MEMOIRS OF
RO B E R T - H O U D I N AMBASSADOR, AUTHOR, AND CONJURER.
WRITTEN BY HIMSELF.
EDITED BY Dr.
R. SHELTON MACKENZIE.
PHILADELPHIA: GEO. G. EVANS, PUBLISHER, NO. 439 CHESTNUT STREET.
1860.
Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1859, by G. G. E V A N S , In the Clerk’s Office of the District Court for the Eastern District of
Pennsylvania.
EDITOR’S PREFACE.
A
man
may not only "take his own life,” by writing his
autobiography, without committing felo de se, but may carry himself into future time by producing a. book which the world will not willingly let die. This is what M. RobertHoudin, the greatest artist in what is called Conjuring, has lately done in the remarkable book Confidences d'un Prestidigiteur, a faithful translation of which is here presented to the American reading public. The work has had the greatest success in Europe, from its lively style as well as the various information it contains, historical and philo sophical, on the practice and principles of sleight-of-hand, and the other details, mental as well as mechanical, which unite to make perfect the exhibition of White Magic, the antipodes of what our forefathers knew, persecuted, and punished as the Black Art. Houdin has been considered of such importance and in terest in France, that in Didot’s Nouvelle Biographie Generale, now in course of publication at Paris, a whole page is given to him. From this memoir, and from his own account
4
EDITOR’S PREFACE.
in the pages which follow, we learn that he was born at Blois, on the 6th December, 1805,— that his father, a watchmaker in that city, gave him a good education at the College of Orleans,— that his inclination for escamotage (or juggling) was so decided as to make him averse to pursue his father’s trade,— that he early exhibited great taste for mechanical inventions, which he so successfully cultivated that, at the Paris Exhibition of 1844, he was awarded a medal for the ingenious construction of several automata,— that, having studied the displays of the great masters on the art of juggling, he opened a theatre of his own, in the Palais Royal in Paris, to which his celebrated soirees fantastiques attracted crowds,— that, in 1848, when the Re volution had ruined all theatrical speculations in Paris, he visited London, where his performances at St. James’s Theatre were universally attractive and lucrative,— that he made a tour through Great Britain with equal success, returning to Paris when France had settled down quietly under the rule of a President,— that he subsequently visited many other parts of Europe, every where received with dis tinction and applause,— that at the Great Parisian Exhibi tion of 1855, he was awarded the gold medal for his scien tific application of electricity to clocks,— that, shortly after, he closed ten years of active public life by relinquish ing his theatre to Mr. Hamilton, his brother-in-law, retir ing with a well-earned competency to Blois,— and that, in 1857, at the special request of the French Government, which desired to lessen the influence of the Marabouts, whose conjuring tricks, accepted as actual magic by the
EDITOR’S PREFACE.
Arabs, gave them too much influence, he went to Algeria, as a sort of Ambassador, to play off his tricks against theirs, and, by greater marvels than they could shew, de stroy the prestige which they had acquired. He so com pletely succeeded that the Arabs lost all faith in the mira cles of the Marabouts, and thus was destroyed an influence very dangerous to the French Government. In his retirement, to which he has returned, Houdin wrote his Confidences, and is now devoting himself to scien tific
researches
connected
with
electricity.
Before
the
appearance of his own work, M. Hatin had published, in 1857, Robert-Houdin, sa vie, ses oeuvres, son theatre. The
French
and
English
critics
have
generally
and
warmly eulogized M. Houdin’s Confidences, and I am per suaded that, on this side of the Atlantic, it will be con sidered an instructive as well as an amusing volume. One error which M. Houdin makes must not be passed over. His account of M. de Kempelen’s celebrated automa ton chess-player (afterwards Maelzel’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 Cafe de la Regence; it was not taken to London until 1784; and again in 1819; it was brought to America in 1825, by M. Maelzel, and visited our prin cipal cities, its chief resting-place being Philadelphia; M. Maelzel’s death was in 1838, on the voyage from Cuba to the United States, and not, as M. Houdin says, on his return
6
EDITOR’S PREFACE.
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 Professor George Allen, of this city, will be found in “ The Book of the First American Chess Congress,” recently published in New York. M. Houdin is engaged now in writing a volume explain ing the manner in which sleight-of-hand and other conjur ing tricks and deceptions are performed. I have added an Index to this volume, which I trust will be accepted as useful. R. Shelton Mackenzie. P hiladelphia , Sept. 26, 1859.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER I. PAGE
My Birth and Parentage — My Home — The Lessons of Colonel Bernard—Paternal Ambition — My first Mechanical Attempts— Had I but a R a t ! — A Prisoner’s Industry — The Abbe Lariviere—My Word of Honor—Farewell to my darling Tools. .
