Your Majesty will doubtless
be still more surprised when I prove to your satisfaction that this
coffer as well as its contents was deposited in the chest of the
orange-tree sixty years ago.'
[Illustration: Reproduction of a very rare pastel portrait of
Cagliostro. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
"'I should like to believe your statement,' the King replied with a
smile; 'but that is impossible, and I must, therefore, ask for proofs of
your assertion.'
"'If your Majesty will be kind enough to open this casket they will be
supplied.'
"'Certainly; but I shall require a key for that.'
"'It only depends on yourself, Sire, to have one. Deign to remove it
from the neck of this turtle dove, which has just brought it to you.'
"Louis Philippe unfastened a ribbon that held a small rusty key with
which he hastened to unlock the coffer. The first thing that caught the
King's eye was a parchment, on which he read the following statements:
"'This day, the sixth of June, 1786, this iron box, containing six
handkerchiefs, was placed among the roots of an orange tree by me,
Balsamo, Count of Cagliostro, to serve in performing an act of magic
which will be executed on the same day sixty years hence before Louis
Philippe of Orléans and his family.'
"'There is, decidedly, witchcraft about this,' the King said, more and
more amazed. 'Nothing is wanting, for the seal and signature of the
celebrated sorcerer are placed at the foot of this statement, which,
Heaven pardon me, smells strongly of sulphur.'
"At this jest the audience began to laugh.
"'But,' the King added, taking out of the box a carefully sealed packet,
'can the handkerchiefs, by possibility, be in this?'
"'Indeed, Sire, they are; but, before opening the parcel, I would
request your Majesty to notice that it, also, bears the impression of
Cagliostro's seal.'
"This seal, once rendered so famous by being placed on the celebrated
alchemist's bottles of elixir and liquid gold, I had obtained from
Torrini, who had been an old friend of Cagliostro's.
"'It is certainly the same,' my royal spectator answered, after
comparing the two seals. Still, in his impatience to learn the contents
of the parcel, the King quickly tore open the envelope, and soon
displayed before the astonished spectators the six handkerchiefs, which,
a few moments before, were still on my table."
While the use of the Cagliostro seal really formed no part of the trick,
its possession by Robert-Houdin goes to show how indefatigably he
collected conjuring curios and how quick he was to utilize any part of
his collection, and score thereby a brilliant showing.
Cagliostro seals were by no means rare. This prince of charlatans had
seals, like adventures, in great variety; and in this connection, it is
not out of place to tell something of Cagliostro and thus explain why
the parchment bearing his seal created such a sensation at St. Cloud.
Cagliostro has no match in the annals of magic. Not a conjurer in the
sense of being a public entertainer, he yet mystified and bewitched his
thousands. Something of a physician, more of an alchemist, and
altogether a charlatan, he left behind him a trail of brilliant
chicanery, daring adventure, and ignominious failure and undoing
unequalled in the history of Europe.
[Illustration: Reproduction of a rare portrait of Seraphinia Feliciani,
Comtesse de Cagliostro, wrongfully called Lorenzo in the Encyclopædia
Britannica. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Cagliostro was born Joseph Balsamo, in Palermo, Italy, June 8th, 1743.
His parents were in humble circumstances and he started his career as a
novice in the Convent of Benfratelli, from which he was expelled for
incorrigibility. Then he plunged into a life of dissipation and
cleverly planned, ofttimes brilliantly executed crimes. He fled Palermo
after forging theatre tickets and a will, and duping a goldsmith out of
sixty pieces of gold. At Messina he fell in with an alchemist named
Althotas, a man of some learning who spoke a variety of languages.
These two adventurers travelled in Egypt, and when Althotas died
Cagliostro went to Naples and Rome, where he married a beautiful
girdle-maker named Seraphinia Feliciani. This woman shared both his
triumphs and his disgrace. In 1776 they arrived in London, where he
announced himself as the Count di Cagliostro. The title was assumed, the
name was borrowed from his mother's side of the house. Here for the
first time Cagliostro announced himself also a worker of miracles or
wonders.
He exhibited two mysterious substances, "Materia Prima," with which he
transmuted all baser metals into gold, and "Egyptian Wine," with which
he claimed to prolong life. His wife, who was just past twenty, he
declared was more than sixty, her youthful appearance being due to the
use of his elixir. He founded a spurious Egyptian rite in connection
with the Masonic order which has been recognized as a blot upon Masonic
history, and he claimed thousands of Masonic dupes. All over the
Continent he and his beautiful wife travelled, now healing the poor for
nothing, now duping the rich, but always living in a most picturesque,
voluptuous fashion. He dipped into spiritualism and mesmerism, but
wherever he went his converts followed after.
[Illustration: Very rare Testot handbill printed about 1800, presented
by Testot to Henry Evanion. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
In 1789, while in Rome, he was seized by that invincible power, the Holy
Inquisition, and was condemned to death. Later Pope Pius VI. changed the
sentence to life imprisonment. Confinement made him more daring than
ever. He asked for a confessor, and when a Capuchin monk was permitted
to enter his cell in this capacity Cagliostro endeavored to choke him
and escape in his robes. The monk fought for his life so effectually
that it was he, and not Cagliostro, who escaped. Cagliostro was
literally buried alive in a subterranean dungeon, as punishment for his
final offence, and his wife immured herself in a Roman convent, where
she died in 1794.
[Illustration: Testot programme, featuring "Cabalistic Art" in 1826.
From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
In Paris, perhaps, Cagliostro enjoyed his greatest triumphs of
charlatanism, and it is not remarkable that the appearance of his seal
in the midst of Robert-Houdin's trick should seem almost uncanny to the
royal family.
But to return to the disappearing-handkerchief trick. Robert-Houdin did
not invent this trick. It was presented by a number of conjurers before
Robert-Houdin was known in the world of magic. Robert-Houdin simply
employed the trick familiar to both his predecessors and contemporaries
and redressed it to tickle the fancy of his royal patron.
In England this trick was known among old conjurers as "The Ne Plus
Ultra of the Cabalistic Art." In 1826 one M. Félix Testot, who claimed
to be a compatriot of Robert-Houdin, presented the trick in the British
provinces, and one of his bills I am reproducing because it shows that
the trick he offered the provincial Britons and the trick which
Robert-Houdin offered the royal family at St. Cloud were identical. It
also proves that London had seen the trick; and what London had seen,
Paris, including Robert-Houdin, had heard of.
[Illustration: Marriot programme featuring "Cabalistic Art" in 1831, or
fifteen years before Robert-Houdin claims to have invented the
disappearing handkerchief trick. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
A programme used by "The Celebrated Mr. Marriot, Professor of Recreative
Philosophy," in 1831, contains word for word the announcement of the
trick used on Testot's bill, which goes to show that a popular test was
to have articles passed from the Adelphia Theatre to the gun which was
being watched by a sentinel.
[Illustration: Jefferini handbill, dated 1833, in which he announces
that any article will be made to fly 500 miles a minute.]
February 22d, 1833, found a Mr. Jefferini at the Royal Clarence Theatre,
Liverpool Street, King's Cross, Liverpool. He agreed to make "an article
fly at the rate of five hundred miles an hour, from King's Cross to the
Centre of Greece."
The original Buck featured on his programme a similar trick which he
called "The Loaf Trick." On a bill dated October 26th, 1840, it is
announced as follows: "Watch in a loaf. The magician will command any
gentleman's watch to disappear. It will be found in a loaf at any
baker's shop in Town." The senior Ingleby changed the trick somewhat,
sending out to any market for a shoulder of mutton, which, on being
cut, would yield up a card previously drawn by some spectator. He thus
describes his trick in his book "Whole Art of Legerdemain," published in
London in 1815:
"TRICK FOUR.
"To cut out of a Shoulder of Mutton a Card which one of the Company had
previously drawn out of the Pack.
[Illustration: Only known portrait of the clever English conjurer, Buck.
From an engraving in the Harry Houdini Collection.]
"Having desired a person to draw a Card out of several which you hold to
him, and to remember it, which he promises to do, you tell him it shall
be in a shoulder of mutton which you will send for.
"Accordingly you desire a servant to go to the butcher's and bring one.
When brought, it is examined, and then ordered to be put down to roast.
After performing some tricks, you recollect the shoulder of mutton,
which is immediately brought half-roasted, and after cutting it for some
time you at length find the card, and produce it.
[Illustration: Ingleby handbill, dated 1808. From the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
"Explanation:
"Having forced a card on one of the company, your confederate has an
opportunity, when the mutton is sent to be roasted, of conveying a thin
duplicate of that card folded into a narrow compass into the fleshy part
near the shank, which can be easily done by means of a sharp penknife.
"This trick, though remarkably simple, has created universal
astonishment at the Minor Theatre, where it was frequently exhibited by
Mr. Ingleby."
[Illustration: Frontispiece from Ingleby's book, "Whole Art of
Legerdemain," said to be an excellent likeness of the conjurer-author.
