THE MAGIC DRUM 249
THE SECRETS
OF
STAGE CONJURING
* * * * *
CHAPTER I.
THE THEATRE OF ROBERT-HOUDIN.[2]
Before I proceed to the practical discussion of my subject, it may
be as well perhaps to give a few particulars concerning the theatre
founded by me under the title of the _Théâtre des Soirées Fantastiques
de Robert-Houdin_,[3] in which I exhibited, during a long series of
years, the majority of the illusions which I am about to describe in
this book. And I fancy it may be agreeable to the reader if I prelude
my description by an anecdote whose details (if I may judge from the
effect which its mere recollection, after twenty years’ interval,
produces on myself) cannot fail to excite his lively interest.
I have related in my _Confidences_[4] how from a mechanician I had
developed into a conjuror; but I was not then at liberty, from reasons
which will presently appear, to state the singular circumstance to
which I am indebted for having been enabled to build my theatre with
pecuniary resources much more limited than such an undertaking would
ordinarily demand. I may now speak freely upon the subject, and
shall do so with the greater pleasure that I am thereby afforded an
opportunity of paying a grateful tribute to one whose noble nature
and delicate generosity the following narrative will illustrate. This
exordium will further serve as a dedication to the memory of my deeply
regretted benefactor and friend.
In 1843, when I was as yet only a clockmaker and constructor of
mechanical curiosities, I chanced to sell a chronometer-clock to the
Count de l’Escalopier. This clock, to which I had devoted special
attention, was the cause of my noble client paying me sundry visits
in order to express his satisfaction with its performance. I had some
reason to think, however, that my customer, who was passionately
devoted to the arts in general, and to mechanics in particular, was
rather glad to avail himself of the excuse of offering a fairly-earned
compliment to the mechanician, in order to pay me an occasional call.
He was sure to find, at each visit, some new curiosity in course of
construction, and he used, without ceremony, to take his seat beside my
workbench in order to watch me at work.
At the date I speak of, as I have elsewhere mentioned, while employed
with my workpeople in the production of articles of a saleable
character, I was engaged in the fabrication of sundry mechanical
pieces destined to figure, though possibly at a very remote date, in
the public performances which I intended some day to give.
A kind of intimacy having thus become established between M. de
l’Escalopier and myself, I was naturally led to talk to him of my
projects of appearing in public; and, in order to justify them, I
had given him, on more than one occasion, specimens of my skill in
sleight-of-hand. Prompted doubtless by his friendly feelings, my
spectator steadily applauded me, and gave me the warmest encouragement
to put my schemes into actual practice. Count de l’Escalopier, who was
the possessor of a considerable fortune, lived in one of those splendid
houses which surround the square which has been called _Royale_, or
_des Vosges_, according to the colour of the flag of our masters of the
time being. I myself lived in a humble lodging in the _Rue de Vendôme_,
in the _Marais_, but the wide disproportion in the style of our
respective dwelling-places did not prevent the nobleman and the artist
from addressing each other as “my dear neighbour,” or sometimes even as
“my dear friend.”
My neighbour then being, as I have just stated, warmly interested in
my projects, was constantly talking of them; and in order to give me
opportunities of practice in my future profession, and to enable me
to acquire that confidence in which I was then wanting, he frequently
invited me to pass the evening in the company of a few friends of his
own, whom I was delighted to amuse with my feats of dexterity. It
was after a dinner given by M. de l’Escalopier to the Archbishop of
Paris,[5] with whom he was on intimate terms, that I had the honour of
being presented to the reverend prelate as a mechanician and future
magician, and that I performed before him a selection of the best of my
experiments.
At that period--I don’t say it in order to gratify a retrospective
vanity--my skill in sleight-of-hand was of a high order. I am warranted
in this belief by the fact that my numerous audience exhibited the
greatest wonderment at my performance, and that the Archbishop himself
paid me, in his own handwriting, a compliment which I cannot refrain
from here relating.
I had reserved for the last item of my programme a trick which, to use
a familiar expression, I had at my fingers’ ends. In effect it was
shortly as follows:--After having requested the spectators carefully to
examine a large envelope sealed on all sides, I had 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.”
I begged Monseigneur Affre’s permission to keep the autograph in
question, which he very graciously gave me.[6]
After the evening above mentioned, M. de l’Escalopier never ceased
urging me to “strike the decisive blow,” as he called it, and
was frequently quite importunate upon the subject. In answer to
these friendly solicitations I urged the non-completion of certain
indispensable apparatus, which, however, was not the precise truth. The
real cause of my successive delays was the inadequacy of my pecuniary
resources.
Whether rightly or wrongly, I was too proud to admit the fact, trusting
that hard work would sooner or later bring me to the desired goal.
However, one day, being driven into a corner over our often repeated
discussion, I was compelled to make a half admission of the truth.
“The very thing,” said the Count, in the heartiest manner possible; “I
have at home, at this very moment, ten thousand francs or so, which I
really don’t know what to do with. Do me the favour to borrow them for
an indefinite period; you will be doing me an actual service.”
I was wholly unprepared for this generous offer, and declined it. Why
I did so I scarcely know, save that I hesitated to risk the interests
of a friend beforehand in the uncertainties of my speculation. M. de
l’Escalopier tried various arguments to conquer my scruples, the cause
of which he rightly conjectured; not succeeding, he left me, evidently
somewhat annoyed.
It was some time before I saw him again, to my great regret--for I
must own that his visits, which had till then been very regular, gave
me much pleasure, and afforded an excitement which greatly aided my
labours; in fact, my noble neighbour had become indispensable to me;
and I had all but made up my mind to go and look for him when, one
afternoon, he made his appearance at my workshop. He looked greatly
disturbed, and appeared to be labouring under some strong emotion.
“My dear neighbour,” he said, as he came in, “since you are resolved
not to accept a favour from me, I have now come to beg one of you. This
is the state of the case. My mother, my wife, and myself are threatened
with a serious danger--I may say with a frightful calamity. This
misfortune you may be able to guard us against. Listen, and judge for
yourself. For the last year my desk has been robbed from time to time
of very considerable sums of money. Not knowing who was the culprit,
I have sent away my servants, one after another. I have adopted all
possible kinds of safeguards and precautions--having the place watched,
changing the locks, secret fastenings to the doors, etc.--but none
of these has foiled the villainous ingenuity of the thief. This very
morning, I have just discovered that a couple of thousand-franc notes
have disappeared. Only imagine,” added the Count, “what a frightful
position the whole family is placed in; the robber, whoever he may
be, judging by the cool audacity he has displayed, would be likely
enough, if caught in the fact, to murder one or more of us in order
to effect his escape. Do, pray, suggest, without delay, some means of
discovering, and, if possible, catching this rascally thief.”
“Count,” I replied, “you know that my magic power, unfortunately, only
extends to the tips of my fingers, and, in the present instance, I
really don’t see how I can help you.”
“You don’t see how you can help us!” replied the Count. “Surely, you
have a mighty aid in mechanics!”
“Mechanics! Stop a bit. You have given me an idea. I remember, in
truth, that when I was a boy at school, I did, by the aid of a rather
primitive contrivance, find out a rascal who was in the habit of
stealing my boyish possessions. Improving on the same idea, perhaps I
may be able to contrive some new trap for the robber. Let me think the
matter over, and to-morrow you shall hear the result.”
When I was left alone, urged on by that feverish excitement which
an inventor can provoke at will, I had speedily found an answer to
the problem propounded to me. I at once made a sketch of my intended
contrivance, and set to work without delay, assisted by two of my
workmen, who remained with me the whole of the night. At eight o’clock
in the morning the apparatus was finished, and ready to be fixed.
M. de l’Escalopier, to whom I forthwith went, had been beforehand
cautioned by a line from me, and had, under various pretexts, sent all
his servants away from the house, so that no one should be aware of our
visit.
While I was placing the apparatus in position, the Count, who did not
know how it was intended to operate, repeatedly expressed his surprise
at seeing my right hand covered by a very thick padded glove. I would
not, however, explain the secret until my arrangements were completely
finished.
“Look,” I said, after I had closed the desk, “let us suppose that I
am the robber. I put the key in the lock. I turn it as carefully as
possible; but scarcely is the lid ever so little open, when--” here the
report of a pistol was heard, and on the back of my glove, printed in
indelible characters, appeared the word “Robber.”
Wishing to explain to the Count the effect which had been thus
produced--
“The report of the pistol,” I said, “is to give the alarm, and summon
you to the spot, in whatever part of the house you may chance to be. In
the next place, you observe, as soon as the opening of the desk allows
sufficient space, this claw-like apparatus, attached to a light rod and
impelled by a spring, comes smartly down on the back of the hand which
holds the key. The ‘claw’ is, in truth, a mere tattooing instrument;
it consists of a number of very short but sharp points, so arranged
as to form the word ROBBER. These points are brought through a pad
impregnated with nitrate of silver, a portion of which is forced by the
blow into the punctures, and makes the scars indelible for life.”
Upon hearing my explanation, M. de l’Escalopier looked very grave, not
to say shocked.
“Good Heavens! my dear friend, that would be a fearful thing to do.
Justice alone has the right to brand a criminal. Such an indelible
mark, which the poor wretch could only get rid of by a horrible
self-mutilation, would be but too likely, by classing him permanently
among the enemies of society, to close the door of repentance to
him altogether. Such a course would be inhuman, indeed, unjust. And
besides,” he added, with a look of horror, “might it not happen that,
through carelessness, forgetfulness, or some fatal mistake, one of our
own people was the victim of our stern precautions; and then----”
I had, however, at the very first words of the Count perceived the
justice of his apprehensions, and interrupting him--
“You are quite right,” I said, “I had not thought of those objections;
but there is no harm done. I only ask an hour or two to make such an
alteration in the apparatus as shall leave you nothing either to fear
or to wish for.”
I hastened to shut myself up again in my workshop, and before the close
of the day I had taken back the instrument in an altered form. In place
of the branding apparatus, I had inserted a kind of cat’s-claw, which
would make a slight scratch on the hand, a mere surface wound, capable
of being easily cured. We closed the desk, and my neighbour and myself
parted company, to wait further events.
In order to stimulate the cupidity of the robber, M. de l’Escalopier
sent more than once for his stockbroker--money was ostentatiously
passed from hand to hand--a pretence was made of going away from home,
of a trip to a short distance, and complete absence of the heads of
the family. But the bait was a failure, for a week passed without any
result whatever. The Count, who came to see me each morning, invariably
saluted me with the same words, “Nothing as yet.”
The l’Escalopier household almost began to believe in the supernatural.
For my own part, I racked my brains in vain to imagine the cause of my
ill success.
We had reached the sixteenth day of waiting, and I had at last made up
my mind not to bother myself any more about the affair, when, early in
the morning, M. de l’Escalopier suddenly made his appearance, looking
much excited.
“We have caught the thief at last,” he said, wiping his forehead, like
a man who has just finished some laborious task; but before I tell you
who he proves to be, I will relate exactly what has happened. I was
this morning in my library, which, as you know, is some distance from
my sleeping-room, when I heard a loud ‘bang.’ Recognizing at once the
report of our ‘trap,’ but having no weapon at hand, I snatched up a
battle-axe from a stand of armour, and ran to seize the robber. In the
hurry of the moment, I acted, perhaps, rather rashly, for I had not
the least notion what sort of adversary I might have to tackle, and
my rather primitive weapon might have been but a scant protection.