17
CHAPTER II. A Country Idler—Dr. Carlosbach, Conjurer and Professor of Mys tification— The Sand-bag and the Stirrup Trick—I turn Law yer’s Clerk, and the Minutes appear to me very long—A small Automaton—A respectful Protest—I mount a Step in the Office —A Machine of Porter’s Power — The Acrobatic Canaries — Mon sieur Roger’s Remonstrances — My Father decides that I shall follow my bent
.
.
.
.
.
.
26
CHAPTER III. My Cousin Robert—The most important Event in my Life—How a Man becomes a Sorcerer — My first Sleight-of-IIand Feat — An utter Failure — Practising the Eye and the Hand — Curious Ex periment in Prestidigitation — Monsieur Noriet—An Action more ingenious than delicate — I am Poisoned — Influence of Delirium.
42
8
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER IV. PAGE
I return to Life — A strange Doctor—Torrini and Antonio: a Con jurer and a Fanatic for Music—A Murderer’s Confession — A perambulating House — The Fair at Angers — A portable Theatre — I -witness for the first Time a Conjuring Performance — The blind
Man’s
Game
at
Piquet—A
Dangerous
Castelli eats a Man alive. .
Rival
.
—
.
Signor
.
.55
CHAPTER V. Antonio’s Confessions—How to gain Public Applause — The Count de , Mountebank — I repair an Automaton—A Mechanician’s Shop
on
Wheels—Nomadic
Life
—
Happy
Existence—Torrini’s
Lessons — His Opinions about Sleight-of-IIand—A Fashionable Greek, Victim of his OAvn Swindling — The Conjurer Comus — A Duel
at
Piquet—Torrini
proclaimed
Conqueror—Revelations
—New Catastrophe—Poor Torrini!
73
CHAPTER VI. Torrini relates his Life—Treachery of Chevalier Pinetti—A Con jurer through Malice — A Race between two Magicians — Death of Pinetti—Exhibits before Pius VII. — The Cardinal’s Chro nometer— Twelve Hundred Francs spent on a Trick—Antonio and Antonia — The most bitter of Mystifications — Constanti nople. .
.
.
.
.
.
.
90
CHAPTER VII. Continuation
of
Torrini’s
History—The
Grand
Turk
orders
a
Performance — A marvellous Trick — A Page cut in two — Pity ing
Protest
of
the
Harem—Agreeable
Surprise—Return
to
France — Torrini’s Son Killed — Madness — Decay — My first Performance—An annoying Accident —X return Home. .
121
CONTENTS.
9
CHAPTER VIII. PAGE
Tlie
Prodigal
Son—Mademoiselle
Houdin—I
go
to
Paris—My
Marriage — Comte—Studies of the Public—'A skillful Manager —Rose-colored Tickets—A Musky Style—The King of Hearts — Ventriloquism — The Mystifiers Mystified — Father Roujol—Jules de Rovkre—Origin of the word prestidigitateur.
.
136
CHAPTER IX. Celebrated bertus
Automata—A
Magnus
Duck—His
and
Brazen
St.
Fly—The
Thomas
Flute-Player—Curious
Chess-Player—Interesting
Artificial
Man—Al-
d’Aquinas—Vaucanson Details
Episode
—
—
Catherine
The II.
—
His
Automaton and
M. de
Kempelen — I repair the Componium—Unexpected Success.
155
CHAPTER X. An Inventor’s Calculations — One Hundred Thousand Francs a Year by
an
Inkstand:
Deception
—
My
new
Automata—The
First
Magician in France: Decadence—I meet Antonio — Bosco — The Trick with the Cups—An Execution — Resurrection of the Criminals — Mistake in a Head—The Canary rewarded. .
176
CHAPTER XI. A
Reverse
of
Fortune—Cookery
Home—Invention
of
an
and
Clockwork
Automaton—Voluntary
—
The Artist’s
Exile—A
mo
dest Villa—The Inconveniences of a Speciality — Two August Visitors — The Throat of a mechanical Nightingale—The Tiou and the Rrrrrrrrouit—Seven Thousand Francs earned by mak ing Filings. .
.
.
.
.
.
.
192
10
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XU. PAGE
The Inventive Genius of a Sugar-baker—Philippe the Magician — His Comic Adventures—Description of his Performance—Expo sition of 1844—The King and Royal Family visit my Automata.
221
CHAPTER XIII. My proposed Reforms—I build a Theatre in the Palais Royal—■ Formalities—General
Rehearsal—Singular
Effect
of
my
Per
formance— The Largest and Smallest Theatre in Paris—Tribu lation— My first Performance — Panic — Discouragement — A Fallible Prophet—Recovery — Success.