From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
The method of performing the trick was so familiar to conjurers of
Robert-Houdin's time and earlier that Henry Evans Evanion was able to
describe it to me from actual witnessings. Acting on his explanation, on
my return to America I offered the trick, without any great amount of
preparation and without a hitch, at a matinée entertainment given by a
secret organization. I will describe precisely how this was done, and
allow my readers to judge of the similarity of the trick offered years
ago by humble travelling magicians whose names have been written most
faintly in the annals of conjuring, and the much-vaunted trick
"invented" by Robert-Houdin for the entertainment of his sovereign.
The hall in which the matinée was given was located in Harlem, Borough
of Manhattan, New York City, and I had decided that the handkerchiefs
which were to make the flying journey should be "desired" by some one
present to appear under the top step of the winding staircase in the
Statue of Liberty, which is located in New York Harbor. This meant a
half-hour ride from the hall to the boat in a Subway train; then a run
across New York Harbor to the Statue. These boats left the dock on the
hour and the half-hour, so I timed my performance to fill just half an
hour, starting with some sleight-of-hand, the egg-bag trick, and
swallowing a package of needles and bringing them up threaded, which
latter trick was introduced into magical performances in Europe by K. K.
Kraus in 1816.
[Illustration: Reproduction of a rare Buck handbill, dated 1844. From
the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Just before 3:30 o'clock I borrowed three handkerchiefs and tied them
together for easier handling. I had three handkerchiefs, similarly tied
together, under my vest, and just at 3:30, I switched the two sets of
handkerchiefs, so that the handkerchiefs furnished by the spectators
were under my vest and the bogus handkerchiefs in my hand. First I
dropped the bogus handkerchiefs on the table-trap, picking up the opaque
glass cover with which they were to be hidden, and, by a carefully
rehearsed bit of carelessness, dropped and broke it. Then, leaving the
bogus handkerchiefs on the table trap, I stepped toward the wings,
apparently to secure another glass bell or cover. To all intents and
purposes, I did not pass from the view of the audience, for fully half
of my body was on the stage, but as my assistant handed me a new glass
cover, he deftly extracted the real handkerchiefs from under my vest.
Then, while I returned to the stage with my patter and description of
the flight the handkerchiefs were about to make, my assistant, with the
handkerchiefs in his pocket, walked unnoticed from the door, and, once
out of sight, ran madly to the Subway station. There he boarded an
express and reached the boat landing just in time to catch the 4 o'clock
boat. At the Statue, my brother and a tinsmith were waiting for him.
The handkerchiefs were placed in the tin box, securely soldered, and
then this box was placed inside a second iron box, which was locked. The
"plant" was then taken upstairs and hidden under the top step.
In the mean time, with my thoughts following my assistant every step of
his trip, I was playing out my end of the game. The audience was
supplied with blank cards on which they might write the name of the
place where the handkerchiefs should reappear. This, of course, took
some time, and when the cards, each folded to hide the writing thereon,
were collected in a hat, I shook them up thoroughly, and then turned
them out upon a plate, deftly adding, on the top, three cards which I
had concealed in my hand. This was sleight-of-hand purely, and I next
picked out those three prepared cards on each of which was written "Can
you send the handkerchiefs under the top step of the Statue of Liberty?"
Explaining that I had in my hand three cards chosen at haphazard, I
wished the final choice to be made by a disinterested party. A baby was
finally chosen to select the card. Naturally, I refused even to take the
slip of paper from the baby's hand, and one of the lodge members read
the question.
Murmurs of surprise and incredulity echoed from all over the hall. The
test was too difficult! I then announced that if the audience would
select its own committee, making sure to pick out men who could not be
bribed, I would accompany them, and we would surely return with the
handkerchiefs, sealed in double boxes, as found under the famous
stairway. As an elaborate course luncheon was to be served, the
committee had time to act, and away we went, leaving the lodge to its
feast. So much time had been lost in selecting the committee that we
reached the wharf just in time to catch the 5 o'clock boat. On landing I
received a prearranged signal from my assistants that all was well, and
as I watched my committee dash up the stairs I knew that their quest
would be rewarded.
When the committee and the writer returned to the lodge-room, a mechanic
was required to pry open the box. There lay the identical handkerchiefs
furnished by my spectators, who could hardly believe their eyes.
On other occasions I have asked my audience to select a spokesman, who
in a loud voice would announce the point at which the handkerchiefs
would be found, and then my man, waiting just outside the door, would
mount his bicycle and pedal like mad for the hiding-place, naturally
outstripping any committee appointed. But the first method, that of
selecting the place beforehand and having all arrangements made, even to
the three prepared cards, is safest and is probably the one used by
Robert-Houdin to deceive the French monarch. I doubt if he even had
three different cards prepared, as he claims. I believe he exaggerated
his feat, for that would have been taking long chances.
For this trick I claim not an iota of originality. I simply fitted it to
the time, the place, and the audience, and that I believe is all
Robert-Houdin did when he "invented" the disappearing handkerchief trick
for the amusement of his sovereign.
CHAPTER X
ROBERT-HOUDIN'S IGNORANCE OF MAGIC AS BETRAYED BY HIS OWN PEN
Statements in Robert-Houdin's various works on the conjurer's art
corroborate my claim that he was not a master-magician, but a clever
purloiner and adapter of the tricks invented and used by his
predecessors and contemporaries. Whenever, in these books, he attempts
to explain or expose a trick which was not part of his répertoire, he
betrays an ignorance which would be impossible in a conjurer versed in
the finer and more subtle branches of his art. Neither do these
explanations show that he was clever enough as a mechanic to have
invented the apparatus which he claimed as his handiwork. He states that
practice and still more practice are essential, yet no intelligent
performer, amateur or professional, can study my collection of
Robert-Houdin programmes, handbills, and press notices without realizing
that his répertoire contained little or no trace of what should be the
foundation of successful conjuring, sleight-of-hand. Changing his
fingers over the various air-holes of the inexhaustible bottle was as
near as he ever came to sleight-of-hand, even when he was in the height
of his success.
According to the press notices he had a pleasing stage presence, and
also dressed and set forth his tricks richly, but it must be borne in
mind that then, as often to-day, the man sent by an editor to criticise
a conjurer's performance knew little or nothing about the art and could
not institute comparisons between different magicians. To-day
Robert-Houdin would shine as an exhibitor of illusions or mechanical
toys. A pistol shot, a puff of smoke--and his confederate or assistant
has done the real work behind the scenes.
His lack of finesse as a sleight-of-hand performer is nowhere more
clearly shown than in his own writings. On page 37 of his French exposé
of the secrets of magic, entitled "Comment on Devient Sorcier" (page 51
of the English translation by Professor Hoffmann, "The Secrets of
Conjuring and Magic"), he thus naïvely describes his masterpiece of
coin-palming:
"I myself practised palming long and perseveringly, and acquired thereat
a very considerable degree of skill. I used to be able to palm two
five-franc pieces at once, the hand, nevertheless, remaining as freely
open as though it held nothing whatever."
An amateur of his own day would have blushed to admit that he could palm
but two coins. Men like T. Nelson Downs, "The Koin King," think nothing
of palming twenty five-franc or silver dollars, or forty half-dollars,
and even this record has been broken.
Even two writers who contributed to the translation and editing of his
works, R. Shelton Mackenzie and Professor Hoffmann (Angelo J. Lewis),
and who have drawn rich royalties for the same, apologize for his
flagrant mis-statements, which, they realize, any man or woman with but
a slight knowledge of conjuring must recognize.
His first contribution to the history of magic was his "Memoirs"; and
while he does not feature exposures of tricks in this work, he offers,
in passing, explanations of tricks and automata presented by other
magicians. For the most part these explanations are obviously incorrect,
and so prove that he was ignorant of certain fundamental principles of
the art in which he claimed to have shone.
In the introduction of the American edition, published in 1850, Mr.
Mackenzie, the editor, thus apologizes for one of Robert-Houdin's most
flagrant mistakes in tracing the history of magic:
"One error which M. Houdin makes must not be passed over. His account of
M. de Kempelen's celebrated automaton chess-player (afterward Maëlzel's)
is entirely wrong. This remarkable piece of mechanism was constructed in
1769, and not in 1796; it was the Empress Maria-Theresa of Austria who
played with it, and not Catherine II. of Russia; it was in 1783 that it
first visited Paris, where it played at the Café de la Regence; it was
not taken to London until 1784, and again in 1819; it was brought to
America in 1825, by M. Maëlzel, and visited our principal cities, its
chief resting-place being Philadelphia; M. Maëlzel's death was in 1838,
on the voyage from Cuba to the United States, and not, as M. Houdin
says, on his return to France; and the automaton, so far from being
taken back to France, was sold by auction here, finally purchased by the
late Dr. J. K. Mitchell, of Philadelphia, reconstructed by him, and
finally deposited in the Chinese Museum (formerly Peale's), where it was
consumed in the great fire which destroyed the National Theatre (now the
site of the Continental Hotel, corner of Ninth and Chestnut Streets),
and, extending to the Chinese Museum, burnt it down on July 5th, 1854.