However, when I reached the spot, I pushed the door vigorously, and
rushed boldly in. Imagine my astonishment, when I found myself face to
face with Bernard,[7] my confidential servant, my factotum, I might
almost say my friend--a man whom I have treated in the most familiar
way for over twenty years. Completely bewildered, scarcely believing my
own eyes, and not knowing what to think,--‘What Bernard,’ I stammered,
‘what was that noise, and how do you come to be just now in my room?’
“‘That is easily explained, Count,’ replied Bernard, in the coolest
manner possible. ‘I came, as you yourself have done, at the sound of
the explosion, and as I got here, I saw a man just making his escape
down the back stairs. I was so alarmed, that I hadn’t the power to
follow him. He must be out of the house by this time.’
“Without a moment’s thought, I ran down to the foot of the staircase
which he indicated. But the door was locked, and the key inside. A
frightful thought struck me. Could Bernard himself be the culprit? I
retrace my footsteps, and now the truth is evident, unpleasant though
it be. I notice that Bernard keeps his right hand behind him. I drag it
forcibly in sight, and showing the blood with which it is covered--
“‘Wretched man!’ I exclaim, flinging him from me with disgust, ‘there
is the witness of your crime!’
“The rascal, who, up to the latest moment, had tried to keep up the
deception, now threw himself at my feet, begging for mercy. I turned a
deaf ear, and left him, taking care, however, to place him under lock
and key first.
“You know,” added the Count, “my worthy doctor, G----; he is a man
whose advice is always worth having. I hurried off in search of him,
and told him what had taken place. After having discussed over the best
course to adopt, we returned to my house.
“‘Now, then,’ I said sternly to Bernard, ‘how long have you been
robbing me?’
“‘For nearly two years.’
“‘And how much have you taken, pray?’
“‘I cannot tell exactly. Perhaps 15,000 francs, or thereabouts.’
“‘We will call it 15,000 francs,’ I replied, ‘I will make you a present
of the rest, for I have no doubt you are deceiving me still. And what
have you done with the money?’
“‘I have invested it in Government Stock. The scrip is in my desk.’
“‘We took him to his room, where he handed over to us scrip equivalent
to the amount which he admitted having robbed me of; after which, I
made him write, then and there, a declaration in the terms following:--
* * * * *
“‘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--.’
* * * * *
“Lastly, the doctor, addressing the culprit, said, sternly--
“‘It is to your own interest, beginning from to-day, to return to a
life of honesty, and thereby to endeavour to redeem your shameful past;
if otherwise, this document, which will remain in my hands, shall be
handed over to the proper authorities, and you will be called upon to
supply in a criminal court the details of this confession. Now, be off
with you, and remember that you are forbidden ever to enter this house
again.’”
(I may here mention that Bernard died the following year, and his
former master, only too ready to forgive, shed a tear to his memory,
telling me that he felt certain that the weight of his remorse had
killed him.)
Having concluded his story, M. de l’Escalopier drew from his pocket a
pocket-book, took from it some folded papers, and handing them to me
with delightful cordiality--
“I do hope, my dear friend,” he said, “that you will no longer refuse
me the pleasure of lending you this sum, which I owe entirely to your
ingenuity and mechanical skill; take it, return it to me just when you
like, with the understanding that it is only to be repaid out of the
profits of your theatre.”
At this generous offer I was fairly overcome by emotion, and I remained
for some moments without being able to get out a single word. At last,
controlling myself by an effort, I rose, and flinging my arms round the
neck of my noble-hearted friend--
“Etiquette be hanged!” I said; “you must really let me embrace you for
your generous kindness.”
This embrace was the only security which M. de l’Escalopier would
accept from me.[8]
Thanks to this augmentation of my finances, I was able to give
immediate effect to my architectural intentions, and without further
delay I built, in the _Palais Royal_, a theatre whose interior and
surroundings I propose briefly to describe.
The galleries which surround the garden of the _Palais Royal_ are
divided into successive arches, occupied by shops which are, with
reason, reputed to contain the richest, most elegant, and most tasteful
wares that Paris can boast. Above these arches there are, on the first
floor, spacious suites of apartments, used as public assembly rooms,
clubs, cafés, restaurants, etc. It was in the space occupied by one
of these suites, at No. 164 of the _Rue de Valois_, that I built my
theatre, which extended, in width over three of the above mentioned
arches; and in length the distance between the garden of the _Palais
Royal_ and the _Rue de Valois_, or, in other words, the whole depth of
the building. The dimensions of my exhibition-room were therefore, as
will be seen, very limited; a couple of hundred persons could barely be
accommodated therein; it should, however, be mentioned that the benches
were comfortably divided into separate seats. Though the seats were few
in number, their prices were tolerably high, which made up for their
scarcity, so far as my interests were concerned. The reader may judge
by the table following--
Orchestra stalls 5 francs.
Private boxes 4 ”
Reserved seats 3 ”
Amphitheatre 2 ”
Children were paid for as grown persons.
At the outset, the portion known as the amphitheatre was called the
“pit,” which in truth it was. But, later on, perceiving that many
people were shy of occupying seats so described, I had recourse to an
euphemism, and employed the word “amphitheatre,” to designate the seats
in question. The alteration answered very well indeed, for among the
occupants of these seats there was a large proportion of ladies. My
stage was small, but in due proportion to the size of the auditorium;
it represented a sort of miniature drawing-room of the Louis XV.
period, in white and gold, furnished solely with what was absolutely
necessary for the purpose of my performance. There were a centre table,
two consoles, and two small _guéridons_;[9] a broad shelf, in the same
style, extended right across the back of the stage, on this I placed
articles intended for use in my performance. The flooring was covered
with an elegant carpet. On each side of the stage, right and left,
was a pair of folding doors, the width of opening thereby created
being necessary to allow of the passage of my mechanical pieces. The
accompanying sketch (Fig. 1) will render my explanation complete.
[Illustration: Fig. 1.]
The door on the right of the stage led to a room, in which, in the
evening, I made my preliminary preparations for my tricks, and which,
in the morning, served as my workshop. A large window, looking out over
the garden of the _Palais Royal_, made this a very pleasant room, and
it was here that I contrived the greater number of the tricks which I
am about to describe.
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[2] In the original a chapter entitled “_Introduction dans la demeure
de l’Auteur_” is here introduced, but being merely a reprint of a
similar chapter in _Les Secrets de la Prestidigitation et de la Magie_,
which has been already translated in our English version of that work,
it is not here repeated.--ED.
[3] The public materially shortened the above title, _Théâtre
Robert-Houdin_ now fully indicating both the place and the nature of
the performance.--R.-H.
[4] _Les Confidences d’un Prestidigitateur_, the title under which
Robert-Houdin wrote his autobiography.--ED.
[5] Monseigneur Affre, killed at the barricades in 1849.--R.-H.
[6] This slip of paper I preserved as a religious relic. I kept it in a
secret corner of a pocket-book which I always carried about my person.
During my travels in Algeria I had the misfortune to lose both this
pocket-book and the precious object which it contained.--R.-H.
[7] I change the name, for obvious reasons.--R.-H.
[8] The singular favour with which my performances were received by the
public, enabled me to repay my generous creditor within a year after
the opening of my theatre.--R.-H.
[9] Small round tables.
CHAPTER II.
A CONJUROR’S STAGE ARRANGEMENTS.
The furniture of a conjuror’s stage is not merely designed to please
the eye of the spectator, but serves, in addition, to facilitate the
execution of many of his marvels. The tables, in particular, have
important duties to discharge, for by their aid is generally effected
the appearance or disappearance of articles too bulky to be concealed
in the hands or the pockets of the performer.
The conjurors of the old school[10] derived great assistance in this
particular even from the ornamentation of their tables. These were
covered with richly-embroidered cloths, extending downwards to the
floor, as shown in the accompanying figure (Fig. 2).
[Illustration: Fig. 2.]
It was not uncommon to see four or five of these tables on the stage,
and sometimes even more. In order to mislead the spectator as to their
real purpose, they were loaded with candlesticks and other articles,
ostensibly intended to be used for the purposes of the performance.
In the background, the principal object, extending quite from side to
side, was a kind of sideboard composed of several stages, one above the
other, also loaded with pieces of apparatus made of polished brass,
which, however, generally speaking, had no connection whatever with
conjuring.
This miscellaneous but showy collection was rendered still more
dazzling by a considerable number of lamps and wax candles.[11] This
gorgeous exhibition, which the conjuror of that day denominated
_pallas_,[12] was simply intended, to use a homely phrase, to throw
dust in the eyes of the spectators.
When, in the year 1844, I undertook the erection of my own theatre,
I made very considerable alterations in my stage arrangements, as
compared with those of my predecessors. The most important was the
suppression of the long table-covers, under which the public always
suspected, and not without reason, the presence of an assistant to
facilitate the execution of the tricks performed. For these bulky
“confederate-boxes,” I substituted gilt tables and consoles in the
Louis XV. style, of which I subjoin a specimen (Fig. 3).
[Illustration: Fig. 3.]
The number of these latter was very limited: a centre table (that
represented by the figure), two side consoles, and two small light
_guéridons_. At the back a broad shelf in the same style, on which
were arranged the pieces of apparatus intended to be used in my
performance.[13] Those enormous metal covers, polished or japanned,
under which articles to be vanished had hitherto been put, were no
longer to be seen. I had replaced them with covers of glass, opaque or
transparent, as the case might be. Boxes with false bottoms, and all
apparatus of polished brass or tin, were completely banished from my
stage.
The decoration of my miniature drawing-room was of white and gold. The
visible lighting arrangements consisted simply of four girandoles,
and two small candelabra of crystal, placed on my centre table. But
in order that my audience might have a perfect view of the smallest
details of my experiments, I had fitted my stage with special
appliances, which gave a sufficiency of light without hurting the
eyes of the spectators. For this purpose, I had fixed just behind the
proscenium-border[14] a gas string-light,[15] with a reflector, which
brightly illuminated my centre table and my two consoles, the only
spots at which my feats of magic were executed.
The reforms which I had introduced in the form and ornamentation of
the “tables” did not by any means render them less valuable than their
predecessors for conjuring purposes, as the reader may judge by the
following details:--
As I have already stated, there were on my stage but three tables--one
in the centre and two at the sides; these last, which were in the form
of consoles, were fixed to the panelling of the side-scene. I had also
two little _guéridons_,[16] of the lightest possible description, which
I brought forward, as occasion demanded, to the front of the stage, for
any experiment which required close proximity to the spectators.
The majority of my tricks were performed at my centre table. The only
specialities of this table were a _servante_, with its _gibecière_,
and a set of “pistons.” I have already described in a preceding work,
and illustrated by a diagram[17] the arrangement and utility of the
_servante_. It is a shelf (behind the table on the side farthest away
from the spectators) on which are placed the articles destined to be
produced in the course of the performance. In the middle is placed a
small square box (the _gibecière_) made of cloth padded with wadding,
and quilted so as to give it a certain degree of stiffness. Its use is
to receive noiselessly any article dropped therein.[18]
The set of pistons, which is fitted to the under surface of the table,
serves to work the automata and mechanical pieces exhibited to the
spectators. These automata being supposed to obey the word of command,
it is necessary that their mechanical intelligence should be guided by
an assistant, and this result is obtained by the use of pistons.
