Chapter VIII: Introduction: By Dr. Paul Carus (7)

“The event proved that the conjurer’s analysis of the King’s character was accurate: yet one may venture the opinion that the magician had taken every needed precaution to avoid failure even if the monarch had made another selection. Probably Robert-Houdin had one little parchment packet hidden in advance somewhere in the dome of the Invalides and another tucked up out of sight in the base of one of the candelabra on the chimney-piece; and if either of the other destinations had been chosen, the substitute packet would have been produced and the magician would then have offered to transport it also into the box of the orange-tree. And thus the startling climax of the marvel would have been only a little delayed.

“When so strange a wonder can be wrought under such circumstances by means so simple, we cannot but feel the force of Dr. Lodge’s warning that an unwavering scepticism ought to be the attitude of all honest investigators toward every one who professes to be able to suspend the operation of a custom of nature. No one of the feats attributed to Home, the celebrated medium who plied his trade in Paris during the Second Empire, was more abnormal than this trick of Cagliostro’s Casket, and no one of them is so well authenticated. It may be that certain of the customs of nature are not inexorable and that we shall be able to discover exceptions now and again. But the proof of any alleged exception, the evidence in favor of any alleged violation of the custom of nature, ought to be overwhelming.” {150}

V.

The greatest event of Houdin’s life was his embassy to Algeria, “at the special request of the French Government, which desired to lessen the influence of the Marabouts, whose conjuring tricks, accepted as actual magic by the Arabs, gave them too much influence.” He went to play off his tricks against those of Arab priests, or holy men, and, by “greater marvels than they could show, destroy the _prestige_ which they had acquired. He so completely succeeded that the Arabs lost all faith in the miracles of the Marabouts, and thus was destroyed an influence very dangerous to the French Government.” His first performance was given at the leading theatre of Algiers, before a great assemblage of Arabs, who had been summoned to witness the _soirée magique_, by the mandate of the Marshall-Governor of Algeria. Houdin’s “Light and Heavy Chest” literally paralyzed the Arabs with astonishment. He altered the _mise en scène_, and pretended to be able to make the strongest man so weak that he would be unable to lift a small box from the floor. He says in his memoirs:

“I advanced with my box in my hand, to the center of the ‘practicable,’ communicating from the stage to the pit; then addressing the Arabs, I said to them:

“ ‘From what you have witnessed, you will attribute a supernatural power to me, and you are right. I will give you a new proof of my marvelous authority, by showing that I can deprive the most powerful man of his strength and restore it at my will. Any one who thinks himself strong enough to try the experiment may draw near me.’ (I spoke slowly, in order to give the interpreter time to translate my words).

“An Arab of middle height, but well built and muscular, like many of the Arabs are, came to my side with sufficient assurance.

“ ‘Are you very strong?’ I said to him, measuring him from head to foot.

“ ‘Oh yes!’ he replied carelessly.

“ ‘Are you sure you will always remain so?’

“ ‘Quite sure.’

“ ‘You are mistaken, for in an instant I will rob you of your strength, and you shall become like as a little child.’ {151}

“The Arab smiled disdainfully, as a sign of his incredulity.

“ ‘Stay,’ I continued; ‘lift up this box.’

“The Arab stooped, lifted up the box, and said to me, ‘Is this all?’

“ ‘Wait ⸺!’ I replied.

“Then with all possible gravity, I made an imposing gesture and solemnly pronounced the words:

“ ‘Behold! you are weaker than a woman; now, try to lift the box.’

“The Hercules, quite cool as to my conjuration, seized the box once again by the handle, and gave it a violent tug, but this time the box resisted, and spite of his most vigorous attacks, would not budge an inch.

“The Arab vainly expended on this unlucky box a strength which would have raised an enormous weight, until at length exhausted, panting, and red with anger, he stopped, became thoughtful, and began to comprehend the influences of magic.

“He was on the point of withdrawing; but that would be allowing his weakness, and that he, hitherto respected for his vigor, had become as a little child. This thought rendered him almost mad.

“Deriving fresh strength from the encouragements his friends offered him by word and deed, he turned a glance around them, which seemed to say, ‘You will see what a son of the desert can do.’

“He bent once again over the box: his nervous hands twined around the handle, and his legs, placed on either side like two bronze columns, served as a support for the final effort.

“But, wonder of wonders! this Hercules, a moment since so strong and proud, now bows his head; his arms, riveted to the box, undergo a violent muscular contraction; his legs give way, and he falls on his knees with a yell of agony.

“An electric shock, produced by an induction apparatus, had been passed, on a signal from me, from the further end of the stage into the handle of the box. Hence the contortions of the poor Arab!

“It would have been cruelty to prolong this scene. {152}

“I gave a second signal, and the electric current was immediately intercepted. My athlete, disengaged from his terrible bondage, raised his hands over his head.

“ ‘Allah! Allah’ he exclaimed, full of terror; then, wrapping himself up quickly in the folds of his burnous, as if to hide his disgrace, he rushed through the ranks of the spectators and gained the front entrance.

“With the exception of the dignitaries occupying the stage boxes and the privileged spectators, in the body of the house, who seemed to take great pleasure in this great experiment, my audience had become grave and silent, and I heard the words ‘_Shaitan!_’ ‘_Djenoum!_’ passing in a murmur round the circle of credulous men, who, while gazing on me, seemed astonished that I possessed none of the physical qualities attributed to the angel of darkness.”

