CHAPTER I.

Transcriber’s Notes:

Small capitals in the printed works have been transcribed as ALL

CAPITALS. Text printed in italics has been transcribed _between

underscores_. Depending on the hard- and software used to read this text

and their settings, not all characters may display as intended.

More Transcriber’s Notes may be found at the end of this text.

[Illustration: THE SKIRT DANCE.]

MAGIC

STAGE ILLUSIONS AND SCIENTIFIC DIVERSIONS

INCLUDING TRICK PHOTOGRAPHY

COMPILED AND EDITED BY

ALBERT A. HOPKINS

EDITOR OF THE “SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN CYCLOPEDIA OF RECEIPTS, NOTES AND

QUERIES,” ETC.

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY

HENRY RIDGELY EVANS

AUTHOR OF “HOURS WITH THE GHOSTS; OR, XIX. CENTURY WITCHCRAFT,” ETC.

_WITH FOUR HUNDRED ILLUSTRATIONS_

LONDON

SAMPSON LOW, MARSTON AND COMPANY

_LIMITED_

St. Dunstan’s House,

FETTER LANE, FLEET STREET, E.C.

1897

COPYRIGHT, 1897, BY

MUNN & CO.

NEW YORK

ENTERED AT STATIONERS’ HALL, LONDON, ENGLAND

_All rights reserved_

The articles used from the SCIENTIFIC AMERICAN and the SCIENTIFIC

AMERICAN SUPPLEMENT

are copyrighted

Printed in the U. S. A. by

J. J. Little & Co., New York City

PREFACE.

It is believed that the present work occupies a unique field in the

extensive literature of magic. There are already a large number of

treatises on natural magic and legerdemain, but in most of them very

little attention has been given to the _exposé_ of stage illusions,

which are of great interest as they are so largely based on ingenious

applications of scientific principles. Optics, mechanics, sound, and

electricity have all been pressed into service by the _fin de siècle_

prestidigitateur. In the present work great attention has been paid to

elaborate tricks of this nature, and in many cases the _exposés_ have

been obtained from the prestidigitateurs themselves. In the first few

chapters many of the best illusions of Robert-Houdin, Dr. Lynn,

Professor Pepper, Bautier de Kolta, Heller, Herrmann, Maskelyne and

Cooke, and Kellar will be found clearly explained.

Conjuring tricks have been by no means neglected, but the number of them

which are given has been limited, owing to the fact that many of the

books on magic have gone into this subject quite extensively.

Ventriloquism, shadowgraphy, mental magic, etc., will also be found

treated in the present work.

The chapters relating to “Ancient Magic” take up the temple tricks of

the ancient Egyptian, Greek, and Roman thaumaturgists, as well as a

number of automata which are very interesting in view of their very

early epoch. It is believed this will be found a particularly

entertaining feature of the book.

There is always a great charm about the stage, and the methods of

producing the effects which give realism to the drama. The chapters

devoted to “Theatrical Science” will be found to contain a very large

number of effects and illusions, many of which are here presented for

the first time. Thus an entire opera, “Siegfried,” is taken up, and the

methods by which the wonderful effects are obtained are fully

illustrated and described. Such amusements as cycloramas, the nautical

arena, and fireworks with dramatic accessories are not neglected.

The chapters on “Automata” and “Curious Toys” describe many interesting

tricks and mechanisms of an amusing nature.

The last few chapters of the book deal with “Photographic Diversions,”

and here will be found some of the most curious and interesting tricks

and deceptions which may be performed by the aid of photography. The

practical side of scientific photography will also be found represented.

The chapter on “Chronophotography” describes the photography of moving

objects of all kinds, and shows how the results obtained are of value to

the savant. The projection of moving pictures upon a screen is

thoroughly treated, a number of different forms of the apparatus being

described.

The introduction is a unique feature of the work, being written by Mr.

Henry Ridgely Evans, of Washington, D. C., author of “Hours with the

Ghosts; or, Nineteenth Century Witchcraft.” It contains a brief but

remarkably complete history of magic art from the earliest times to the

present date, especial attention being given to amusing incidents in the

careers of celebrated necromancers. This Introduction will be found one

of the most entertaining parts of the present book. Mr. Evans has also

contributed two chapters--one on “Shadowgraphy,” or “Treweyism,” as it

has been called, in honor of M. Félician Trewey, the classic exponent of

the art; the other on “Mental Magic,” or second-sight experiments. The

chapter on “Shadowgraphy” is not only interesting because of the

_exposé_ of the art of theatrical silhouette-making, but on account of

the sketch of the life and adventures of M. Trewey, who is a personal

friend of the writer. Mr. Evans is also the compiler of the excellent

Bibliography which concludes the book. Though this Bibliography makes no

pretense to absolute completeness, it is believed to be more extensive

than any other bibliography of the subject, and it will be found of

great value to the student of psychology, as well as to the student of

modern magic. Other acknowledgments are due to Mr. William E. Robinson,

the well-known prestidigitateur, for many suggestions and favors and for

important help in connection with the Bibliography; Mr. Robinson having

a very remarkable collection of books upon magic, which he has gathered

at home and abroad during a long period. We are also indebted to Mr. H.

J. Burlingame, of Chicago, for permission to use extracts from his

writings and for assistance in the Bibliography.

The matter for the present work is very largely compiled from articles

which have appeared in the “Scientific American” and the “Scientific

American Supplement,” with the addition of much material hitherto

unpublished. Especial acknowledgments are due to our French and German

contemporaries, particularly “_La Nature_.” The section on “Ancient

Magic” is taken almost wholly from the articles of Colonel A. de Rochas

in “_La Nature_.” These articles were afterwards amplified by him and

published in a most interesting book entitled “_Les Origines de la

Science_.” It is hoped that the present work will prove entertaining to

those who are fond of the _art magique_.

NEW YORK, _September, 1897_.

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

INTRODUCTION.

_THE MYSTERIES OF MODERN MAGIC._

PAGE

Ancient Magic--Division of Magic--Cagliostro--Robertson--Comte de

Grisi--Robert-Houdin--Carl Herrmann--Signor Blitz--Robert Heller

--Alexander Herrmann--Bautier de Kolta--Harry Kellar, 1

BOOK I.

_CONJURERS’ TRICKS AND STAGE ILLUSIONS._

CHAPTER I.

MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCES.

“Vanity Fair”--“After the Flood”--“The Magic Palanquin”--

“Cassadaga Propaganda”--“The Appearing Lady”--“The Disappearing

Lady”--“The Mysterious Trunk”--“The Indian Basket Trick”--

“Decapitation”--“Spiritualistic Ties,” 27

CHAPTER II.

OPTICAL TRICKS.

The “Cabaret du Neant”--The Three-Headed Woman--“Amphitrite”--

“The Mystery of Dr. Lynn”--“Black Art”--The Talking Head--The

Living Half-Woman--“She”--“The Queen of Flowers”--The

“Decapitated Princess”--“Stella”--Houdin’s Magic Cabinet--A

Mystic Maze--Platinized Glass--Statue giving a Double Image, 55

CHAPTER III.

MISCELLANEOUS STAGE TRICKS.

“Trilby”--The “Haunted Swing”--The “Scurimobile”--The

Neoöccultism--“The Mask of Balsamo”--The Invisible Woman--Magic

Harps, 89

CHAPTER IV.

CONJURING TRICKS.

Trick with an Egg and a Handkerchief--The Cone of Flowers--The

Magic Rosebush--“Magic Flowers”--The “Birth of Flowers”--Tricks

with a Hat--A Cake Baked in a Hat--The Egg and Hat Trick--

Multiplication of Coins--Magic Coins--The Dissolving Coin--The

Spirit Slates--Second Sight--Magic Cabinets--The Traveling Bottle

and Glass--Disappearance of an Apple and a Ninepin--A Goblet of

Ink Converted into an Aquarium--The Invisible Journey of a Glass

of Wine--The Wine Changed to Water--The Animated Mouse--The Sand

Frame Trick--Houdin’s Magic Ball, 105

CHAPTER V.

JUGGLERS AND ACROBATIC PERFORMANCES.

Jugglers--The Leamy Revolving Trapeze--Walking on the Ceiling

Head Down--The Mysterious Ball, 139

CHAPTER VI.

FIRE EATERS AND SWORD TRICKS.

Fire Eaters, Tricks with Fire--A Stab through the Abdomen--The

Human Target--Sword Swallowers--Sword Walker--Dancers on Glass, 149

CHAPTER VII.

VENTRILOQUISM AND ANIMATED PUPPETS, 164

CHAPTER VIII.

SHADOWGRAPHY.

Shadowgraphy--French Shadows, 173

CHAPTER IX.

MENTAL MAGIC.

Robert Heller--Second Sight--The Baldwins and Second Sight--

Silent Thought Transference, 184

BOOK II.

_ANCIENT MAGIC._

CHAPTER I.

TEMPLE TRICKS OF THE GREEKS.

Puppet Shows among the Greeks--The Shrine of Bacchus--The First

Automobile Vehicle--The Statue of Cybele--Marvelous Altars--The

Machinery of the Temples--Sounding of Trumpets when a Door was

Opened--Opening and Closing Doors when a Fire was Lighted on the

Altar--Invention in 1889 A.D. vs. Invention B.C.--An Egyptian

Lustral Water Vessel, 203

CHAPTER II.

MIRACULOUS VESSELS OF THE GREEKS.

The Dicaiometer--Miraculous Vessels--Magical Pitchers--Apparatus

for Permitting the Mixing of Wine and Water in Definite

Proportions--The Magical Bottle--Ancient Organs, 221

CHAPTER III.

THE ORIGIN OF THE STEAM ENGINE.

The Eolipile of Heron--Heron’s Marvelous Altar--Heron’s Tubular

Boiler, 234

CHAPTER IV.

GREEK LAMPS, TOYS, ETC.

Perpetual Lamps--An Ancient Automaton--A Greek Toy--The

Decapitated Drinking Horse--Odometers, 239

BOOK III.

_SCIENCE IN THE THEATER._

CHAPTER I.

Behind the Scenes of an Opera House--The Ordinary Stage--The

English Stage--The Stage Floor--The Cellars--The Flies--The

Gridiron--Traps-Sliders--Bridges--The Metropolitan Opera House

Stage--Wing Posts--Curtain Calls--The Electric Lighting--Paint

Bridge--The Property Man--Striking a Scene--The Dressing-Rooms--

The Production of a New Opera, 251

CHAPTER II.

SOME REMARKABLE STAGES, ANCIENT AND MODERN.

An Electric Curtain--The Fan-Drop Curtain--An Elevator Theater

Stage--Some Remarkable American Stage Inventions--A Revolving

Stage--The “Asphaleia” Stage--A Theater with Two Auditoriums--

Curio’s Pivoted Theater--The Olympian Theater of Palladio at

Vicenza, 268

CHAPTER III.

STAGE EFFECTS.

Scene Painting--Sunrise Effect--Sun Effect--Change from Day to

Night--Stars--Moon Effects--Rainbow Effect--Wind Effect--Thunder

Effect--Lightning--Snow Effect--Wave Effect--Crash Effect--Rain

Effect--Gradual Transformation--Fire and Smoke Effect--Battle

Scenes--Theatrical Firearms--The Imitation of Odors, 293

CHAPTER IV.

THEATER SECRETS.

Traps--The Swan in “Lohengrin”--The Floating Rhine Daughters in

“Rheingold”--The “Sun Robe”--The Ship on the Stage--Miscellaneous

Stage Effects--The Destruction of the Temple of Dagon--The Horse

Race on the Stage--The Effects in “Siegfried”--Siegfried’s Forge

--Siegfried’s Anvil--The Dragon Fafner--Wotan’s Spear--The Bed of

Tulips and the Electric Firefly--The Electric Torch and Electric

Jewels--An Electrical Duel--The Skirt Dance, 311

CHAPTER V.

THE NAUTICAL ARENA, 345

CHAPTER VI.

A TRIP TO THE MOON, 348

CHAPTER VII.

CYCLORAMAS.

The Electric Cyclorama--The Painted Cyclorama, 354

CHAPTER VIII.

FIREWORKS WITH DRAMATIC ACCESSORIES, 362

BOOK IV.

_AUTOMATA AND CURIOUS TOYS._

CHAPTER I.

AUTOMATA.

Automaton Chess Players--The Automaton Chess Player--A Curious

Automaton--The Toy Artist--A Steam Man, 367

CHAPTER II.

CURIOUS TOYS.

An Optical Illusion--The Money Maker--Experiments in Centrifugal

Force and Gravity--The Magic Rose--Electrical Toys--The Electric

Race Course--Magnetic Oracle--The Dancers--An Ancient Counterpart

of a Modern Toy--Unbalanced Toy Acrobats--Columbus’s Egg--Jacob’s

Ladder--The Mikado--A Toy Cart--The Phonographic Doll, 380

CHAPTER III.

MISCELLANEOUS TRICKS OF AN AMUSING NATURE.

Interesting Tricks in Elasticity--Novel Puzzle--Simple Match

Trick--Crystallized Ornaments--Magical Apparition on White Paper

--Magic Portraits--A Trick Opera Glass--A Toy Bird that Flies--

The Planchette Table--Japanese Magic Mirrors--Magic Mirrors, 406

BOOK V.

_PHOTOGRAPHIC DIVERSIONS._

CHAPTER I.

TRICK PHOTOGRAPHY.

Lavater’s Apparatus for Taking Silhouettes--Photography upon a

Black Ground--Spirit Photography--Artificial Mirage--Duplex

Photography--Illusive Photography--Photographing a Catastrophe--

New Type of Photographic Portrait--Photographing a Human Head

upon a Table--Photographing a Head on a Platter--A Multiple

Portrait--Multiphotography--Pinhole Camera--A Photographic

Necktie--Magic Photographs--Electro-Photo Detective Thief Catcher

--Composite Photography, 423

CHAPTER II.