A piston is a group of three steel rods; two of them are fixed, and
form what in mechanical parlance is termed a _cage_, the third is
movable, and may be made, by pulling the string attached to it, to rise
above the other two. A spring placed beneath, serves to bring the rod
down again as soon as the string is released.
When several of these pistons are placed side by side in a straight
line, they form what is known as a _set of pistons_. Supposing that,
as in the case of my own table, the set is composed of ten pistons;
the ten cords will travel right and left (over pulleys) down the legs
of the table, and passing under the floor of the stage, will terminate
at a “key-board,” to which they are attached in the same order which
they occupy in the table.
When the piston-rods rise above the surface of the table, they come in
contact with corresponding pedals in the base of the mechanical piece;
which pedals move, as the case may be, the arm, the head, or any other
part of the automaton, or whatever the apparatus may be.
The side tables, or consoles, fixed to the panels of the side-scene are
furnished with various traps, specially adapted for different tricks.
An opening made in the side-scene, immediately behind the console,
enables the assistant to introduce his arm for the performance of
whatever duty may devolve upon him. The under surface of the consoles
forms a closed case, so that articles passed through the traps cannot
fall on the floor. This case, which is about seven inches deep, is
concealed by the ornamental work of the table, and the gold fringe
which surrounds its edges.
Besides these tables, which are intended for the general requirements
of the performance, there are others specially designed for some one
special trick, and which are placed on the stage as they happen to be
needed. We may instance that which serves to vanish a human being, and
which we shall describe later on, when we come to deal with the trick
in question.[19]
The conjuror’s servant fills on the stage a like office to that which
is discharged by the assistant of a lecturer on chemistry or natural
science; it is his duty to provide the operator with all that is needed
for the performance of his experiments, and not unfrequently he gives
his personal assistance, unknown to the spectators, in aid of some
particular trick. The costume of the servant is a matter of taste, but
he should be of smaller stature than the conjuror, so as not to draw
too much attention to himself; a young lad answers the purpose very
well. I used to be assisted on the stage by one of my sons, who wore
the dress which the fashion of the day rendered appropriate to his age,
who at that time (in 1844) was thirteen.
There is a second servant, of whose existence the spectators know
nothing. This is the _alter ego_ of the conjuror, the invisible
hand which really effects sundry appearances, disappearances, and
substitutions, of which magic has the credit. This servant remains
behind the scenes, eye and ear constantly on the alert; and at certain
moments, duly arranged beforehand, he lends a hand in ready aid of the
skill and the “patter” of the principal performer. The due discharge
of this office demands great dexterity, constant watchfulness, and,
above all, instant readiness in execution. Women perform this duty to
perfection.
FOOTNOTES:
[10] As, for example, Conus, Bosco, and Philippe, to name those only of
whom many of the present generation will retain a recollection.--R.-H.
[11] Philippe may claim the credit of having reached the highest pitch
of extravagance in these dazzling exhibitions; he used not less than
five hundred wax candles on his stage.--R.-H.
[12] It was formerly a common thing, in speaking of a rich and showy
_mise en scène_, to say, “C’est très pallaseux.”--R.-H.
[13] I should state that the other members of the profession quickly
adopted these modifications, always excepting, however, Bosco the
elder, who, to his latest hour, would give up neither his short sleeves
nor his long table-covers.--R.-H.
[14] This is the term applied to the festooned drapery behind which the
curtain is hidden when drawn up.--R.-H.
[15] A “string-” or “border-light,” in theatrical parlance, is a long
gas-pipe, to which are fitted, at very short distances apart, fish-tail
burners, forming a kind of ribbon of light the whole length of the
stage.--R.-H.
[16] Small round stands or tables. See Fig. 1.--ED.
[17] See “The Secrets of Conjuring and Magic,” p. 284
[18] For a detailed description of conjuring tables, and the various
mechanical arrangements connected therewith, see “Modern Magic,” pp.
437 _et seq._ An improved table, not there noticed, is known as the
“Lynn” table, after the well known professor who first used it in
public, and claims to divide with a certain noble amateur the honour
of its invention. Its speciality is that, by an ingenious mechanical
arrangement, both back and front may be shown without suggesting the
presence of a _servante_, and that to further prove its innocence of
mechanism, a drawer, apparently occupying the whole body of the table,
may be taken completely out, shown empty, and replaced, though the
interior of the table is, in fact, fully “loaded” with the requirements
of the performance. The table in question has been further improved, in
certain details of construction, by Mr. Bland, of New Oxford Street, a
leading manufacturer of magical apparatus, and in its final shape forms
as perfect a conjuring table as any performer could desire.
We are indebted to Mr. Bland, above named, for the opportunity of
examining a “magic chair,” which possesses many of the advantages of a
mechanical table, in addition to sundry special faculties of its own.
In appearance it is a handsome drawing-room chair, with a figured cloth
seat and open back. In the first place, the upright centre rail of the
back revolves, and so discloses a borrowed watch, after the manner of
the Watch Target (_see_ “Modern Magic,” p. 200). At the back of the top
rail is a cunningly-devised apparatus for instantaneously producing
three cards, which, by an ingenious arrangement, are made to fold
down behind the back till wanted (in which condition they are quite
invisible). At the word of the performer, they spring up above the top
rail, at the same time spreading fanwise, the marvel being where they
could possibly have been concealed.
The production of the cards and watch, as above, is effected by a
single string, pulled by the assistant behind the scenes, and which
may, at the pleasure of the performer, be made to produce either the
cards only, the watch only, or both together. The seat of the chair
contains a piston for working mechanical pieces, the same string
already mentioned being made by an instantaneously effected alteration,
to perform this duty also. Two other strings serve to actuate an
elaborate mechanical trap in the seat, producing a succession of
startling changes: while the hinder part of the seat, which is open on
the side remote from the spectators, serves at need as a receptacle for
a bowl of gold-fish, or any other article the performer may desire to
produce or get rid of.--ED.
[19] This intention was never carried into effect by Robert-Houdin. For
a brief description of a similar table, see “Modern Magic,” p. 449.--ED.
CHAPTER III.
HANDKERCHIEF TRICKS.
Among the articles which the spectators are in the habit of entrusting
to conjurors for the execution of their tricks, handkerchiefs, both
silk and cambric, play a prominent part.
I propose to give, in due course, a description of the various tricks
in which handkerchiefs are specially concerned, such as the _Orange
Tree_, the _Handkerchief Cut up and Restored_, the _Instantaneous
Combustion_, etc.[20]
Here is, meanwhile, a pretty little trick (as yet unpublished)
performed with a handkerchief, and which I used at my séances as a kind
of interlude. I can recommend it as producing a very great effect.
* * * * *
_The Handkerchief which Vanishes in the Hand._--“The magicians of old,”
you remark, “were not subject to any of the minor inconveniences of
life. They felt neither cold, hunger, nor thirst, so long as they were
engaged in their mystic rites. Their close relations, however, with the
fiery potentates of another sphere exposed them pretty frequently to
a very high temperature, the effect of which showed itself in copious
perspiration.
“The wizards, thus playing with fire, were much troubled by water,
which streamed from their countenances; but they removed it by wiping
their faces with their handkerchiefs, just as ordinary mortals do.
“One of their number, who, I suppose, found this troublesome, hit upon
a curious expedient for shortening the task of drying himself; he
caused his handkerchief, after having discharged its duty, to go back
of its own accord into his pocket. I have discovered the secret of his
cabalistic process, and, if agreeable to yourselves, I will repeat it
in your presence.
“Let us suppose that, for the reasons I have suggested, I find it
necessary to wipe my brow. I take my handkerchief from my pocket for
that purpose. Here it is, you see.”
You wipe your forehead, and gently fan yourself with the handkerchief;
then clapping your hands, with the handkerchief between them, it
instantly vanishes.
“Do you know, gentlemen, where the handkerchief is? No? Then I will
tell you. It has gone back into my pocket.”
You again take the handkerchief out of your pocket, and make it vanish
a second time.
“You see, gentlemen, how much time this arrangement saves; you have
only to take your handkerchief out of your pocket. You have no occasion
whatever to put it back again.”
This amusing little interlude served the double purpose of gaining a
few moments in my performance, and of affording a relaxation to the
spectators.
* * * * *
The trick is performed as follows:--
1. Attach a handkerchief by its centre to a piece of string.[21]
2. Carry the free end of this string up your right sleeve, pass it
behind your back and bring it down the left sleeve.
By pulling the string in the direction of the left wrist, the
handkerchief is drawn up the right sleeve, The question is, how to
manage this imperceptibly to the spectators.
To that end, fasten the free end of the string to the left wrist The
precise length of the string is regulated as follows: The arms being
straightened and fully extended, the cord should be drawn tight, and
the handkerchief completely hidden in the sleeve.
It will be readily understood that, if you hold the arms slightly
bent and close to the body, the string becomes loose, and allows the
handkerchief to be drawn down out of the sleeve. By extending the arms
with a forward movement, the cord is drawn tight, and the handkerchief
flies up the sleeve with lightning rapidity.
When you first come forward, the handkerchief is in its place of
concealment; you place your hands behind your back, as though merely to
take it out of your pocket, but really in order, with the aid of the
left hand, to pull it out of the sleeve.
When you bring the arm forward, the handkerchief is held crumpled
together in the right hand, thereby disguising its secret fastening.
After the handkerchief has done its duty, you extend and elongate the
arms, at the same time smartly clapping the hands one against the
other; and these combined movements not only cause the handkerchief to
retire up the sleeve, but completely disguise the _modus operandi_.
The experiment may be repeated, if desired. You have only to put the
hands behind you, ostensibly to take the handkerchief out of the pocket.
* * * * *
This trick, I repeat, is extremely striking in effect. It may, perhaps,
appear somewhat difficult, but let not the student be discouraged; with
a very moderate degree of practice, it should readily be conquered.
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[20] These promised explanations were never given. The effect of the
“_Orange Tree Trick_,” as described by Robert-Houdin himself in his
“_Confidences d’un Prestidigitateur_,” was as follows:--
“I borrowed a lady’s handkerchief. I rolled it into a ball, and placed
it beside an egg, a lemon, and an orange upon the table. I then passed
these four articles one into another, and when at last the orange alone
remained, I used the fruit in question in the manufacture of a magical
solution. The process was as follows: I pressed the orange between my
hands, making it smaller and smaller, showing it every now and then in
its various shapes, and finally reducing it to a powder, which I passed
into a phial in which there was some spirits of wine. My assistant then
brought me an orange-tree, bare of flowers or fruit. I poured into a
cup a little of the solution I had just prepared, and set fire to it.
I placed it near the tree, and no sooner had the vapour reached the
foliage, then it was seen suddenly covered with flowers. At a wave of
my wand, the flowers were transformed into fruit, which I distributed
among the spectators.
“A single orange still remained on the tree. I ordered it to fall
apart in four portions, and within it appeared the handkerchief I had
borrowed. A couple of butterflies with moving wings took it each by a
corner, and flying upwards with it, spread it open in the air.”