The Marabout priests constantly boasted of their invulnerability. They were reputed to be possessed of powerful talismans which caused loaded weapons to flash in the pan when fired at them. Houdin counteracted these claims by performing his celebrated bullet-catching feat, in which a marked bullet apparently shot from a gun is caught by the magician in a plate or between his teeth. There are two ways of accomplishing this trick. One is by substituting a bullet of hollow wax for the real leaden bullet. The explosion scatters the wax into minute fragments which fly in all directions and do not come in contact with the person shot at; provided he stands at a respectable distance from the individual who handles the pistol or gun. The second method is to insert into the barrel of the weapon a small tube open at one end. Into this receptacle the bullet falls, and the tube is withdrawn from the gun in the act of ramming it, forming as it were a part of the ramrod. The performer, once in possession of the little tube, secretly extracts the marked bullet and produces it at the proper time. Houdin had recourse to both ways of performing this startling trick. Sometimes he filled the wax bullet with blood, extracted from his thumb. When the bullet smashed against a white wall it left a red splash. Houdin, after traveling into the interior of Algeria, visiting many prominent chieftains, returned to France, and settled down at St. Gervais, a suburb {153} of Blois. He relinquished his theatre to his brother-in-law, Pierre Chocat (M. Hamilton), and devoted himself to scientific work, and writing his _Confidences_ and other works on natural magic.

VI.

Houdin called his villa at St. Gervais the “Priory,” a rather monastic title. It was a veritable palace of enchantments. Electrical devices played an important part in its construction, as well as automata. The Pepper ghost illusion was rigged up in a small pavilion on the grounds. A mechanical hermit welcomed guests to a grotto: Houdin’s friends jestingly called the place “_L’Abbaye de l’Attrape_ (_la Trappe_),” or “Catch’em Abbey.” The pun is almost untranslatable. “_Attrape_” is a trap, in French. You have a Trappist Monastery. I need say no more. During the Franco-Prussian War, Houdin’s neighbors brought their valuables to him to be concealed. He had a hiding place built which defied detection. But the Prussians never bothered him.

Says William Manning (_Recollections of Robert-Houdin_, London, 1891):

“Robert-Houdin’s employment of electricity, not only as a moving power for the performance of his illusions, but for domestic purposes, was long in advance of his time. The electric bell, so common to us now, was in every-day use _for years_ in his own house, before its value was recognized by the public.

“He had a favorite horse, named Fanny, for which he entertained great affection, and christened her ‘the friend of the family.’ She was of gentle disposition and was growing old in his service; so he was anxious to allow her every indulgence, especially punctuality at meals and full allowance of fodder.

“Such being the case, it was a matter of great surprise that Fanny grew daily thinner and thinner, till it was discovered that her groom had a great fancy for the art formerly practised by her master and converted her hay into five-franc pieces! So Houdin dismissed the groom and secured a more honest lad, but to provide against further contingencies and neglect of duty he had {154} a clock placed in his study, which with the aid of an electrical wire worked a food supply in the stable, a distance of fifty yards from the house. The distributing apparatus was a square funnel-shaped box which discharged the provender in prearranged quantities. No one could steal the oats from the horse after they had fallen, as the electric trigger could not act unless the stable door was locked. The lock was outside, and if any one entered before the horse finished eating his oats, a bell would immediately ring in the house.

“This same clock in his study also transmitted the time to two large clock-faces, placed one on the top of the house, the other on the gardener’s lodge, the former for the benefit of the villagers.

“In his bell-tower he had a clockwork arrangement of sufficient power to lift the hammer at the proper moment. The daily winding of the clock was performed automatically by communication with a swing-door in his kitchen, and the winding-up apparatus of the clock in the clock-tower was so arranged that the servants in passing backward and forward on their domestic duties unconsciously wound up the striking movement of the clock.”

The Priory is now a partial ruin. It has passed out of his family. Houdin died there June 13, 1871, after an illness of ten days. His death was caused by pneumonia. The following is an extract of the notice of his decease, taken from the registers of the civil authorities of St. Gervais:

“June 14, 1871. Notice of the death of Robert-Houdin, Jean-Eugène, died at St. Gervais, June 13, 1871, at 10 P. M., sixty-five years of age. Son of the defunct Prosper Robert and Marie Catherine Guillon; widower of his first wife Josephe Cecile Eglantine Houdin; married the second time to Françoise Marguerite Olympe Naconnier; Court House of St. Gervais, signed—The Mayor.” The signature is illegible.

William Manning was an intimate friend of Houdin. When the famous conjurer went to London to exhibit, he lodged at the house of Manning’s father. William was a young man at the time and deeply enamored with conjuring exhibitions. {155} Houdin showed him many favors and presented him with a number of souvenirs, among them being a magic clock, a harlequin-in-the-box, etc., also a photograph of himself, a copy of which Mr. Manning sent to me a few years ago, during the course of a correspondence I had with him concerning Houdin. Up to the time of his death the great conjurer exchanged letters with his friend, then a grown man. Houdin’s closing years were saddened by the tragic death of his son, Eugène, who was killed at Reichshoffen in the Franco-Prussian War. He was a sub-lieutenant in the French army and a graduate of the military school at St. Cyr. He assisted his father on the stage, but abandoned conjuring for a military career. In a letter to William Manning, dated September 11, 1870, Houdin describes the affair at Reichshoffen: . . . . “My son was 33 years old; he was captain since 1866; he belonged to the 1st Zouaves and was considered one of the bravest in that brave corps. You can judge of it by the following extract from an article in the _Figaro_, of Sept. 3, entitled ‘An episode of Reichshoffen,’ an extract from a private letter. This letter was undoubtedly written by a soldier in my son’s company; it is signed with an X. I omit the harrowing incidents which preceded this sad retreat. . . . ‘The line had received orders to break up and were defeated, 35,000 against 140,000! My company (1st Zouaves) was drawn up on the battle-field, to be used as sharp-shooters, alone, without artillery; we were to resist the retreat. Upon the order of Captain Robert-Houdin, Lieutenant Girard advanced with two men to reconnoitre the enemy. He took three steps, and fell, crying: ’_Do not give up the Coucou_, (a familiar expression applied to the flag). We carried him away and the Captain shouted ‘Fire!’ The order to retreat came, but we did not hear it, and continued to beat against a wall of fire which illuminated our ranks. Soon our Captain fell, saying: ‘Tell them . . . _that I fell facing the enemy_.’ A bullet had pierced his breast. He was taken in the ambulance to Reichshoffen where he died, four days later, from his wound.”

