CHAPTER X

ROBERT-HOUDIN'S IGNORANCE OF MAGIC AS BETRAYED BY HIS OWN PEN

Statements in Robert-Houdin's various works on the conjurer's art corroborate my claim that he was not a master-magician, but a clever purloiner and adapter of the tricks invented and used by his predecessors and contemporaries. Whenever, in these books, he attempts to explain or expose a trick which was not part of his répertoire, he betrays an ignorance which would be impossible in a conjurer versed in the finer and more subtle branches of his art. Neither do these explanations show that he was clever enough as a mechanic to have invented the apparatus which he claimed as his handiwork. He states that practice and still more practice are essential, yet no intelligent performer, amateur or professional, can study my collection of Robert-Houdin programmes, handbills, and press notices without realizing that his répertoire contained little or no trace of what should be the foundation of successful conjuring, sleight-of-hand. Changing his fingers over the various air-holes of the inexhaustible bottle was as near as he ever came to sleight-of-hand, even when he was in the height of his success.

According to the press notices he had a pleasing stage presence, and also dressed and set forth his tricks richly, but it must be borne in mind that then, as often to-day, the man sent by an editor to criticise a conjurer's performance knew little or nothing about the art and could not institute comparisons between different magicians. To-day Robert-Houdin would shine as an exhibitor of illusions or mechanical toys. A pistol shot, a puff of smoke--and his confederate or assistant has done the real work behind the scenes.

His lack of finesse as a sleight-of-hand performer is nowhere more clearly shown than in his own writings. On page 37 of his French exposé of the secrets of magic, entitled "Comment on Devient Sorcier" (page 51 of the English translation by Professor Hoffmann, "The Secrets of Conjuring and Magic"), he thus naïvely describes his masterpiece of coin-palming:

"I myself practised palming long and perseveringly, and acquired thereat a very considerable degree of skill. I used to be able to palm two five-franc pieces at once, the hand, nevertheless, remaining as freely open as though it held nothing whatever."

An amateur of his own day would have blushed to admit that he could palm but two coins. Men like T. Nelson Downs, "The Koin King," think nothing of palming twenty five-franc or silver dollars, or forty half-dollars, and even this record has been broken.

Even two writers who contributed to the translation and editing of his works, R. Shelton Mackenzie and Professor Hoffmann (Angelo J. Lewis), and who have drawn rich royalties for the same, apologize for his flagrant mis-statements, which, they realize, any man or woman with but a slight knowledge of conjuring must recognize.

His first contribution to the history of magic was his "Memoirs"; and while he does not feature exposures of tricks in this work, he offers, in passing, explanations of tricks and automata presented by other magicians. For the most part these explanations are obviously incorrect, and so prove that he was ignorant of certain fundamental principles of the art in which he claimed to have shone.

In the introduction of the American edition, published in 1850, Mr. Mackenzie, the editor, thus apologizes for one of Robert-Houdin's most flagrant mistakes in tracing the history of magic:

"One error which M. Houdin makes must not be passed over. His account of M. de Kempelen's celebrated automaton chess-player (afterward Maëlzel's) is entirely wrong. This remarkable piece of mechanism was constructed in 1769, and not in 1796; it was the Empress Maria-Theresa of Austria who played with it, and not Catherine II. of Russia; it was in 1783 that it first visited Paris, where it played at the Café de la Regence; it was not taken to London until 1784, and again in 1819; it was brought to America in 1825, by M. Maëlzel, and visited our principal cities, its chief resting-place being Philadelphia; M. Maëlzel's death was in 1838, on the voyage from Cuba to the United States, and not, as M. Houdin says, on his return to France; and the automaton, so far from being taken back to France, was sold by auction here, finally purchased by the late Dr. J. K. Mitchell, of Philadelphia, reconstructed by him, and finally deposited in the Chinese Museum (formerly Peale's), where it was consumed in the great fire which destroyed the National Theatre (now the site of the Continental Hotel, corner of Ninth and Chestnut Streets), and, extending to the Chinese Museum, burnt it down on July 5th, 1854. An interesting account of the Automaton Chess-Player, written by Prof. George Allen, of this city, will be found in 'The Book of the First American Chess Congress,' recently published in New York."

Signor Blitz, in his book "Fifty Years in the Magic Circle," corroborates the Mackenzie correction, by telling how he saw Maëlzel in Havana, Cuba, where the famous German met his professional Waterloo, first in small audiences, then in the death of his faithful confederate, Schlomberg. Finally, broken in health and spirit, Maëlzel sailed from Havana for Philadelphia, but death overtook him at sea. His body was consigned to the ocean's depths, and his few effects were sold to liquidate the cost of passage and other debts.