Without professing to give precise details, it is easy to form a
general idea of the working of this very artistic trick. The borrowed
handkerchief is of course exchanged for a substitute, and the original
“passed off” to the assistant, who places it in position for the
_dénouement_, and then brings forward the orange-tree. Meanwhile, the
performer, partly by sleight-of-hand and partly by the aid of traps,
causes the successive disappearance of the substitute handkerchief,
the egg, and the lemon. (See the “Secrets of Conjuring and Magic,”
pp. 284 _et seq._, and “Modern Magic,” pp. 437 _et seq._). The orange
is then changed for others of smaller size in due succession, and
finally vanishes altogether. (For description of similar effects in the
_Crystal Balls_, see “Modern Magic,” p. 426.) The supposed solution
of the orange in the spirits of wine is, of course, merely a part of
the _boniment_ or _mise en scène_. The orange-tree, which is a marvel
of mechanical ingenuity, is constructed as follows: The oranges, with
one exception, are real, and are stuck on small upright spikes, and
concealed by hemispherical wire screens, covered with foliage, which,
when released by the upward pressure of a piston, make a half turn, and
so disclose the fruit. The flowers are hidden behind smaller screens,
similarly covered; in this instance, however, the screen does not
revolve, but the flower rises above it. A single orange, near the top
of the tree, is artificial, and made to open in four portions; while
two butterflies flutter out one on each side of the tree, and draw out
of the orange the borrowed handkerchief. The butterflies are attached
to the upper extremities of two light arms of brass, at the back of the
tree, working on a pivot at their lower ends. A mechanical arrangement
compels these arms to rise up behind the tree, at the same time
spreading apart, and so causes the butterflies to appear.
The _handkerchief cut up and restored_ has been worked, in various
forms, by successive generations of conjurors. (See “Modern Magic,”
pp. 246-249.) Doubtless, the method adopted by Robert-Houdin bore (as
indeed did everything he touched) the stamp of his original genius; but
unfortunately we have not been able to obtain any note of his special
working.
The _instantaneous combustion_ was probably produced by means of what
is now known as a “flash” handkerchief, _i.e._, a handkerchief so
treated with a mixture of nitric and sulphuric acid as to transform the
fabric, in effect, to gun-cotton. A handkerchief of this kind held to a
lighted candle, or merely touched with a hot glass rod, disappears with
a flash, leaving not even a shred of tinder behind.--ED.
[21] In making this attachment, you must carefully avoid creating any
impediment which might interfere with the passage of the handkerchief
up the sleeve. This difficulty is best avoided by _sewing_ the string
to the handkerchief.--R.-H.
CHAPTER IV.
THE LIGHT AND HEAVY CHEST.
Among the illusions which I have, from time to time, contrived, in
order--if I may venture to say it--to cheat my friendly spectators, I
do not think, modesty apart, that I ever invented anything so daringly
ingenious as the experiment I am about to describe.
I do not here allude to the “light and heavy chest,” whose secret I
have already revealed in my autobiography,[22] but of an addition I
made to that trick in order to throw the inquiring minds of the public
off the scent.
Even at the risk of repeating myself in the eyes of those who have read
the book above mentioned, I think I ought, in the first place, to say a
few words as to the manner in which I performed my original experiment
of the light and heavy chest; after which we will proceed to describe
the trick to which I now refer.
* * * * *
The heavy chest was a small strong-box, which, placed in a particular
spot among the audience, had the faculty of becoming light or heavy at
my command. At one time a child could lift it without difficulty; at
another, the most powerful man could not stir it from its place.
In order that the reader may fully comprehend the working of the
trick, I must, in the first place, give a short explanation of certain
electrical principles on which it is founded.
* * * * *
By the aid of electricity, as is now generally known, we can render
a piece of iron temporarily magnetic. This artificial magnet, which
is known as an electro-magnet,[23] retains its power of attraction so
long as the electric current circulates around it; but the moment that
the electric circuit is broken, the iron completely loses its magnetic
force. By this means magnets may be produced of such immense power,
that when a piece of iron is brought in contact with them, no human
power can tear it away.
It was upon this principle that I based the secret of the trick of
the “light and heavy chest,” which I produced in the course of my
performances.
In the middle of the pit, and upon a broad plank which served as a
“run-down” to enable me to communicate with the spectators, I made
an opening in which was fixed a powerful electro-magnet, concealed
by a thin cloth which covered it. The conducting wires were carried
behind the scenes, whence, at the proper moment, the current necessary
to magnetise the iron was to be despatched. On the under side of the
strong-box, which was to be subjected to the magnetic influence,
there was a stout iron plate let into the wood, and disguised by a
mahogany-coloured piece of paper, which apparently formed part of the
substance of the box.
These arrangements being duly made beforehand, when I placed the
strong-box upon the electro-magnet, a spectator would either lift it
without difficulty, or exhaust himself in fruitless attempts to move
it, according as my concealed assistant made or unmade the electric
circuit.
When, in the year 1845, I performed this trick for the first time,
the phenomena of electro-magnetism were wholly unknown to the general
public. I took very good care not to enlighten my audience as to
this marvel of science, and found it much more to the advantage of
my performances to exhibit the “heavy chest” as an illustration of
white magic, of which I alone possessed the secret. I also exhibited
it as an imitation of a spiritualistic effect, the fiction with which
I introduced it being as follows: “This chest,” I gravely announced,
“serves me as a strong-box when I have any money to lock up; in such
case, I don’t trouble myself in the least to put it out of reach of
thieves. I simply make a mesmeric pass over it, and I am quite certain
to find it again wherever I may have left it. I will give you a proof
of my assertion. Let us suppose that this chest, the lightness of
which you have proved for yourselves, contains a few thousands of
francs in bank-notes, which would be very easily run away with. Well, I
have only to pass my hand over it, like this, and you may now satisfy
yourselves that the strongest man would waste his strength in vain in
the endeavour to remove it from its place.”
After sundry attempts had been made to no purpose, I added:--
“And yet, at my command, the chest is no longer heavy, and you see that
I can raise it with ease with my little finger.”
* * * * *
At a later period, when electro-magnetism had become more generally
known, I thought it advisable to make an addition to the “light and
heavy chest,” in order to throw the public off the scent as to the
principle on which the illusion was based. The following was my method
of presenting this new trick, which to the eyes of the public, was
merely a second phase of that which had preceded it:--
[Illustration: Fig. 4.]
“Gentlemen,” I continued, “in order to prove to you that the additional
weight which I impart to the chest is genuine, and does not depend
on any external artifice, I will attach it to one end of this cord,”
(a cord passing over a pulley attached to the ceiling), “and if you
will hold the other, you will be able to form a fair estimate of the
amount of its downward pressure.” So saying, I hooked the chest to the
cord; after which, I requested one of the spectators to be good enough
to keep it suspended by holding the other end of the cord, which he
did with perfect ease. “Just at present,” I remarked, “the chest is
extremely light; but as it is about to become, at my command, very
heavy, I must ask five or six other persons to help this gentleman, for
fear the chest should lift him off his feet, or even carry him away
altogether.”
No sooner was this done than the chest came heavily to the ground,
dragging along and sometimes actually lifting off their feet all the
spectators who were holding the cord.
This marvellous effect is produced entirely by mechanical means; but
their operation is so well disguised, that no one could possibly
suspect the truth.
I shall now proceed to give a more detailed explanation, for the
purpose of which I must refer the reader to the accompanying diagram:--
On a casual inspection of the pulley and block, everything appears to
indicate that, as usual in such cases, the cord passes straight over
the pulley, in on one side and out on the other; but such is not really
the fact, as will be seen upon tracing the course of the dotted lines,
which, passing through the block and through the ceiling, are attached
on either side to a double pulley fixed in the room above.
One circumstance that favours the illusion is that, before the box is
hung on the hook, by pulling the latter the cord wound upon the double
pulley above unwinds itself, while the portion of the cord on the
opposite side is wound up to the same extent. Now, to the eye of the
spectator, this pulling of the cord to right or left produces precisely
the same effect as if the cord simply passed over the visible pulley.
To any one who has the most elementary acquaintance with the laws of
mechanics, it will be obvious that the strength of the person who holds
the handle of the windlass above is multiplied tenfold, and that he can
easily overcome even the combined resistance of five or six spectators.
This experiment cannot well be performed save in a place of exhibition
whose ceiling is not very lofty.
FOOTNOTES:
[22] “_Confidences d’un Prestidigitateur_,” vol. ii., p. 265, and
“Secrets of Conjuring and Magic,” p. 79.
[23] For the construction of electro-magnets, the reader is referred
to works treating of physical science, particularly those which treat
specially of electricity, _e.g._, those of Count Dumoncel and Edmond
Becquerel.--R.-H.
CHAPTER V.
THE HUNDRED CANDLES LIGHTED BY A PISTOL SHOT.
We say “the hundred candles,” in order to preserve to the trick the
title under which it has been generally exhibited, but, as will
presently be seen, even a larger number may be lighted, if desired.
This trick, which is, in truth, only the application on a large scale
of an old scientific experiment known as the _briquet électrique_,[24]
was first exhibited by the conjuror Döbler, in the course of the
performances which he gave in 1840, at the St. James’s Theatre, in
London.
In order to enable the reader the better to comprehend the arrangements
for the trick of the “hundred candles,” we will first recapitulate
those of the _briquet électrique_. The accompanying diagram (Fig. 5)
will assist our description.
A is the extremity of a tube or burner in communication with a
reservoir of hydrogen gas; B and C are two thin metal wires, whose
points are very near together. One of these wires (B) is insulated by
means of a glass support; the other (C) is fixed on a brass rod in
communication with the ground.
[Illustration: Fig. 5.]
When the gas escapes from the burner A, it impinges directly upon the
wick of the candle D, passing between the points B and C. If at the
same instant an electric current is communicated to the point B, the
spark will in its journey to the opposite point pass through the gas
and ignite it. The jet of flame thus created will in turn light the
wick of the candle.
Given a few modifications in point of form, and increasing the number
of the gas-jets, points, and candles, we have the experiment of M.
Döbler.
In the illustration which next follows (Fig. 6), the reader will
see the new arrangement complete. All the supports (S S S S) of the
conducting wires, however numerous, with the exception of the last,
are insulators. All the burners (G G G) are attached to a single pipe,
which keeps them supplied with gas. The letters B B B indicate the
position of the candles.
[Illustration: Fig. 6.]
As in the experiment already described, the gas is turned on at the
common main, and escapes at each burner. At the same moment an
electric current is brought in circuit with one of the insulated
conducting rods, and instantly leaping over all the intervals, sets
light, as we have said, to the gas-jets, and by their aid to the
candles.
To ensure greater certainty in lighting, the wick of the candle is
charred a little beforehand, and then moistened, by the aid of a
camel-hair brush, with spirits of turpentine.
The greater the number of interruptions in the circuit, the stronger
need be the current of electricity to enable it to conquer all the
successive resistances to its flight.
Formerly the spark was produced by means of a large frictional machine,
but however powerful such machine might be, it happened now and then,
when the weather was damp, that the quantity of the electric fluid
produced was inadequate, and that the experiment was a failure. At
the present day, with the aid of the Rhumkorff induction coil, the
performer need have nothing to fear in this particular, so long as he
takes care that the size of his coil is in due proportion to the number
of candles he desires to set light to.
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[24] Literally, “electric tinder-box.” We are not aware that the
experiment in question has any special cognomen among English
electricians.--ED.
CHAPTER VI.
THE GHOST ILLUSION.
The trick known as the “ghost illusion” is one of the most curious ever
produced by optical science. The apparitions produced by its means are
most startling in effect, and leave the spectators scarcely room to
question their actual existence.
Two persons, for instance, as in the accompanying illustration (Fig.
7), are seen upon the stage. They walk and move in all directions,
they are heard to converse with one another, and every indication
leads to the belief that they are beings of like organization, though
differently attired. In truth, however, the one is a flesh-and-blood
personage, the other but a ghostly shade, an impalpable spectre.