“My dear Manning, would you believe it, my brave son, mortally wounded as he was, had the heroic courage amidst {156} flying shot to take from his pocket a pencil and a card and to write these words: ‘Dear father, _I am wounded, but be reassured, it is only a trifle_.’ He could not sign this. The card and the envelope are stained with his blood. This precious relic was sent to me from Reichshoffen after my son’s death.”

(The signatures are those of Houdin and Hamilton.)]

Emile, the elder son who distinguished himself in the “Second-Sight Trick,” as soon as his father retired from the stage, became a watchmaker. He published a work on horology to which his father wrote the following preface:

“I have often been asked why my son did not follow the career I had opened for him in prestidigitation, but preferred instead the study of horology. My answer to the question may be used fitly as a preface to this pamphlet.

“If you believe in hereditary vocations, here is a case for their just application. My son’s maternal great-grandfather, Nicolas Houdin, was a watchmaker of great merit in the last century. J. F. Houdin, his son, has gained, as is well known, a prominent place among the most distinguished watchmakers of his time. A certain modesty, which you will understand, prevents me from praising my father as highly; I shall only say {157} that he was a very skilful and ingenious watchmaker. Before devoting myself to the art of conjuring, based on mechanism, I, too, was for a long time a watchmaker and achieved some success.

“With such genealogy, should one not be predestined to horology? Therefore my son was irresistibly drawn to his {158} vocation, and he took up the art which Berthoud and Bréguet have made famous. It was from the latter of the two celebrated masters that he learned the elements of the profession of his forefathers.”

Emile was subsequently induced to take up the magic wand, and in conjunction with Professor Brannet gave many clever entertainments. During his management the old theatre[22] in the Palais Royal was abandoned, and a new theatre erected on the Boulevard des Italiens. He held this property until his decease in 1883. The theatre was partly destroyed by fire, January 30, 1901, but was rebuilt.

[22] Houdin’s original theatre in the _Galerie de Valois_
of the Palais Royal has long ago been swallowed up in the
alterations made in the building. M. Trewey, in the spring
of 1905, met an old man, a former employee of the Palais,
who remembered seeing Houdin perform in 1845–46, but he
could not even locate the little theatre. How soon are
the glories of the past forgotten by a fickle public. The
theatre has been divided into two or three shops.

The only surviving members of the family are Madame Emile Robert-Houdin, widow of the elder son, and a daughter who is married to M. Lemaitre Robert-Houdin, a municipal officer of Blois, who has adopted the name of Houdin. Robert-Houdin is interred in the cemetery of Blois. A handsome monument marks his grave.

At the Paris Exhibition of 1844, Houdin was awarded a medal for the ingenious construction of automata; at the Exhibition of 1855 he received a gold medal for his scientific application of electricity to clocks. He invented an ophthalmoscope to enable the operator to examine the interior of his own eye. From important papers in the possession of M. Lemaitre it seems more than probable that Houdin had worked out the secret of the modern telephone before it had been made known to the world at large.

Houdin has been considered of such importance and interest in France that in Didot’s _Nouvelle Biographie Générale_ a whole page is given him. His personal appearance is thus described in Larousse’s _Encyclopédie_: “He was a man of small stature. His manners were engaging and vivacious. His face was clean-shaven, showing a large and eloquent mouth. In his old age, {159} his head was covered with snow white hair. His eyes up to the last retained the fire and brilliancy of a man of twenty-five.”

On December 6, 1905, the French Society of Magicians celebrated the hundredth anniversary of Houdin’s birth. The exercises were held at the Theatre Robert-Houdin, Boulevard des Italiens, Paris. The little theatre was crowded with conjurers and their friends. Among the wielders of the magic staff were Caroly, the editor of _Illusioniste_, M. and Mme. de Gago, Folletto, M. and Mme. Talazac, and M. Raynaly. M. and Mme. Talazac, in their “mind-reading” act, evoked great applause. M. Miliès, the manager of the house, exhibited the automaton, “Antonio Diavolo,” invented by Robert-Houdin. M. Renaly, the well-known drawing-room conjurer, read a poem in honor of the great master, at the close of which a bust of Robert-Houdin, which stood upon the stage, was crowned with a wreath of laurel. Strange to say, not a word of this interesting event was recorded in the newspapers.

Houdin was the first conjurer to be employed in an official capacity by a civilized Power. The second case we have record of was on the occasion of the English Mission to the late Sultan of Morocco when Mr. Douglas Beaufort was appointed conjurer to the party by the British Government. The object was to surprise the Arabs with the skill of an Anglo-Saxon prestidigitateur. During the journey to Fez from the coast, Mr. Beaufort gave a number of séances. The news of his necromantic powers soon spread like wild-fire among the natives. When the Embassy reached the Arab Capital, the Sultan refused to see the “Devil Man,” as he termed the conjurer. He imagined that the British proposed to cast a spell over him. For eight weeks he held out, but finally curiosity got the better of him. The Grand Vizier was ordered to produce the Disciple of Beelzebub at the Royal Palace. The performance of Mr. Beaufort so delighted the ruler of Morocco that he presented him with a silver dagger, a fine Arabian steed from the royal stable, and a bag containing 500 dollars, as a token of esteem and regard.

{160}

SOME OLD-TIME CONJURERS.

“As in Agrippa’s magic glass,
The loved and lost arose to view.”—WHITTIER: _The Mermaid_.