CHRONOPHOTOGRAPHY.

Chronophotography--The Registration and Analysis of the Movements

of Men, Animals, Birds, Fishes, Insects, etc.--Amateur

Chronophotographic Apparatus, 462

CHAPTER III.

THE PROJECTION OF MOVING PICTURES.

The Edison Kinetograph--Reynaud’s Optical Theater--Electric

Tachyscope--Apparatus for Projecting Moving Pictures by the

Demeny, Jenkins, Lumière, and Other Forms of Apparatus--The

Kinetoscope Stereopticon--The Mutoscope and the Mutograph, with

Illustrations of Moving Objects--“Cinematograph” Camera--Camera

for Ribbon Photography--The Micromotoscope, 488

APPENDIX.

_ADDITIONAL TRICKS._

The Magic Table--“Gone”--The Spider and the Fly--The Trunk Trick

--“La Strobeika Persane”--“Metempsychosis,” 519

BIBLIOGRAPHY OF WORKS ON NATURAL MAGIC, 539

INDEX, 553

MAGIC:

STAGE ILLUSIONS AND SCIENTIFIC DIVERSIONS,

INCLUDING TRICK PHOTOGRAPHY.

INTRODUCTION.

THE MYSTERIES OF MODERN MAGIC.

BY HENRY RIDGELY EVANS.

I.

Far back into the shadowy past, before the building of the pyramids,

magic was a reputed art in Egypt, for Egypt was the “cradle of magic.”

The magicians of Egypt, according to the Bible chronicle, contended

against Aaron, at the court of Pharaoh. The Hebrew prophet “cast down

his rod before Pharaoh and before his servants, and it became a serpent.

Then Pharaoh also called the wise men and the sorcerers: now the

magicians of Egypt, they also did in like manner with their

enchantments. For they cast down every man his rod and they became

serpents: but Aaron’s rod swallowed up their rods.” [Exodus vii. 10, 11,

12.]

The late Robert Heller, prestidigitateur, traveler in the Orient, and

skeptic, once told me that he had seen this feat performed in Cairo many

times by the Dervishes. The rods actually were serpents and hypnotized

to such an extent as to become perfectly stiff and rigid. When thrown

upon the earth and recalled to life by sundry mystic passes and strokes,

they crawled away alive and hideous as ever. Said Heller: “It was in the

open air that I saw this strange feat performed. Transferred to the

gloomy audience chamber of some old palace, where the high roof is

supported by ponderous stone columns painted with hieroglyphics, where

rows of black marble sphinxes stare at you with unfathomable eyes, where

the _mise en scène_ is awe-inspiring--this trick of the rods turning

into serpents becomes doubly impressive, and indeed to the uninitiated a

miracle.”

In the British Museum is an Egyptian papyrus, which contains an account

of a magical séance given by a certain Tchatcha-em-ankh before King

Khufu, B.C. 3766. In this manuscript it is stated of the magician: “He

knoweth how to bind on a head which hath been cut off, he knoweth how to

make a lion follow him as if led by a rope, and he knoweth the number of

the stars of the house (constellation) of Thoth.” The decapitation

trick is thus no new thing, while the experiment performed with the

lion, undoubtedly a hypnotic feat, shows hypnotism to be old.

The art of natural magic, then, dates back to the remotest periods of

antiquity. It was an art cultivated by the Egyptian, Chaldean, Jewish,

Roman, and Grecian priesthoods, being used by them to dupe the ignorant

masses. Weeping and bleeding statues, temple doors that flew open with

thunderous sound and apparently by supernatural means, and perpetual

lamps that flamed forever in the tombs of holy men, were some of the

thaumaturgic feats of the Pagan priests. Heron, a Greek mechanician and

mathematician, who lived in the second century before Christ, wrote

several interesting treatises on automata and magical appliances, used

in the ancient temples. Colonel A. De Rochas, in an interesting work,

_Les Origines de la Science_, has given in detail Heron’s accounts of

these wonderful automata and experiments in natural magic. St.

Hippolytus, one of the Fathers of the early Christian Church, also

described and exposed in his works many of these wonders.

Magic is divided, according to old writers on the occult, into: _White

magic_, _Black magic_, and _Necromancy_. Modern magic, or conjuring, is

divided by Robert-Houdin into five classes, as follows:

1. FEATS OF DEXTERITY. The hands and tongue being the only means used

for the production of these illusions.

2. EXPERIMENTS IN NATURAL MAGIC. Expedients derived from the sciences,

and which are worked in combination with feats of dexterity, the

combined result constituting “conjuring tricks.”

3. MENTAL CONJURING. A control acquired over the will of the

spectator; secret thought read by an ingenious system of diagnosis,

and sometimes compelled to take a particular direction by certain

subtle artifices.

4. PRETENDED MESMERISM. Imitation of mesmeric phenomena, second-sight,

clairvoyance, divination, trance, catalepsy.

5. MEDIUMSHIP. Spiritualism or pretended evocation of spirits,

table-turning, rapping and writing, mysterious cabinets, etc.

In the Middle Ages magic was greatly in vogue and we read strange

stories of ghosts, goblins, and gnomes in the literature of that period.

Shriveled old women were burned at the stake for the crime of

witchcraft, monks in their gloomy cells wrestled with Satan and the

powers of darkness, and grimy alchemists toiled day and night over the

red fires of their furnaces, seeking in vain for the talismanic

philosopher’s stone and wondrous elixir of life. With the aid of the

concave mirror, magicians of the period were able to produce very fair

ghost illusions to gull a susceptible public. Benvenuto Cellini

chronicles one in his fascinating autobiography.

Cellini, as guileless as a child in matters of science, desiring to

study sorcery, applied to a Sicilian priest who was a professed dabbler

in the occult art. One dark night they repaired to the ruins of the

Coliseum, at Rome; the monk described a circle on the ground and placed

himself and the great goldsmith within its mystic outlines; a fire was

built, intoxicating perfumes cast on it, and soon an impenetrable smoke

arose. The man of the cowl then waved his wand in the air, pronounced

sundry cabalistic words, and legions of demons were seen dancing in the

air, to the great terror of Cellini. The story of this spirit séance

reads like an Arabian tale, but it is easily explainable. The priest had

a brother confederate concealed among the ruins, who manipulated a

concave mirror, by means of which painted images were thrown on the

smoke. Later on Nostradamus conjured up the vision of the future King of

France for the benefit of the lovely Marie dé Médicis. This illusion was

accomplished by the aid of mirrors adroitly secreted amid hanging

draperies.

II.

The history of magic would be incomplete without a sketch of Cagliostro,

the arch-necromancer of the eighteenth century, who filled all Europe

with his fame. Novels and plays have been founded on his strange career,

as witness Goethe’s “Grand Cophta” and Alexander Dumas’ “Memoirs of a

Physician.” Thomas Carlyle has remorselessly dissected the character of

Cagliostro in an immortal essay, “Count Cagliostro,” which makes

fascinating reading. Cagliostro like Nostradamus, and others of that

ilk, as the Scotch say, was a pretender to magic and sorcery. He

manufactured elixirs of life, raised the shades of the illustrious dead,

pretty much after the fashion of our modern spirit mediums; told

fortunes, predicted lucky numbers in the lottery, transmuted metals, and

founded occult lodges of Egyptian Masonry for the regeneration of

mankind. Joseph Balsamo--for such was the Count’s real name--was born of

poor parents at Palermo, Sicily, in the year 1743. He received the

rudiments of an education, and a smattering of chemistry, at a

neighboring monastery, and then started out to fleece mankind. He began

by forging theater tickets, after that a will; then he robbed a

goldsmith named Marano of a sum of money. Balsamo pretended that a

secret treasure lay buried in a certain rocky chasm just outside the

city of Palermo, and that he, for a consideration, was able to unearth

the gold by means of certain magical incantations. Poor Marano like a

susceptible gudgeon swallowed the bait, hook and all, paid the

contingent fee, and accompanied by the amateur sorcerer (it was

Balsamo’s first attempt in the necromantic line) paid a visit on a

certain dark night to the lonely spot where the treasure lay hid from

mortal gaze. Joseph drew a magic circle of phosphorus on the earth,

pronounced some spells in a peculiar gibberish known only to himself,

which he denominated Arabic, and bade the goldsmith dig away for dear

life. Marano went vigorously to work with pick and spade. Suddenly

terrific yells were heard, whereupon a legion of devils (Joseph’s boon

companions with cork-blackened visages) rushed from behind the rocks,

pounced upon the goldsmith, and nearly beat him to death with their

pitchforks. The enchanter, in order to escape the vengeance of the

furious Marano, was compelled to flee his native city. In company with a

Greek, Althotas, he visited various places--Greece, Egypt, Arabia,

Persia, Rhodes, Malta, Naples, Venice and Rome. According to his own

account, he studied alchemy at Malta in the laboratory of Pinto, Grand

Master of the Knights of Malta and St. John. At Rome he married a

beautiful girl, Lorenza Feliciani, daughter of a girdle maker, who

proved of great assistance to him in his impostures. They travelled over

Europe in a coach-and-four with a retinue of servants garbed in gorgeous

liveries. Balsamo changed his name to the high-sounding title of the

Comte de Cagliostro, and scattered money right and left. “At

Strasbourg,” says one of his biographers, “he reaped an abundant harvest

by professing the art of making old people young; in which pretension he

was seconded by his wife, Lorenza Feliciani, who, though only twenty

years of age, declared that she was sixty and that she had a son a

veteran in the Dutch service.” Cagliostro also pretended to be of a

great age, and solemnly declared that he had hobnobbed with Alexander

and Julius Cæsar; that he was present at the burning of Rome under Nero

and was an eye-witness of the crucifixion of Christ. Cardinal de Rohan,

of France, who became a firm believer in the pretensions of the

charlatan, entertained him in Paris, introducing him to that gay world

of the Old Régime which went out forever with the French Revolution.

This was in 1785. All Paris went wild over the enchanter, and thronged

to his magical soirées at his residence in the Rue St. Claude.

Cagliostro coined money in the French capital with his spurious Egyptian

Rite of Freemasonry, which promised to its votaries the length of life

of the Noachites, and superhuman power over nature and her laws. Imbert

Saint-Amand, the interesting author of “Marie Antoinette and the End of

the Old Régime,” says (Scribner Edition): “The mania for the

supernatural, the rage for the marvelous, prevailed in the last years of

the eighteenth century, which had wantonly derided every sacred thing.

Never were the Rosicrucians, the adepts, sorcerers, and prophets so

numerous and so respected. Serious and educated men, magistrates,

courtiers, declared themselves eye-witnesses of alleged miracles....

When Cagliostro came to France, he found the ground prepared for his

magical operations. A society eager for distractions and emotions,

indulged to every form of extravagance, necessarily welcomed such a man

and hailed him as its guide. Whence did he come? What was his country,

his age, his origin? Where did he get those extraordinary diamonds which

adorned his dress, the gold which he squandered so freely? It was all a

mystery.... So far as was known, Cagliostro had no resources, no letter

of credit, and yet he lived in luxury. He treated and cured the poor

without pay, and not satisfied with restoring them to health, he made

them large presents of money. His generosity to the poor, his scorn for

the great, aroused universal enthusiasm. The Germans, who lived on

legends, imagined that he was the Wandering Jew.... Speaking a strange

gibberish, which was neither French nor Italian, with which he mingled a

jargon which he did not translate, but called Arabic, he used to recite

with solemn emphasis the most absurd fables. When he repeated his

conversation with the angel of light and the angel of darkness, when he

spoke of the great secret of Memphis, of the Hierophant, of the giants,

the enormous animals, of a city in the interior of Africa ten times as

large as Paris, where his correspondents lived, he found a number of

people ready to listen and believe him.”

The interior of Africa was an excellent place in which to locate all

these marvels. Since no traveler in that age of skepticism and credulity

had ever penetrated into the mysterious land of Ham, it was impossible

to deny the Munchausen-like stories of the magician. All this bears a

close analogy to the late Madame Blavatsky and her Tibetan Mahatmas.

Cagliostro, like all successful and observant wizards, was keenly alive

to the effects of _mise en scène_ in his necromantic exhibitions; he was

a strong believer in the spectacular. To awe his dupes with weird and

impressive ceremonies, powerfully to stimulate their imaginations--ah,

that was the great desideratum! His séance-room was hung with somber

draperies, and illuminated with wax lights in massive silver

candlesticks which were arranged about the apartment in mystic triangles

and pentagons.

Says Saint-Amand: “As a sorcerer he had a cabalistic apparatus. On a

table with a black cloth, on which were embroidered in red the

mysterious signs of the highest degree of the Rosicrucians, there stood

the emblems: little Egyptian figures, old vials filled with lustral

waters, and a crucifix, very like, though not the same as the

Christian’s cross; and there too Cagliostro placed a glass globe full of

clarified water. Before the globe he used to place a kneeling seer; that

is to say, a young woman who, by supernatural powers, should behold the

scenes which were believed to take place in water within the magic

globe.

“Count Beugnot, who gives all the details in his Memoirs, adds that for

the proper performance of the miracle the seer had to be of angelic

purity, to have been born under a certain constellation, to have

delicate nerves, great sensitiveness, and, in addition, blue eyes. When

she knelt down, the geniuses were bidden to enter the globe. The water

became active and turbid. The seer was convulsed, she ground her teeth,

and exhibited every sign of nervous excitement. At last she saw and

began to speak. What was taking place that very moment at hundreds of

miles from Paris, in Vienna or Saint Petersburg, in America or Pekin, as

well as things which were going to occur only some weeks, months, or

years later, she declared that she saw distinctly in the globe. The

operation had succeeded; the adepts were transported with delight.”