That Robert-Houdin should make an error concerning a world-famous automaton the history of which could be traced through contemporary periodicals and libraries, is almost inconceivable and proves the carelessness with which he gathered and presented facts.

His inability to grasp the principles on which other performers built their tricks is shown most clearly when he attempts to describe and explain the performances of the Arabian mountebanks whom he saw during his stay in Algiers. These tricks have been handed down from one generation to another, and now that Arabian conjurers and acrobats are imported for hippodrome and vaudeville performances in all civilized countries, the tricks described by Robert-Houdin are familiar to the general public. They are also copied by performers of other nationalities, and can be seen in circus side-shows and at fairs, as well as in the better grade of houses. Having worked on the same bill with genuine Arabian performers, I know just how the tricks are accomplished.

Robert-Houdin undertakes to explain these tricks in chapter XXII. of the American edition of his "Memoirs." So long as he quotes reliable authorities like the _Journal des Sciences_, the explanations are correct. Directly he attempts an independent exposure, he strikes far from the correct explanation.

On page 424 he states:

"In the following experiment, two Arabs held a sabre, one by the hilt, the other by the point; a third then came forward, and after raising his clothes so as to leave the abdomen quite bare, laid himself flat on the edge of the blade, while a fourth mounted on his back, and seemed to press the whole weight of his body on him.

"This trick may be easily explained.

"Nothing proves to the audience that the sabre is really sharpened, or that the edge is more cutting than the back, although the Arab who holds it by the point is careful to wrap it up in a handkerchief--in this, imitating the jugglers who pretend they have cut their fingers with one of the daggers they use in their tricks.

"Besides, in performing this trick, the invulnerable turned his back on the audience. He knew the advantage to be derived from this circumstance; hence, at the moment when about to lay himself on the sabre, he very adroitly pulled back over his stomach that portion of his clothing he had raised. Lastly, when the fourth actor mounted on his back, he rested his hands on the shoulders of the Arabs who held the sabre. The latter apparently maintained his balance, but, in reality, they supported the whole weight of his body. Hence, the only requirement for this trick is to have the stomach more or less pressed in, and I will explain presently that this can be effected without any danger or injury."

In this explanation Robert-Houdin is entirely wrong. The real secret of lying on top of a sharp-edged razor, sword, or sabre rests on the fact that the performer does actually lie upon it in a perfectly motionless position. Were he to move but the width of a hair, backward or forward or sidewise, the weapon would slice his body, resulting in instant death or horrible mutilation. I have watched cheap performers of this class of work, in dime museums or fairs, walk up a ladder of sharp swords which I had previously held in my hand. They would place the foot down with infinite precision and then press it into place. This position will not result in cutting, but let the performer slip or slide and the flesh would be cut instantly. I have also seen an acrobat, working in a circus, select two razors in first-class condition, place them on a socket with the edges of the razors uppermost, and with his bare hands he would do what is known as a hand-stand on the keen edges of the blades. This trick of absolute balance is acquired by persistent practice from youth up.

Again Robert-Houdin errs wofully in comparing the sabre-swallower to the swallower of broken bottle-heels and stones. Sabre-swallowing is one trick, swallowing pebbles and broken glass belongs in quite a different class. And when I say this I do not mean powdered glass, but pieces of glass first broken, then chewed, and finally swallowed.

On page 426 Robert-Houdin puts the two tricks in the same class, as follows:

"When the trick of swallowing bottle-heels and pebbles was to be done, the Aïssaoua really put them in his mouth, but I believe, I may say certainly, that he removed them at the moment when he placed his head in the folds of the Mokadem's burnous. However, had he swallowed them, there would have been nothing wonderful about this, when we compare it with what was done some thirty years back in France by a mountebank called 'the Sabre-Swallower.'

"This man, who performed in the streets, threw back his head so as to form a straight line with his throat, and really thrust down his gullet a sabre, of which only the hilt remained outside his mouth.

"He also swallowed an egg without cracking it, or even nails and pebbles, which he caused to resound, by striking his stomach with his fist.

"These tricks were the result of a peculiar formation in the mountebank's throat, but, if he had lived among the Aïssaoua, he would have assuredly been the leading man of the company."

The sabre-swallower never releases his hold on the weapon. The pebble and bottle-heel swallower does--but brings them up again, by a system of retching which results from long practice. The Japanese have an egg-swallowing trick in which they swallow either small-sized ivory balls or eggs, and reproduce them by a retching so unnoticeable that they could easily show the mouth empty.