An interesting account of the Automaton Chess-Player, written by Prof.
George Allen, of this city, will be found in 'The Book of the First
American Chess Congress,' recently published in New York."
Signor Blitz, in his book "Fifty Years in the Magic Circle,"
corroborates the Mackenzie correction, by telling how he saw Maëlzel in
Havana, Cuba, where the famous German met his professional Waterloo,
first in small audiences, then in the death of his faithful confederate,
Schlomberg. Finally, broken in health and spirit, Maëlzel sailed from
Havana for Philadelphia, but death overtook him at sea. His body was
consigned to the ocean's depths, and his few effects were sold to
liquidate the cost of passage and other debts.
That Robert-Houdin should make an error concerning a world-famous
automaton the history of which could be traced through contemporary
periodicals and libraries, is almost inconceivable and proves the
carelessness with which he gathered and presented facts.
His inability to grasp the principles on which other performers built
their tricks is shown most clearly when he attempts to describe and
explain the performances of the Arabian mountebanks whom he saw during
his stay in Algiers. These tricks have been handed down from one
generation to another, and now that Arabian conjurers and acrobats are
imported for hippodrome and vaudeville performances in all civilized
countries, the tricks described by Robert-Houdin are familiar to the
general public. They are also copied by performers of other
nationalities, and can be seen in circus side-shows and at fairs, as
well as in the better grade of houses. Having worked on the same bill
with genuine Arabian performers, I know just how the tricks are
accomplished.
Robert-Houdin undertakes to explain these tricks in chapter XXII. of the
American edition of his "Memoirs." So long as he quotes reliable
authorities like the _Journal des Sciences_, the explanations are
correct. Directly he attempts an independent exposure, he strikes far
from the correct explanation.
On page 424 he states:
"In the following experiment, two Arabs held a sabre, one by the hilt,
the other by the point; a third then came forward, and after raising his
clothes so as to leave the abdomen quite bare, laid himself flat on the
edge of the blade, while a fourth mounted on his back, and seemed to
press the whole weight of his body on him.
"This trick may be easily explained.
"Nothing proves to the audience that the sabre is really sharpened, or
that the edge is more cutting than the back, although the Arab who holds
it by the point is careful to wrap it up in a handkerchief--in this,
imitating the jugglers who pretend they have cut their fingers with one
of the daggers they use in their tricks.
"Besides, in performing this trick, the invulnerable turned his back on
the audience. He knew the advantage to be derived from this
circumstance; hence, at the moment when about to lay himself on the
sabre, he very adroitly pulled back over his stomach that portion of his
clothing he had raised. Lastly, when the fourth actor mounted on his
back, he rested his hands on the shoulders of the Arabs who held the
sabre. The latter apparently maintained his balance, but, in reality,
they supported the whole weight of his body. Hence, the only requirement
for this trick is to have the stomach more or less pressed in, and I
will explain presently that this can be effected without any danger or
injury."
[Illustration: A Rannin lithograph, showing him doing the sword-walking
act which Robert-Houdin claimed to have been a fraud. Rannin is still
working in Germany, imitated by many, equalled by none. From a
photograph in the Harry Houdini Collection.]
In this explanation Robert-Houdin is entirely wrong. The real secret of
lying on top of a sharp-edged razor, sword, or sabre rests on the fact
that the performer does actually lie upon it in a perfectly motionless
position. Were he to move but the width of a hair, backward or forward
or sidewise, the weapon would slice his body, resulting in instant death
or horrible mutilation. I have watched cheap performers of this class of
work, in dime museums or fairs, walk up a ladder of sharp swords which I
had previously held in my hand. They would place the foot down with
infinite precision and then press it into place. This position will not
result in cutting, but let the performer slip or slide and the flesh
would be cut instantly. I have also seen an acrobat, working in a
circus, select two razors in first-class condition, place them on a
socket with the edges of the razors uppermost, and with his bare hands
he would do what is known as a hand-stand on the keen edges of the
blades. This trick of absolute balance is acquired by persistent
practice from youth up.
Again Robert-Houdin errs wofully in comparing the sabre-swallower to the
swallower of broken bottle-heels and stones. Sabre-swallowing is one
trick, swallowing pebbles and broken glass belongs in quite a different
class. And when I say this I do not mean powdered glass, but pieces of
glass first broken, then chewed, and finally swallowed.
On page 426 Robert-Houdin puts the two tricks in the same class, as
follows:
"When the trick of swallowing bottle-heels and pebbles was to be done,
the Aïssaoua really put them in his mouth, but I believe, I may say
certainly, that he removed them at the moment when he placed his head in
the folds of the Mokadem's burnous. However, had he swallowed them,
there would have been nothing wonderful about this, when we compare it
with what was done some thirty years back in France by a mountebank
called 'the Sabre-Swallower.'
"This man, who performed in the streets, threw back his head so as to
form a straight line with his throat, and really thrust down his gullet
a sabre, of which only the hilt remained outside his mouth.
"He also swallowed an egg without cracking it, or even nails and
pebbles, which he caused to resound, by striking his stomach with his
fist.
"These tricks were the result of a peculiar formation in the
mountebank's throat, but, if he had lived among the Aïssaoua, he would
have assuredly been the leading man of the company."
The sabre-swallower never releases his hold on the weapon. The pebble
and bottle-heel swallower does--but brings them up again, by a system of
retching which results from long practice. The Japanese have an
egg-swallowing trick in which they swallow either small-sized ivory
balls or eggs, and reproduce them by a retching so unnoticeable that
they could easily show the mouth empty.
This trick dates back to the offerings of that celebrated water-spouter,
Blaise Manfrede, or de Manfre, who travelled all over Europe. This man
could swallow huge quantities of water and then eject it in streams or
in small quantities or fill all sorts of glasses. In fact this one trick
made him famous. _The European Magazine_, London, March, 1765, pages
194-5, gives a most diverting description of his trick, taken from an
old letter, and here quoted:
"I have seen, at the September fair in Francfort, a man who professed
drinking fifty quarts of water in a day, and indeed proved that he was
capable of executing what he pretended to. I saw him perform frequently,
and remember it as well as if it was but yesterday. He said he was an
Italian; he was short and squat, his chest, face, forehead, eyes, and
mouth very large. He pretended to be fifty years old, though he did not
seem forty.
[Illustration: Blasius de Manfre or Blaise Manfrede, from a rare old
woodcut in the Harry Houdini Collection.]
"He was called the famous Blaise Manfrede, a native of Malta. At
Francfort he frequently performed three times a day: for, besides his
performances twice a day on the public stage (which nobody approached
without paying), he attended private houses when called upon by great
people.
"He called for a large bucket of fair warm water, and twenty little
glass bottles, flat like cupping glasses, so that they could stand
topside turvy. Some of these he filled with water, plunging them into
the bucket with a good deal of ceremony, and usually swallowed two or
three to wash his mouth and gargle his throat. He threw up the water
again immediately, to shew the spectators that he had no drugs between
his teeth, whence he could be suspected to derive any advantage.
"After this plausible prelude, he made an Italian harangue, which I
cannot acquaint you with the merits of, because I am a stranger to the
language.... After his harangue he usually took off two dozen of his
little bottles, which he filled from the bucket, and a moment afterwards
returned the liquor through his mouth. But what is most extraordinary is
that this water, which he threw out with violence, appeared red like
wine. And when he had discharged it into two different bottles, it was
red in one and russet like beer in the other; as soon as he shifted the
bottles to the contrary sides, they changed their complexion
respectively to that of wine or beer, and so successively so long as he
continued vomiting; in the mean time, I observed that the water grew
less discolored in proportion as he continued to discharge. This was the
first act. Then he ranged his two dozen of bottles opposite to him on a
table, and exposed to everybody's view. Then he took an equal number of
bottles, plunged them anew into the bucket, swallowed them too, and
returned them in water very transparent, rose-water,
orange-flower-water, and brandy.
"I have smelt the several odours of his liquors; nay, I have seen him
set fire to a handkerchief dipt in that which smelt like brandy, and it
burnt blue like spirituous liquors.... Nay, he frequently promised at
Venice to give the water back again in milk and oil. But I think he did
not keep his word. In short, he concluded this scene with swallowing
successfully thirty or forty glasses of water, always from the same
bucket, and after having given notice to the company by his man (who
served as an interpreter) that he was going to disembogue, he threw his
head back, and spouting out the fair water, he made it spring up with an
impetuosity like that of the strongest _jet d'eau_. This last feat
delighted the people infinitely more than all the rest, and during the
month he was at Francfort numbers from all parts came to see this
slovenly exercise. Though he repeated it more than once a day he had
more than four hundred spectators at a time. Some threw their
handkerchiefs, and some their gloves upon the stage, that he might wet
them with the water he had cast up, and he returned them differently
perfumed, sometimes with rose-water, sometimes with orange-flower-water,
and sometimes with brandy."