Cagliostro became involved in the affair of the Diamond Necklace, and

was thrown into the Bastille. Though eventually liberated, he was

compelled to leave Paris. He made one remarkable prediction: That the

Bastille would one day be razed to the ground. How well that prophecy

was realized, history relates. In the year 1789 the enchanter was in

Rome, at the inn of the Golden Sun. He endeavored to found one of his

Egyptian Lodges in the Eternal City, but the Holy Inquisition pounced

down upon him, adjudged him guilty of the crime of Freemasonry--a

particularly heinous offense in Papal Territory--and condemned him to

death. The sentence, however, was commuted by the Pope to perpetual

imprisonment in the gloomy fortress of San Leon, Urbino. The manner of

his death, nay the day of his death, is uncertain, but it is supposed to

have taken place one August morning in the year 1790. The beautiful

Lorenza Feliciani, called by her admirers the “Flower of Vesuvius,”

ended her days in a convent, sincerely repentant, it is said, of her

life of impostures.

III.

With Cagliostro, so-called genuine magic died. Of the great pretenders

to occultism he was the last to win any great fame, although there has

been a feeble attempt to revive thaumaturgy in this nineteenth century

by Madame Blavatsky. Science has laughed away sorcery, witchcraft, and

necromancy. Prior to Cagliostro’s time a set of men arose calling

themselves _faiseurs_, who practiced the art of sleight-of-hand, allied

to natural magic. They gave very amusing and interesting exhibitions.

Very few of these conjurers laid claim to occult powers, but ascribed

their _jeux_, or tricks, to manual dexterity, mechanical and scientific

effects. These magicians soon became popular.

Towards the middle of the eighteenth century we hear of Jonas,

Androletti, Carlotti, Pinetti, Katerfelto, Philadelphus Philadelphia,

Rollin, Comus I. and II. Pinetti, when he arrived in London in 1784,

displayed the following advertisement: “The Chevalier Pinetti with his

Consort will exhibit most wonderful, stupendous, and absolutely

inimitable, mechanical, physical, and philosophical pieces, which his

recent deep scrutiny in those sciences, and assiduous exertions, have

enabled him to invent and construct; among which Chevalier Pinetti will

have the special honor and satisfaction of exhibiting various

experiments of new discovery, no less curious than seemingly incredible,

particularly that of Madame Pinetti being seated in one of the front

boxes, with a handkerchief over her eyes, and guessing at everything

imagined and proposed to her by any person in the company.” Here we have

the first mention of the second-sight trick, which in the hands of

latter-day artists has become so popular. Houdin rediscovered it, passed

it on to Robert Heller who improved it, and at the present time the

conjurer Kellar makes it his _pièce de résistance_. Rollin had a

romantic career. He accumulated a fortune at conjuring, and purchased

the chateau of Fontenay-aux-Roses, in the department of the Seine. Says

H. J. Burlingame, an interesting writer on magic: “Rollin incurred the

suspicions of the Committee of Public Safety in 1793, and suffered death

by the guillotine. On the warrant for his execution being read to him,

he turned to those about him, and observed, ‘This is the first paper I

cannot conjure away.’ Rollin was the grandfather of the late political

celebrity of that name, who was minister of the interior in the

provisional government of France of 1848.”

Comus II., who played in London in the year 1793, gave a curious

exhibition of conjuring tricks and automata. His programme announced

that the Great Comus would present “various uncommon experiments with

his ‘Enchanted Horologium,’ ‘Pyxidus Literarum,’ and many curious

operations in ‘Rhabdology,’ ‘Stenaganagraphy,’ and ‘Phylacteria,’ with

many wonderful performances of the grand ‘Dodecahedron,’ also

‘Chartomantic Deceptions’ and ‘Kharamatic Operations.’ To conclude with

the performance of the ‘Teretopæst Figure and Magical House’; the like

never seen in this kingdom before, and will astonish every beholder.”

In the height of the French Revolution, when the guillotine reeked with

blood and the ghastly knitting-women sat round it counting the heads as

they fell into the basket, a Belgian optician, named Etienne Gaspard

Robertson, arrived in Paris, and opened a wonderful exhibition in an

abandoned chapel belonging to the Capuchin convent. The

curiosity-seekers who attended these séances were conducted by ushers

down dark flights of stairs to the vaults of the chapel and seated in a

gloomy crypt shrouded with black draperies and pictured with the emblems

of mortality. An antique lamp, suspended from the ceiling, emitted a

flame of spectral blue. When all was ready a rain and wind storm, with

thunder accompanying, began. Robertson extinguished the lamp and threw

various essences on a brazier of burning coals in the center of the

room, whereupon clouds of odoriferous incense filled the apartment.

Suddenly, with the solemn sound of a far-off organ, phantoms of the

great arose at the incantations of the magician. Shades of Voltaire,

Rousseau, Marat, and Lavoisier appeared in rapid succession. Robertson,

at the end of the entertainment, generally concluded by saying: “I have

shown you, citizens, every species of phantom, and there is but one more

truly terrible specter--the fate which is reserved for us all.” In a

moment a grinning skeleton stood in the center of the hall waving a

scythe. All these wonders were perpetrated through the medium of a

phantasmagoric lantern, which threw images upon smoke. This was a great

improvement on the simple concave mirror which so terrified Cellini. The

effect of this entertainment was electrical; all Paris went wild over

it. Robertson, lucky fellow, managed to save his neck from “_La

Guillotine_,” and returned to his native province with a snug fortune to

die of old age in a comfortable feather bed.

Clever as was Robertson’s ghost illusion, performed by the aid of the

phantasmagoric lantern, it had one great defect: the images were painted

on glass and lacked the necessary vitality. It was reserved for the

nineteenth century to produce the greatest of spectral exhibitions,

that of Prof. Pepper, manager of the London Polytechnic Institution. In

the year 1863, he invented a clever device for projecting the images of

living persons in the air. The illusion is based on a simple optical

effect. In the evening carry a lighted candle to the window and you will

see reflected in the pane, not only the image of the candle but that of

your hand and face as well. The same illusion may be seen while

traveling in a lighted railway carriage at night; you gaze through the

clear sheet of glass of the coach window and behold your “double”

traveling along with you. The apparatus for producing the Pepper ghost

has been used in dramatizations of Bulwer’s “Strange Story,” Dickens’

“Haunted Man” and “Christmas Carol,” and Dumas’ “Corsican Brothers.” In

France the conjurers Robin and Lassaigne presented the illusion with

many novel and startling effects.

One of the most famous of the eighteenth-century magicians was Torrini,

a French nobleman, whose real name was the Comte de Grisi. His father, a

devoted adherent of Louis XVI., lost his life at the storming of the

Tuileries, on that fatal day in August, ever memorable in the annals of

French history. Profiting by the disorders in the French capital, the

young De Grisi was enabled to pass the barriers and reach the family

chateau in Languedoc. He dug up a secret treasure his father had

concealed for any emergency, and proceeded to Italy to study medicine.

He established himself at Naples, where he soon became a physician of

note. Here his noble birth and aristocratic manners gave him the entrée

into the best society of the city. Like many enthusiastic amateurs he

became interested in legerdemain, and performed for the amusement of his

friends. A peculiar incident led him to adopt the profession of a

magician. At the Carnival of 1796, the Chevalier Pinetti arrived in

Naples to give a series of magical entertainments. Pinetti was the idol

of the Italian public. The Comte de Grisi, having unraveled the secrets

of most of Pinetti’s illusions, performed them for his friends. Pinetti,

who was furious at having a rival, set about revenging himself on the

audacious amateur. Without much difficulty he succeeded in ingratiating

himself with De Grisi, and complimented him on his success as a

prestidigitateur. One evening, he persuaded the young Count to take his

place at the theater and give a performance for the benefit of the poor

of the city. Intoxicated with flattery, to say nothing of numerous

glasses of champagne, De Grisi consented. The greater number of

Pinetti’s tricks were performed by the aid of confederates in the

audience, who loaned various objects of which the magician had

duplicates. A diabolical trap was laid for De Grisi. One of the

accomplices declared that he had loaned the young magician a valuable

diamond ring to use in a trick, and had had returned to him a pinchbeck

substitute. Here was a dilemma, but De Grisi put the man off with an

excuse until after the entertainment. Approaching the box where the king

and his family were seated, De Grisi begged the monarch to draw a card

from a pack. No sooner, however, had the king glanced at the card he

had selected, than he threw it angrily on the stage, with marks of

intense dissatisfaction. De Grisi, horror-struck, picked up the card and

found written on it a coarse insult. The conjurer rushed off the stage,

picked up his sword, and searched in vain for the author of the infamous

act of treachery; but Pinetti had fled. De Grisi was so utterly ruined,

socially and financially, by this fiasco, that he came near dying of

brain fever, the result of overwrought emotions. On his recovery he

vowed vengeance on Pinetti, a most unique vengeance. Says De Grisi: “To

have challenged him would be doing him too much honor, so I vowed to

fight him with his own weapons, and humiliate the shameful traitor in my

turn. This was the plan I drew up: I determined to devote myself

ardently to sleight-of-hand, to study thoroughly an art of which I as

yet knew only the first principles. Then, when quite confident in

myself--when I had added many new tricks to Pinetti’s repertoire--I

would pursue my enemy, enter every town before him, and continually

crush him by my superiority.”

De Grisi sold everything he possessed, took refuge in the country, and

toiled for six months at sleight-of-hand. Then with splendid apparatus

and elaborate printing, he took the field against his hated enemy. He

succeeded in accomplishing his ends: Pinetti had to retire vanquished.

Pinetti died in a state of abject misery at the village of Bastichoff,

in Volhynia, Russia. De Grisi determined to proceed to Rome as a finish

to his Italian performances. Pinetti had never dared to enter the

Eternal City, since he laid claims to genuine necromancy to encompass

his tricks. Remembering the fate of the Comte de Cagliostro, he

apprehended a trial for sorcery, and a possible _auto da fé_.

De Grisi, however, had no such fears, as his entertainment was

professedly a sleight-of-hand performance and did not come under the

denomination of witchcraft and necromancy. The Frenchman set his wits to

work to concoct a trick worthy to set before a Pope. Happening one day

to drop into a jeweler’s shop, he espied a magnificent watch lying on

the counter undergoing repairs. “Whose chronometer?” inquired the wizard

nonchalantly. “His Eminence, the Cardinal de ----’s watch, worth ten

thousand francs, and made by the renowned Brègnet of Paris,” said the

jeweler. “Is there another timepiece similar to this in Rome?” continued

De Grisi, examining the watch. “But one,” replied the jeweler, “and that

owned by an improvident young noble who spends his time in the gambling

hells wasting his ancestral estates.”

That was enough for the juggler. He commissioned the jeweler to purchase

the watch at any cost and engrave the Cardinal’s coat-of-arms inside of

the case. The expensive recreation cost De Grisi a thousand francs. When

the evening of the performance arrived the magician appeared before the

Pope and a brilliant assemblage of red-robed Cardinals and executed his

astonishing experiments in conjuring. As a culminating feat he borrowed

the Cardinal’s chronometer, which had been returned by the jeweler.

After many promises to handle it carefully, he dropped it on the floor

of the audience chamber as if by accident and set his heel upon it.

Smash went the priceless timepiece. The Cardinal turned pale with rage,

and all were horror-struck at the unfortunate fiasco. But the Frenchman

smiled at the consternation of the spectators, picked up the fragments

of the watch, had them fully identified in order to preclude any idea of

substitution, and then proceeded to pulverize them in a big brass

mortar. A detonation took place and red flames leaped up from the mortar

in the most approved order of diabolism; all crowded around to watch the

result. Watching his opportunity, the wizard surreptitiously slipped the

duplicate chronometer into a pocket of the Pope’s cassock. The

mystification was complete when De Grisi pretended to pass the ingot of

melted gold from the mortar into the pocket of His Holiness, resulting

in the discovery of the watch, which was produced intact. This seeming

marvel made the lifelong reputation of the French artist. The Pontiff

presented him the day after the séance with a magnificent

diamond-studded snuff-box as a mark of esteem.

Years after this event, De Grisi’s son was accidentally shot by a

spectator in the gun trick. A real leaden bullet got among the sham

bullets and was loaded into the weapon. The wretched father did not long

survive this tragic affair. He died in the city of Lyons, France, in the

early part of this century. De Grisi was a superb performer with cards,

his “blind man’s game of piquet” being a trick unparalleled in the

annals of conjuring.

After De Grisi came a host of clever magicians, among whom may be

mentioned Döbler, whose principal trick was the lighting of one hundred

candles by a pistol shot; Philippe, the first European performer to

present the “bowls of gold fish” and the “Chinese rings”; Bosco, expert

in cup and ball conjuring; and Comte, ventriloquist and expert in flower

tricks. Comte was the most distinguished of these artists, being noted

for his wit and audacity. He was a past master in the art of flattery.

The following good story is told of him: During a performance at the

Tuileries given before Louis XVIII, Comte asked the king to draw a card

from a pack. The monarch selected the king of hearts, by chance, or by

adroit forcing on the part of the magician. The card was torn up, and

rammed into a pistol.

“Look, your majesty,” said Comte, pointing to a vase of flowers which

stood upon a table in the center of the stage. “I shall fire this pistol

at the vase and the king of hearts will appear just above the flowers.”

The weapon was fired, whereupon a small bust of Louis XVIII appeared

instantaneously out of the center of the bouquet.

“Ah,” exclaimed the king to the conjurer, in a slightly sarcastic tone

of voice, “I think. Monsieur Magician, that you have made a slight

mistake. You promised to make the king of hearts appear, but----”

“Pardon me, your majesty,” interrupted the conjurer, “but I have

fulfilled my promise to the letter. Behold, there is your likeness!--and

are you not the acknowledged king of all our hearts, the well-beloved of

the French people?”