.
.
.
234
CHAPTER XIV. New
Studies—A
Curious
Comic
Journal—Invention
Experiments—An
enthusiastic
of
Second
Sight—
Spectator—Danger
of
being a Sorcerer—A Philter or your Life — Way to get rid of Bores—An Electric Touch—I perform at the Vaudeville—Strug gles with the Incredulous — Interesting Details. .
. 253
CHAPTER XY. Seductions Thousand
of
a
Theatrical
Francs
—
I
Agent—How
start
for
to
gain
Brussels—A
One
Hundred
lucky
Two-Sou
Piece — Miseries of professional Travelling — The Park Thea tre— Tyranny of a Porter — Full House — Small Receipts— Deceptions—Return to Paris.
.
.
.
.
273
CHAPTER XYI. Reopening
of
my
Fantastic
Soirees
—Minor
Miseries
of
Good
Luck—Inconvenience of a small Theatre — My Room taken by Storm — A gratuitous Performance—A conscientious Audience— Pleasant Story about a Black Silk Cap — I perform at the Cha teau of St. Cloud — Cagliostro’s Casket — Holidays.
.
294
CONTENTS.
11
CHAPTER XVII. PAGE
New Experiments — Aerial Suspension, & c . — - A Performance at tlie Odeon—A Friend in Need
—1848 —
The Theatre deserted—I
leave Paris for London — Manager Mitchell — Publicity in Eng land—
The
Great
Wizard—A
Butter-mould
used
Singular Bills — A Prize for the best Pun.
as
.
a
Puff—
.
312
CHAPTER XVIII. The St. James’s Theatre — Invasion of England by French Per formers— A Fete patronised by the Queen — The Diplomatist and the Sleight-of-Hand Man — Three Thousand Pounds taken at one Haul — I pei'form at Manchester — The Spectators in the Pillory — What capital Cura£oa!—A Torrent of Wine — A Catastrophe — Performance at Buckingham Palace — A Wizard’s Bepast.
330
CHAPTER XIX. An Optimist Manager — Three Spectators in a Boom — A Magical Collation — The Colchester Public and the Nuts — I return to France — I give up my Theatre—A Farewell Tour — I retire to St. Gervais — An Academician’s Predictions.
.
.
359
CHAPTER XX. Travels in Algeria—Convocation of the Chieftains — Performances before the Arabs — A Kabyle rendered powerless — Invulner ability— A Moor disappears — Panic and Flight of the Au dience—Beconciliation—The Sect of A'issaoua — Their pretend ed Miracles.
371
12
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER XXI. PAGE.
Excursion in the Interior of Aga—A
comical
Africa — The Abode of a Bash-
Bepast—A
Soiree
of
Arab
Dignitaries—A
Marabout mystified — Tent-life in Algeria — I return to France — A terrible Storm—Conclusion.
398
CHAPTER XXII.
A Course of Miracles.
Index.
.
.
»
.
.
.
.
.
422
487
THE AUTHOR’S OVERTURE.
S aint G ervais ,
near
B lois ,
September, 1858.
Eight o’clock has just struck: my wife and children are by my side. I have spent one of those pleasant days which tranquillity, work, and study can alone secure.— With no regret for the past, with no fear for the future, I am—I am not afraid to say it—as happy as man can he. And yet, at each vibration of this mysterious hour, my pulse starts, my temples throb, and I can scarce breathe, so much do I feel the want of air and motion. I can reply to no questions, so thoroughly am I lost in a strange and delirious reverie. Shall I confess to you, reader. And why not ? for this electrical effect is not of a nature to be easily understood by you. The reason for my emotion being extreme at this moment is, that, during my professional career, eight o’clock was the moment when I must appear before the public. Then,
14
THE AUTHOR’S OVERTURE.
with my eye eagerly fixed on the hole in the curtain, I surveyed with intense pleasure the crowd that flocked in to see me. Then, as now, my heart beat, for I was proud and happy of such success. At times, too, a doubt, a feeling of uneasiness, would be mingled with my pleasure. “Heavens !” I would say to myself, in terror, “ am I so sure of myself as to deserve such anxiety to see me ?” But, soon reassured by the past, I waited with greater calmness the signal for the curtain to draw up. I then walked on the stage: I was near the foot-lights, before my
judges—but
no,
I
err—before
my
kind
spectators,
whose applause I was in hopes to gain. Do you now understand, reader, all the reminiscences this hour evokes in me, and the solemn feeling that con tinually occurs to me when the clock strikes ? These emotions and souvenirs are not at all painful to me: on the contrary, I summon them up with pleasure. At times I even mentally transport myself to my stage, in order to prolong them. There, as before, I ring the bell, the curtain rises, I see my audience again, and, under the charm of this sweet illusion, I delight in telling them the most interesting episodes of my professional life. I tell them how a man learns his real vocation, how the struggle with difficulties of every nature begins, how, in fact
THE AUTHOR’S OVERTURE.