I love to read about the old-time conjurers, the contemporaries of Robert-Houdin, or his immediate successors. Literature on the subject is very sparse indeed. In his memoirs, Houdin gives us a few thumbnail sketches of his rivals in the mystic art, and then dismisses them with a kindly, _Vale_. He has something to say about Bosco’s personal appearance and performances, but makes no mention of the romantic incidents in the great magician’s career. I shall try, in this chapter, to sketch the lives of some of these men, basing my information on rare _brochures_ contained in the Ellison Library, and from information picked up by Mr. Harry Houdini in Europe. The great encyclopedic dictionary of Larousse—a monument of French erudition—contains something about Phillippe, Robin and Comte. Mr. Ellis Stanyon, a conjurer of London, and author of several valuable little treatises on magic, has kindly furnished me with interesting data; the files of old newspapers in the British Museum, and the Library of Congress have also been drawn upon, also the fine collection of old programmes of Mr. Arthur Margery, the English magician. Let us begin with

COMTE.

Louis Apollinaire Comte was a magician of great skill, a mimic and ventriloquist. He was born in Geneva, Switzerland, June 22, 1788, and died at Rueil, France, November 25, 1859. On one occasion he was denounced by some superstitious Swiss peasants as a sorcerer, set upon and beaten with clubs, and was {161} about to be thrown into a lime kiln. His ventriloquial powers saved his life. He caused demoniacal voices to proceed from the kiln, whereupon his tormentors fled from the spot in affright, imagining that they were addressed by the Powers of Darkness.

When summoned to appear before Louis XVIII, at the palace of the Tuilleries, Comte arranged a clever mystification to amuse his royal patron. During the course of the entertainment he requested the king to select a card from a pack. By his address, he caused the monarch to draw the king of hearts. Placing the card in a pistol, Comte fired it at a bouquet of flowers on a table, declaring that the pasteboard would appear in the bouquet. Immediately, a bust of the king was seen among the flowers.

“What does this mean?” said Louis XVIII, with a sarcastic smile. “I fancy, sir, your trick has not ended as you stated.”

“I beg your Majesty’s pardon,” Comte replied, with a profound bow. “I have quite kept my promise. I pledged myself that the king of hearts should appear in that bouquet of flowers, and I appeal to all Frenchmen whether that bust does not represent _the king of all hearts_.

The experiment was applauded to the echo by those present. The _Royal Journal_ of the 20th of December, 1814, thus describes the affair.

“The whole audience exclaimed in reply to M. Comte, ‘We recognize him—it is he—the king of all hearts! the beloved of the French—of the whole universe—Louis XVIII, the august descendant of Henri Quatre?’

“The king, much affected by these warm acclamations, complimented M. Comte on his skill.

“ ‘It would be a pity,’ he said to him, ‘to order such a talented sorcerer to be burnt alive. You have caused us too much pleasure for us to cause you pain. Live many years, for yourself in the first place, and then for us.’ ”

Comte was an adept at the art of flattery. Perhaps all the while, he and the fickle courtiers of the Tuilleries were secretly laughing at the poor old Bourbon king, the scion of a race that had all but ruined France, and were wishing back from Elba that Thunderbolt of War—Napoleon the Great. {162}

Comte was made a Chevalier of the Legion of Honor by Louis Philippe.

PHILLIPPE.

Phillippe [Talon] was born at Alais, near Nimes (France). He carried on the trade of confectioner first in Paris, afterwards in Aberdeen, Scotland. Failing to make a success of the sugar business, he adopted conjuring as a profession, and was remarkably successful. He was assisted by a young Scotchman named Macalister, who on the stage appeared as a negro, “Domingo.” Macalister, a clever mechanic, invented many of the best things in Phillippe’s repertoire. From some Chinese jugglers, Phillippe learned the gold-fish trick and the Chinese rings. With these capital experiments added to his programme, he repaired to Paris, in 1841, and made a great hit. Habited like a Chinaman, he performed them in a scene called “A night in the palace of Pekin.” The fish trick he ostentatiously named “Neptune’s Basins, and the Gold Fish.” The bowls of water containing the fish he produced from shawls while standing on a low table. He followed this with a production of rabbits, pigeons, ducks, and chickens.

Robert-Houdin in his memoirs, gives a brief but pointed sketch of Phillippe. On page 163 I reproduce one of his unique programmes (London, March, 1846).

NEW STRAND THEATRE Lessee, M. PHILLIPPE, 4 Strand Lane

TRIUMPHANT SUCCESS

PHILLIPPE’s SOIRÉES MYSTÉRIEUSES

The Entertainments will commence with M. PHILLIPPE’s Celebrated
and Unrivalled TOURS DE PHYSIQUE AND ASTOUNDING FEATS OF MAGICAL
DELUSION! Which he has exhibited in Paris, Vienna, Berlin, St.
Petersburgh, and before all the Courts of Europe, with truly
unparalleled Success.

THE ENTERTAINMENT WILL BE DIVIDED INTO TWO PARTS

PART FIRST Will comprise peculiar and unequalled Metamorphoses and Delusions! And Astonishing Deceptions!

INCLUDING

The Miller of Amsterdam The Obedient Cards Il Diavolo The Rose Tree of Granada The Flying Watches The Modern Confectioner The Enchanted Handkerchief The Grand Distribution The Accomplished Harlequin New Method of Making Coffee

Concluding with the universally admired and elegant Tour d’Addresse, entitled THE NATIONAL FLAG

There will be an interval of Fifteen Minutes between the Parts

PART SECOND

A NIGHT IN THE PALACE OF PEKIN!

In which Mons. PHILLIPPE will perform some of the most
Extraordinary and Startling INDIAN AND CHINESE EXPERIMENTS Ever
attempted by any European, comprising

The Turtle Dove and the Flying Handkerchiefs La Fille des Fleurs Kitchen of Parapharagaramus PAS DE CARACTERE BY La Fille des Fleurs The Inexhaustible Hat

And concluding with the celebrated DELUSION Les Bassins de Neptune
et les Poissons d’or AND THE GRAND MENAGERIE!