The king bowed his royal head benignly, while the assembled courtiers

made the salon ring with their applause. The journals next morning

reported this little scene, and Comte became the lion of the hour.

Comte was in the zenith of his fame when a new performer entered the

arena of magic--Robert-Houdin. One day the following modest handbill

appeared on the Parisian bulletin-boards:

_Aujourd’hui Jeudi, 3 Juillet 1845._

PREMIÈRE REPRÉSENTATION

DES

SOIRÉES FANTASTIQUES

DE

ROBERT-HOUDIN.

AUTOMATES, PRESTIDIGITATION, MAGIE

IV.

In the year 1843 there was situated in the Rue du Temple, Paris, a

little shop, over the door of which was displayed the unpretentious

sign, “M. Robert-Houdin, Pendules de Précision.” It was the shop of a

watchmaker and constructor of mechanical toys. The proprietor was

destined to be the greatest and most original fantaisiste of his time,

perhaps of all times, the founder of a new and unique school of

conjuring, and the inventor of some marvelous illusions. No one who

stopped at the unpretentious place could have prophesied that the

keen-eyed little Frenchman, in his long blouse besmeared with oil and

iron filings, would become the premier prestidigitateur of France, the

inventor of the electrical bell, improver of the electrical clock,

author, and ambassador to the Arabs of Algeria. During his spare moments

Houdin constructed the ingenious automata that subsequently figured in

his famous _Soirées Fantastiques_. When he went abroad on business or

for pleasure he wore the large _paletot_ of the period and practiced

juggling with cards and coins in the capacious pockets.

About the time of which I write he invented his “mysterious clock”--a

piece of apparatus that kept admirable time, though apparently without

works--and he sold one of them to a wealthy nobleman, the Count de

l’Escalopier. The Count, who was an ardent lover of the _art amusante_,

or science wedded to recreation, made frequent visits to the shop in

the Rue du Temple, and sat for hours on a stool in the dingy workroom

watching Houdin at work. A strong friendship grew up between the

watchmaker and the scion of the Old Régime. It was not long before

Houdin confided the secret of his hopes to the Count--his burning desire

to become a great magician.

The nobleman approved the idea, and in order to give the conjurer

opportunities for practice, so that he might acquire the confidence

which he lacked, constantly invited him to pass the evening at the De

l’Escalopier mansion, for the purpose of trying his skill in

sleight-of-hand before a congenial and art-loving company. On one

occasion, after a dinner given in honor of Monseigneur Affré, Archbishop

of Paris, who was killed at the barricades during the Revolution of

1848, Houdin performed his clever trick of the “burnt writing restored.”

In the language of Houdin, the effect was as follows: “After having

requested the spectators carefully to examine a large envelope sealed on

all sides, I handed it to the Archbishop’s Grand Vicar, begging him to

keep it in his own possession. Next, handing to the prelate himself a

small slip of paper, I requested him to write thereon, secretly, a

sentence, or whatever he might choose to think of; the paper was then

folded in four, and (apparently) burnt. But scarcely was it consumed and

the ashes scattered to the winds, than, handing the envelope to the

Archbishop, I requested him to open it. The first envelope being removed

a second was found, sealed in like manner; then another, until a dozen

envelopes, one inside another, had been opened, the last containing the

scrap of paper restored intact. It was passed from hand to hand, and

each read as follows:

“‘Though I do not claim to be a prophet I venture to predict, sir, that

you will achieve brilliant success in your future career.’”

Houdin preserved this slip of paper as a religious relic for many years,

but lost it during his travels in Algeria.

The Count de l’Escalopier, after the incident at the memorable dinner,

urged Houdin to start out immediately as a conjurer. One day the

watchmaker, after considerable hesitation, confessed his inability to do

so on account of poverty.

“Ah,” replied the nobleman, “if that’s all, it is easily remedied. I

have at home ten thousand francs or so which I really don’t know what to

do with. Accept them, my dear Houdin, and begin your career.”

But Houdin, loath to incur the responsibility of risking a friend’s

money in a theatrical speculation, without some guarantee of its being

repaid, refused the generous offer. Again and again De l’Escalopier

urged him to take it, but without success; finally the nobleman, annoyed

at the mechanician’s obstinacy, left the shop in a state of pique. But

after a few days he returned, saying, as he entered: “Since you are

determined not to accept a favor from me, I have come to ask one of you.

Listen! For the last year an escritoire in my sleeping-apartment has

been robbed from time to time of large sums of money, notwithstanding

the fact that I have adopted all manner of precautions and safeguards,

such as changing the locks, having secret fastenings placed on the

doors, etc. I have dismissed my servants, one after another, but, alas!

have not discovered the culprit. This very morning I have been robbed of

a couple of thousand-franc notes. There is a dark cloud of suspicion and

evil hanging over my house that nothing will lift till the thief is

caught. Can you help me?”

“I am willing to serve you,” said Houdin; “but how?”

“What!” replied De l’Escalopier; “you a mechanician, and ask how? Come,

come, my friend; can you not devise some mechanical means for

apprehending a thief?”

Houdin thought a minute, and said quietly: “I’ll see what I can do for

you.” Setting to work feverishly, he invented the apparatus, and aided

by his two workmen, who remained with him the whole of the night, he had

it ready at eight o’clock the next morning. To the nobleman’s house

Houdin went. The Count under various pretexts had sent all his servants

away, so that no one should be aware of the mechanician’s visit.

While Houdin was placing his apparatus in position, the Count frequently

expressed his wonderment at the heavy padded glove which the conjurer

wore on his right hand.

“All in good time, my dear Count,” said Houdin. When everything was

arranged, the mechanician began his explanation of the working of the

secret detective apparatus. “You see, it is like this,” he remarked.

“The thief unlocks the desk, but no sooner does he raise the lid, ever

so little, than this claw-like piece of mechanism, attached to a light

rod, and impelled by a spring, comes sharply down on the back of the

hand which holds the key, and at the same time the report of a pistol is

heard. The noise is to alarm the household, and----”

“But the glove you wear!” interrupted the nobleman.

“The glove is to protect me from the operation of the steel claw which

tattooes the word _Robber_ on the back of the criminal’s hand.”

“How is that accomplished?” said De l’Escalopier.

“Simplest thing in the world,” replied Houdin. “The claw consists of a

number of very short but sharp points, so fixed as to form the word: and

these points are shoved through a pad soaked with nitrate of silver, a

portion of which is forced by the blow into the punctures, thereby

making the scars indelible for life. A _fleur de lys_ stamped by an

executioner with a red-hot iron could not be more effective.”

“But, M. Houdin,” said the Count, horror-stricken at the idea. “I have

no right to anticipate Justice in this way. To brand a fellow-being in

such a fashion would forever close the doors of society against him. I

could not think of such a thing. Besides, suppose some member of my

family through carelessness or forgetfulness were to fall a victim to

this dreadful apparatus.”

“You are right,” answered Houdin. “I will alter the mechanism in such a

way that no harm can come to any one, save a mere superficial flesh

wound that will easily heal. Give me a few hours.”

The Count assented, and the mechanician went home to his work-shop to

make the required alterations. At the appointed time, he returned to the

nobleman’s mansion, and the machine was adjusted to the desk. In place

of the branding apparatus, Houdin had arranged a kind of cat’s claw to

scratch the back of the thief’s hand. The desk was closed, and the two

men parted company.

The Count did everything possible to excite the cupidity of the robber.

He sent repeatedly for his stock-broker, on which occasions sums of

money were ostentatiously passed from hand to hand; he even made a

pretense of going away from home for a short time, but the bait proved a

failure. Each day the nobleman reported, “no result,” to Houdin, and was

on the point of giving up in despair. Two weeks elapsed. One morning De

l’Escalopier rushed into the watchmaker’s shop, sank breathlessly on a

chair, and ejaculated: “I have caught the robber at last.”

“Indeed,” replied Houdin; “who is he?”

“But first let me relate what happened,” said the Count. “I was seated

this morning in my library when the report of a pistol resounded in my

sleeping-apartment. ‘The thief!’ I exclaimed excitedly. I looked around

me for a weapon, but finding nothing at hand, I grasped an ancient

battle-ax from a stand of armor near by, and ran to seize the robber. I

pushed open the door of the sleeping-room and saw, to my intense

surprise, Bernard, my trusted valet and factotum, a man who has been in

my employ for upwards of twenty years. ‘What are you doing here?’ I

asked; ‘what was that noise?’

“In the coolest manner he replied: ‘I came into the room just as you

did, sir, at the explosion of the pistol. I saw a man making his escape

down the back stairs, but I was so bewildered that I was unable to

apprehend him.’

“I rushed down the back stairs, but, finding the door locked on the

inside, knew that no one could have passed that way. A great light broke

upon me. ‘Great God!’ I cried, ‘can Bernard be the thief?’ I returned to

the library. My valet was holding his right hand behind him, but I

dragged it forward, and saw the imprint of the claw thereon. The wound

was bleeding profusely. Finding himself convicted, the wretch fell on

his knees and begged my forgiveness.

“‘How long have you been robbing me?’ I asked.

“‘For nearly two years,’ he said.

“‘And how much have you taken?’ I inquired.

“‘Fifteen thousand francs, which I invested in Government stock. The

scrip is in my desk.’

“I found the securities correct, and in the presence of another witness,

made Bernard sign the following confession:

“‘I, the undersigned, hereby admit having stolen from the Count de

l’Escalopier the sum of 15,000 francs, taken by me from his desk by the

aid of false keys.

“‘BERNARD X----.

“‘PARIS, _the -- day of ----, 18--_.

“‘Now go,’ I exclaimed, ‘and never enter this house again. You are safe

from prosecution; go, and repent of your crime.’

“And now,” said the Count to Houdin, “I want you to take these 15,000

francs and begin your career as a conjurer; surely you cannot refuse to

accept as a loan the money your ingenuity has rescued from a robber.

Take it----”

The nobleman produced the securities, and pressed them into Houdin’s

hands. The mechanician, overcome by the Count’s generosity, embraced him

in true Gallic style, and this embrace, Houdin says, “was the only

security De l’Escalopier would accept from me.”

Without further delay the conjurer had a little theatre constructed in

the Palais Royal, and began his famous performances, called by him:

“_Soirées Fantastiques de Robert-Houdin_,” which attained the greatest

popularity. He was thus enabled within a year to pay back the money

borrowed from the Count de l’Escalopier.

Jean Eugène Robert, afterwards known to fame by the cognomen of

Robert-Houdin, was born at Blois, the birthplace of Louis XII, on the

sixth of December, 1805. His father was a watchmaker. At the age of

eleven Robert was sent to a Jesuit college at Orleans, preparatory to

the study of law, and was subsequently apprenticed to a notary at Blois,

but finding the transcribing of musty deeds a tiresome task, he

prevailed on his father to let him follow the trade of a watchmaker.

While working in this capacity, he chanced one day to enter a

bookseller’s shop to purchase a treatise on mechanics, and was handed by

mistake a work on conjuring. The marvels contained in this volume fired

his imagination, and this incident decided his future career, but he did

not realize his ambition until later in life, when De l’Escalopier came

to his aid.

In his early study of sleight-of-hand Houdin soon recognized that the

organs performing the principal part are the sight and touch. He says in

his memoirs: “I had often been struck by the ease with which pianists

can read and perform at sight the most difficult pieces. I saw that, by

practice, it would be possible to create a certainty of perception and

facility of touch, rendering it easy for the artist to attend to several

things simultaneously, while his hands were busy employed with some

complicated task. This faculty I wished to acquire and apply to

sleight-of-hand; still, as music could not afford me the necessary

element, I had recourse to the juggler’s art.” Residing at Blois at the

time was a mountebank who, for a consideration, initiated the young

Houdin into the mysteries of juggling, enabling him to juggle four

balls at once and read a book at the same time. “The practice of this

feat,” continues Houdin, “gave my fingers a remarkable degree of

delicacy and certainty, while my eye was at the same time acquiring a

promptitude of perception that was quite marvelous.”

On Thursday evening, July 3, 1845, Houdin’s first Fantastic Evening took

place in a small hall of the Palais Royal. The little auditorium would

seat only two hundred people, but the prices of admission were somewhat

high, front seats being rated at $1 or five francs, and no places were

to be had under forty sous. The stage set represented a miniature

drawing-room in white and gold in the Louis XV style. In the center was

an undraped table, flanked by two small side tables of the lightest

possible description; at the side wings or walls were consoles, with

about five inches of gilt fringe hanging from them; and across the back

of the room ran a broad shelf, upon which were displayed the various

articles to be used in the séances. A chandelier and elegant candelabra

made the little scene brilliant. The simplicity of everything on the

conjurer’s stage disarmed suspicion; apparently there was no place for

the concealment of anything. Prior to Houdin’s day the wizards draped

all of their tables to the floor, thereby making them little else than

ponderous confederate boxes. Conjuring under such circumstances was

child’s play, as compared with the difficulties to be encountered with

the apparatus of the new school. In addition, Houdin discarded the long,

flowing robes of many of his predecessors, as savoring too much of

charlatanism, and appeared in evening dress. Since his time, no

first-class prestidigitateur has dared to offend good taste, by

presenting his illusions in any other costume than that of a gentleman

habited _à la mode_, nor has he dared to give a performance with draped

tables. In fact, modern professors of the _art magique_ have gone to

extremes on the question of tables and elaborate apparatus, many of them

using simple little guéridons with glass tops, unfringed. Houdin’s

center table was a marvel of mechanical skill and ingenuity. Concealed

in the body were “vertical rods each arranged to rise and fall in a

tube, according as it was drawn down by a spiral spring or pulled up by

a whip-cord which passed over a pulley at the top of the tube and so

down the table leg to the hiding place of the confederate.” There were

“ten of these pistons, and the ten cords, passing under the floor of the

stage, terminated at a keyboard. Various ingenious automata were

actuated by this means of transmitting motion.” The consoles were

nothing more than shallow wooden boxes with openings through the side

scenes. The tops of the consoles were perforated with traps. Any object

which the wizard desired to work off secretly to his confederate behind

the scenes was placed on one of these traps and covered with a paper,

metal cover, or a handkerchief. Touching a spring caused the article to

fall noiselessly through the trap upon cotton batting, and roll into the

hands of the conjurer’s _alter ego_, or concealed assistant.