15
But why should I not convert this fiction into a reality ? Could I not, each evening when the clock strikes eight, continue my performances under another form ? My public shall he the reader, and my stage a hook. This idea pleases me: I accept it with joy, and imme diately give way to the sweet illusion. Already I fancy myself
in
the
presence
of
spectators
whose
kindness
encourages me. I imagine they are waiting for me—they are listening eagerly. Without further hesitation I begin. Robert-Houdin.
MEM O I R S OF
ROBERT-HOUDIN.
CHAPTER I. My Birth and Parentage — My Home — The Lessons of Colonel Bernard — Paternal Ambition — My first Mechanical Attempts — Had I but a B a t ! — A Prisoner’s Industry — The Abbe Lariviere — My Word of Honor — Farewell to my darling Tools.
In conformity with the traditional custom which expects every man who writes his memoirs—or not to use too strong language, his confessions—to display his patent of gentility, I commence by stating to my readers, with a certain degree of pride, that I was born at Blois, the birthplace of Louis XII., surnamed the “Father of his People,” and of Denis Papin, the illustrious inventor of the steam-engine. So much for my native town. As for my family, it would only appear natural, regard being had to the art to which I devoted my life, that I should display in my family tree the name of Robert le Diable, or of some mediaeval sorcerer; but, being the very slave of truth, I
18
MEMOIRS OF ROBERT-IIOUDIN.
will content myself with stating that my father was a watchmaker. Though he did not rise to the elevation of the Berthouds and the Breguets, my father was reputed to he very skil ful in his profession. In fact, I am only displaying our hereditary modesty when I say that my father’s talents ' were confined to a single art; for, in truth, nature had adapted him for various branches of mechanics, and the activity of his mind led him to try them all with equal ardor. An excellent engraver, a jeweller of the greatest taste, he at the same time could carve the arm or leg for some fractured statuette, restore the enamel on any time worn porcelain, or even repair musical snuff-boxes, which were very fashionable in those days. The skill he evinced in these varied arts at length procured him a most nume rous body of customers; but, unfortunately, he was wont to make any repairs not strictly connected with his own business for the mere pleasure. In this house, which I may almost term artistic, and in the midst of tools and implements in which I was destined to take so lively an interest, I was born and educated. I possess an excellent memory, still, though my reminis cences date back so far, I cannot remember the day of my birth. I have learned since, however, that it was the 6th of December, 1805. I am inclined to believe that I came into the world with a file or a hammer in my hand, for, from my earliest youth, those implements were my toys and delight: I learned how to use them as other children learn to walk and talk. I need not say that my excellent mother had frequently to wipe away the young mechanic’s tears, when the hammer, badly directed, struck my fingers. As for my father, he laughed at these slight accidents, and said, jokingly, that it was a capital way of
MY LOVE OF TOOLS.
19
driving my profession into me, and that, as I was a won derful lad, I could not but become an extraordinary work man. I do not pretend that I ever realized the paternal predictions, but it is certain that I have ever felt an irre sistible inclination for mechanism. How often, in my infantile dreams, did a benevolent fairy open before me the door of a mysterious El Dorado, where tools of every description were piled up. The delight which these dreams produced on me, were the same as any other child feels when his fancy summons up before him a fantastic country where the houses are made of chocolate, the stones of sugar candy, and the men of gingerbread. It is difficult to understand this fever for tools; the mechanic, the artist adores them, and would ruin himself to obtain them. Tools, in fact, are to him what a MS. is to the archaeologist, a coin to the antiquary, or a pack of cards to a gambler: in a word they are the implements by which a ruling passion is fed. By the time I was eight years of age I had furnished proofs of my ability, partly through the kindness of an excellent neighbor, and partly through a dangerous illness, when my forced idleness gave me leisure to exercise my natural dexterity. This neighbor, M. Bernard, was a colonel on half-pay. Having been a prisoner for many years, he had learned how to make an infinity of toys, which he taught me as an amusement, and I profited so well by his lessons, that in a very short time I could equal my master. I fancy I can still see and hear this old sol dier, when, passing his hand over his heavy grey mous tache, he exclaimed with energetic satisfaction, “ Why, the young scamp can do anything he likes.” This com pliment flattered my childish vanity, and I redoubled my efforts to deserve it.