The living personage tries in vain to grapple with the phantom. He
slashes at it with his sword, and even passes right through its body,
as he might pass through a cloud of vapour. But the shadowy form shows
no signs of injury; it remains intact, and gesticulates as though in
defiance of its adversary, until at last it vanishes into thin air, and
the mortal is left alone upon the stage.
* * * * *
This singular illusion depends upon certain optical principles, which
we propose, in the first place, to explain, and to which we shall have
occasion to recur a little later in describing the stage arrangements
necessary for their dramatic development.
An illustration of the most simple character will at once enable the
reader to understand the principle on which the phenomenon in question
rests.
Place in a vertical position on a table a piece of unsilvered
plate-glass, or if plate-glass cannot be obtained, then a piece of
ordinary window glass free from air-bubbles or _striæ_, about ten
inches in height, and the same in width.
[Illustration: Fig. 7.]
Then place a lighted taper on your own side of the glass, at about
three inches from it, and behind this place a book, which will serve
the purpose of a screen. Fig. 8, below, will make clear the details of
the arrangement.
[Illustration: Fig. 8.]
On looking over the top of the book at the glass, you will see therein
the reflected image of the taper C, which is screened by the book from
your direct view, and this image will in effect appear to you to be at
D, behind the glass, at the same distance as the real object, C, is
removed from it.[25]
If, while still keeping the eye in the same position, you extend your
hand behind the glass, you can pass your fingers right through the
phantom taper, D, and this latter, which previously appeared to be
substantial, will instantly become diaphanous and impalpable.
If, in the stead of the taper C, you place in the same position
any white object strongly illuminated, you will have a miniature
reproduction of the ghost illusion as represented on the stage.
It is of course understood that there must be no other light in the
room save that which is essential to the experiment.
The effect produced as above may be explained as follows:--When a piece
of unsilvered glass is placed in a position in which it receives equal
light on both sides, there is no reflection from either the one or the
other of its surfaces. Such, for instance, is the case with the panes
of a window, so long as the outside and inside of the room receive
the same amount of light. But if either side of the glass is more
strongly illuminated than the other, the latter, in such case, loses
in transparency but gains in reflection, in precise proportion as the
light is diminished, the darkness in this case serving the purpose of a
more or less perfect “silvering.”
* * * * *
We will now proceed to trace the application of this principle in the
stage trick known as the “Ghost Illusion” or “Living Phantoms.”
Fig. 7 represents a scene between a spectre and a living being; and
indicates the general arrangement of the process employed to produce
the illusion. A plate of unsilvered glass, inclined at a proper angle,
is placed between the actors and the spectators. Beneath the stage,
and just in front of this glass, is a person robed in a white shroud,
and illuminated by the brilliant rays of the electric or the Drummond
(oxy-hydrogen) light. Matters being thus arranged, the image of the
actor who plays the part of spectre, being reflected by the glass,
becomes visible to the spectators, and stands, apparently, just as far
_behind_ the glass as its prototype is placed in front of it.
This image, in accordance with the principles of reflection which
we have explained above, is only visible to the audience. The actor
who is on the stage sees nothing of it, and in order that he may not
strike at random in his attacks on the spectre, it is necessary to mark
beforehand on the boards the particular spot at which, to the eyes of
the audience, the phantom will appear.
* * * * *
In order that the experiment may be completely successful, it is
necessary to pay particular attention to the following points:--
1. The glass must be of the greatest possible purity, in order that
it may not be visible to the spectators. The smallest speck in its
substance would tend to reveal the secret of its presence.
2. The stage should be very dimly lighted, and, on the other hand, the
actor who plays the part of “ghost” must be brilliantly illuminated.
It is only under these conditions that unsilvered glass (whose
reflective power is ordinarily but very slight) will produce a clearly
defined image.
3. The actor who plays the part of spectre must keep his body so
inclined that his reflected image may appear to stand upright. We shall
indicate hereafter the rules which must be observed in order precisely
to regulate the angle of inclination.
4. The reflected images of objects in plane mirrors being _reversed_
copies of such objects, the ghost-actor must reverse his movements
accordingly. Thus, if he waves a sword, it should be with his left
hand, so that his reflected image may appear to do so with the right.
5. The space beneath the stage in which the ghost-actor moves must be
draped with some dead-black material. But for this precaution, the
background behind him, being reflected on the stage, would exhibit
around him a shadowy outline, which might arouse suspicion. Black
velvet is found to absorb the rays of light most completely.[26] In
default of velvet, a thin cloth or simple woollen stuff will answer the
purpose equally well.
* * * * *
_Dimensions of the Glass._--The dimensions of the glass which is to be
used for the experiment are practically determined as follows:--
After having decided at what particular part of the stage the shadowy
form is to appear, you fix, in an upright position on the spot in
question, a deal board of the height and breadth of the phantom. Then
fastening a thread to each side of the base of this board, you carry it
straight across the flooring to the stage boxes, or those seats on the
extreme right and left which are nearest to the stage.
The angle formed by these two will indicate the necessary _width_ of
the glass for any position on the stage in which you may decide to
place it. The _height_ is determined with equal facility. You fasten
to the top of the board a third thread, which you carry in a straight
line to the highest seat at the opposite side of the auditorium. This
line will indicate the height to which the glass must extend, whatever
be its angle of inclination. The three threads in question represent
the extreme lines of sight of the audience. All eyes will therefore
necessarily find space on the glass for the reflection of the spectral
form.
It is obvious that in arranging the glass according to the limits
defined by these lines, the nearer it is placed to the spectators the
larger it must be, and _vice versâ_.
* * * * *
_The Angle of Inclination of the Glass._--Let us suppose, as indicated
in Fig. 9, that the phantom is to appear at the point A, distant five
yards from the front edge of the stage.
Such being the case, let us place our glass, G, a couple of yards in
front of A, and incline it at an angle of 20°.
* * * * *
_Position and Arrangement of the Ghost-Actor._--Let us continue the
line G downwards upon the paper till it extends about three or four
times the length of the glass. Taking the lower extremity of this line
as a centre, let us describe with a pair of compasses two arcs, one
extending from E to C, the other from A to D,[27] and join them by a
line, C D, which should form with the glass a like angle to that which
the line E A forms therewith.
[Illustration: Fig. 9.]
The plane and inclination of the line C D will be those which the actor
must assume in order that his reflected image may appear in an upright
position at the point A.
It will be readily understood that the more upright the glass, the less
sloping will be the position of the actor; but, on the other hand, the
higher will he be brought above the level of the stage. Under such
circumstances, the portion around the opening, being necessarily made
higher in order to conceal the actor, would also hide a portion of his
reflected image from the spectators in the orchestra or stalls.
Fig. 10 exhibits the optical effect of a glass placed according to
the conditions we have just described. The particular spot on which
the reflection appears varies with each spectator, according to the
position which such spectator occupies. Thus, for the spectators in the
topmost row, the reflection will be on the portion of the glass marked
A B, while for spectators at the lowest level it will be on the portion
marked C D. It will be observed that, whatever be the spot at which the
image appears, the angle of incidence equals the angle of reflection,
and that these same angles of incidence are likewise equal to the
corresponding angles of the reflected image which we have traced behind
the glass.
[Illustration: Fig. 10.]
When the ghost-actor is not called upon to move from a given spot,
he poses himself upon a support which is inclined at the necessary
angle, and which leaves him still full power to move his limbs as may
be desired. But if the exigencies of the scene require that he should
move from one spot to another, the inclined position of the body
creates a difficulty. However, as he can only be required to move in
a direction parallel with the plane of the glass, he may, under cover
of the robe with which he is attired, bend the leg on the side towards
which he leans, which will enable him to walk without much difficulty
with his body inclined at an angle of thirty-five to forty degrees.
But the actor’s gait under such circumstances is sure to be a little
awkward; and a better plan is to arrange behind him, at a proper angle,
a support, moving on castors, and which is easily concealed by the
drapery appropriate to his spectral character. This support does not
prevent the actor from moving his legs, and, thus sustained, he is
enabled to walk (apparently) backwards and forwards in the direction
in which the support travels. In some cases, the actor himself keeps
motionless, but the wheeled carriage on which he leans, being drawn
forward by a cord, causes him to advance towards the living actor in
genuine ghostly fashion. This movement produces a most startling effect.
The difficulty as to the inclined position of the actor may be avoided
by arranging in the position which he would otherwise occupy, and
parallel to the unsilvered glass, a mirror of comparatively small size
(say of about six feet by three). Where this plan is adopted, the actor
will stand upright before this mirror, and his reflected image therein
will be again reflected to form the ghost.
The necessary light will be afforded by a lamp placed in front of the
actor, and beside the mirror in question.
* * * * *
_A Novel Application of the Ghost Illusion._--In the year 1868, there
was exhibited at the _Ambigu_ Theatre, Paris, a melodrama (_La
Czarine_) founded on an episode related in my _Confidences_,[28] and in
which an automaton chessplayer, constructed by myself for that purpose,
played an important part. My _collaborateurs_, Messrs. Adenis and
Gastineau, had asked me to arrange a ghost effect for the last act. I
had recourse to the “ghost illusion” above described, but I presented
it in such guise as to give it a completely novel character, as the
reader will be enabled to judge from the following description.
* * * * *
The scene is laid in Russia, in the reign of Catherine II. In the
last act, an individual named Pougatcheff, who, on the strength of
a personal likeness to Peter III., attempts to pass himself off as
the deceased monarch, is endeavouring to incite the Russian populace
to dethrone Catherine. A learned man, M. de Kempelen, who is devoted
to the Czarina, succeeds, by the aid of scientific expedients, in
neutralizing the villainous designs of the sham prince.
The scene is a savage glen, behind which is seen a background of
rugged rocks. Pougatcheff appears, surrounded by a crowd of noisy
adherents. M. de Kempelen comes forward, denounces the impostor, and
declares that, to complete his confusion, he will call up the spirit
of the genuine Peter III. At his command a sarcophagus appears from
the solid rock; it stands upright on end. The lid opens, and exhibits
a corpse covered with a winding-sheet. The tomb falls again to the
ground, but the phantom remains erect. The sham Czar, though a good
deal frightened, makes a pretence of defying the apparition, which he
treats as a mere illusion. But the upper part of the winding-sheet
falls aside, and reveals the livid and mouldering features of the
late sovereign. Pougatcheff, thinking that he can hardly be worsted
in a fight with a corpse, draws his sword, and with one blow cuts off
its head, which falls noisily to the ground; but at the very same
moment the living head of Peter III. appears on the ghostly shoulders.
Pougatcheff, driven to frenzy by these successive apparitions, rushes
at the figure, seizes it by its garments, and thrusts it violently
back into the tomb. But the head remains unmoved; though severed
from the body, it remains suspended in space, rolling its eyes in a
threatening manner, and appearing to offer defiance to its persecutor.
The frenzy of Pougatcheff reaches its culminating point. Grasping his
sword with both hands, he tries to cleave in twain the head of his
mysterious adversary; but his blade only passes through a shadowy
being, who laughs to scorn his impotent rage. Again he raises his
sword, but at the same moment the body of Peter III. in full imperial
costume, and adorned with all the insignia of his rank, becomes visible
beneath the head. The re-animate Czar hurls the impostor violently
back, exclaiming, in a voice of thunder, “Hold, sacrilegious wretch!”