Let us now look at some of the illusions of the classic prestidigitateur

of France. By far his best and greatest invention is the “light and

heavy chest,” of which he himself wrote: “I do not think, modesty apart,

that I ever invented anything so daringly ingenious.” The conjurer came

forward with a little wooden box, to the top of which was attached a

metal handle, and remarked as follows to the audience: “Ladies and

gentlemen, I have here a cash box which possesses some peculiar

qualities. I place in it, for example, a lot of bank-notes, for

safe-keeping, and by mesmeric power I can make the box so heavy that the

strongest man cannot lift it. Let us try the experiment.” He placed the

box on the run-down, which served as a means of communication between

the stage and the audience, and requested the services of a volunteer

assistant.

When the latter had satisfied the audience that the box was almost as

light as a feather, the conjurer executed his pretended mesmeric passes,

and bade the gentleman lift it a second time. But try as he might, with

all his strength, the volunteer would prove unequal to the task. Reverse

passes over the demon box restored it to its pristine lightness. This

extraordinary trick is performed as follows: Underneath the cloth cover

of the run-down, at a spot marked, was a powerful electro-magnet with

conducting wires reaching behind the scenes to a battery. At a signal

from the magician a secret operator turned on the electric current, and

the box, which had an iron bottom, clung to the electro-magnet with

supernatural attraction. It is needless to remark that the bottom of the

cash box was painted to represent mahogany, so as to correspond with the

top and sides.

The phenomena of electro-magnetism were entirely unknown to the general

public in 1845, when this trick of the spirit cash-box was first

presented. As may be well imagined, it created a profound sensation.

When people became more enlightened on the subject of electricity,

Houdin added an additional effect, in order to throw the public off the

scent as to the principle on which the experiment was based. After first

having exhibited the trick on the “run-down,” he hooked the box to one

end of a rope which passed over a pulley attached to the ceiling of the

hall. Several gentlemen were now invited to hold the disengaged end of

the rope. They were able to raise and lower the box with perfect ease,

but at a wave of the magician’s wand the little chest descended slowly

to the floor, lifting off their feet the spectators who were holding the

rope, to the astonishment of everyone. The secret lay in the pulley and

block. The rope, instead of passing straight over the pulley, in on one

side and out on the other, went through the block and through the

ceiling, working over a double pulley on the floor above, where a

workman at a windlass held his own against the united power of the five

or six gentlemen below. It is a simple mechanical principle and will be

easily understood by those acquainted with mechanical power.

Houdin’s orange tree, that blossomed and bore fruit in sight of the

audience, was a clever piece of mechanism. The blossoms, constructed of

tissue paper, were pushed up through the hollow branches of the tree by

the pistons rising in the table and operating against similar pistons in

the orange-tree box. When these pedals were relaxed the blossoms

disappeared and the fruit was gradually developed--real fruit, too,

which was distributed among the spectators. The oranges were stuck on

iron spikes affixed to the branches of the tree and hid from view by

hemispherical wire screens painted green and secreted by the leaves.

When these screens were swung back by pedal play the fruit was revealed.

In performing this illusion Houdin first borrowed a handkerchief from a

lady in the audience, and caused it to pass from his hand into an orange

left on the tree. When the disappearance was effected, the fruit opened,

revealing the handkerchief in its center. Two mechanical butterflies,

exquisitely made, then took the delicate piece of cambric or lace and

flew upwards with it. The handkerchief of course was exchanged in the

beginning of the trick for a dummy belonging to the magician. It was

worked into the mechanical orange by an assistant, before the tree was

brought forward for exhibition.

Houdin was very fond of producing magically bon-bons, small fans, toys,

bouquets, and bric-à-brac from borrowed hats. These articles he

distributed with liberal hand among the spectators, exclaiming: “Here

are toys for young children and old.” There was always a great scramble

for these souvenirs. The conjurer found time to edit and publish a small

comic newspaper, “Cagliostro,” copies of which were handed to every one

in the theatre. The contents of this _journal pour rire_ were changed

from evening to evening, which entailed no small labor on the part of

the hard-worked prestidigitateur. It was illustrated with comic

cartoons, and was eagerly perused between the acts.

Here is one of Houdin’s _bon mots_: _Le Ministre de l’Intérieur ne

recevra pas demain, mais le Ministre des Finances recevra tous les jours

... et jours suivants_.

The crowning event of Houdin’s life was his embassy to Algeria to

counteract the influence of the Marabout priests over the ignorant

Arabs. The Marabouts are Mohammedan miracle workers, and are continually

fanning the flames of rebellion and discontent against French

domination. The French Government invited Robert-Houdin to go to Algeria

and perform before the Arabs in order to show them that a French wizard

was greater than a Marabout fakir. It was pitting Greek against Greek!

The marvels of optics, chemistry, electricity, and mechanics which

Houdin had in his repertoire, coupled with his digital dexterity, were

well calculated to evoke astonishment and awe. How well the famous

French wizard succeeded in his mission is a matter of history. A full

account of his adventures among the Arabs is contained in his memoirs

and makes very entertaining reading. After his successful embassy to the

land of the white bournous and turban, Houdin returned to France and

settled down at St. Gervais near Blois, giving his time to electrical

studies and inventions.

He received several gold medals from the French Government for the

successful application of electricity to the running of clocks. The

conjurer’s house was a regular Magic Villa, being full of surprises for

the friends who visited the place. There were sliding panels in the

walls, trap doors, automatons in every niche, descending floors, and

electric wires from attic to cellar. Houdin died at St. Gervais in June,

1871. His son-in-law, M. Hamilton, continued to carry on the Temple of

Enchantment at Paris, and at the present time there is a little theater

on the Boulevard des Italiens called “Théâtre Robert-Houdin,” where

strolling conjurers hold forth. It was a great disappointment to Houdin

when his two sons refused to take up magic as a profession; one entered

the French army, and the other became a watchmaker.

V.

One of the best sleight-of-hand artists that ever lived was Carl

Herrmann, who styled himself the “Premier Prestidigitateur of France and

First Professor of Magic in the World.” He died at Carlsbad, June 8,

1887, at the advanced age of seventy-two. Of him Burlingame says:

“Without using much mechanical or optical apparatus, he produced many

wonderful effects by a sharp observation of the absence of mind of the

human auditor, assisted by a hand as firm as steel and capable of the

most deft movement.” Carl Herrmann traveled extensively, and many

conjurers adopted his name as a _nom de théâtre_. Magicians seem to have

a _penchant_ for this sort of thing, as witness the case of Signor

Blitz. Antonio Blitz, a very clever performer, no sooner arrived in the

United States than imitators sprang up like mushrooms in a single night.

In his “Fifty Years in the Magic Circle,” he gives a list of eleven of

these impostors, who not only had the impudence to assume his name, but

circulated verbatim copies of his handbills and advertisements--

Signor Blitz.

Signor Blitz, Jr.

Signor Blitz, The Original.

Signor Blitz’s Son.

Signor Blitz’s Nephew.

Signor Blitz, The Great.

Signor Blitz, The Wonderful.

Signor Blitz, The Unrivaled.

Signor Blitz, The Mysterious.

Signor Blitz, By Purchase.

Signor Blitz, The Great Original.

A clever entertainer was Robert Heller. He was a magician, a mimic, and

a musician--a combination of talents rarely seen in one individual. He

was, indeed, the Admirable Crichton of fantaisistes. As a pure

sleight-of-hand artist, Heller was not the equal of some of his

contemporaries, but he made up for all deficiencies in this respect by

his histrionic abilities. By the power of his address and wit he

invested the most insignificant feats of legerdemain with a peculiar

charm. In this regard he was like Robert-Houdin. Robert Heller, or

Palmer, was born in London, in the year 1833. Early in life he

manifested a unique talent for music, and won a scholarship at the Royal

Academy of Music at the age of fourteen. Having witnessed several

performances of the conjurer Houdin, in London, he became enamored of

magic, and devoted his time to perfecting himself in the art of

legerdemain, subsequently traveling around giving entertainments in the

English provinces. In the year 1852 he made his bow to a New York

audience at the Chinese Assembly Rooms, on which occasion he wore a

black wig and spoke with a decided Gallic accent, having come to the

conclusion that a French prestidigitateur would be better received in

the United States than an English wizard. I have this on the authority

of Henry Hatton, the conjurer, who wrote an article on Heller’s

“second-sight” trick for the “Century Magazine” some years ago. Hatton

also says that Heller began his magical soirée with an address in the

French language. Not meeting with the desired financial success, Heller

abandoned conjuring, and settled in Washington, D. C., as a teacher of

the piano and organist of one of the large churches of the city.

Eventually he married one of his music pupils, a Miss Kieckhoffer, the

daughter of a wealthy German banker, and abandoned music for magic. He

went to New York, where he opened Heller’s Hall, in a building which

then stood opposite Niblo’s Garden, on Broadway. His second début as a

conjurer was an artistic and financial success. After a splendid run in

New York he returned to London, opening what is now Pool’s Theater.

Subsequently he visited Australia, India, and California, returning to

New York in 1875. He died November 28, 1878, at the Continental Hotel,

Philadelphia, at the height of his fame. Like most of his _confrères_,

Heller was a clever advertiser. His theatrical posters usually bore the

following amusing verse:

“Shakespeare wrote well,

Dickens wrote Weller;

Anderson was ----,

But the greatest is Heller.”

His entertainments consisted of magic, music, and an exhibition of

pretended clairvoyance. Those who were not interested in his feats of

legerdemain flocked to hear his superb performances on the piano.

Heller, like Houdin, made great use of electricity in his magical

séances. Many of his electrical tricks were of his own invention. In his

will he directed his executors to destroy all of his apparatus, so that

it might not come into the possession of any other conjurer.

The most popular performer in this country was Alexander Herrmann, a

European by birth, but an American by adoption. I am indebted to Mr. Wm.

Robinson, for years an assistant to Herrmann, for the following account

of the great conjurer’s career:

“The late Alexander Herrmann was born in Paris, France, February 11,

1843, and died in his private car on December 17, 1896, while _en route_

from Rochester, N. Y., to Bradford, Pa. He came of a family of eminent

prestidigitateurs, his father, Samuel Herrmann, being the most famous

conjurer of his day. Samuel Herrmann was a great favorite with the

Sultan of Turkey, who frequently sent for him to give entertainments in

the royal palace at Constantinople.

[Illustration: ALEXANDER HERRMANN.]

“The next in the family to wield the magic wand was Carl Herrmann, who

was the first of the Herrmanns to visit America, and the first to use

and introduce the name ‘prestidigitateur’ in this country. Carl,

Alexander’s eldest brother, achieved great success in the world of

magic. He died June 8, 1887, at Carlsbad, Germany, possessed of a large

fortune. There were sixteen children in the Herrmann family, Carl being

the eldest, and Alexander the youngest. After Carl adopted magic as a

profession, the father abandoned it, and began the study of medicine. It

was the father’s fondest hope that Alexander, his favorite son, should

be a physician, but fate decreed otherwise. Alexander’s whole desire and

ambition was to become a magician like his father and his brother. He

persuaded his brother to take him as an assistant. One day young

Alexander was missing from the parental roof; he had been kidnapped and

taken away by Carl, with whom he made his first public appearance, at

the age of eight, at a performance in St. Petersburg, Russia. Even at

that early age his great dexterity, ingenuity, and presence of mind were

simply marvelous. The sudden appearance of the father dispelled the

visions of the embryonic magician, and he was compelled to return home.

But the youth’s attention could not be diverted from his purpose, and

again he became his brother’s assistant. This time, the father

compromised by consenting to Alexander’s remaining on the stage,

provided his education were not neglected. Carl engaged two competent

tutors to travel with the company and instruct the young prodigy. For

six years the brothers worked together, visiting Spain, France, Germany,

Russia, and the surrounding countries. Again the parents claimed

Alexander, and placed him in the University of Vienna. At the age of

sixteen, the old desire and fascination took possession of him. He

accepted his brother’s proposal to make a tour of the world, and ran

away from home and studies. Their first appearance in America was at the

Academy of Music, New York, Monday, September 16, 1861. Their last joint

engagement was in this country in the year 1869. On the opening night,

in New York, Monday, September 20, Carl introduced Alexander to the

audience as his brother and successor. When this engagement terminated,

the brothers separated; Carl made a short tour of this country, but

Alexander went to Europe, where he appeared in the principal cities,

subsequently visiting the Brazils and South America. After that he made

a remarkable run of one thousand performances at the Egyptian Hall,

London, England. From England he returned to the United States in the

year 1874, and from that period made this country his home, becoming a

naturalized citizen in Boston, 1876. His career as a magician was one

uninterrupted success. The many lengthy and favorable notices of him in

the leading journals of this country, immediately after his death,

showed that he was regarded as a public character.

“Herrmann bore a remarkable resemblance to ‘His Satanic Majesty,’ which

he enhanced in all possible ways, in recognition of human nature’s

belief in the superhuman powers of the arch enemy. Despite this

mephistophelian aspect, his face was not forbidding; his manner was ever

genial and kind. ‘Magicians are born, not made’ was a favorite

paraphrase of his, and Dame Nature certainly had him in view for one

when she brought him to this sphere.