Another famous juggler and water-spouter was Floram Marchand, whose
picture is herewith reproduced. Judging from his dress, he antedated
Manfrede.
Bell's _Messenger_ of July 16th, 1816, tells of a sword-swallower whose
work is extremely pertinent to this discussion, and the clipping is
quoted verbatim:
[Illustration: Floram Marchand. From an old, undated English publication
in the Harry Houdini Collection.]
"The French papers give a curious account of one James de Falaise, a
Norman, about fifty years of age, living in the Rue St. Honoré. It is
said that this extraordinary man will swallow whole walnuts, shell and
all, a tobacco pipe, three cards rolled together, a rose with all its
leaves, long stalk, and thorns, a living bird, and a living mouse, and,
lastly, a live eel. Like to the Indian jugglers, he swallows the blade
of a sabre about thirteen inches long of polished steel. This operation
he performs very slowly, and with some precaution; though he evinces no
symptom of pain. After every solid body that he swallows, he always
takes a small dose of wine expressly prepared for him. He does not seem
to make any effort to kill the living animals that he takes in his
mouth, but boasts that he feels them moving in his stomach."
[Illustration: Position taken by the subject in the Indian basket trick
before he is covered by the sheet.]
In my collection is the handbill of a stone-swallower who exhibited at
No. 10 Cockspur Street, London, charging an admission fee of
half-a-crown.
[Illustration: Indian fakir seated in the basket after the subject has
been "vanished."]
These performers actually swallowed the water, stones, pebbles, etc.,
and retched them up again so cleverly and at such carefully selected
instants that the audience did not know that the disgorging had been
accomplished.
Swallowing glass was a different matter, and the modern human ostriches
have all wound up at city hospitals where surgeons have removed broken
glass, knife blades, and other foreign matter by means of an operation.
I quote the above instances simply to prove that the stones were
actually swallowed and then disgorged, and not hidden, as Robert-Houdin
claims, in the folds of the Mokadem's burnous.
In this one chapter alone Robert-Houdin quotes six authorities in
explaining the tricks he witnessed, which fact only strengthens my
belief that he borrowed his tricks, as well as his explanations, from
able and graphic writers on the art of magic.
The next work descriptive of the conjurer's art offered by Robert-Houdin
was "Les Secrets de la Prestidigitation et de la Magie." Under the title
of "The Secrets of Conjuring and Magic; or, How to Become a Wizard," it
was translated and edited by Professor Hoffmann and published in 1878 by
George Routledge & Co., London and New York.
Absolutely no originality is displayed in this book, and the majority of
the tricks explained can be found in French books of a similar character
which appeared before Robert-Houdin turned author. The proof of this
statement can be found by reading any of the following works upon which
Robert-Houdin patently drew for his material:
"Nouvelle Magie Blanche Dévoilée et Cours Complet de Prestidigitation,"
in two volumes, by J. N. Ponsin, published in Paris in 1853; "Grande
Initiation au vraie Pratique des Célèbres Physiciens-Prestidigitateurs,"
Paris, 1855; "Nouveau Manuel Complet Sorciers, les scènes de
Ventriloquie exécutées et communiquées par M. Conte, Physicien du Roi,"
Paris, 1837; "Anciens et Nouvaux Tours d'Escamotage," of which there are
innumerable editions; "Le Manuel des Sorciers. Recréations Physiques,
Mathématiques, Tours de Cartes et de Gibecière; suivre, des Jeux de
Société," Paris, 1802.
[Illustration: Position of the "vanished" Hindoo while concealed in the
basket. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
His third work, "Magie et Physique Amusante," translated by Professor
Hoffmann under the title of "The Secrets of Stage Conjuring," and
published in English in 1881, is marred by an almost continuous strain
of mis-statements, incorrect explanations, and downright falsification.
On page 17 of the American edition Robert-Houdin starts his dramatic
tale of inventing a detector lock by which he protected a rich neighbor,
M. de l'Escalopier, from robbery, and incidentally in return secured
funds with which to open his theatre in the Palais Royal. In his
"Mémoirs" Robert-Houdin states that the opening of the theatre was made
possible by the invention of the writing and drawing automaton whose
history has been traced in chapter III. The reader can choose between
the two stories. One is as plausible as the other.
But to return to the detector lock. Count or M. De l'Escalopier having
complained grievously to his humble neighbor, the watchmaker
Robert-Houdin, that he and his family were being robbed, begged that the
latter suggest some means of catching the thief. Robert-Houdin then
recalled a childish device by which he had caught his school-fellows in
the act of pilfering his desk, etc., and he proposed to the Count that
the same device, elaborated to meet the strength of a full-grown man, be
attached to his wealthy patron's desk. As first planned, the detector
lock was to shoot off a pistol on being tampered with, and then brand
the hand of the thief with nitrate of silver. Count de l'Escalopier
objected to branding a man for life, so Robert-Houdin substituted for
the nitrate of silver a sort of cat's claw which would clamp down on the
robber's hand and draw blood. The Count deposited ten thousand francs in
his desk and caught the robber, his confidential servant, red-handed.
The ten thousand francs he presented to Robert-Houdin as a reward for
stopping the thefts.
A charming tale this makes, but, unfortunately for Robert-Houdin's
claims to originality, the detector lock was not a novelty in his day.
The lock which would first alarm the household by setting off a pistol
and then brand the thief's hand, is described by the Marquis of
Worcester in his book "Centurie of Inventions." As locks and
locksmithing form my hobby, while in England I purchased the entire set
of patent-books, to add to a collection of locks and fastenings from
every known country of the world. In the introduction of the first book
of patents for inventions relating to locks, latches, bolts, etc., from
A.D. 1774 to 1866, the following quotation will be found:
"The Marquis of Worcester in his 'Centurie of Inventions' thus describes
the first detector lock invented, A.D. 1640, by some mechanical genius
of that day: 'This lock is so constructed that, if a stranger attempts
to open it, it catches his hand as a trap catches a fox, though not as
far as maiming him for life, yet so far marketh him that if suspected he
might easily be detected.'"
It appears that to this lock was fitted a steel barb which, if a certain
tumbler was overlifted in the act of picking or otherwise, was projected
against the hand of the operator by a spring. I have seen such a lock as
this in the collection of Hobbs, Hart & Co., London, who have had it in
their possession many years. In every respect it answers the description
of the invention claimed by Robert-Houdin as his own.
Chapter VII. of "Secrets of Stage Conjuring" is devoted to
Robert-Houdin's very incorrect explanation of the famous Indian Basket
Trick. Even his own translator, Professor Hoffmann, takes issue with
Robert-Houdin, as will be seen by reading his foot-note on page 104:
"We will not venture to question the fact vouched for by so high an
authority as Robert-Houdin, that the Indian Basket Trick may sometimes
be performed after the manner above described, but we doubt very much
whether such is the usual or customary method."
[Illustration: A Ramo Samee handbill, featuring his stone-swallowing
act. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
[Illustration: Handbill used by the original Indian jugglers in England
during 1818, in which the sword-swallowing trick is featured. From the
Harry Houdini Collection.]
Robert-Houdin states that the child is placed in the basket, and the
Indian fastens down the lid with leather straps. To facilitate this
operation, he rests his knees against the basket, and the bottom of
the latter thus being turned toward the audience, the boy slips out
through a cunningly contrived trap and quickly conceals himself under
the robe of the magician, whose attitude favors this concealment.
As the basket trick is the Hindoo magician's most wonderful offering, a
truthful account of his methods of performing the same may be
interesting. In the first place, Robert-Houdin's explanation is
impossible and unreasonable because the Hindoo magician does not wear
flowing robes in which the child could be concealed. Every Hindoo
performer I have ever seen wore short trousers and was barefooted.
The correct method of performing the trick, which has been handed down
through generations of Hindoos, is as follows: The boy subject is placed
in a net in which he is firmly tied, after having had his big toes and
thumbs fastened down with bandages. Then, with many a grunt and a groan,
he is lifted into the basket. The subject, however, pretends that the
basket is too small, so he is really seated on one side and keeps his
back in the air. This is done to give the appearance eventually that it
was impossible for him to crouch down or around the basket. The lid of
the basket is now placed on his back, and a large sheet is thrown over
the entire apparatus, which conceals from the audience every movement
made by the subject.
Now commences the Hindoo "patter," in reality yells, groans, and
incantations, while the magician and his assistant strike the basket
with swords or canes, stamp on the ground, gnash their teeth, etc.
Gradually the cover of the basket sinks until the basket seems empty,
to the spectators at least. The fakir now takes off the cover of the
basket, leaving the sheet over it, however. Then he jumps into the
presumably empty basket, stamps all around, and takes out the net in
which are found the turban worn by the subject and the thumb tie. To
prove further that the basket is still empty, the fakir seats himself in
the basket, as shown in the illustration. The lid of the basket is now
replaced, and under this friendly cover the sheet is taken off and the
basket tied up.