Pougatcheff, terror-stricken, and overwhelmed with confusion,
confesses his imposture, and the phantom vanishes.
* * * * *
The stage arrangements to produce these effects are as follows. An
actor, robed in the brilliant costume of Peter III. reclines against
the support, which is sloped as above described. His body is covered
with a wrapper of black velvet, which is designed to prevent, until
the proper moment, any reflection in the glass. His head alone is
uncovered, and ready to be reflected in the glass so soon as the rays
of the electric light shall be directed upon it.
The phantom which originally comes out of the sarcophagus is a dummy,
whose head is modelled from that of the actor who plays the part of the
Czar. This head is made readily detachable from the body.
Everything is placed and arranged in such manner that the dummy image
of Peter III. shall precisely correspond in position with the person of
the actor who plays the part of Ghost.
At the same moment that the head of the former falls to the ground,
the electric light is gradually made to shine on the head of the actor
who plays the part of Peter III., which, being reflected in the glass,
appears to shape itself on the body of the dummy ghost. After this
latter is hurled to the ground, the veil which hides the body of the
actor-Czar is quickly and completely drawn away, and the sudden flood
of the electric light reflects his whole body where his head alone was
previously visible.
* * * * *
Where it is desired to exhibit the ghost illusion in a hall which
has no space beneath the stage, it becomes necessary to modify the
reflective machinery, and to arrange it as shown in Fig. 11. Let us
suppose A B C D to be the stage, C D being the front, A D and B C the
“wings,” C the actor who plays the part of the spectre, H his image in
the glass, and G the glass itself, set at an angle of 30° to the front
of the stage.
[Illustration: Fig. 11.]
The actor, C, is out of sight of the spectators; but his body,
brightly illuminated by the electric or oxy-hydrogen light, is
reflected in the glass, G, and appears as if standing at the point
H. The letters I, J, K, indicate various “points of sight” among
the audience, and serve to show that, whatever be the position of the
spectator in the hall, the spectre must, according to the laws of
reflection, always appear at the point H.
* * * * *
After the various explanations above given, the reader will readily
comprehend certain stage arrangements which I have had made for my
own use in order to produce at will spectral apparitions, or, as the
English call them, “dissolving spectres.”[29]
The arrangement which I refer to is set up, for the amusement of myself
and my friends, in a summer-house specially built for that purpose in
the middle of my park.
In the case of this exhibition, there are no seats; the few spectators
who may patronize it stand in front of an opening, A B (Fig. 12),
representing in miniature the proscenium of a theatre. This proscenium,
or stage front, indicated by the letters A B C D, is within the
summer-house. The _annexe_, C E F D, is built out behind, and contains
the stage on which my optical illusions are displayed. This _annexe_
is so constructed that the sunlight may readily find its way in at the
trap-doors, I, J, when opened.
[Illustration: Fig. 12.]
G is the glass, which forms with the stage-floor, K, L, an angle of
70°. T is the object to be reflected in the glass, so as to appear,
when the daylight shines upon it, at S. This spot, S, is also designed
for the placing of objects to be seen directly through the glass, G, by
the spectators. The eye, O, indicates the mean point of vision of those
present.
* * * * *
With the aid of these arrangements, the following effects, among
others, may be produced. The scene becomes slowly lighter, passing by
gentle gradations from the first glimmer of dawn to full daylight.
There then appears, at S, an owl perched on a tombstone. A few moments
later, a statue of the Virgin appears, mixed up, so to speak, with
the gloomy objects we have mentioned. The outline of this figure,
growing gradually more and more defined, takes the place of the tomb,
which fades away from view. The Virgin, in her turn, undergoes a
transformation; her cheeks acquire a roseate tint, her features assume
life and expression, and the figure becomes animate under the guise
of a young girl, robed in white and wreathed with flowers. These
flowers gradually increase till they assume the semblance of a gigantic
bouquet, beneath which gradually appears a vase, which takes the place
of the young girl.
This scene might be prolonged indefinitely, all that is needed being
the substitution of new objects in place of those which have already
appeared.
* * * * *
_Explanation of the Preceding Scene._--Before the commencement of the
exhibition, the tombstone we have referred to must be placed at S,
while the statuette of the Virgin is placed at T.
Both stage and “auditorium” must be in total darkness. To that end, all
the openings, and especially the trap-doors, I, J, must be shut as
closely as possible.
Now, if, by the aid of a cord, appropriately arranged, we gradually
open the trap I, the daylight will by slow degrees illuminate the
object placed at S, which will be seen directly by the spectators.
After this trap is completely open, it should be again slowly closed,
while the trap J is proportionately opened. The sunlight will now fall
on the Virgin placed at T, and at a particular period it will be found
that the two images (direct and reflected) receiving an equal share of
light, will become confused the one with the other. But the image T,
gradually receiving more light, while the image S gets less, will at
last be alone visible to the spectators, and the substitution will be
complete.
The stage being now left in darkness by the closing of the trap I, the
young girl will be able to take the place of the tombstone, which she
may remove, or which may sink down below the stage, and she will remain
invisible until the last-mentioned trap-door, again opening, shall
bring the light to bear upon her. This opening is made simultaneously
with the closing of the trap J, producing, as in the former instance,
first confusion of the two images, and then substitution of the one
for the other. When the Virgin is in her turn left in darkness, she is
replaced by the vase of flowers, which is destined, to the eyes of the
spectators, to take the place of the young girl by a repetition of the
process already described.
Thus the spectator, placed at O, is made to see at S four different
pictures--namely: 1st, the direct image of the tombstone; 2nd, the same
object in combination with the reflected image of the Virgin placed
at T, which is afterwards seen _alone_; 3rd, this latter image in
combination with the direct image of the young girl placed at S, which
also is afterwards seen alone; 4th, this image in combination with the
vase of flowers placed at T, and whose reflected image is finally left
alone upon the scene.
In arranging this experiment, it is essential that the distances
between the glass and the various objects should be the same, so that
their real or reflected images shall meet at precisely the same points
on the stage.
* * * * *
The “Ghost Illusion” was invented in 1863, by Professor Pepper,
the manager of the London _Polytechnic_, and was exhibited at that
Institution, where it excited the liveliest interest.
In the course of the same year, M. Hostein, manager of the Imperial
_Châtelet_ Theatre, purchased from Mr. Pepper the secret of the
“Ghost,” in order to introduce it into a drama entitled _Le Secret de
Miss Aurore_.[30] M. Hostein spared no expense in order to ensure the
success of the illusion. Three enormous sheets of unsilvered glass,
each five yards square, were placed side by side, and presented an
ample surface for the reflection of the ghost-actor and his movements.
Two Drummond lights (oxy-hydrogen) were used for the purpose of the
trick.
But before the trick was in working order at its new destination,
several of the Parisian theatres, in the face of letters patent duly
granted to Mr. Pepper, had already advertised performances wherein it
was included.
M. Hostein had no means of preventing the piracy; unluckily for
himself, and still more so for the inventor, the plagiarists had
discovered among the French official records a patent taken out,
ten years before, by a person named Séguin for a toy called the
_Polyoscope_, which was founded on the same principle as the ghost
illusion.
In view of this unfortunate precedent, of which he was wholly
unaware, Mr. Pepper, though the undoubted inventor of the trick as
above described, had no alternative but to give way to his numerous
imitators,[31] and to acknowledge the truth of the stern axiom,
enforced by dint of many cogent illustrations, that “there is nothing
new under the sun.”
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[25] The reader will probably have noticed, in travelling by rail on a
dark night, that the light in the carriage is accompanied by a ghostly
“double” at a little distance outside. This is another illustration of
the effect above described.--ED.
[26] The illustration (Fig. 7) is faulty in this particular. With a
black velvet background, there would not, as a matter of fact, be
any visible _shadow_ behind the figure. Were there such, it would be
reflected with the figure on the glass.--ED.
[27] The French illustrator, by an oversight, has made A to D a
straight line, instead of an arc of a circle.--ED.
[28] “_Les Confidences d’un Prestidigitateur_,” the title under which
Robert-Houdin issued his autobiography.--ED.
[29] _Sic._ Robert-Houdin is but an indifferent authority for English
sayings or doings.--ED.
[30] A French adaptation of “Aurora Floyd.”--ED.
[31] Among these, the conjurors Robin and Lassaigne were the most
successful, among Paris exhibitors, in presenting the illusion with
adequate effect.--R.-H.
CHAPTER VII.
THE INDIAN BASKET TRICK.
The Indian Basket Trick was exhibited in London in the year 1865, by
Colonel Stodare, at his Theatre of Mystery, Egyptian Hall, Piccadilly.
It was asserted that the illusion in question had been brought over
from India by the conjuror-colonel; but in such case, as the reader
will judge from the following description, the original _mise en scène_
of the Indian Basket Trick must have been very considerably modified in
arranging it for exhibition before the British public.
* * * * *
Upon the rising of the curtain, the spectators beheld a wicker basket,
of oblong shape, placed upon a light, undraped table.
The colonel came forward, followed by a handsome boy, wearing with
native grace the traditional costume of an Indian prince. His tunic was
of white cashmere embroidered with gold, and his head-dress adorned
with a peacock’s feather looped up with an aigrette of diamonds.
“What do I behold!” exclaimed the colonel; “a descendant of that hated
race which has shed so much English blood!”
“Nay, I am only a child,” gently replied the prince.
“That will not prevent me from putting you to death.”
“Spare me! spare me!” shrieked the child.
“I cannot spare you; you must die!”
The boy sought to escape, but in vain. The colonel seized him, and,
holding him at arm’s length, thrust him into the basket, the lid of
which he closed and fastened. He then drew his sword, and after proving
its sharpness by thrusting its point deep into the flooring of the
stage, he made repeated lunges at the basket, thrusting it completely
through and through from side to side.[32]
At every thrust, the child uttered a scream of agony. The sword was
withdrawn each time, dripping with the blood of the victim. Then
gradually the shrieks grew weaker and weaker, and after a few moments
all was silent.
The spectators were under the influence of an indescribable horror;
ladies hid their faces with their fans, and begged for mercy. The male
spectators cried, “Enough! enough!” The audience were worked up to a
pitch of the most intense excitement; so painfully real was the bloody
drama. Colonel Stodare was within an ace of experiencing very rough
treatment; but all at once changing his tone, and smiling pleasantly,
he addressed the audience as follows:--
“Need I remind you, ladies and gentlemen, that all I exhibit here is
illusion? Calm yourselves, I beg, and rest perfectly at ease as to the
fate of my young Indian friend, who is at this moment safe and sound;
indeed, he has already made his escape from his narrow prison.”
Then, opening the basket, the magician showed it empty. The boy, in
truth, was no longer there.
While the company were still lost in amazement, the colonel with a
wave of the hand called attention to a private box, in which the young
prince, cool and comfortable, appeared, joyously taking his ease, and
kissing his hands not only to the company, but to his mock executioner.
* * * * *
_Explanation._--Colonel Stodare’s basket was placed on a table similar
in all respects to that which we shall later on have occasion to
describe in relation to the “_Decapitated Speaking_.”
Once fairly shut up in the basket, the child lifted a trap in its under
side, corresponding with the opening in the top of the table; then,
under cover of the two silvered glasses which extend from leg to leg,
he slipped down behind the screen thereby formed, and thence uttered
the screams of agony demanded by the _mise en scène_. Finally, having
played his part here, he passed under the stage and to the “box” which
had been reserved for his use.