“His success lay in his skill as a manipulator, in his witty remarks and

ever-running fire of good-natured small talk. He was a good conjurer, a

clever comedian, and a fine actor. His ‘misdirection,’ to use a

technical expression, was beyond expression. If his luminous eyes turned

in a certain direction, all eyes were compelled (as by some mysterious

power) to follow, giving his marvelously dexterous hands the better

chance to perform those tricks that were the admiration and wonder of

the world.

“Alexander Herrmann’s pet hobby was hypnotism, of which weird science he

was master, and to its use he attributed many of his successful feats.

His great forte was cards; he was an adept in the ordinary tricks of

causing cards to disappear, and reappear from under some stranger’s vest

or from a pocket. With the greatest ease and grace, he distributed cards

about a theater, sending them into the very laps and hands of

individuals asking for them. On one occasion he gave a performance

before Nicholas, the Czar of all the Russians. The Czar complimented the

conjurer upon his skill, and decorated him, at the same time smilingly

remarking: ‘I will show you a trick.’ The Czar tore a pack of cards into

halves, and good-humoredly asked: ‘What do you think of that? Can you

duplicate it?’ His surprise was great to see Herrmann take one of the

halves of the pack and tear _it_ into halves. Herrmann was as clever

with his tongue as with his hands, having mastered French, German,

Spanish, Italian, Russian, Dutch, and English. He also had a fair

knowledge of Portuguese, Chinese, Arabic, and Swedish.

“He was decorated by almost every sovereign of Europe, and many of them

gave him jewels. The King of Belgium and the late King of Spain each

presented him with a cross; there was a ring from the King of Portugal,

one from the Prince of Wales, and various other gems.

“At private entertainments and clubs Herrmann was especially felicitous

as a prestidigitateur. I will enumerate a few of his numberless

sleight-of-hand tricks: He would place a wine glass, full to the brim

with sparkling wine, to his lips, when suddenly, to his apparent

surprise and consternation, the glass of wine would disappear from his

hand and be reproduced immediately from some bystander’s coat-tail

pocket. He would place a ring upon the finger of some person, and

immediately the ring would vanish from sight. A silver dollar would

change into a twenty-dollar gold piece. A magnum bottle of champagne,

holding about two quarts, would disappear, to reappear from under a

gentleman’s coat. He was a capital ventriloquist, an imitator of birds,

and quite clever at juggling and shadowgraphy, but he did not exhibit

these talents in public.

“The lines in Herrmann’s hands were studies for adepts in chirography.

There were three lines of imagination, instead of one, which indicates

an imaginative faculty little less than miraculous, and denotes a

generous heart, genius for friendship, a determined nature, and an

artistic temperament. The accompanying impression of his right hand,

taken a few days after he died, represents a _short_ hand, owing to the

fact that in death the fingers had curled inward somewhat. In life his

hands were long, slender, and tapering.”

[Illustration: IMPRESSION OF HERRMANN’S HAND]

Leon Herrmann, a nephew of the great Herrmann, is now performing in the

United States with success. In personal appearance he resembles his

uncle. He is very clever at palmistry--the cardinal principle of

conjuring.

One of the most original and inventive minds in the domain of conjuring

is M. Bautier de Kolta, a Hungarian, who resides in Paris. He is almost

a gentleman of leisure, and only appears about three nights in a week.

He is the inventor of the flying bird cage, the cocoon, the vanishing

lady, and the trick known as the “black art,” reproduced by Herrmann and

Kellar.

In England, the leading exponent of the magic art is J. N. Maskelyne,

who has held forth at Egyptian Hall, London, for many years. He has done

more to unmask bogus spirit mediums than any conjurer living.

Apprenticed like Houdin to a watchmaker, Maskelyne became acquainted

with mechanics at an early age. He is the inventor of some very

remarkable automata and illusions, for example “Psycho” and the “Miracle

of Lh’asa.” At the juggling feat of spinning dessert plates he has but

few rivals. To perform this requires the greatest skill and delicacy.

One of the best performers in the United States of anti-spiritualistic

tricks and mind-reading experiments is Mr. Harry Kellar, a

Pennsylvanian, who at one time in his career acted as assistant to the

famous Davenport Brothers, spirit mediums. Kellar is exceedingly clever

with handkerchief tricks, and his “rose-tree” feat has never been

surpassed for dexterous and graceful manipulation. Like Houdin, De

Kolta, and Maskelyne, he is an inventor, always having some new optical

or mechanical illusion to grace his entertainments.

Of late years he has made the fatal mistake of exposing the methods of

palmistry to the audience, thereby offending one of the cardinal

principles of the art of legerdemain--never explain tricks, however

simple, to the spectators. People go to magical entertainments to be

mystified by the pretended sorcery of the magician, and when they learn

by what absurdly simple devices a person may be fooled, they look with

indifference at the more ambitious illusions of the performer. Palmistry

is the very foundation stone of prestidigitation. No magician, unless he

confines himself to mechanical tricks, can do without it in a

performance.

Last but not least in the list of modern fantaisistes is the French

entertainer, M. Trewey, an exceedingly clever juggler, sleight-of-hand

artist, and shadowgraphist.

VI.

In his advertisements, Robert-Houdin was extremely modest. His

successors in the _art magique_, however, have not imitated him in this

respect. We have Wizards of the North, South, and West, White and Black

Mahatmas, Napoleons of Necromancy, Modern Merlins, etc. Anderson, the

English conjurer, went to the extreme in self-laudation, but managed to

draw crowds by his vainglorious puffery and fill his coffers with gold,

though he was but an indifferent performer. The following is one of his

effusions:

“Theatre Royal, Adelphi ----. The greatest wonder at present in London

is the Wizard of the North. He has prepared a Banquet of

Mephistophelian, Dextrological, and Necromantic Cabals, for the Wonder

seekers of the approaching holidays. London is again set on fire by the

supernatural fame of the eximious Wizard; he is again on his magic

throne; he waves his mystic scepter, and thousands of beauty, fashion,

and literature, rush as if charmed, or spell-commanded, to behold the

mesteriachist of this age of science and wonder! Hundreds are nightly

turned from the doors of the mystic palace, that cannot gain admission;

this is proof, and more than proof, of the Wizard’s powers of charming.

During the last six nights, 12,000 spectators have been witnesses of the

Wizard’s mighty feats of the science of darkness, and all exclaim, ‘Can

this be man of earth? is he mortal or super-human?’

“Whitsun-Monday, and every evening during the week, The Great

Delusionist will perform his Thousand Feats of Photographic and Alladnic

Enchantments, concluding every evening with the Gun Delusion!!”

The Theosophical craze of recent years has had its influence on

prestidigitation. A modern conjurer who does not claim some knowledge of

the occult, or, at least, who has not traveled in the Orient, cuts but

little figure in public estimation. Every now and then some enterprising

wizard rushes into print and exploits his weird adventures in Egypt and

India, the birthplaces of magic and mystery. Every intelligent reader

reads between the lines, but the extravagant stories of Oriental

witchery have their effect on certain impressionable minds. The magician

Kellar is a reputed Oriental tourist. He has journeyed, according to his

own account, in the wilds of India, witnessed fakir-miracles at the

courts of Mohammedan Rajahs, hobnobbed with Mahatmas in Tibetan

lamaseries, and studied the black, blue, and white art in all its

ramifications. In one of his recent advertisements he says: “Success

crowns the season of Kellar, the Great American Magician. His Oriental

magic, the result of years of original research in India, enables him to

present new illusions that are triumphs of art, and attract enormous

houses--dazing, delighting, dumbfounding, and dazzling theater-goers.”

BOOK I.

_CONJURERS’ TRICKS AND STAGE ILLUSIONS._

CHAPTER I.

MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCES.

The fascination which the general public finds in clever tricks and

illusions is little to be wondered at, but it is a mistake to suppose

that all the outfit which the modern magician needs is a few paper

roses, a pack of cards, some coins, and a wand. The fact of the matter

is, that usually the most entertaining tricks are those which are

produced at considerable expense in the way of apparatus and stage

fittings. It is for this very reason that the secret of the illusion is

always so closely guarded by the prestidigitateur. After a series of

sleight-of-hand tricks the magician usually leads up to what might be

called “set pieces” in contradistinction to the sleight-of-hand tricks.

Chief among the more important illusions are the wonderful cabinets and

other articles of furniture which enable the wizard to make away with

his assistants. We will describe a number of these arrangements for

“mysterious disappearances” before proceeding with the mirror and other

optical tricks to which the _fin de siècle_ magician is so largely

indebted. All of these illusions, as they depend upon pre-arranged

machinery, afford an introduction to the tricks which, though much

simpler, require a certain amount of aptness in manipulation.

“VANITY FAIR.”

The first illusion presents the disappearance of a lady, apparently

through a solid looking glass. The method used is remarkably ingenious.

A large pier glass in an ornamental frame is wheeled upon the stage. The

glass reaches down within about two feet of the floor, so that every one

can see under it. The only peculiarities which a skilled observer would

be apt to notice are a wide panel extending across the top of the frame

and a bar crossing the glass some four feet from the floor. The first is

ostensibly for artistic effect--it really is essential to the illusion.

The horizontal piece purports to be used in connection with a pair of

brackets to support a glass shelf on which the lady stands--it also is

essential to the illusion.

[Illustration: SCREENING THE LADY.]

Brackets are attached to the frame, one on each side, at the level of

the transverse piece, and a couple of curtains are carried by curtain

poles or rods extending outward from the sides of the frame. Across the

ends of the brackets a rod or bar is placed and a plate of glass rests

as a shelf with one end on the rod and the other on the horizontal

piece, thus impressing upon the audience the utility of the crosspiece.

Its real function is not revealed.

A lady steps upon the shelf, using a step-ladder to reach it. She at

once turns to the glass and begins inspecting her reflection. The

exhibitor turns her with her face to the audience and she again turns

back. This gives some byplay, and it also leaves her with her back to

the audience, which is desirable for the performance of the deception. A

screen is now placed around her. The screen is so narrow that a

considerable portion of the mirror shows on each side of it. All is

quiet for a moment, and then the screen is taken down and the lady has

disappeared. The mystification is completed by the removal of the

portable mirror, it being thus made evident that the performer is not

hidden behind it.

[Illustration: THE DISAPPEARANCE EXPLAINED.]

Two of our cuts illustrate the performance as seen by the audience, the

second explains the illusion. The mirror is really in two sections, the

apparently innocent crossbar concealing the top of the lower one. The

large upper section is placed just back of the lower piece, so that its

lower end slides down behind it. This upper section moves up and down in

the frame like a window sash, and to make this possible without the

audience discerning it the wide panel across the top of the frame is

provided. When the glass is pushed up, its upper portion goes back of

the panel, so that its upper edge is concealed.

Out of the lower portion of the same mirror a piece is cut, leaving an

opening large enough to admit of the passage of the person of the lady.

The second cut, with this description, explains everything. The mirror

as brought out on the stage has its large upper section in its lowest

position. The notched portion lies behind the lower section, so that the

notch is completely hidden from the audience. When the glass shelf is

put in place, the performer steps upon it and is screened from view. The

counterpoised glass is raised like a window sash, exposing the notch.

The screen is just wide enough to conceal the notch, the fact that a

margin of the mirror shows on each side of the screen still further

masking the deception. From the scene piece back of the mirror an

inclined platform is projected to the opening in the mirror. Through the

opening the lady creeps and by the assistant is drawn away behind the

scene; then the platform is removed, the glass is pushed down again,

and, the screen being removed, there is no lady to be seen. The fact

that some of the mirror was visible during the entire operation greatly

increases the mystery. The lady passes through the notch feet foremost,

and her position, facing the mirror, makes this the easier.

[Illustration: THE LADY HAS VANISHED.]

“AFTER THE FLOOD.”

In this illusion the curtain rises and shows upon the stage what is to

be interpreted as a representation of Noah’s ark, a rectangular box with

ends added to it, which, curving upward, give it a boat-like aspect. It

stands upon two horses or trestles. The cut, Fig. 3, shows the ark in

its entirety. The exhibitor opens it on all sides, swinging down the

ends and the front and back lids, and raising the top as shown in Fig.

1. It will be noticed by the observant spectator that the back lid is

first dropped and that the assistant helps throughout, the reason of

which will be seen later. The skeleton or frame of the structure is now

disclosed and it is seen to be completely empty. It is now closed, this

time the back lid being swung into place last, and all is ready for the

flood. This is represented by the water poured in _ad libitum_ through a

funnel inserted in an aperture in the upper corner. To the audience it

seems as if the ark were being filled with water. In reality, the water

simply runs through a pipe, carried through one of the legs of the

trestle, and so down beneath the stage. The management of the flood is

illustrated in our cut, Fig. 2.

[Illustration: THE ARK OPENED FOR INSPECTION.]

[Illustration: THE FLOOD.]

[Illustration: TAKING OUT THE BIRDS AND ANIMALS.]

After the flood the exit of the animals from the ark is next to be

attended to. Opening windows in its front, a quantity of animals and

birds are taken out as shown in Fig. 3. Ducks, chickens, pigeons, cats,

dogs, and a pig are removed and run around on the stage or fly about,

and it is wondered how so small an inclosure could contain such a

collection. It is also to be observed that none of the animals are

wet--the water has not reached them. More, however, is to follow, for

the exhibitor now lets down the front, and a beautiful Eastern woman,

Fig. 4, reclines gracefully in the center of the ark, which has only

room enough to accommodate her. Where the animals came from, and how

they and the woman could be found in the ark, which, when opened before

the audience, seemed completely empty, and how they escaped the water,

are the mysteries to be solved.

[Illustration: THE LADY TENANT OF THE ARK.]