Unanimously pronounced to be the most inexplicable and surprising
Tour de Physique ever witnessed

ROBIN.

Henri Robin was a Hollander by birth, his real name being Dunkell. He was born about 1805 and died in Paris in 1874. Although he had appeared before the public many times and his talents as a prestidigatateur had long been recognized, it was not until the end of 1862, when he opened his theatre in Paris, that he became a celebrity and a household word in the country of his adoption. He was a man of distinguished appearance, very urbane, and possessed of a sparkling wit. His handsome little _salle de spectacle_, known as the Theatre Robin,[23] was situated on {164} the Boulevard du Temple. Porcelain medallions ornamented the walls, representing Archimides, Galileo, Palissy, Vaucanson, Franklin, Volta, Newton, Daguerre, Arago, Cuvier, Robertson, Humboldt, Comte, and Cagliostro. Of these great men only Vaucanson, Robertson, and Cagliostro could properly be classed as magicians. Vaucanson was a builder of ingenious automata; Robertson the creator of optical illusions; and Cagliostro a pretender to sorcery, who made use of hypnotism and phantasmagoria in his séances. But science has its wizards, in one sense of the word, and so Robin included the great pioneers of scientific research among his galaxy of wonder-workers.

[23] This theatre was demolished at the time of the
enlargement of the Place de Chateau d’Eau.

The journal _La France_ said in its issue of January 19, 1863: “The stage is large and square in form, the curtain rises upon {165} a brilliantly lighted salon showing much gilding, filled with strange objects, electrical apparatus of all sizes, mysterious chests, revolving tables, articulated animals which as far surpass the automatons of Vaucanson as an Everard or Pleyel piano is superior to an old fashioned spinet. There were peacocks which paraded up and down and could tell you the name of any city you might think of; drums which beat the retreat without a drummer; Christmas trees which shook their branches, powdered with snow, and covered themselves with lighted candles, bonbons, flowers and toys; inexhaustible bottles, invisible bells, etc. Altogether it was the strange, supernatural and fantastic world of prestidigitation, magic and sorcery.

* * * * *

“All at once, from the bottom of a magic casket, leaped out a harlequin about ten inches high but so well proportioned in its figure, so well made, so nimble and supple, so intelligent and _spirituel_, that the whole audience uttered a cry of pleasure and admiration. This pretty little manikin does everything belonging to its character. It dances, smokes, frisks about, takes off and puts on its mask, bows to the company and plays the flageolet. One is tempted to say—‘it only needs speech to be human.’ Well, it has speech. It talks and answers all questions addressed to it like a real person. It even tells stories, making them up as it goes along.”

Besides the show of magic an “agioscope” was to be seen which projected upon a screen the history of creation in forty-five pictures. Robin also performed experiments in physics and chemistry and an exhibition of the ghost illusion closed the entertainment.

Robin and Robert-Houdin were at odds about the inexhaustible bottle which each claimed to have invented. Robert-Houdin declared that he had exhibited it for the first time on December 1, 1847, while Robin produced his “Almanach of Cagliostro,” showing the trick of the inexhaustible bottle which he declares he had invented and exhibited for the first time July 6, 1844, at the theatre Re at Milan. Nevertheless in all their lectures {166} on physics, scientific men explain to their hearers the operation of the Robert-Houdin bottle.[24]

[24] “It is remarkable how many of the illusions regarded
as the original inventions of eminent conjurers have been
really improvements of older tricks. ‘Hocus Pocus Junior,’
_the Anatomy of Legerdemain_ (4th edition, 1654), gives an
explanatory cut of a method of drawing different liquors
out of a single tap in a barrel, the barrel being divided
into compartments, each having an air-hole at the top,
by means of which the liquor in any of the compartments
was withheld or permitted to flow. Robert-Houdin applied
the principle to a wine-bottle held in his hand, from
which he could pour four different liquids, regulated by
the unstopping of any of the four tiny air holes which
were covered by his fingers. A large number of very small
liquor glasses being provided on trays, and containing
drops of certain flavoring essences, enabled him to
supply imitations of various wines and liquors, according
to the glasses with which he poured syrup from the
bottle.”—_Encyclopedia Britannica._

When the Davenport Brothers, pretended spiritualists, came to Paris, Robin duplicated all their tricks at his theatre. He did much to discredit the charlatans. About 1869 he gave up his theatre, and became the proprietor of a hotel on the Boulevard Mazas.

Robin left three works, copies of which are very rare, viz: _L’Almanach Illustré de Cagliostro; Histoire des Spectres Vivants et Impalpables; Secret de la Physique Amusante_ (Paris, 1864). He was also the inventor of a railroad for ascending Mount Rigi in Switzerland. The motor in this system was a balloon which, by its ascentional force compelled the car to climb the ascent guided by four iron rails. A model of this contrivance was exhibited at Robin’s theatre, 49 Boulevard du Temple.

BOSCO.

I look again into the magic mirror of the past. Who is this portly figure enveloped in a befrogged military cloak? He has the mobile visage of an Italian. There is an air of pomposity about him. His eyes are bold and piercing. He has something of the appearance of a Russian nobleman, or general under the Empire. Ah, that is the renowned Bosco, the conjurer!

(From a Rare Engraving in the Possession of Dr. Saram R. Ellison, New York City.)]