A sponge saturated with a crimson fluid, and properly arranged within
the basket, gave the appearance of blood, and ensanguined the sword
which was thrust through it.
The reader will readily comprehend that, in the performance of this
trick, the colonel had to take care not to pass across the front of
the table. Without this precaution, his legs would have been reflected
in the mirrors, and the mysterious secret of the _Indian Basket_ would
have been a secret no longer.
* * * * *
According to Colonel Stodare’s own account, he brought this trick from
India, and performed it in exactly the same manner in which he had seen
it performed by the native conjurors. This statement is only partly
correct; the basket, indeed, is the same; but the _mise en scène_
differs considerably.
The Indians who, for ages past, have performed this trick on the public
highway, have certainly never made use of the famous mirror-table,
whose very existence, indeed, must be unknown to them, inasmuch as it
is of quite recent invention.
The consideration which in all probability induced the colonel to
alter the form of the trick, was that, in order to exactly follow the
method of his magical brethren, he must have assumed for the nonce the
traditional robe of the Hindoo magicians, which would scarcely have
assorted with his American costume, and the tokens of his military
rank.[33]
The genuine _Indian Basket Trick_ is much less elaborate in form than
that which we have above described, as the reader will perceive from
the description following, which we can guarantee as being strictly
correct.
The “basket” was exactly similar to that used by Colonel Stodare,
and we need not therefore describe it a second time. We shall only
deal with the disappearance of the boy, and with his subsequent
re-appearance among the spectators.
When the child is once fairly shut up in the basket, which is placed on
the bare ground, the Indian fastens the lid down with leather straps,
and to facilitate the operation, rests his knee against the basket.
The bottom of the basket being thus turned towards the performer, the
boy slips out through a cunningly contrived “trap” in the basket,
and quickly conceals himself under the flowing robe of the magician,
whose attitude renders his so doing a comparatively easy matter. Then,
while the principal performer stabs the basket with his sword, and the
general attention is thereby directed to that special quarter, the
little Indian, escaping from the opposite side of the garment, sneaks
away to some little distance from the company, and quickly returns
and makes his way in among the spectators, uttering joyful cries. The
magician then shows that the basket is empty.
According to the testimony of the person to whom I am indebted for
these particulars, the trick, thus executed, is completely bewildering
in effect.[34]
_Second Method._--There is another method of performing the Indian
Basket Trick, without making use of the “Sphinx Table.” Two simple
trestles in this latter case suffice to support the basket, which,
however, has a mechanical arrangement within to conceal and so cause
the disappearance of the child who has been placed in it.
[Illustration: Fig. 13.]
The accompanying diagrams will render the arrangement of the trick
extremely easy to comprehend.
Fig. 13 represents the basket open ready to admit the child. Fig. 14
is a sectional view of the same.[35]
The reader will perceive, indicated by the letters A B, a double bottom
working on a pivot at C. This movable bottom is more completely shown
in Fig. 15, but it has there changed its position, as we shall proceed
to explain.
[Illustration: Fig. 14.]
In order to cause the disappearance of the child, you turn over the
basket with its top towards the spectators. But the bottom A and the
portion B, which is fixed thereto, take no part in such movement. The
weight of the child, pressing on the bottom A, compels it to remain
at rest, and thereby the part B is made to fill the space which would
otherwise be left in the basket, following the dotted line in Fig.
14.[36]
[Illustration: Fig. 15.]
In order to be able to thrust the sword through the basket without
any risk of injury to the boy, the magician proceeds according to a
particular routine and with certain appropriate precautions; there are
marks made on the basket to show _where_ the sword is to be thrust,
and to still further guard against mistake it is agreed that the sword
shall be thrust in, in the first instance, only a very little way,
and that when it has once penetrated, the boy shall himself direct it
in such manner as to avoid being hurt by it. The basket is made large
enough to allow of the child withdrawing himself towards the one or the
other end at pleasure.
We have yet to explain how it happens that the performer is enabled to
exhibit the child in a private box, although he still remains safely
ensconced in the basket. To do this, the assistance of _two_ children
is required, who must be alike in stature, dress, and arrangement of
the hair. One of these children is brought forward by the magician,
who on some pretext or another (this depends upon the particular _mise
en scène_ adopted by the performer) states that he is about to shut
him up in the basket, but in order that he may be the less nervous in
his narrow prison, he ties a broad bandage across his eyes. The child,
alarmed notwithstanding at the preparations made, runs away from the
conjuror, but is caught again by his executioner just as he is darting
through a side door on the stage, and is forced remorselessly into the
basket.
The object of this little comedy is to effect a substitution of the
one child for the other. The “twin” child, with eyes bandaged in the
same manner as the other, stands close to the door in the side-scene,
and takes the place of the original victim, while the latter makes his
way to the private box, in which he is afterwards to appear. The new
comer, who is naturally taken to be the same child who a moment before
ran away, is shut up in the basket, and goes through the performance
we have above described; and afterwards, when he has been made to
disappear behind the false bottom of the basket, his comrade, whose
face, having been seen uncovered, is at once recognized, appears in the
box and waves his childish greetings to the company.
FOOTNOTES:
[32] There is a good deal of poetic licence about the above
description. It is hardly likely that Robert-Houdin ever saw Stodare
perform the trick, and, as probably many of our readers will remember,
Stodare’s “victim” was in reality a young lady clad in ordinary female
costume. The feat, as actually performed, was described by the “Daily
News” of April 18th, 1865, in the following terms:
“Colonel Stodare has introduced one illusion which, though often heard
of, has, we believe, never before been seen in this country--the famous
Indian basket trick. A huge hamper is placed upon a stand, so as to
leave a perfectly clear space between the bottom and the floor. A young
lady is then shut up in this basket, and Colonel Stodare makes repeated
passes through the wickerwork with a sword. The audience are horrified
while this is going on by hearing piercing screams, and by seeing the
blade come out dripping with blood; but when the cries have at length
ceased, and a horrible murder has (notwithstanding Horace’s caution)
been to all appearance committed in the presence of the assembly, the
basket is found to be empty, and the victim is brought back into the
room safe and sound. This part of his performance is unquestionably one
of the most startling feats ever exhibited.”--ED.
[33] We almost fear that this is “wrote sarcastic,” as Artemus Ward
would say, and that Robert-Houdin is here indulging in a little quiet
chaff at the expense of the “Colonel.” Stodare, though professing
to be American, was actually a native of Liverpool, and though an
unquestionable artist, was a very doubtful colonel.--ED.
[34] We will not venture to question the fact, vouched for by so
high an authority as Robert-Houdin, that the Indian Basket Trick may
sometimes be performed after the manner above described, but we doubt
very much whether such is the usual or customary method. It will be
remarked that Robert-Houdin does not claim to have himself seen the
trick performed by Indian jugglers, nor does he name his informant;
and it may be taken as an axiom that no person is qualified to give
a correct description of even the simplest conjuring trick unless
he be himself a conjuror. The recent performances of some Hindoo
jugglers (warranted to be the genuine article) at the London Aquarium,
have revealed to keen observers the fact that nine-tenths of their
much-vaunted tricks rest on the simple expedient of burying articles
in the ground beforehand (probably in some convenient receptacle) to
be clawed up again in due time with the fingers, under cover of much
pottering beneath shawls and inverted baskets. The great “Basket Trick”
itself was worked by the performers in question on the same principle;
the basket being screened from view for some moments by a fence of
heavy drapery (which fact the uninitiated spectator invariably omits to
mention in describing the trick), and the boy disappearing by means of
a trap-door through the stage and its superincumbent layer of earth,
and coming into the room again from some other quarter, while the
principal performer marched gravely round the basket, to obliterate
the traces of his passage. This plan could not, obviously, be carried
out in its entirety in India, where the jugglers almost invariably
perform in the open air. But what is there to prevent the conjuror,
or his “agent in advance,” quietly preparing for action by digging,
at some convenient opportunity beforehand, a hole at the spot where
the performance is afterwards to come off, and burying a good-sized
basket therein? When the critical moment arrives, the boy has only to
creep out of the visible and into the invisible basket, whence he can
shriek and cry for mercy to any extent, while the juggler tramples
the earth into good condition again, and goes through the stabbing
performance, afterwards showing the basket empty. Meanwhile _another_
little black boy comes running from some external hiding-place, and
thereby effectually diverts the minds of the spectators from a too
close examination of the basket, or of the ground beneath it. When the
performance is over, and the troupe are packing up their belongings to
depart, there will be but little difficulty in bringing the buried boy
to light again, the basket being left still in the earth to be fetched
away a few hours later, when there is no longer any fear of observation.
It is obvious that the use of the above expedient would not be always
practicable. The performer must sometimes be called upon for a specimen
of his powers where no previous preparation is possible. In such a case
he has another “string to his bow,” depending on the peculiar shape
of the basket used, which is a short oblong, large at the bottom, but
tapering upwards to the top, of which the lid occupies only the centre
portion. In a basket so shaped the lithe and agile Hindoo boy coils
himself without difficulty against the outer surface, leaving the
centre free to receive the stabs of the sword, and finally to admit
the performer, who steps inside and stamps freely to prove the basket
empty, while any lingering doubt is removed by the appearance of the
boy himself (really his double) outside the circle of spectators.--ED.
[35] The original says Fig. 14 “est la coupe de ce même panier
lorsqu’il est _fermé_ et qu’il contient le jeune acteur.” This is
obviously inaccurate.--ED.
[36] Readers who are conversant with theatrical appliances will
recognize this basket as being employed in sundry fairy pieces under
the name of the “harlequin box.”--R.-H.
CHAPTER VIII.
SPIRITUALISTIC MANIFESTATIONS.
The gradual rise and suspension in mid-air of a human being, the
uplifting of a table, and its removal from one point to another are
spiritualistic “manifestations,” by dint of which Mr. Home, the
celebrated American medium, for some time passed among us as a being
possessing supernatural powers.
Science has succeeded in reproducing these surprising phenomena,
and certain clever individuals have made them the basis of a very
interesting exhibition.[37]
These stage illusions have an advantage over the real (?) marvel, in
the fact that they are not in the least dependent on the goodwill of
the spirits of the other world, and never fail, therefore, in producing
their desired effect.
* * * * *
_Scenic Effect of the Trick._--The stage upon which the spiritualistic
manifestations are to be produced is devoid of all furniture, with the
exception of a table, to all appearance tolerably heavy, and a single
chair. The table is pushed back to one side of the stage.
A door at the back of the stage opens; a gentleman comes forward
conducting a lady, whom he introduces to the audience as a “medium” of
unusual power. The introduction completed, the gentleman brings forward
the chair, places it in the centre of the stage, and the lady takes her
seat upon it.
The pseudo-spiritualist in the first place relieves the lady of a large
bouquet which she is holding in her hand. This he places on one corner
of the table, and returning, with imperturbable gravity, makes passes,
more or less mesmeric, in the direction of his subject.
After a little while the lady falls, or pretends to fall, asleep,
and, still seated in her chair, rises gently in the air and remains
suspended there, without any visible support; she then, in a dreamy
sort of way, extends her hand towards the table, and forthwith this
in its turn rises in the air, and comes near enough for her to take
her bouquet, which, indeed, spontaneously offers itself to her hand.
The table then returns to its former place, and in due time the lady,
gently sinking to the ground again, wakes from her trance, rises from
her chair, and leaves the stage.