Now commences the true Hindoo magic. The magician is a real actor. He
apparently adjures Mahomet. He gets very angry and with fierce looks,
ejaculations, and muttered curses he grabs up a sword or cane and jabs
it through different parts of the basket. During all this time the
subject, who is something of a contortionist, is wriggling about on the
bottom of the basket, keeping out of reach of the sword, and in fact
often guiding its thrusts between his legs, as every movement on the
part of the fakir has been carefully thought out and rehearsed in
advance.
By this time the fakir has convinced his audience that the basket is
empty. To be sure he has not allowed any spectators to come too near him
or the basket, nor has any hand save his touched it, but his clever
acting almost persuades even an intelligent or sceptical onlooker that
the basket is empty.
With the lid of the basket replaced, this time above the friendly sheet,
and the basket tied, he resumes his weird incantations. He screams and
runs back and forth, playing on a small instrument with a hideous tone
which is a cross between the whistle of a locomotive with a cold, and a
sawed-off and hammered-down flute in which has been inserted a tin
whistle. As this nerve-racking music holds the spectators under its
awful spell, the basket begins to rock, the contortionist-subject
gradually raises himself inside the basket, and when the noise is at its
height he straightens up in the basket and raises it with his back as
far as it will go. To the uninitiated it actually appears as if he had
returned to an empty basket in his original position. The trick is a
marvellous deception, but only a Hindoo can exhibit it with success, for
no white person would ever indulge in the screechings, imbecilities, and
contortions which are the spectacular and convincing features of the
trick.
Sometimes the trick is varied. Instead of the subject being found in his
original position he is seen running toward the crowd as from a
distance. This is accomplished by having two subjects, one in the basket
and one hidden on the outskirts of the crowd, who are "doubles" or at
least who show a marked resemblance and are dressed exactly alike.
The earliest programmes of Hindoo jugglers in my collection are dated
1818. The "Mr. Ramosamee" featured on this bill later split his name
thus, "Ramo Samee," and was engaged to perform alone between the acts of
"The Broken Heart" at the Garrick Theatre, London. From Ramo Samee,
Continental and British magicians learned the trick of juggling brass
balls.
On page 135 Professor Hoffmann, in a foot-note, commends Robert-Houdin
for the very impartial manner in which he approaches the question of
spiritualism and spiritualistic manifestations, in his day a
comparative novelty: "In default of absolute certainty, he wisely
reserves his opinion. Where, however, as in the case of the Davenport
Brothers, he had an opportunity of personally observing the alleged
'phenomena,' he has neither difficulty in penetrating nor hesitation in
denouncing the imposture. We venture to believe that any of the
so-called spiritualistic manifestations which had come under the test of
Robert-Houdin's examination would have met a similar fate."
With this commendation I cannot agree. Robert-Houdin once had all the
leeway he wished at a most remarkable manifestation and made no attempt
to hide the fact that he was baffled by the "phenomena." The "Memoirs of
Marquis de Mirville" contain a Robert-Houdin letter in which he admits
that he could find no explanation of tests just witnessed. The letter,
translated from "Die Magie des XIX. Jahrhunderts von Uriarte," 1896,
published in Berlin, Germany, by Heusers Verlag, is herewith quoted: "I
returned from the séance as greatly astonished as it was possible for me
to be, and I am thoroughly convinced that it was entirely out of the
possibility, and no chance whatever, that it was either by accident or
practised trickery to produce such wonderful materializations.
Robert-Houdin, May 18th, 1847."
He further shows his ignorance of séances as offered in his times, by
his attempt to describe the methods employed by the Davenport Brothers,
to whom he devotes chapter XIII., which might be described as a chapter
of errors.
These picturesque American entertainers, the Davenport Brothers, hailed
from Buffalo, N. Y., U.S.A. Ira Erastus was born September 17th, 1839,
and William Henry, February 1st, 1841. They fairly startled the world by
their so-called manifestations of spiritualism during the 60's, and were
alternately lauded and reviled for their performances.
[Illustration: The Davenport Brothers in their prime, from photographs
furnished by them to the contemporary press, now in the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
Both were below medium height, rather handsome men, and, as will be seen
from the accompanying engraving, looked much alike. Their career, which
started in America, ran from about 1853 to the early 70's. They made a
trip to Europe in 1864, remaining until August, 1869. Both married
abroad; Ira a daughter of France, Mlle. Louise Toulet, and William Henry
a Polish girl, Miss Matilda Mag. On the whole, their foreign tour was
most profitable, though in some cities they paid a high price for their
notoriety. In England they waged bitter warfare with John Henry
Anderson, Tolmaque, and Professor Redmond.
On the occasion of their Paris opening at the Salle Herz they claimed
that the hoodlum element mobbed the theatre and broke up their
performance at the instigation of Henri Robin, who was playing in
opposition. Hamilton, who had succeeded to the management of
Robert-Houdin's theatre, in a letter published after witnessing their
initial performance announced that he shared this belief; but as
Robert-Houdin and Henri Robin were bitter rivals, I believe Hamilton's
letter was the result of two things: first the intense ill-will he
harbored against Robin, and second, as he had Robert-Houdin as his
mentor, he was really ignorant of the Davenport methods and therefore
not in a position to defend them. The letter, which is given in full,
appeared in _Gazette des Étrangers_, Paris, September 27th, 1865:
"Messrs. Davenport: Yesterday I had the pleasure of being present at the
séance you gave, and I came away from it convinced that jealousy alone
was the cause of the outcry raised against you. The phenomena produced
surpassed my expectations, and your experiments were full of interest to
me. I consider it my duty to add that these phenomena are inexplicable;
and the more so by such persons as have thought themselves able to guess
your supposed secret, and who are, in fact, far indeed from having
discovered the truth. Hamilton."
[Illustration: The cabinet trick offered by the Davenport Brothers. From
an old print in the Harry Houdini Collection.]
After their return to America the Davenport Brothers retired from
public life, purchased a farm, and rested on their laurels and a
corpulent bank account. One of them is said to have admitted that all
their work was skilful manipulation and not spiritualistic
manifestations. Nevertheless, their names will live so long as
spiritualism is talked of or cabinet effects tolerated by the public.
The trick as offered by the Davenport Brothers consisted of their being
tied hand and foot at opposite ends of the cabinet, which was hung with
musical instruments, bells, etc. The two men slipped in and out of the
ropes without delay or apparent damage to the ropes, and musical
instruments were played with arms presumably in bondage.
Robert-Houdin, in attempting to expose the trick, makes two flagrant
errors. First he claims that "by dint of special practice on the part of
our mediums, the thumb is made to lie flat in the hand, when the whole
assumes a cylindrical form of scarcely greater diameter than the wrist";
and second that the Davenport Brothers had trained themselves to see in
the dark.
[Illustration: Announcement used by the Davenport Brothers on their
return to London, England, after their tour of the Continent in April,
1868. From the Harry Houdini Collection.]
As releasing myself from fastenings of all sorts, from ropes to
strait-jackets, has been my profession for twenty years, I am in a
position to contradict Robert-Houdin's first claim positively. I have
met thousands of persons who claimed that the rope, as well as the
handcuff trick, was accomplished by folding the hand together or making
the wrist larger than the hand, but never have I met men or women who
could make their hands smaller than their wrists. I have even gone so
far as to have iron bands made and press my hands together, hoping
eventually to make my hands smaller than my wrists, but this has
failed, too. Even if the entire thumb were cut away, I believe it would
still be impossible to slip a rope that was properly bound around the
wrist. You may take any cuff of the adjustable make, or a ratchet cuff,
place it about a small woman's wrist, and you will find that even she
will be unable to slip her wrists. I do not mean by this any hand-cuff
that will not come to any size, or the common cuffs which when locked
will lock only to a certain size, but I mean a cuff that can be locked
and adjusted to any size of wrist.
In rope-tying, the principal trick is to allow yourself to be tied
according to certain methods of crossing your hands or wrists, so that
by eventually straightening your hands you have made enough room to
allow them to slip out very easily. It is not always the size of the
wrist that counts. It is the manner of holding your hands when the knots
are being tied.
The gift of seeing in the dark, with which Robert-Houdin endowed the
Davenports, is equally preposterous. Professor Hoffmann defends
Robert-Houdin by citing instances of prisoners who had been confined in
cells for an indefinite period and who had learned to see in the dark.
This is quite true, but they did not alternate daylight and darkness.
Eminent opticians and oculists inform me that the faculty of seeing in
the dark cannot be acquired by parties like the Davenports, who spent
most of their time in the light.
While the Davenports were pioneers in rope-tying and cabinet séances,
had Robert-Houdin been the clever sleight-of-hand performer and inventor
he claims to have been, these tricks would have been clear and solvable
to him. But as he obviously joined the ranks of the amazed and
bewildered masses, making only a futile attempt to explain the
performances, he convicts himself of ignorance regarding his own art.