Our cut, Fig. 5, completes the explanation. The ends which are swung up

and down in the preliminary exhibition of the ark are the receptacles

which accommodate the animals and birds. They are stowed away in these,

are swung up and down with them, and are taken out through apertures in

their fronts.

[Illustration: THE MYSTERY EXPLAINED.]

The woman, the other tenant, is fastened originally to the back lid.

When the ark is opened for inspection, this lid is swung down,

ostensibly to enable the audience to see through the ark--in reality to

prevent them from seeing through the illusion. For, as stated, it is

swung down before the front is opened, and as it goes down the woman

goes with it, and remains attached to it and out of sight of the

audience, who only see the rear side of the door as it is lowered. Fig.

5 shows the rear view of the ark when open, with the woman in place on

the rear lid, and also shows the animals in place in the side

compartments.

The illusion is exceedingly effective, and is received with high

appreciation by the audience. To those who understand it, the

performance is of heightened interest.

“THE MAGIC PALANQUIN.”

The heroine in this play was presented on the stage in a palanquin

carried by four slaves. At a given moment the curtains were drawn and

then immediately opened, when it was seen that the actress had

disappeared; and yet the palanquin was well isolated on the shoulders of

the carriers, who resumed their journey and carried it off the stage.

[Illustration: THE MAGIC PALANQUIN.]

This trick, which preceded by many years Buatier de Kolta’s experiment,

in which also a woman was made to disappear, but by an entirely

different process, as will be explained later on in this chapter, was

performed as follows: The four uprights arranged at the four corners of

the apparatus were hollow, and each contained at the top a pulley over

which a cord passed. These cords were attached by one end to the double

bottom of the palanquin, and by the other end to a counterpoise

concealed in the canopy.

At the precise moment at which the curtains were drawn, the carriers

disengaged the counterpoises, which, sliding within the uprights,

rapidly raised the double bottom, with the actress, up to the interior

of the canopy. The person thus made to disappear was quite slender and

took such a position as to occupy as little space as possible. By making

the shadows of the mouldings of the canopy and columns more pronounced

through painting, and by exaggerating them, the affair was given an

appearance of lightness that perplexed the most distrustful spectator.

“CASSADAGA PROPAGANDA.”

One of the most mysterious among Kellar’s repertory of successful

illusions is the “Cassadaga Propaganda,” an explanation of which is

herewith presented.

[Illustration: THE CABINET OPEN FOR INSPECTION.]

The effect as produced on the spectators will first be outlined. A sheet

of plate glass about sixteen by sixty inches in size is placed upon the

backs of two chairs, and on it is erected a small beautifully finished

cabinet consisting of four pieces, of which the sides are hinged to the

back, and which, with the front, are seen resting on a chair at the side

of the stage. When erected, the cabinet is forty-two inches high,

thirty-six inches wide, and fourteen inches deep.

Tambourines and bells are placed in the cabinet and the doors closed,

when the instruments instantly began playing and are then thrown out at

the top of the cabinet. The cabinet is now opened and found to be empty.

A slate placed in the cabinet has a message written thereon. In fact,

all manifestations usually exhibited in the large cabinets are produced,

and yet this cabinet is apparently not large enough to contain a person.

We say apparently not large enough; for, in reality, the whole secret

consists in a small person, or an intelligent child of ten or twelve

years of age, being suspended by invisible wires behind the back of the

cabinet, where there is a small shelf on which the concealed assistant

is sitting Turkish fashion. This folded cabinet is hung on two fine

wires which lead up to the “flies” and over rollers or pulleys to the

counterweights. When proper wire is used on a brightly illuminated stage

the wires are absolutely invisible.

[Illustration: THE SPIRIT MANIFESTATIONS.]

After showing the chairs and placing the glass plate upon them, the

performer picks up the folded part of the cabinet and places it on the

glass, the counterweights overcoming the extra weight of the concealed

assistant. He then opens out the sides, places the front containing the

doors in position, fastening same by hooks to the sides.

The inside of the cabinet and panels of doors are lined with pleated

gold silk. There is a concealed opening in the silk at the back of the

cabinet, for the assistant to pass his arm through, in order to handle

whatever is placed within it.

Everything being in readiness, the tambourine and bell are placed in the

cabinet and the doors are closed. The assistant now passes his hand and

arm through the opening in the back and shakes the tambourine, rings

the bell, and throws both out over the top of the cabinet. When the

doors are opened the cabinet is shown to be empty. Clean slates placed

in the cabinet are removed with messages written on them; in fact, the

manifestations that can be produced in the cabinet are limited only by

the intelligence of the concealed assistant.

One of the cuts shows the cabinet with open doors as seen by the

audience. The second cut is an end view looking from the side of stage,

showing the assistant on a shelf at the rear of the cabinet, and the

wires leading up and over to the counterweights.

[Illustration: CHEV. THORN’S MAGIC CABINETS.]

The clever illusionist Chev. E. Thorn made great use of a variation of

the “Cassadaga Propaganda.” He used two cabinets, each large enough to

receive a person in an upright position. They were constructed of slats

and were provided with curtains. Screens of the same color as the rear

of the stage served to close the space between the slats. The magician

deceived the audience by walking behind the cabinet or cage as often as

possible when the screens were open so that the audience could see him

through the slats. The carpet on the stage, the back of the stage, and

the screen were all of the same shade of green.

The performers, usually a caliph and an odalisk, appear and disappear at

will, really taking up the place on the wooden stage at the back of the

cabinet. Usually two cages were used, one being suspended, and by the

use of confederates who were dressed alike some very clever illusions

were produced.

When the curtain rises the caliph stands on a little platform on the

cage at the left, hidden by the cage and the screens. Attention is then

called to the cage at the right whose screen is open so that the

performer can be seen when he passes behind it.

After the performer has demonstrated this he pulls down red silk

curtains over the side walls and the doors; the rear wall, however,

remains uncovered. Now a brilliantly dressed odalisk steps into the box

at the left. The doors have scarcely closed behind her when they open

again, the curtains fly up, and it is seen that the woman has

disappeared, and in her place stands a white-bearded caliph, while she

appears at the rear door of the parquette smiling behind her veil. She

passes down through the audience to the stage again. In the meantime the

caliph has left the stage.

What follows is even more surprising. The curtains of both cages are

pulled down, the caliph goes into the cage at the left and the odalisk

into that at the right. The cage containing the odalisk is raised on a

hoisting rope so that it hangs in midair with the doors open. The doors

are closed, a shot is fired; at the same instant the doors of both cages

spring open and the curtains are raised; the odalisk has disappeared

from the cage, which stands again on the floor of the stage, but, at the

same instant, she steps, as smiling as ever, from the cage at the left,

from which the caliph has vanished. The two cages stand open and the

audience can see right through them. The curtain falls and the

spectators rub their eyes in bewilderment.

The pulling down of the curtains serves to conceal the entrance of the

caliph in the box. When the odalisk is to vanish and the caliph to

appear he slips in from the board on the outside, while the odalisk

takes her place on the board behind the screen. The odalisk who appears

at the door of the auditorium and walks down through the audience is an

exact double of the real odalisk who is standing invisible behind the

screen on the board of the cage at the left. Owing to the peculiar

costume of the odalisk this disguise is rendered very easy. While the

real odalisk is standing behind the screen on the board of the cage at

the left, the caliph installs himself in the cage. The false odalisk is

then raised in the air in the second cage, through which the audience

has been able to see up to this time. A shot is now fired and just at

that time the odalisk moves very quickly on a board behind the screen

and the cage is let down and stands firmly on the floor, at the same

moment the odalisk in the other cage changing places with the caliph.

The swinging cage appears to be empty and apparently the odalisk has

passed through the air to the other cage. The success of the trick

depends upon making the spectators believe that everything is done in

cages through which they can see.

“THE APPEARING LADY.”

Of the many new illusions recently presented in Europe, an ingenious one

is that of the appearing lady, the invention of that clever Hungarian

magician Buatier de Kolta.

[Illustration: TABLE READY FOR THE APPEARANCE.]

On the stage is seen a plain round top four-leg table, which the

magician has been using as a resting place for part of the apparatus

used in his magic performance. Eventually, the performer removes all

articles from the table and covers it with a cloth that does not reach

the floor. Our first engraving represents the table in this condition.

On command, the cloth gradually rises from the center of the table as

though something were pushing it up. In a few moments it becomes very

evident that some one, or something, is on the table covered by the

cloth. The magician now removes the cloth and a lady is seen standing on

the table, as shown in our second illustration.

[Illustration: THE APPEARING LADY.]

The secret of this, as in all good illusions, is very simple, as the

third illustration will show. In the stage there is a trap door, over

which is placed a fancy rug that has a piece removed from it exactly the

same size as the trap, to which the piece is fastened. When the trap is

closed the rug appears to be an ordinary one. The table is placed

directly over the trap. Below the stage is a box, open at the top, with

cloth sides and wood bottom. To this box are attached four very fine

wires, that lead up through the stage by means of small holes where the

trap and floor join, over small pulleys in the frame of the table and

down through the table legs, which are hollow, through the stage to a

windlass. In the table top is a trap that divides in the center and

opens outward. The top of the table is inlaid in such a manner as to

conceal the edges of the trap. The lady takes her place in the box in a

kneeling position, the assistant stands at the windlass, and all is

ready. Fig. 1 of our third engraving shows the arrangement beneath the

stage, and Fig. 2 the under side of the table top.

[Illustration: DETAILS OF THE APPARATUS.]

The magician takes a large table cover, and, standing at the rear of

table, proceeds to cover it by throwing cloth over table, so that it

reaches the floor in front of the table, then slowly draws it up over

the table top. The moment that the cloth touches the floor in front of

the table, the trap is opened and the box containing the lady is drawn

up under the table by means of the windlass, and the trap closed. This

is done very quickly, during the moment’s time in which the magician is

straightening out the cloth to draw it back over the table. All that now

remains to be done is for the lady to open the trap in table and slowly

take her place on top of the table, and close the trap.

The top and bottom of the box by means of which the lady is placed under

the table are connected by means of three strong elastic cords placed

inside of the cloth covering. These elastics are for the purpose of

keeping the bottom and top frame of box together, except when distended

by the weight of the lady. Thanks to this arrangement of the box, it

folds up as the lady leaves it for her position on the table top, and is

concealed inside of the frame of table after her weight is removed from

it. A somewhat similar trick is called “The Disappearing Lady.” In this

illusion the process is worked in the reverse order.

“THE DISAPPEARING LADY.”

The accompanying figures illustrate a trick in which the

prestidigitateur, after placing a chair upon an open newspaper and

seating a lady thereon, covers her closely with a silk veil, and after

the words “one, two, three,” lifts the veil and shows that the lady has

disappeared.

[Illustration: FIG. 1.]

[Illustration: FIG. 2.]

The newspaper is provided with a trap, which is concealed by the printed

characters (Fig. 1). This trap is of the same size as the one that must

exist in the floor upon which one operates. As for the chair, that is

generally an old affair, without any cross rod in front (Fig. 2). It is

provided with a movable seat that lowers in order to allow the lady to

pass between the two front legs. It is provided, besides, with a frame

of wire which is invisible on account of the feeble diameter of the

latter, and which, attached to the back, is turned backward on the side

opposite the spectator. As soon as the lady who is to be made to

disappear is seated (Fig. 3), she causes the frame to tilt and cover her

head and shoulders. This operation is hidden by the veil that the

prestidigitateur spreads out at this moment in front of the lady.

At this instant the operator actuates a spring, which opens the trap in

the floor. The lady passes between the legs of the chair (Fig. 4), and

then through the two traps, the one in the paper and the one in the

floor. As soon as she reaches the floor beneath the stage she closes the

trap in the newspaper with gummed paper, and shuts the one in the floor,

and it might be thought that she was still on the stage, although she

has disappeared. In fact, the veil, on account of the wire frame, seems

always to outline the contours of the vanished subject.

After the operator has said “one, two, three,” he lifts the veil and

causes the wire frame to fall back.

[Illustration: FIG. 3.]

[Illustration: FIG. 4.]

Since this trick was first introduced it has been more or less perfected

or modified in its form, but the preceding description states the

methods generally employed in performing the trick. In some cases if the

newspaper is carefully examined, it will be found to be made of India

rubber and to contain a large rent at about the center. In the next

chapter will be described an interesting illusion called “She,” in which

the lady disappears while being supposed to be cremated. This ingenious

trick depends for a portion of the effect upon mirrors, so it is placed

with the other illusions requiring the aid of mirrors.

“THE MYSTERIOUS TRUNK.”

A trick known by the name of the Indian Trunk, the Mysterious Trunk, the

Packer’s Surprise, etc., formerly had much success in theaters of

prestidigitation. This trick, which may be presented in several ways, is

executed by different means, one of which we shall describe.

The following is in what the experiment consists: The prestidigitateur

has a trunk brought to him, which he allows the spectators to examine.

When every one is certain that it contains no mechanism, a person comes

upon the stage and enters the trunk. It is found that he fills it

entirely, and the cover is shut down. A spectator locks the trunk and

guards the padlock.

The trunk is afterward wound in all directions with rope, the

intersections of the latter are sealed, and the whole is introduced into

a bag provided with leather straps, and which may in its turn be sealed

at each of its buckles. When the operation is finished, the spectators

who have aided in the packing remain on the spot to see that nothing

makes its exit from the trunk, which has been placed upon two wooden

horses. The prestidigitateur then fires a pistol over the trunk, which,

when divested of its covering, ropes, and unbroken seals, is found to be

entirely empty.

The whole credit of the trick is due to the cabinet maker who

constructed the trunk. The latter, in the first place, is exactly like

an ordinary trunk, and the closest examination reveals nothing out of

the way about it. Yet one of the ends, instead of being nailed, is

secured by a pivot to the two long sides, so that it can swing. The

swinging motion is arrested by a spring plate bolt. When the person in

the interior presses upon a point corresponding to this bolt, the pivot

turns freely and the end of the trunk swings.