This trick dates back to the offerings of that celebrated water-spouter, Blaise Manfrede, or de Manfre, who travelled all over Europe. This man could swallow huge quantities of water and then eject it in streams or in small quantities or fill all sorts of glasses. In fact this one trick made him famous. _The European Magazine_, London, March, 1765, pages 194-5, gives a most diverting description of his trick, taken from an old letter, and here quoted:

"I have seen, at the September fair in Francfort, a man who professed drinking fifty quarts of water in a day, and indeed proved that he was capable of executing what he pretended to. I saw him perform frequently, and remember it as well as if it was but yesterday. He said he was an Italian; he was short and squat, his chest, face, forehead, eyes, and mouth very large. He pretended to be fifty years old, though he did not seem forty.

"He was called the famous Blaise Manfrede, a native of Malta. At Francfort he frequently performed three times a day: for, besides his performances twice a day on the public stage (which nobody approached without paying), he attended private houses when called upon by great people.

"He called for a large bucket of fair warm water, and twenty little glass bottles, flat like cupping glasses, so that they could stand topside turvy. Some of these he filled with water, plunging them into the bucket with a good deal of ceremony, and usually swallowed two or three to wash his mouth and gargle his throat. He threw up the water again immediately, to shew the spectators that he had no drugs between his teeth, whence he could be suspected to derive any advantage.

"After this plausible prelude, he made an Italian harangue, which I cannot acquaint you with the merits of, because I am a stranger to the language.... After his harangue he usually took off two dozen of his little bottles, which he filled from the bucket, and a moment afterwards returned the liquor through his mouth. But what is most extraordinary is that this water, which he threw out with violence, appeared red like wine. And when he had discharged it into two different bottles, it was red in one and russet like beer in the other; as soon as he shifted the bottles to the contrary sides, they changed their complexion respectively to that of wine or beer, and so successively so long as he continued vomiting; in the mean time, I observed that the water grew less discolored in proportion as he continued to discharge. This was the first act. Then he ranged his two dozen of bottles opposite to him on a table, and exposed to everybody's view. Then he took an equal number of bottles, plunged them anew into the bucket, swallowed them too, and returned them in water very transparent, rose-water, orange-flower-water, and brandy.

"I have smelt the several odours of his liquors; nay, I have seen him set fire to a handkerchief dipt in that which smelt like brandy, and it burnt blue like spirituous liquors.... Nay, he frequently promised at Venice to give the water back again in milk and oil. But I think he did not keep his word. In short, he concluded this scene with swallowing successfully thirty or forty glasses of water, always from the same bucket, and after having given notice to the company by his man (who served as an interpreter) that he was going to disembogue, he threw his head back, and spouting out the fair water, he made it spring up with an impetuosity like that of the strongest _jet d'eau_. This last feat delighted the people infinitely more than all the rest, and during the month he was at Francfort numbers from all parts came to see this slovenly exercise. Though he repeated it more than once a day he had more than four hundred spectators at a time. Some threw their handkerchiefs, and some their gloves upon the stage, that he might wet them with the water he had cast up, and he returned them differently perfumed, sometimes with rose-water, sometimes with orange-flower-water, and sometimes with brandy."

Another famous juggler and water-spouter was Floram Marchand, whose picture is herewith reproduced. Judging from his dress, he antedated Manfrede.

Bell's _Messenger_ of July 16th, 1816, tells of a sword-swallower whose work is extremely pertinent to this discussion, and the clipping is quoted verbatim:

"The French papers give a curious account of one James de Falaise, a Norman, about fifty years of age, living in the Rue St. Honoré. It is said that this extraordinary man will swallow whole walnuts, shell and all, a tobacco pipe, three cards rolled together, a rose with all its leaves, long stalk, and thorns, a living bird, and a living mouse, and, lastly, a live eel. Like to the Indian jugglers, he swallows the blade of a sabre about thirteen inches long of polished steel. This operation he performs very slowly, and with some precaution; though he evinces no symptom of pain. After every solid body that he swallows, he always takes a small dose of wine expressly prepared for him. He does not seem to make any effort to kill the living animals that he takes in his mouth, but boasts that he feels them moving in his stomach."

In my collection is the handbill of a stone-swallower who exhibited at No. 10 Cockspur Street, London, charging an admission fee of half-a-crown.

These performers actually swallowed the water, stones, pebbles, etc., and retched them up again so cleverly and at such carefully selected instants that the audience did not know that the disgorging had been accomplished.