A man who has made a fortune in the world of magic and who desires to
hand down to posterity a clean record of his attainments will be clever
enough and manly enough to avoid any attempt to explain that which he
does not understand. By his flagrant mis-statements regarding the tricks
of his predecessors and contemporaries, Robert-Houdin, however, convicts
himself of ignorance regarding the fundamental principles of magic, and
arouses in the minds of broad, intelligent readers doubts regarding his
claims to the invention of the various tricks and automata which he
declares to have been the output of his brain, the production of his own
deft hands.
CHAPTER XI
THE NARROWNESS OF ROBERT-HOUDIN'S "MEMOIRS"
The charm of true memoirs lies far beyond the printed pages, in the
depth and breadth of the writer's soul. The greatest of all
autobiographies are those which detail not only the lives of the men who
penned them, but which abound in diverting anecdotes and character
studies of the men and women among whom the writer moved. They are not
autobiographies alone, but vivid, broad-minded pen-pictures of the
period in which the writer was a vigorous, respect-compelling figure.
Memoirs written with a view to settling old scores seldom live to
accomplish their ends. The narrowness and pettiness of the writer, which
intelligent reading of history is bound to disclose, destroy all other
charms which the book may possess.
At personal exploitation Robert-Houdin is a brilliant success. As a
writer of memoirs he is a wretched failure. Whenever he writes of
himself, his pen seems fairly to scintillate. Whenever he refers to
other magicians of his times, his pen lags and drops on the pages blots
which can emanate only from a narrow, petty, jealous nature.
Even when he writes of his own family, this peculiar trait of petty
egotism may be read between the lines. He mentions the name of his son
Émile, apparently because the lad shared his stage triumphs. His other
children he never mentions by name. The second wife, who, he grudgingly
admits, stood valiantly by him in his days of poverty and
disappointment, he does not honor by so much as stating her name before
marriage. Rather, he refers to her as a person whom he was constrained
to place in charge of his household in order that he might continue his
experiments and his work on automata. A less gracious tribute to wifely
devotion was never penned.
But it is in dealing with contemporary magicians or those whose
handiwork in bygone years he cleverly purloined and proclaimed as his
original inventions, that the petty jealousy of the man comes to the
surface. Whenever he desires to claim for himself credit due a
predecessor in the world of magic, he either ignores the man's very
existence or writes of his competitor in such a manner that the latter's
standing as man and magician is lowered. Not that he makes broad,
sweeping statements. Rather, he indulges in the innuendo which is far
more dangerous to the party attacked. He never strikes a pen-blow which,
because of its brutality, might arouse the sympathy of his readers for
the object of his attack. Here, in the gentle art of innuendo and
belittling, if not in the conjurer's art, Robert-Houdin is a master.
[Illustration: Wiljalba Frikell in his youth, showing the peculiar
costume worn by conjurers at that time. The author secured this portrait
a few weeks before Frikell's death and sent it to the veteran conjurer,
who was amazed to learn that this print was in existence. Now in the
Harry Houdini Collection.]
In writing his "Memoirs" he deliberately ignores Compars Herrmann, Henri
Robin, Wiljalba Frikell, M. Jacobs, and P. T. Barnum, all of whom he
knew personally. He might have written most entertainingly of these men,
but in each case he had an object in avoiding reference to the
acquaintance. P. T. Barnum knew the true history of the writing and
drawing figure, as reference to chapter III. of this book will show.
Frikell was the pioneer in dispensing with cumbersome stage draperies.
Robert-Houdin claimed this innovation as the product of his own
ingenuity. Compars Herrmann was playing in London when Robert-Houdin
made his English début under Mitchell's direction, and was presenting,
trick for trick, the répertoire claimed by Robert-Houdin as original
with him. Henri Robin disputed Robert-Houdin's claim to having invented
the inexhaustible bottle, and proved his case, as will be seen by
reference to chapter VIII. Jacobs was one of Anderson's cleverest
imitators and a rival of Robert-Houdin in the English provinces.
The adroit manner in which Robert-Houdin flays Pinetti, Anderson, and
Bosco would arouse admiration were his pen-lashings devoted to men who
deserved such treatment. Under existing circumstances--his debt to Bosco
and Pinetti, whose tricks he filched remorselessly, and the fact that
Anderson's popularity outlived his own in England--his efforts to
belittle these men are unworthy of one who called himself a man and a
master magician. The truly great and successful man rises above petty
jealousy and personalities. This, Robert-Houdin could not do, even when
he sat pen in hand, in retirement, with the fear of competition removed.
It seems almost incredible that Robert-Houdin should ignore Henri Robin
in his "Memoirs," for Robin was one of the most interesting characters
of that day. He still stands in magic's history as the Chesterfield of
conjuring, a man of many gifts, charming address, and broad education.
Even in his dispute with Robert-Houdin regarding the invention of the
inexhaustible bottle, he never forgot his dignity, but proved his case
by that most potent of arguments, a well-edited magazine published under
his direction, in which an illustration showed him actually performing
the trick in 1844, or a full three years before it appeared on
Robert-Houdin's programme.
Robert-Houdin was indebted to Robin for another trick, the Garde
Française, introduced by Robert-Houdin in October, 1847. Henri Robin had
precisely the same figure, doing precisely the same feats, in the garb
of an Arab. An illustration from Robin's magazine, _L'Almanach
Cagliostro_, shows Robin offering this figure in March, 1846, or a year
and seven months before it was presented by Robert-Houdin. Yet the only
reference made by Robert-Houdin to this popular and gifted contemporary
is in "The Secrets of Stage Conjuring" where he remarks slightingly that
Robin spoiled Mr. Pepper's business by giving a poor imitation of the
latter's ghost show.
Again, in ignoring Herrmann, he proves his narrowness of mind, his utter
unwillingness to admit any ability in his rivals. Compars Herrmann was
no ordinary trickster or mountebank, but a conjurer who remained in
London almost a year, playing the very best houses, and later scoring
equal popularity in the provinces. He was decorated by various monarchs
and was famous for his large gifts to charities. Even the present
generation, including theatre-goers and students of magic, remembers the
name of Herrmann, when Robert-Houdin is forgotten or would be but for
his cleverly written autobiography.
Wiljalba Frikell, to whom should go the credit of cutting out heavy
stage draperies, never claimed the innovation as a carefully planned
conceit, but as an accident. His paraphernalia were destroyed in a fire,
but he desired to live up to his contract and give a performance as
announced. He therefore offered sleight-of-hand, pure and simple, with
the aid of a few tables, chairs, and other common properties which were
absolutely undraped. He was also compelled to don regulation, severely
plain, evening clothes. The absence of draperies, which naturally aid a
conjurer in attaining results, created so pleasing a sensation that
Frikell never again draped his stage nor wore fancy raiment. Had
Robert-Houdin told the truth about his so-called innovation, he must
have given Frikell credit, wherefore he conveniently ignores Frikell
completely.
It is entirely characteristic of Robert-Houdin that he did not openly
assail Pinetti in the pages of his "Memoirs." With cleverness worthy of
a better cause, he quotes the bitter verbal attack as issuing from the
lips of the friend and mentor of his youth, Signor Torrini.
The major portion of chapter VI., pages 92 to 104 inclusive, American
edition of his autobiography, is devoted to assailing Pinetti's
abilities as a conjurer and his reputation as a man. Granted that
Pinetti did put Torrini to shame on the Neapolitan stage, such revenge
for a wholesale duplication of the magician's tricks might be termed
almost human and natural. Had a minor magician, amateur or professional,
dogged the footsteps of Robert-Houdin, copying his tricks, the entire
répertoire upon which he depended for a livelihood, thus endangering his
future, I doubt that even the author of "Confidences d'un
Prestidigitateur" would have hesitated to unmask and undo his rival.
In fact, by reference to the editorial note, foot of page 421, American
edition of Robert-Houdin's "Memoirs," it will be seen that in 1850
Robert-Houdin appealed to the law for protection in just such a case. An
employee was sent to prison for two years, as judgment for selling to an
amateur some of his master's secrets.
[Illustration: Bartolomeo Bosco in his prime. From an engraving in the
Harry Houdini Collection.]
But in attacking Pinetti, Robert-Houdin goes a step too far and
falsifies, not directly but by innuendo, when he permits the impression
to go forth that Pinetti was hounded and ruined both financially and
professionally by Torrini, as is set forth on page 104. He pictures
Torrini as dogging the footsteps of Pinetti through all Italy and
finally driving him in a state of abject misery to Russia, where he died
in the home of a nobleman, who sheltered him through sheer compassion.
Robert-Houdin must have known this was absolutely untrue, for he quotes
Robertson, who published Pinetti's true experiences in Russia. Pinetti
took a fortune with him to Russia, acquired more wealth there, and then
lost his entire financial holdings through his passion for balloon
experiments, as is set forth in chapter II. of this book.