The following is the way that the operation is performed in order that

the spectators may not perceive the opening of the trunk. The operator’s

assistant takes his place in the trunk, which is closed and locked and

the padlock sealed. Some obliging spectators then aid in tying the

trunk, around which the rope is passed twice lengthwise, beginning at

the side opposite the opening part. The rope is then passed over this

part and runs in the axis of the pivots. Then the trunk, for the

convenience of tying, is tilted upon the end where the rope passes. It

is then that the assistant inclosed in the interior presses the bolt.

The end of the trunk then has a tendency to open, and as the

prestidigitateur has taken care to tilt the trunk at a carefully marked

point of the stage floor, the movable end meets in the latter with an

exactly similar trap that opens at the same time, and it is through

these two traps that the invisible vanishing takes place. As soon as the

assistant has passed through the trap, he pushes up the latter, and

consequently the movable end of the trunk, which closes upon its spring

plate bolt.

[Illustration: THE MYSTERIOUS TRUNK.]

The time that it takes the man to pass through the trap is

insignificant, and while the ropes are being crossed the operation

might be performed several times. Afterward, there is nothing to be done

but to proceed with the experiment as we have said, care being taken,

however, not to abuse the complaisance of the spectators, and not to

allow them to try the weight of the trunk.

When the vanished person descends beneath the stage, he is supported by

some other individual if the theater is not well appointed, and by a

trap with a counterpoise if the construction of the stage admits of it.

This trap permits of expediting things in certain cases of the

reappearance of the confederate, but is useless in the process described

above.

Such is one of the artifices employed. Whatever be the process, the

presentation of it is often complicated by causing the person who has

vanished to reappear in a second trunk that has previously been

ascertained to be empty and that has been sealed and enveloped under the

eyes of the spectators. It will be easily comprehended that the

operation here is reversed, and that the confederate beneath the stage

awaits the proper moment to be lifted into the interior of the second

trunk, whose movable end is opened outwardly by the prestidigitateur at

the desired moment.

Boxes with glass sides also have been constructed. The management is the

same, but, as the person inclosed is visible up to the last moment, care

must be taken to so pass the ropes as not to interfere with the trap of

the trunk, which then consists of one of the sides, and which operates

at the moment when the trunk, bound with ropes, sealed and laid upon

this side, is about to be wrapped up. This presentation has still more

effect upon the spectators than the preceding, and seems to present

greater difficulties.

“THE INDIAN BASKET TRICK.”

Among the most remarkable experiments performed by prestidigitateurs

should be cited that of the Indian basket, which, as its name indicates,

is of Asiatic origin. Travelers in Hindostan have often told us that the

Indians practice this wonderful trick upon the public places. The Indian

magician makes use of an oblong osier basket provided with a cover. He

takes a child and incloses it in this basket, and around the latter

buckles a belt. Grasping a sword, he thrusts it into the basket here and

there, and pulls out the blade all dripping with blood.

The spectacle is shocking, and the feelings of the spectators become

wrought up to a high pitch. The magician then opens the basket, which,

to the surprise of all, is empty.

At a few yards distance cries are heard proceeding from the child who

had been inclosed in the basket, and who is now running forward sound

and happy. Robert-Houdin, who studied this juggler’s trick, explained it

perfectly, and was able to perform it himself. The basket used by the

Indian prestidigitateurs is represented herewith.

Fig. 1 shows the basket open ready to receive the child. For the sake of

the explanation we have cut away one end. This basket is provided with a

double movable bottom, A C B, the center of motion of which is at C. In

order to make the child disappear, the cover being closed, the top of

the basket is lowered by turning it toward the spectators (Fig. 2). But

the bottom, B, and the part A, that depends upon it, do not take part in

this motion. The weight of the child lying upon the bottom forces the

latter to remain in place, and by this fact the part A C shuts off the

bottom of the basket (Fig. 2).

[Illustration: THE INDIAN BASKET TRICK.]

In order to turn the basket over, the Indian fastens it with strips of

leather, and, to facilitate this operation, places his knee on it. The

child can then easily hide himself under the robe worn by the magician.

Replacing the basket in its first position, the Indian inserts his sword

and sticks the blade into a small sponge fixed within and saturated with

a red liquid. While the attention of the spectators is absorbed by this

exciting operation, the little Indian escapes from beneath the robe, and

runs a short distance from the spectators without being seen. Houdin

says that when this trick is well performed, it has a startling effect.

In all the preceding tricks the magician has made way bodily with

assistants, we now come to a case of mutilation in which the luckless

clown must suffer decapitation.

DECAPITATION.

The means employed in this illusion is the old-fashioned “defunct”

method of decapitation, and although this lacks the refinement and

scientific interest of execution by electricity, it has a certain

precision.

[Illustration: A NOVEL STAGE TRICK--DECAPITATION.]

The poor clown who suffers the death penalty twelve times a week usually

enters the circus ring, or appears on the stage, as the case may be, and

after performing certain acrobatic feats, commits some crime against his

fellows, for which he is condemned to die. He is placed upon the block;

his head is covered with a cloth. Harlequin approaches as executioner,

and begins to cut with a huge knife across the victim’s neck. In a

moment all is over, the cloth is removed, and Harlequin lifts in the air

the severed head. Delighted with his trophy, he carries it about under

his arm, places it in a charger in the center of the ring, and finally

takes it back to the block wrapped up in the cloth, and places it by the

side of the headless trunk. He removes the cloth, and then in sport

places a lighted cigarette in its mouth. In a little while you notice

that the cigarette begins to glow, smoke comes from the nose, and the

eyes roll. Evidently the head has come to life. Not able to bear the

horrible sight, he throws the cloth again over the head, seizes it,

places it in its original position on the shoulders of the victim,

kneads it to the body, and suddenly the figure rises, head and all, and

bows to the audience--an orthodox clown. The trick is a good one, and

takes with the audience. The way in which it is done is explained in the

second cut.

[Illustration: EXPLANATION OF THE DECAPITATION TRICK.]

As soon as the clown lies on the box and his head has been covered with

the cloth, he passes his head through an invisible opening in the top of

the box. An assistant inside of the box passes up the dummy head, which

is an exact facsimile of the clown’s head and face. This is seized by

Harlequin, who makes such sport of it as he sees fit. When he places it

by the side of the trunk, in reality he passes it through an opening in

the top of the box to the assistant within, who substitutes his own head

(which is painted to match the other two) in place of it. The other

steps in the performance readily follow. The cloth which the harlequin

always carries conceals all the sleight of hand, and the whole

performance is a series of surprises.

Another performance of a somewhat similar character was recently

performed at a theater in New York, in which a clown throws himself on a

sofa and is cut in two by a harlequin. One part of the sofa with the

body remains in one part of the stage while the other part with the legs

and feet (which are all the time vigorously kicking) disappear through a

wing at the other end of the stage. The action is very sudden and the

effect startling. Of course, in this case there are two men similarly

dressed. The head and body of one of them appears at the head of the

sofa, while the body of the second clown is concealed in the box under

the seat at the other end of the sofa, the feet and legs alone being

exposed.

SPIRITUALISTIC TIES.

The following article is not written with the intention or desire to

antagonize any believer in Spiritualism, but merely to explain how

anti-spiritualists, as well as several professional “mediums,” secured

their release after being fastened in their cabinet. During the years

the writer (Mr. Caulk) has been before the public as a magician and

cabinet performer, he has met a number of cabinet test “mediums,” and

can safely say that all of these people who have come under his

observation have been imposters. This may be due, however, to the bad

fortune of the writer.

The writer has been tied with ropes, fastened with handcuffs, brass

collars, and chains, many times in many different cities, and by people

who were just as alert as any investigator of spiritualistic phenomena,

yet, unlike many “mediums” he has met with, was never exposed.

The methods used are many, some simple, others complicated, but all

mystifying. To the average auditor the most wonderful point is, how does

the performer release himself after being so securely bound? For the

benefit of the curious the writer will explain a few of the methods by

which he has secured his release after being fastened by a committee

from the audience. All anti-spiritualists, as well as several “mediums”

personally known to the writer, make use of these same methods of

release, or others founded on the same principle.

Among the many successful rope tests, the following is about the best. A

piece of soft cotton rope about six feet long, and of the size known as

sash cord, is securely tied around the performer’s left wrist, dividing

the rope so that the ends will be of an equal length. When the committee

is satisfied that they have made the knots secure, the performer places

his hands behind him, with the right wrist resting over the knots on the

left wrist, and the ends of the rope are securely tied together,

bringing the knots down tight on the right wrist. This appears fair

enough, but it is not as fair as it appears, because, while the knots

are secure enough, there is sufficient slack between the wrists to

enable the performer, by giving his right wrist a half turn, to withdraw

this hand from the rope encircling it.

The reader may say, “That is all well enough, but how and by what means

does he secure this slack?”

[Illustration: A ROPE TEST.]

In placing his hands behind him after the rope is tied about the left

wrist, he gives the rope a twist and knot with over the other, pressing

the twist down on the knot and covering the twist and knot with the

right wrist, which is then tied. When ready to release himself, the

performer gives his right hand and wrist a half turn, releasing the

twist lying on the knot, which thus becomes a part of the loop tied

around the right wrist, and enlarging it sufficiently to enable the

performer to pull the right hand free from the rope, when he can perform

any trick he chooses with the free hand. Our first and second engravings

show the formation of the twist, thus making the above explanation

clear. By replacing the hand in the loop and giving the hand a half turn

the knots can be shown as secure as when first tied.

[Illustration: EXPLANATION OF THE ROPE TEST.]

The “Spiritualistic Post Test” is among the latest and most successful

of mechanical fastenings. A piece of wood four inches square and three

feet long is given to the committee, who bore a hole through it near one

end, and then pass an ordinary rope through the hole, tying a knot in

the rope on each side of the post, pressing the knots against the post

so that the rope cannot be drawn through the post. The ends of the rope

are now unraveled, and the post secured to the floor of the cabinet.

[Illustration: THE SPIRITUALISTIC POST TEST.]

The performer, standing behind the post, places his wrists against the

knots in the rope, one on each side of the post, and the unravelled ends

of the rope are bound around his wrists and tied securely, and all knots

are sealed with wax. A large nail is driven in the top of the post, to

which are fastened cords that are passed out through the cabinet and

held by members of the committee in order that they may know if the

performer moves the post in any manner during the performance of any

test, such as the ringing of bells, etc. Fig. 2 of our third engraving

shows the performer tied to the post and the committee holding the

cords. The curtains of the cabinet are closed and the usual

manifestations take place.

Before the performance a hole is bored in the center of the end of the

stick or post, in which is placed a chisel-shaped piece of steel

sharpened at the lower end and blunt at the upper end, as shown in Fig.

3. The opening in the end of the post is now carefully closed and all

signs of such an opening are concealed by the aid of glue, sawdust, and

a little dirt rubbed over it.

When the committee are invited to bore a hole in the post, the performer

takes care to start the bit, in order that there will be no mistake

about getting the hole directly beneath the chisel concealed in the

post. When the rope is passed through the hole and knotted it is

directly under the sharp edge of the chisel, with a thin layer of wood

between. When the nail is driven in the top of the post it strikes the

chisel, forcing it through the thin shell of wood above the rope and

through the rope, thus releasing the performer, who can withdraw his

hands from the post and do any trick he chooses, and when finished, by

merely replacing the ends of the rope in the holes from which he removed

them, and holding the hands tight against the post, can allow a most

rigid examination of the seals to show that it was not possible for him

to have released his hands, and the persons holding the cords that are

fastened to the nail testify that they did not feel any movement of the

performer or the post.

The Handcuff Test is a great favorite of the “medium.” In this test the

performer uses any pair of handcuffs furnished by the audience, and by

them put on him. Yet, in a very few moments after he takes his place in

the cabinet, his coat is thrown out, but on examination the handcuffs

are found to be on his wrists just as they were placed by the audience.

As a final test, the performer comes out of the cabinet holding the

handcuffs in his hand, removed from the wrist but locked.

The explanation of this trick is very simple, but, like many simple

tricks, very mysterious. There are only a few styles of handcuffs made

in this country, and all that a “medium” has to do is to secure the

proper key for each style, which keys are concealed about the person,

and by the aid of fingers and teeth the proper key can be fitted to the

handcuffs. In some types of handcuffs it is impossible to get the

fingers to the key-hole. If such a pair is placed on the performer and

he cannot use his teeth to hold the key, he slips the key in a crack in

the chair or cabinet, which crack he makes sure is there before

undertaking the test, thus holding the key and unlocking the handcuffs.

As the space allotted for this article is limited, the writer will

explain but one other piece of apparatus used to secure the “medium,”

which is known as the Spirit Collar.

[Illustration: THE SPIRIT COLLAR.]

The collar is made of brass, and fits closely about the performer’s

neck. Through the openings in the ends of the collar is passed a chain,

after the collar is on the performer’s neck, and this chain is passed

around a post, carried back and through the padlock which is used to

lock the collar. By this arrangement the performer is fastened securely

to a post, at least it appears so to the audience. This collar is shown

in our fourth engraving. As seen by the cut, the collar is decorated

with a number of small bolts, which impart to it an additional

appearance of strength.

These bolts are all false with one exception. This genuine bolt can be

removed by the performer when the collar is on his neck, thus allowing

the collar to come apart at the hinge, as shown in the cut, thus

releasing the performer, allowing him full liberty to perform any trick

he wishes, and permitting him to again apparently fasten himself

securely. This loose bolt fits so securely that there is no danger of

any of the committee removing it with their fingers. The performer uses

a small wrench to remove the bolt.