Swallowing glass was a different matter, and the modern human ostriches have all wound up at city hospitals where surgeons have removed broken glass, knife blades, and other foreign matter by means of an operation.

I quote the above instances simply to prove that the stones were actually swallowed and then disgorged, and not hidden, as Robert-Houdin claims, in the folds of the Mokadem's burnous.

In this one chapter alone Robert-Houdin quotes six authorities in explaining the tricks he witnessed, which fact only strengthens my belief that he borrowed his tricks, as well as his explanations, from able and graphic writers on the art of magic.

The next work descriptive of the conjurer's art offered by Robert-Houdin was "Les Secrets de la Prestidigitation et de la Magie." Under the title of "The Secrets of Conjuring and Magic; or, How to Become a Wizard," it was translated and edited by Professor Hoffmann and published in 1878 by George Routledge & Co., London and New York.

Absolutely no originality is displayed in this book, and the majority of the tricks explained can be found in French books of a similar character which appeared before Robert-Houdin turned author. The proof of this statement can be found by reading any of the following works upon which Robert-Houdin patently drew for his material:

"Nouvelle Magie Blanche Dévoilée et Cours Complet de Prestidigitation," in two volumes, by J. N. Ponsin, published in Paris in 1853; "Grande Initiation au vraie Pratique des Célèbres Physiciens-Prestidigitateurs," Paris, 1855; "Nouveau Manuel Complet Sorciers, les scènes de Ventriloquie exécutées et communiquées par M. Conte, Physicien du Roi," Paris, 1837; "Anciens et Nouvaux Tours d'Escamotage," of which there are innumerable editions; "Le Manuel des Sorciers. Recréations Physiques, Mathématiques, Tours de Cartes et de Gibecière; suivre, des Jeux de Société," Paris, 1802.

His third work, "Magie et Physique Amusante," translated by Professor Hoffmann under the title of "The Secrets of Stage Conjuring," and published in English in 1881, is marred by an almost continuous strain of mis-statements, incorrect explanations, and downright falsification.

On page 17 of the American edition Robert-Houdin starts his dramatic tale of inventing a detector lock by which he protected a rich neighbor, M. de l'Escalopier, from robbery, and incidentally in return secured funds with which to open his theatre in the Palais Royal. In his "Mémoirs" Robert-Houdin states that the opening of the theatre was made possible by the invention of the writing and drawing automaton whose history has been traced in chapter III. The reader can choose between the two stories. One is as plausible as the other.

But to return to the detector lock. Count or M. De l'Escalopier having complained grievously to his humble neighbor, the watchmaker Robert-Houdin, that he and his family were being robbed, begged that the latter suggest some means of catching the thief. Robert-Houdin then recalled a childish device by which he had caught his school-fellows in the act of pilfering his desk, etc., and he proposed to the Count that the same device, elaborated to meet the strength of a full-grown man, be attached to his wealthy patron's desk. As first planned, the detector lock was to shoot off a pistol on being tampered with, and then brand the hand of the thief with nitrate of silver. Count de l'Escalopier objected to branding a man for life, so Robert-Houdin substituted for the nitrate of silver a sort of cat's claw which would clamp down on the robber's hand and draw blood. The Count deposited ten thousand francs in his desk and caught the robber, his confidential servant, red-handed. The ten thousand francs he presented to Robert-Houdin as a reward for stopping the thefts.

A charming tale this makes, but, unfortunately for Robert-Houdin's claims to originality, the detector lock was not a novelty in his day. The lock which would first alarm the household by setting off a pistol and then brand the thief's hand, is described by the Marquis of Worcester in his book "Centurie of Inventions." As locks and locksmithing form my hobby, while in England I purchased the entire set of patent-books, to add to a collection of locks and fastenings from every known country of the world. In the introduction of the first book of patents for inventions relating to locks, latches, bolts, etc., from A.D. 1774 to 1866, the following quotation will be found:

"The Marquis of Worcester in his 'Centurie of Inventions' thus describes the first detector lock invented, A.D. 1640, by some mechanical genius of that day: 'This lock is so constructed that, if a stranger attempts to open it, it catches his hand as a trap catches a fox, though not as far as maiming him for life, yet so far marketh him that if suspected he might easily be detected.'"

It appears that to this lock was fitted a steel barb which, if a certain tumbler was overlifted in the act of picking or otherwise, was projected against the hand of the operator by a spring. I have seen such a lock as this in the collection of Hobbs, Hart & Co., London, who have had it in their possession many years. In every respect it answers the description of the invention claimed by Robert-Houdin as his own.