* * * * *
_Explanation._--The chair and the lady are lifted by means of a piece
of unsilvered plate-glass fixed beneath them in a vertical position,
and parallel with the spectators. The table is raised by a similar
expedient, but somewhat differently arranged. The preparations for the
trick are as follows:--
In the centre of the stage, and beneath the flooring, are fixed, in a
vertical position, two wooden uprights, with grooves in which a thick
but very clear sheet of plate-glass slides up and down. By means of
mechanical arrangements, the nature of which will readily be imagined,
the glass, sliding in these grooves, may be raised vertically above the
flooring, passing through a slot cut therein. A wooden slab of about
twenty inches square, securely fixed to the upper end of the glass,
serves to support the chair and the lady seated in it. This tablet,
when it is raised by the glass, is easily masked by the lady’s skirts,
which fall naturally over it.
The tablet, however, being flush with the floor, leaves, on rising, a
hollow space which it is necessary at once to fill up. To this end,
a second tablet, forced upwards by springs or balance weights, takes
the place of the first, again sinking down when this latter once more
returns to its original condition.
The glass which supports the chair, if only it is sufficiently thick,
need not be wider than the wooden slab. Its vertical position, indeed,
enables it to carry a very considerable weight without risk of breaking.
The uprights, in which the glass slides, may be joined together by
proper cross-ties so as to form a rigid framework. This framework,
which is mounted on castors on its under side, and runs on a small
tramway, may be moved to right or left, carrying with it the person
above, so as to simulate suspension in space. For this purpose, there
must be cut in the flooring a slot sufficiently long to allow free
movement of the glass.
The following points must be attended to in order to ensure the success
of the experiment.
1. In order to disguise the various slots and the edges of the
openings, the flooring must be covered with a carpet whose pattern
consists of stripes of some dark colour. A piece of the same material
must be in like manner duly fitted upon the lower tablet.
2. The lighting of the stage must depend only upon diffused light,
and must be so feeble as to amount only to a sort of twilight. The
precise degree of light, however, is a matter to be ascertained by
actual experiment. Neither the surface nor the edges of the glass must
be perceptible from any portion of the hall, and the strength of the
light must therefore be gradually diminished until that point has been
reached. The more remote the spectators, the less subdued need the
light be.
The ordinary “footlights” are not suitable for the purpose of this
illusion, as their light is reflected in the glass, and thereby
discloses the secret.
3. It is as well that the lady performer should be dressed in white,
and that the chair and table should also be of a light colour, so as to
be the better distinguished in the twilight.
* * * * *
The raising and movement of the table are effected by the same means as
already indicated for the raising of the chair; save that in this case
the glass is _above_ instead of below the object to be raised. Instead
of lifting the table by pushing it from below, it does so by drawing it
up from above. A slot is cut in the ceiling, and through this is passed
a piece of glass, which is fixed to the top of the table. The glass,
being raised by similar appliances to those which we have described for
the chair, draws up the table and causes it to move toward the lady.
The one trick is in truth merely the converse of the other.
It will be found preferable, with a view to scenic effect, to place the
table at one corner of the stage, and to make it advance to the lady in
a diagonal direction.
* * * * *
I subjoin a much simpler and decidedly less expensive plan, which
(though without any disparagement of the method above described) I
venture to suggest for moving the table, for the purpose of this trick.
A table should be made of very substantial appearance, but in reality
extremely light. This table might be made either of pasteboard, very
thin wood, or of pieces of cork; and suspended by very fine wires.[38]
These wires would pass through slits of proportionate minuteness made
in the ceiling. At a few paces distance, it would be impossible for the
eye to detect either the wires or the slit, even with a greater degree
of light than in the trick as above described. This is, at any rate, a
method which I have myself employed, and which I have found a complete
success.
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[37] The performance in question was arranged by Messrs. Pepper
and Tobin, in 1868, and was exhibited by them at the Polytechnic
Institution (London).--R.-H.
[38] There is a wire sold, in the ordinary course of trade, which is
nearly as fine as hair, and which would be quite strong enough for this
purpose.--R.-H.
CHAPTER IX.
THE BUST OF SOCRATES.
Let the reader picture to himself, completely isolated and suspended
without visible support in the middle of the stage, a living bust with
the features of Socrates. Notwithstanding this mutilation of the great
philosopher, he is still able to speak, and introduces himself in a
stanza of elegiac verse. An Athenian noble delivers the reply, the
play of feature of the wisest of the sages of Greece being in strict
accordance with the dialogue. Such is the _mise en scène_ of the
ingenious illusion represented in the accompanying illustration (Fig.
16).
[Illustration: Fig. 16.]
A, B, C, D (Fig. 17) represents a section of the stage on which the
trick is exhibited. A sheet of silvered glass, G G, occupying the whole
width of the stage, is placed in a diagonal position, extending from
the upper part of the stage at the rear, down to the footlights, so as
to form an angle of 45° with the floor.
In the centre of the glass is an opening through which the actor passes
his head and shoulders, as shown in the figure.
It should be further mentioned that the ceiling and the two sides
of the stage are hung with wall-paper of the same pattern, and are
brilliantly illuminated, either by means of footlights at C, or by
gas-jets placed behind the border A.
[Illustration: Fig. 17.]
Such being the condition of things, the effect is as follows: The
ceiling A is reflected in the mirror, and its reflection appears to the
spectators to be the paper of the wall B D, which in reality is hidden
by the glass.
By means of this reflection, of which he is of course unaware, the
spectator is led to believe that he sees three sides of the stage; and
there being nothing to suggest to his mind the presence of the glass,
is led to believe that the bust is suspended in mid-air, and without
any support.
Unless the spectators are so placed as to have a downward view, the
actor who is on the stage may venture quite close to the glass, its
inclination excluding all fear of his being seen reflected therein. In
a regular theatre, in which, as a rule, some of the seats are placed
very high up, the actor would be obliged to stand clear of the stage,
and upon a lower level.
[Illustration]
CHAPTER X.
A CURIOUS EFFECT IN ACOUSTICS.
This experiment, the invention of Mr. Wheatstone, the celebrated
English physicist, was exhibited at the London Polytechnic Institution,
in the year 1855.[39] The stage arrangements for producing this
surprising phenomenon are as follows:--
* * * * *
In the middle of the stage are placed in a semi-circle four harps, by
Erard, which are destined to reproduce the sounds of other instruments
played in the spacious cellars of the Institution. These instruments
are a piano, a violoncello, a violin, and a clarionet.
In order to produce this result, there are, attached to the
sounding-boards of the harps, four small upright deal rods, about
three-quarters of an inch in diameter (_see_ Fig. 18) which, travelling
vertically downwards, pass through the stage and the ceiling of the
rooms below till they reach the cellar; where they are connected, the
first with the sounding-board of the piano, the second with the belly
of the violoncello, the third with the belly of the violin, and the
fourth with the mouth of the clarionet.
[Illustration: Fig. 18.]
In order to be able, when desired, to interrupt the connection between
the instruments played and the harps, the rods are cut right through
an inch or two above the stage. This, however, does not prevent the
ends resting one upon another, and so transmitting the vibrations. By
turning the harps round on their own axes, the rods are completely
disconnected.
N.B.--The rods must be insulated from the floor boards through which
they have to pass, so as to cut them off from any vibrations which
might be prejudicial to the desired effect. This insulation is obtained
by making the holes somewhat larger than the rods, or by supporting
these latter with substances the least susceptible of vibration.
* * * * *
Professor Pepper conducts the experiment as follows:--By gently
striking rod No. 1, he gives the signal to the pianist to begin to
play. The sounds conveyed by the wooden rod, and reproduced by the
sounding-board of the corresponding harp, are heard with perfect ease
by the whole of the audience. They have lost scarce anything of their
power, and not a single note of the air played is altered either in
tone, in volume, time, or tune. But if, while the musician still plays
on, you turn round the harp and thereby break the connection, _i.e._,
the contact of the conducting rods, not a sound is heard. All is
absolutely silent.
Mr. Pepper proceeds in the same way with the three other instruments
and their respective harps, and shows that the sound, which is
completely inaudible so long as the rod attached to the sounding-board
of the harp is not in contact with that attached to the playing
instrument, is heard the moment that contact is re-established, as
clearly as if the instruments were actually on the stage. He then, by
striking all four conducting rods at once, transmits to the musicians
the order to play a quartette. Such quartette is transmitted with
the greatest precision to the sounding-boards of the harps; this
concert without visible musicians producing a marked sensation among
the audience. Finally, in the very middle of the quartette, Mr.
Pepper, turning round the four harps one after another, severs their
communication with the instruments, and the concert comes to an end,
not for lack of performers, since the latter still continue to play
upon their respective instruments, but because the sound-vibrations,
no longer aided by the sounding-boards, remain in their rudimentary
condition of mere mechanical movement, and so are lost in space.[40]
* * * * *
Regarded as an illustration of a scientific principle, this experiment
was very well arranged, and produced a striking effect; but as a piece
of stage-magic, it would have been possible (assuming of course that
the principle was kept a secret) to have made it extremely illusive,
and to have founded on it one or two really capital tricks. To that
end, however, it would have been necessary to have made some slight
alterations in the _mise en scène_ of the exhibition, and to present
it, in fact, from quite a different point of view. I will give a couple
of illustrations of these necessary modifications:--
Whatever the form in which the experiment was performed, the most
important alteration to make would be _to produce the phenomenon as
closely as possible to the spectators_, in order that they might be
thoroughly convinced of the reality of the facts as stated to them;
for at any considerable distance it is difficult to satisfy oneself
on this point, and the public, who are generally somewhat suspicious,
might not unnaturally imagine that they were being hoaxed, and that
the sounds, instead of really coming from the harps, proceeded simply
from behind the scenes, or beneath the stage. Such an idea once being
entertained, good-bye to the “miracle” and all illusion to be derived
from it, The proper plan would be to erect a raised platform quite
close to the spectators, and, if possible, in the very midst of them.
The under side of this platform should rest upon deal supports, which
should be tolerably numerous, and among which the vibrating rods
should be intermixed. This lower portion, by the way, should be hidden
by drapery, which might be lifted when desirable, so as to show that
neither musicians nor musical instruments were concealed beneath.
* * * * *
These arrangements being made, and following the method laid down in
the experiment already described, two harps would be placed on the
platform, connected by wooden rods with two other harps in the cellar,
each in the hands of a competent performer.
The experiment might then be announced under the title of--
* * * * *
_The Eolian Harps made to perform by Spirit Influence._--The reader
can readily imagine the astonishment which such a performance would
excite; two harps, completely cut off from all mechanical influence,
playing a duet, ceasing to play, either one or both, at the command of
the pretended medium; and at a fresh command again beginning to play.
Such an exhibition would really savour of the miraculous.
* * * * *
N.B.--In order to transmit secretly to the musicians the command to
play or to cease playing, a person placed in one corner of the hall
might, upon certain agreed movements of the exhibitor, or upon his
express order addressed to the pretended spirits, press, unknown to
the spectators, a connecting stud communicating with an electric bell
placed in the cellar.
In this form of the experiment there is no necessity that the musicians
should be placed in a cellar; they need only take up their position
in some lower room whence the sounds of the instruments would not be
audible through the floor of the exhibition-room.
Here is another illusion, only differing in _mise en scène_ from the
preceding experiments, but very much more mysterious in effect.