Then, to show his own inconsistency, after picturing Pinetti in his
"Memoirs" as a charlatan, a conjurer of vulgar, uncouth pretensions
rather than as a good showman of real ability, Robert-Houdin is forced
to admit on page 25 of "Secrets of Magic" that later conjurers employed
Pinetti programmes as a foundation upon which their performances were
built! Even here, however, Robert-Houdin fails to acknowledge an iota of
the heavy debt which he personally owed the despised Chevalier Pinetti.
Robert-Houdin devotes the greater part of chapter X., American edition
of his autobiography, to belittling Bosco, a conjurer whose popularity
all over Europe was long-lived. First, he pictures Bosco as a most cruel
creature who literally tortured to death the birds used in his
performances. Here, as in his attack on Pinetti, Robert-Houdin throws
the responsibility for criticism on the shoulders of another. His old
friend Antonio accompanies him to watch Bosco's performance, and it is
Antonio throughout the narrative who inveighs against Bosco's cruelty
and Antonio who insists upon leaving before the performance closes,
because the cruelty of the conjurer nauseates him.
At that time no society for the protection of animals existed, and, even
if it had, I doubt whether Bosco's performance would have come under the
ban. Certain magicians of to-day employ many of Bosco's tricks in which
birds and even small animals are used, but the conjuring is so deftly
done that the public of 1907, like that of 1838, thinks it is all
sleight-of-hand work and that the birds are neither hurt nor killed.
Even in Bosco's time the bird trick was not in his répertoire
exclusively. All English magicians employed it. Apparently the head of
the fowl was amputated, but often in reality it was tucked under the
wing, and the head and neck of another fowl was shown by
sleight-of-hand. Quite probably the Parisian public did not consider
Bosco cruel. Robert-Houdin and his friend Antonio, being versed in
sleight-of-hand and conjuring methods, read cruelty between the deft
movements. Certain it is that the name of Bosco has not been handed down
to posterity by other writers as a synonym of cruelty.
The animus of Robert-Houdin's attack on Bosco is evident at every point
of the narrative. Now he accuses him of bad taste in appearing in the
box-office. Again he suggests that the somewhat impressive opening of
Bosco's act savors of both charlatanism and burlesque, when in reality
the secret of showmanship consists not of what you really do, but what
the mystery-loving public thinks you do. Bosco undoubtedly secured
precisely the effect he desired, because Robert-Houdin devotes more than
a page to a most unnecessary attempt to explain away what he considered
Bosco's undeserved popularity.
Bosco was not only a clever magician, but a man of many adventures, so
that his life reads like a romance. This soldier of fortune, Bartolomeo
Bosco, was born of a noble Piedmont family, on January 11th, 1793, in
Turin, Italy. From boyhood he showed great ability as a necromancer, but
at the age of nineteen he was forced to serve under Napoleon I. in the
Russian campaign. He was a fusilier in the Eleventh Infantry, and at the
battle of Borodino was injured in an engagement with Cossacks. Pierced
by a lance, he lay upon the ground apparently dead. A Cossack callously
roamed among the dead and dying, rifling pockets and belts. When he came
to the form of Bosco, that youth feigned death, knowing that resistance
to the ghoul meant a death wound. But while the Cossack robbed the
Italian soldier, the latter stealthily raised his unwounded arm and by
sleight-of-hand rifled the well-filled pockets of the ghoul, which fact
was not discovered by the Cossack until he was far from the field of the
dead and dying, where he had left one of the enemy considerably better
off, thanks to Bosco's conjuring gifts.
Later Bosco was sent captive to Siberia, where he perfected his
sleight-of-hand while amusing fellow-prisoners and jailers. In 1814 he
was released and returned to his native land, where he studied medicine,
but eventually decided to become a public entertainer. He was not only a
clever entertainer, but a good business man, and he planned each year on
saving enough money to insure a life of ease in his old age. But events
intervened to ruin all his well-laid plans. The sins of his youth
brought their penalty. An illegitimate son, Eugene, became a heavy drag
upon the retired magician, who was compelled to pay large sums to the
young man in order to prevent his playing in either France or Germany or
assuming the name of Bosco. In a German antiquary's shop at Bonn on the
Rhine I found an agreement in which Bosco agreed to pay this youth five
thousand francs for not using the name of Bosco. This agreement is too
long for reproduction in this volume, but unquestionably it is genuine
and tells all too eloquently the troubles which beset Bosco in his old
age.
Eugene was said to be the superior of his famous father in
sleight-of-hand, but he was wild and given to excesses. Women and wine
checked what might have been a brilliant professional career. Disabled,
poverty-stricken, and respected by none, he soon disappeared from the
conjuring world, and according to Carl Willman in the "Zauberwelt" he
died miserably in Hungary in 1891.
[Illustration: Only photograph of Madame Bosco, given to the author by
Mrs. Mueller, Madame Bosco's niece, at the funeral of Wiljalba Frikell.]
[Illustration: The author at the grave of Bosco. From a photograph in
the Harry Houdini Collection.]
In the mean time, Bosco and his wife lived in poverty in Dresden, where
the once brilliant conjurer died March 2nd, 1863. His wife died three
years later and was interred in the grave with her husband in a cemetery
on Friedrichstrasse. There was nothing on the tombstone to indicate the
double interment, and I discovered the fact only by investigating the
municipal and cemetery records. Here I also learned that the grave had
merely been leased, and as the lease was about to expire the bones of
the great conjurer and his faithful wife might soon be disinterred and
reburied in a neglected corner of the graveyard devoted to the poor and
unclaimed dead. To prevent this, I purchased the lot and tombstone, and
presented the same to the Society of American Magicians, of which
organization, at the present writing, I am a member.
A man of noble birth and brilliant attainments was the original Bosco,
and his name became a by-word all over the Continent as the synonym, not
of cruelty, but of clever deception, yet never has posterity put the
name of a great performer to such ignoble uses. For who has not heard
the cry of the modern Bosco, "Eat-'em-alive"?
To-day I can close my eyes and summon two visions. First I see myself
standing bareheaded before a neglected grave in the quiet cemetery on
Friedrichstrasse, Dresden, the sunlight pouring down upon the tombstone
which bears not only the cup-and-balls and wand, insignia of Bosco's
most famous trick, but this inscription: "Ici repose le célèbre
Bartolomeo Bosco.--Né à Turin le 11 Janvier, 1793; décédé à Dresden le 2
Mars, 1863." The history of this clever conjurer, with all its lights
and shadows, sweeps before me like a mental panorama.
The second vision carries me into the country, to the fairs of England
and the side-shows of America:
"Bosco! Bosco! Eat-'em-alive Bosco. You can't afford to miss this
marvel. Bosco! Bosco!"
Follow me into the enclosure and gaze down into a den. There lies a
half-naked human being. His hair is long and matted, a loin cloth does
wretched duty as clothing. Torn sandals are on his feet. The eulogistic
lecturer dilates upon the powers of this twentieth-century Bosco, but
you do not listen. Your fascinated gaze is fixed on various hideous,
wriggling, writhing forms on the floor of the den. Snakes--scores of
them! Now the creature, half-animal, half-human, glances up to make sure
that attention is riveted upon him, then grasps one of the serpents in
his hideous hands and in a flash bites off its head. The writhing body
falls back to the ground.
You grip the railing in a sudden faintness. Has your brain deceived your
eyes, or your eyes your brain? If you are a conjurer you try to convince
yourself that it is all a clever sleight-of-hand exhibition, but in your
heart you know it is not true. This creature, so near a beast, has
debauched his manhood for a few paltry dollars, and in dragging himself
down has dragged down the name of a worthy, a brilliant, a world-famous
performer.
Of the twentieth-century Boscos there are, alas, many. You will find
them all over the world, in street carnivals, side-shows, fair-booths,
and museums, and why the public supports such debasing exhibitions I
have never yet been able to understand. I have seen half-starved
Russians pick food from refuse-barrels. I have seen besotted Americans
creep out from low dives to draw the dregs of beer-barrels into tomato
cans. I have seen absinthe fiends in Paris trade body and soul to obtain
their beloved stimulant. I have heard morphine fiends in Russia promise
to exhibit the effect of the needle in return for the price of an
injection. But never has my soul so risen in revolt as at sight of this
bestial exhibition with which the name of Bosco, a nobleman and a
conjurer of merit, has been linked.
[Illustration: Anderson's opening programme at the Strand Theatre,
Christmas week, 1848, showing that he duplicated the tricks offered by
Robert-Houdin, who, in his "Memoirs," claims that Anderson's programme
was stale and uninteresting by comparison with his own.]
Even more despicable than his attack upon Bosco is Robert-Houdin's
flaying of John Henry Anderson. In this he is both unmanly and
untruthful. Hinging his attack on his surprise at the press methods
and advertising adopted in England as opposed to the less spectacular
means employed in France, he insinuates that Anderson's entire success
was built not upon merit, ability, originality, or diversified
programmes, but solely upon sensational advertising. On page 325 of the
American edition of his "Memoirs" Robert-Houdin writes thus of his
competitor:
"On my arrival in England a conjurer of the name of Anderson, who
assumed the title of Great Wizard of the North, had been performing for
a long period at the little Strand Theatre.