Bartolomeo Bosco had an adventurous career.[25] He was born in Turin, Italy, January 11, 1793. He came of a noble family of Piedmont. At the age of nineteen he was one of the {167} victims caught in the meshes of the great military drag-net of Napoleon I, that fisher for men. In other words, he became “food for powder” in the Russian campaign of the Emperor of France. He was a fusilier in the 11th infantry of the line. At the battle of Borodino, in an encounter with Cossacks, Bosco was badly wounded in the side by a lance, and fell upon the ground. A son of the Cossack lancer who had wounded him, {168} dismounted and began to rifle his pockets. Like all soldiers on a campaign, Bosco carried his fortune with him. It did not amount to very much: a watch, a keepsake from a sweetheart, a few gold pieces, a tobacco pouch, etc. Fearing to receive the _coup de grace_ from his enemy, he pretended to be dead. But on realizing that if he were robbed of his money he would be left destitute in the world, he put his abilities as a conjurer to work and dexterously picked the Cossack’s pocket of a well-filled purse. It was a case of Greek meeting Greek. The Russian, grumbling, perhaps, at the paucity of his ill-gotten plunder, finally mounted his horse and rode away after his comrades, to discover later on that he had been _done_ and by a corpse. Later in the day Bosco was picked up from the battlefield by the Russian medical corps, and his wounds treated. He was sent a captive to Siberia, near the town of Tobolsk. His talent for _escamotage_ served him well. The long winter evenings of his captivity when the snow lay deep upon the earth, and the wind howled about the prison walls, were spent by him either amusing his jailors or his fellow-soldiers. He sometimes gave exhibitions of his skill before the high officials of the place, thereby picking up considerable money. He spent his earnings generously upon his poorer brethren. Finally, in April, 1814, he was released. He returned to Italy, to the great delight of his friends, and studied medicine. Eventually he abandoned the art of Esculapias for the art of Trismegistus and became a professional conjurer.

[25] _Cabinetto magico del Cavalieri Bartolomeo Bosco de
Torino._ Milano, 1854.

Bosco was a wonderful performer of the cup-and-ball trick. He also possessed great skill with cards and coins. He traveled all over Europe. He gave an exhibition before Marie Louise, the widow of Napoleon I, on the 27th of April, 1836. His sonorous, bizarre name has become a byword in France for deception, whether in conjuring or politics. The statesman Thiers was called the “Bosco of the Tribune.” Many of Bartolomeo Bosco’s imitators assumed his cognomen. At the present day there is a French magician touring the music halls of Europe, who calls himself Bosco. The original Bosco, like Alexander Herrmann, was in the habit of advertising himself by giving impromptu exhibitions of his skill in cafés, stage {169} coaches, hotels, etc. He was wonderfully clever at this. A Parisian newspaper thus announced one of his entertainments: “The famous Bosco, who can conjure away a house as easily as a nutmeg, is about to give his performances at Paris, in which some miraculous tricks will be executed.” This illusion to the nutmeg has reference to the magician’s cup-and-ball trick; nutmegs frequently being used instead of cork balls. Houdin describes Bosco’s stage as follows:

“I entered the little theatre and took my seat. According to the idea I had formed of a magician’s laboratory, I expected to find myself before a curtain whose large folds, when withdrawn, would display before my dazzled eyes a brilliant stage ornamented with apparatus worthy of the celebrity announced; but my illusions on this subject soon faded away.

“A curtain had been considered superfluous, and the stage was open. Before me was a long three-storied sideboard, entirely covered with black serge. This lugubrious buffet was adorned with a number of wax candles, among which glistened the apparatus. At the topmost point of this strange _étagère_ was a death’s-head, much surprised, I have no doubt, at finding itself at such a festival, and it quite produced the effect of a funeral service.

“In front of the stage, and near the spectators, was a table covered by a brown cloth, reaching to the ground, on which five brass cups were symmetrically arranged. Finally, above this table hung a copper ball, which strangely excited my curiosity.

“For the life of me I could not imagine what this was for, so I determined to wait till Bosco came to explain it. The silvery sound of a small bell put an end to my reverie, and Bosco appeared upon the stage.

“The artiste wore a little black velvet jacket, fastened round the waist by a leathern belt of the same color. His sleeves were excessively short, and displayed a handsome arm. He had on loose black trousers, ornamented at the bottom with a ruche of lace, and a large white collar round his neck. This strange attire bore considerable resemblance to the classical costume of the Scapins in our plays. {170}

“After making a majestic bow to his audience, the celebrated conjurer walked silently and with measured steps up to the famous copper ball. After convincing himself it was solidly hung, he took up his wand, which he wiped with a white handkerchief, as if to remove any foreign influence; then, with imperturbable gravity, he struck the ball thrice with it, pronouncing, amid the most solemn silence, this imperious sentence: _Spiriti mei infernali, obedite_. {171}

(From a Photograph in the Possession of Dr. Saram R. Ellison, New York City.)]

“I, like a simpleton, scarce breathed in my expectation of some miraculous result, but it was only an innocent pleasantry, a simple introduction to the performance with the cups.”

After many wanderings Bartolomeo Bosco laid down his magic wand in Dresden, March 2, 1862. He lies buried in a cemetery on Friederichstrasse. Mr. Harry Houdini, the American conjurer, located the grave on October 23, 1903. Upon the tombstone is carved the insignia of Bosco’s profession—a cup-and-ball and a wand. They are encircled by a wreath of laurel. Says Mr. Houdini, in a letter to _Mahatma_: “I found the head of the wand missing. Looking into the tall grass near by I discovered the broken tip.” This relic he presented to Dr. Saram R. Ellison, of New York (1904). The tombstone bears the following inscription: _Ici répose le célèbre Bartolomeo Bosco . . . Ne à Turin le 11 Janvier, 1793; décédé à Dresden le 2 Mars, 1862._ Madame Bosco was interred in the same grave with her husband, but no mention of her is made on the stone. The small plot of ground where the grave is situated was leased for a term of years. That term had long expired when Mr. Houdini discovered the last resting place of Bosco. It was offered for sale. In the event of its purchase the remains of the conjurer and his wife would have been transferred to a section of the cemetery set apart for the neglected dead. But Houdini prevented all future possibility of this by buying the lot in fee. He then deeded it to the Society of American Magicians.

ANDERSON.

John Henry Anderson was born in Aberdeenshire, Scotland, July 14, 1814. He began life as an actor. After witnessing a performance in England by Signor Blitz, his mind was struck with the resources of magic as a means of entertaining the public, and adding to his own exchequer. So he abandoned the histrionic stage for conjuring, though he occasionally performed in melodrama as a side issue. He was very fine in the title rôle of “Rob Roy,” and as William, in “Black-eyed Susan.” His professional sobriquet in his early career was that of the “Calidonian Necromancer.” On one occasion he gave an exhibition {172} of his skill at Abbotsford, and the genial Sir Walter Scott said to him, “They call _me_ the ‘Wizard of the North,’ but this is a mistake—it is you, not I, who best deserve the title.” Mr. Anderson was not slow in adopting the suggestion of the Wizard of the Pen, and ever after called himself the Great Wizard of the North.

He displayed a great collection of apparatus, which he described as “a most gorgeous and costly apparatus of solid silver, the mysterious mechanical construction of which is upon a secret principle, hitherto unknown in Europe.” He claimed to have been the inventor of the gun trick, but this was not so, as Torrini and others exhibited it on the Continent in the latter {173} part of the 18th century. All that Anderson did was to invent his own peculiar method of working the illusion. “The extraordinary mystery of the trick,” he said, “is not effected by the aid of any accomplice, or by inserting a tube in the muzzle of the gun, or by other conceivable devices (as the public frequently, and in some instances, correctly imagine), but any gentleman may really load the gun in the usual manner, inserting, himself, a marked real leaden ball! The gun being then fired off at the Wizard, he will instantly produce and exhibit the same bullet in his hand.” The marked leaden bullet, however, was exchanged for one composed of an amalgam of tinfoil and quicksilver, which was as heavy as lead, but was broken into bits and dispersed in firing. He once played a private engagement at the Winter Palace, St. Petersburg, before the Czar Nicholas and a brilliant audience of Grand Dukes and Grand Duchesses. His exhibition of second sight was an excellent one. He was asked by the Czar to describe the watch he had in his pocket. To the profound astonishment of the Emperor, Anderson announced that it was encircled with one hundred and twenty brilliants around its face, and a portrait on enamel of the Emperor Paul at the back. He also said that the watch carried by the Empress did not go, which was a fact, it being a very old one, a relic of Peter the Great. It was only worn as an ornament. The wizard never claimed supernatural powers. He undoubtedly obtained his information about the chronometers from some member of the Czar’s household, and worked upon the imagination and credulity of the spectators.

Anderson had an indomitable spirit which no misfortune could daunt. He received the “bludgeonings of Fate” like a hero, and was “Captain of his soul” through a thousand and one vicissitudes of life. He built on Glasgow Green one of the largest theatres in Scotland, and it was burnt to the ground, three months after its erection. A fortune was lost in the terrible fire. In 1851 he came to America and met with unbounded success. Returning to England in 1856, he engaged Covent Garden Theatre. In March of that year this great play-house was destroyed by fire, and Anderson lost his splendid and costly {174} apparatus. On top of this disaster came the bankruptcy of the Royal British Bank, and that event completely swallowed up the remains of the wizard’s fortune. But he was undaunted. Borrowing funds from his friends, he bought new paraphernalia, and toured the world. After an absence of five years he returned to England, January 11, 1863. He had traveled 235,000 miles and “had passed through his hands the enormous sum of £157,000 sterling.” He died at Darlington, Scotland, on Tuesday, February 3, 1874. In accordance with a wish expressed during his last illness, he was buried at Aberdeen, in the same grave with his beloved mother. No inscription on the tombstone records the fact that the Wizard of the North lies beneath.

What was the secret of Anderson’s success?

He was not a great magician in the sense of the word—that is to say, an adept at legerdemain, an original creative genius like Houdin, Robin, and the elder Herrmann. But he was an actor who played the role of necromancer with great effect. He surrounded himself with costly and brilliant apparatus which dazzled the eyes of the groundlings. His baggage weighed tons and filled many trunks and boxes. He believed in heavy artillery, like Napoleon I. The dashing Hussar style was not his. That branch of conjuring belongs to Frikell and De Kolta. Strange to say, in spite of the revolution in the art of magic since Anderson’s day, we are coming back to the big paraphernalia of the old school. The public is tired of small tricks. A discussion of this subject will be found in the article on Frikell.

I doubt whether a greater advertiser than Anderson ever lived. Bosco cannot be compared to him. Alexander Herrmann depended on his social qualities and his laughable adventures in street cars, cafés, and clubs to boom his reputation. Anderson adopted the methods of the patent-medicine manufacturers. He would have made an excellent advance agent for a new panacea. He literally plastered the streets and walls of London with his advertising devices. Some of them were highly ingenious and amusing and kept the public on the _qui vive_ with excitement. In this line of puffing, people are willing to overlook charlatanry. One of his posters was a caricature imitation of the famous {175} painting, “Napoleon’s Return from Elba.” It was of gigantic size. Houdin describes it and other advertising schemes as follows:

“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 skillful puffer’s pockets.

“When Anderson is about to leave a town where he has exhausted all his resources, and has nothing more to hope, he still contrives to make one more enormous haul.

“He orders from the first jeweller in the town a silver vase, worth twenty or twenty-five pounds; he hires, for one evening only, the largest theatre or room in the town, and announces that in the Wizard’s parting performance the spectators will compete to make the best pun.

“The silver vase is to be the prize of the victor.

“A jury is chosen among the chief people of the town to decide with the public on the merits of each pun.

“It is agreed that they will applaud if they think a pun good; they will say nothing to a passable one, but groan at a bad one.