"This artist, fearing, doubtlessly, that public attention might be
divided, tried to crush the publicity of my performances; hence he sent
out on London streets a cavalcade thus organized:
"Four enormous carriages, covered with posters and pictures representing
all sorts of witchcraft, opened the procession. Then followed
four-and-twenty merry men, each bearing a banner on which was painted a
letter a yard in height.
"At each cross-road the four carriages stopped side by side and
presented a bill some twenty-five yards in length, while all the men (I
should say letters), on receiving the word of command, drew themselves
up in a line, like the vehicles.
"Seen in front the letters formed this phrase:
THE CELEBRATED ANDERSON ! ! !
While on the other side of the banners could be read:
THE GREAT WIZARD OF THE NORTH.
[Illustration: Handbill used by Anderson in Germany. January, 1848, when
Robert-Houdin claimed that he was playing in the English provinces. From
the Harry Houdini Collection.]
"Unfortunately for the Wizard, his performances were attacked by a
mortal disease; too long a stay in London had ended by producing
satiety. Besides, his repertory was out-of-date, and could not contend
against the new tricks which I was offering. What could he present to
the public in opposition to the second sight, the suspension, and the
inexhaustible bottle? Hence he was obliged to close his theatre and
start for the provinces, where he managed, as usual, to make excellent
receipts, owing to his powerful means of notoriety."
In the first place, Robert Houdin insinuates that when they played in
opposition John Henry Anderson's répertoire was stale and uninteresting.
Is it possible that Robert-Houdin could not read Anderson's bills, or
were his statements deliberate falsehoods, emanating from a malicious,
wilful desire to injure Anderson?
What did Anderson have to offer in opposition to Robert-Houdin's
much-vaunted Suspension, Second Sight, and Inexhaustible Bottle? Consult
the Anderson programme, reproduced, and you will find that the great
Wizard of the North duplicated the French conjurer's répertoire. "The
Ethereal Suspension" of Robert-Houdin's programme was "Suspension
Chloroforeene" on Anderson's. Second Sight appeared on both bills. "The
Inexhaustible Bottle" had wisely been dropped by Anderson because he had
been using it in one form or another for ten years preceding the date of
Robert-Houdin's appearance in London, as is proven in chapter IX. of
this book.
Therefore, if Anderson's programme was passé and uninteresting, so also
must have been the one offered by Robert-Houdin!
[Illustration: Poster used by Anderson during his closing week at the
Strand Theatre, London, January 11th, 1848. From the Harry Houdini
Collection.]
Second, John Henry Anderson was not in London when Robert-Houdin arrived
there in May, 1848. He was on the Continent, and a bill reproduced will
show that he was in Germany in January, 1848, and did not open at the
Strand Theatre until December 26th, 1848. Then it was Robert-Houdin who
had just returned from the provinces, not Anderson. Anderson had been
playing the capitals of Europe. Robert-Houdin had been in Manchester,
England.
Robert-Houdin again skilfully twists the truth to suit his own ends. He
actually states that Anderson, returning from a tour of the provinces,
used a new poster, a caricature of the famous painting, "Napoleon's
Return from Elba":
"In the foreground Anderson was seen affecting the attitude of the great
man; above his head fluttered an enormous banner bearing the words 'The
Wonder of the World'; while, behind him and somewhat lost in the shade,
the Emperor of Russia and several other monarchs stood in a respectful
posture. As in the original picture, the fanatic admirers of the Wizard
embraced his knees, while an immense crowd received him triumphantly. In
the distance could be seen the equestrian statue of the Iron Duke, who,
hat in hand, bowed before him, the Great Wizard; and lastly, the very
dome of St. Paul's bent towards him most humbly.
"At the bottom was the inscription,
RETURN OF THE NAPOLEON OF NECROMANCY.
"Regarded seriously, this picture would be found a puff in very bad
taste; but as a caricature it is excessively comic. Besides, it had the
double result of making the London public laugh and bringing a great
number of shillings into the skilful puffer's pockets."
[Illustration: Eugene Bosco, son of the original Bosco. From the Harry
Houdini Collection.]
Reference to my collection of Anderson programmes and press clippings
proves that while on the Continent his performances had created such a
sensation that, according to the ethics and etiquette of his profession,
Anderson was quite justified in assuming the title of "The Napoleon of
Necromancy" and in depicting even kings and noblemen admiring his
abilities as a conjurer. But, alas, Robert-Houdin had played only before
English and French monarchs, not before the other crowned heads of
Europe, including the Czar of Russia and the German Kaiser!
It required weeks and months of browsing in old book- and print-shops,
national libraries, and rare collections on my part to prove that
Anderson had really played these engagements, when his bitter rival,
Robert-Houdin, his heart eaten with jealousy until his sense of honor
and truth was hopelessly blunted, was claiming that Anderson had just
returned from a trip in the English provinces.
It will be noted by reference to the Anderson programme that he had been
engaged only for the Christmas holidays, but despite Robert-Houdin's
claim that he was a failure and was obliged to close and seek new fields
of conquest in the provinces, Anderson's engagement was extended. He
remained at the Strand until January 11th, 1848, then after a brief
provincial tour he actually returned to London and played to big
receipts. Again and again he appeared in London. Far from being the
unpopular, forgotten ex-magician pictured by Robert-Houdin, he performed
with great success at the St. James Theatre, London, in 1851.
Robert-Houdin appeared in London for the last time in 1853, but in 1865
"the despised and forgotten Anderson" was there again, creating a furor
in his exposure of the Davenport Brothers.
[Illustration: John Henry Anderson as he appeared in his later years.
From a cut in the Harry Houdini Collection.]
Robert-Houdin might have been justified in criticising Anderson's
sensational advertising methods, for these were entirely opposed to the
more elegant and conservative methods employed by the French conjurer.
But certainly he was not justified in picturing his rival as one who
had passed his prime, whose popularity had waned, whose répertoire no
longer attracted the public. For, in addition to duplicating
Robert-Houdin's entire répertoire, Anderson offered tricks of which
Robert-Houdin knew nothing, and for years to come he constantly
reconstructed his programmes, keeping them strictly up-to-date.
Anderson did die a poor man, but this was not because the
amusement-loving public had wearied of him. A popular performer, like so
many of his class he did not know how to invest his huge earnings. It is
known that he gave $20,000 to various charities, while no record of
Robert-Houdin's charities exists. He was burned out several times. He
lost money through a bad contract made for his Australian tour. Certain
investments dropped in value because of the Civil War in the United
States, during which England sympathized with the South. Finally, during
his American tour after the Civil War, Anderson played the Southern
States, then steeped in bitterness toward the North, and was unfortunate
enough to bill himself as "The Great Wizard of the North." This roused
the Southern prejudice to white heat, he was almost mobbed, and was
finally driven from that section of the country. He went into
bankruptcy, November 19th, 1866, and died at Darlington, County Durham,
England, Feb. 3rd, 1874. His remains were interred, in accordance with
his dying request, at Aberdeen, Scotland.
So ends the true history of Robert-Houdin. The master-magician,
unmasked, stands forth in all the hideous nakedness of historical proof,
the prince of pilferers. That he might bask for a few hours in public
adulation, he purloined the ideas of magicians long dead and buried, and
proclaimed these as the fruits of his own inventive genius. That he
might be known to posterity as the king of conjurers, he sold his
birthright of manhood and honor for a mere mess of pottage, his
"Memoirs," written by the hand of another man, who at his instigation
belittled his contemporaries, and juggled facts and truth to further his
egotistical, jealous ambitions.
But the day of reckoning is come. Upon the history of magic as
promulgated by Robert-Houdin the searchlight of modern investigation has
been turned. Credit has been given where it belongs, to those magicians
who preceded Robert-Houdin and upon whose abilities and achievements
Robert-Houdin built his unearned, unmerited fame. The dust of years has
been swept from names long forgotten, which should forever shine in the
annals of magic.
Thus end, also, my researches, covering almost two decades of time,
researches in which my veneration for old-time magicians grew with each
newly discovered bit of history; researches during which my respect for
the profession of magic has grown by leaps and bounds. And the fruits of
these researches I now lay before the only true jury, the great reading
public. My task is finished.
* * * * *
Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:
Inventions and and Discoveries=> Inventions and Discoveries {pg 14}
from his autobigraphy=> from his autobiography {pg 34}
is supposed so have been engraved=> is supposed to have been engraved
{pg 59 illustration caption}
is his autobiography=> in his autobiography {pg 89 illustration caption}
woudn=> wound {pg 160}
perfomances=> performances {pg 187}
though as far as maiming him for life=> though not as far as maiming him
for life {pg 281}
the frontispiese=> the frontispiece {pg 48 illustration caption}
*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The Unmasking of Robert-Houdin" ***
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