“The room is always crowded, for people come less to see the performance, which they know by heart, than to display their wit publicly. Each makes his jest, and receives a greeting more or less favorable; and, lastly, the vase is decreed to the cleverest among them. {176}

“Any other than Anderson would be satisfied with the enormous receipts his performance produces; but the Great Wizard of the North has not finished yet. Before the audience leaves the house he states that a short-hand writer has been hired by him to take down all the puns, and that they will be published as a Miscellany.

“As each spectator who has made a joke likes to see it in print, he purchases a copy of the book for a shilling. An idea of the number of these copies may be formed from the number of puns they contain. I have one of these books in my possession, printed in Glasgow in 1850, in which there are 1091 of these facetiæ.”

Here is one of Anderson’s typical programmes, dated 1854:

MUSIC HALL, LEEDS

VICTORY!!

20,139 of the inhabitants of Leeds have SURRENDERED to Marshal
Professor Anderson during the past Fortnight.

LAST 11 NIGHTS
OF THE GREAT WIZARD

EXCITEMENT EXTRAORDINARY!

ALL LEEDS MORE ASTONISHED THAN THE
RUSSIANS WERE AT SEBASTOPOL!

☛ In order to avoid being incommoded, Visitors to the Front Seats
are respectfully requested to secure places at the Hall during the
day.

PROFESSOR ANDERSON

Begs respectfully to inform the inhabitants of Leeds, that in
consequence of having made arrangements to perform in St. George’s
Hall, Bradford, on Monday, October 23rd, he cannot possibly appear
in Leeds after Saturday, October 21st.—The following will be the
order of

The Last Eleven Days of Wonders

This Evening, MONDAY, Oct. 9th, 1854, LAST NIGHT but 10.
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 10th, LAST NIGHT BUT 9.
WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 11th, LAST NIGHT BUT 8.
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 12th, LAST NIGHT BUT 7.
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 13th, LAST NIGHT BUT 6.
SATURDAY, OCTOBER 14th, LAST NIGHT BUT 5.
MONDAY, OCTOBER 16th, LAST NIGHT BUT 4.
TUESDAY, OCTOBER 17th, LAST NIGHT BUT 3.
(Wednesday, October 18th, No Performance, the Hall being pre-engaged.)
THURSDAY, OCTOBER 19th, LAST NIGHT BUT 2.
FRIDAY, OCTOBER 20th, LAST NIGHT BUT 1.
And SATURDAY, OCTOBER 21st, THE LAST GRAND AND FINAL
FAREWELL NIGHT! {177}

☛ REMEMBER you cannot look upon his like again!

PROGRAMME

Professor Anderson begs to inform his Patrons that his
performances are not Superhuman, as supposed, but the result of
Science, applied in a new way to produce the delusive results,
in connection with his Ambidexterological Powers, which make the
“Eyes the fools o’ the other senses,” and will this evening be the
“Head and front of his offending.”

THE ANNIHILATION AND RECUPERATION
OR GRAND HYDRAULIC EXPERIMENT,
THE SCRAP BOOK
With Original and Yankee Scraps showing the Economy of Space.
SECOND SIGHT, OR CLAIRVOYANCE
With the Crystal Casket, vulgarly called the Devil’s Box.
THE GREAT CHEMICAL ANALYSIS with Evaporating Handkerchiefs
OH! MY HAT!
Great Pot Pourri of Handkerchiefs in the Magic Laundry, and
THAT BOTTLE
BRANDY, SCOTCH WHISKEY, GENEVA,
IRISH WHISKEY, RUM, ENGLISH GIN,
The New Cradle, or Mesmeric Sleep,
Strongly recommended for the Nursery, where there are “squalls.”

INTERVAL OF TEN MINUTES

During the Interval, the Wizard’s Handbook of Magic, price
1s., with an explanation of upwards of 250 Magical Delusions,
an Exposee of Gambling, Spirit Rapping, Table Turning, &c.,
illustrated with upwards of 100 Diagrams, &c., showing the
construction of the necessary Apparatus; ALSO, The Wizard
in Paris, being Professor Anderson’s Narrative of a Recent Visit
to the French Capital, descriptive of the place, and throwing new
light upon the people.—A guide for all who are going there, and
a pleasant book for those who have been. May be had of Professor
Anderson’s Assistants

The Wizard will again enter his “PSYCHOMANTEUM,” and commence Part
Two with his Great

MECHANICAL AUTOMATON
Or FORTUNE TELLER, in connection with the SPIRIT RAPPING BELL and
TABLE!

Although the Wizard is not a great Orator or Lecturer, he will
deliver a few remarks on what is called

SPIRITUALISM!
Or Humbug of the First Water, proving that there are still greater
humbugs in England than himself, for which he is very sorry, he
thinking that he was the Ne Plus Ultra in that particular line of
business.

ANIMAL MAGNETISM?

THE GREAT WATCH WONDER

Proving the thickness of some skulls, with the Astounding Miracle,
“Anderson’s” (not Pandora’s) Box. The whole of
this Unparalleled Entertainment will conclude with the

Magic Evaporation, or Disappearance Extraordinary

{178}

BLITZ.

Signor Antonio Blitz was born June 21, 1810, in a little village of Moravia. At an early age he picked up, unknown to anyone, “a few adroit tricks from certain gypsies, who visited his native town.” He began to exhibit these feats for the amusement of himself and friends. He made his professional début at Hamburg when but thirteen years of age, and was known to the public as the “mysterious boy.” His first appearance in this country was at the Music Hall, Broadway, New York. He had many imitators. Not less than thirteen people traveled the United States using his name, circulating a verbatim copy of his handbill and advertisement—“not only assuming to be the _original_ Blitz, but in many instances claiming to be a son or nephew.” “I have been,” says Blitz, in his memoirs, _Fifty Years in the Magic Circle_, (Hartford, Conn., 1871), “in constant receipt of bills of their contracting, for, not content with taking my name, they have not even honor enough to pay their debts.” The thirteen impostors exhibited under the following and other names: