1871. His son-in-law, M. Hamilton, continued to carry on the Temple of

Enchantment at Paris, and at the present time there is a little theater on the Boulevard des Italiens called “Théâtre Robert-Houdin,” where strolling conjurers hold forth. It was a great disappointment to Houdin when his two sons refused to take up magic as a profession; one entered the French army, and the other became a watchmaker. V. One of the best sleight-of-hand artists that ever lived was Carl Herrmann, who styled himself the “Premier Prestidigitateur of France and First Professor of Magic in the World.” He died at Carlsbad, June 8, 1887, at the advanced age of seventy-two. Of him Burlingame says: “Without using much mechanical or optical apparatus, he produced many wonderful effects by a sharp observation of the absence of mind of the human auditor, assisted by a hand as firm as steel and capable of the most deft movement.” Carl Herrmann traveled extensively, and many conjurers adopted his name as a _nom de théâtre_. Magicians seem to have a _penchant_ for this sort of thing, as witness the case of Signor Blitz. Antonio Blitz, a very clever performer, no sooner arrived in the United States than imitators sprang up like mushrooms in a single night. In his “Fifty Years in the Magic Circle,” he gives a list of eleven of these impostors, who not only had the impudence to assume his name, but circulated verbatim copies of his handbills and advertisements-- Signor Blitz. Signor Blitz, Jr. Signor Blitz, The Original. Signor Blitz’s Son. Signor Blitz’s Nephew. Signor Blitz, The Great. Signor Blitz, The Wonderful. Signor Blitz, The Unrivaled. Signor Blitz, The Mysterious. Signor Blitz, By Purchase. Signor Blitz, The Great Original. A clever entertainer was Robert Heller. He was a magician, a mimic, and a musician--a combination of talents rarely seen in one individual. He was, indeed, the Admirable Crichton of fantaisistes. As a pure sleight-of-hand artist, Heller was not the equal of some of his contemporaries, but he made up for all deficiencies in this respect by his histrionic abilities. By the power of his address and wit he invested the most insignificant feats of legerdemain with a peculiar charm. In this regard he was like Robert-Houdin. Robert Heller, or Palmer, was born in London, in the year 1833. Early in life he manifested a unique talent for music, and won a scholarship at the Royal Academy of Music at the age of fourteen. Having witnessed several performances of the conjurer Houdin, in London, he became enamored of magic, and devoted his time to perfecting himself in the art of legerdemain, subsequently traveling around giving entertainments in the English provinces. In the year 1852 he made his bow to a New York audience at the Chinese Assembly Rooms, on which occasion he wore a black wig and spoke with a decided Gallic accent, having come to the conclusion that a French prestidigitateur would be better received in the United States than an English wizard. I have this on the authority of Henry Hatton, the conjurer, who wrote an article on Heller’s “second-sight” trick for the “Century Magazine” some years ago. Hatton also says that Heller began his magical soirée with an address in the French language. Not meeting with the desired financial success, Heller abandoned conjuring, and settled in Washington, D. C., as a teacher of the piano and organist of one of the large churches of the city. Eventually he married one of his music pupils, a Miss Kieckhoffer, the daughter of a wealthy German banker, and abandoned music for magic. He went to New York, where he opened Heller’s Hall, in a building which then stood opposite Niblo’s Garden, on Broadway. His second début as a conjurer was an artistic and financial success. After a splendid run in New York he returned to London, opening what is now Pool’s Theater. Subsequently he visited Australia, India, and California, returning to New York in 1875. He died November 28, 1878, at the Continental Hotel, Philadelphia, at the height of his fame. Like most of his _confrères_, Heller was a clever advertiser. His theatrical posters usually bore the following amusing verse: “Shakespeare wrote well, Dickens wrote Weller; Anderson was ----, But the greatest is Heller.” His entertainments consisted of magic, music, and an exhibition of pretended clairvoyance. Those who were not interested in his feats of legerdemain flocked to hear his superb performances on the piano. Heller, like Houdin, made great use of electricity in his magical séances. Many of his electrical tricks were of his own invention. In his will he directed his executors to destroy all of his apparatus, so that it might not come into the possession of any other conjurer. The most popular performer in this country was Alexander Herrmann, a European by birth, but an American by adoption. I am indebted to Mr. Wm. Robinson, for years an assistant to Herrmann, for the following account of the great conjurer’s career: “The late Alexander Herrmann was born in Paris, France, February 11, 1843, and died in his private car on December 17, 1896, while _en route_ from Rochester, N. Y., to Bradford, Pa. He came of a family of eminent prestidigitateurs, his father, Samuel Herrmann, being the most famous conjurer of his day. Samuel Herrmann was a great favorite with the Sultan of Turkey, who frequently sent for him to give entertainments in the royal palace at Constantinople. [Illustration: ALEXANDER HERRMANN.] “The next in the family to wield the magic wand was Carl Herrmann, who was the first of the Herrmanns to visit America, and the first to use and introduce the name ‘prestidigitateur’ in this country. Carl, Alexander’s eldest brother, achieved great success in the world of magic. He died June 8, 1887, at Carlsbad, Germany, possessed of a large fortune. There were sixteen children in the Herrmann family, Carl being the eldest, and Alexander the youngest. After Carl adopted magic as a profession, the father abandoned it, and began the study of medicine. It was the father’s fondest hope that Alexander, his favorite son, should be a physician, but fate decreed otherwise. Alexander’s whole desire and ambition was to become a magician like his father and his brother. He persuaded his brother to take him as an assistant. One day young Alexander was missing from the parental roof; he had been kidnapped and taken away by Carl, with whom he made his first public appearance, at the age of eight, at a performance in St. Petersburg, Russia. Even at that early age his great dexterity, ingenuity, and presence of mind were simply marvelous. The sudden appearance of the father dispelled the visions of the embryonic magician, and he was compelled to return home. But the youth’s attention could not be diverted from his purpose, and again he became his brother’s assistant. This time, the father compromised by consenting to Alexander’s remaining on the stage, provided his education were not neglected. Carl engaged two competent tutors to travel with the company and instruct the young prodigy. For six years the brothers worked together, visiting Spain, France, Germany, Russia, and the surrounding countries. Again the parents claimed Alexander, and placed him in the University of Vienna. At the age of sixteen, the old desire and fascination took possession of him. He accepted his brother’s proposal to make a tour of the world, and ran away from home and studies. Their first appearance in America was at the Academy of Music, New York, Monday, September 16, 1861. Their last joint engagement was in this country in the year 1869. On the opening night, in New York, Monday, September 20, Carl introduced Alexander to the audience as his brother and successor. When this engagement terminated, the brothers separated; Carl made a short tour of this country, but Alexander went to Europe, where he appeared in the principal cities, subsequently visiting the Brazils and South America. After that he made a remarkable run of one thousand performances at the Egyptian Hall, London, England. From England he returned to the United States in the year 1874, and from that period made this country his home, becoming a naturalized citizen in Boston, 1876. His career as a magician was one uninterrupted success. The many lengthy and favorable notices of him in the leading journals of this country, immediately after his death, showed that he was regarded as a public character. “Herrmann bore a remarkable resemblance to ‘His Satanic Majesty,’ which he enhanced in all possible ways, in recognition of human nature’s belief in the superhuman powers of the arch enemy. Despite this mephistophelian aspect, his face was not forbidding; his manner was ever genial and kind. ‘Magicians are born, not made’ was a favorite paraphrase of his, and Dame Nature certainly had him in view for one when she brought him to this sphere. “His success lay in his skill as a manipulator, in his witty remarks and ever-running fire of good-natured small talk. He was a good conjurer, a clever comedian, and a fine actor. His ‘misdirection,’ to use a technical expression, was beyond expression. If his luminous eyes turned in a certain direction, all eyes were compelled (as by some mysterious power) to follow, giving his marvelously dexterous hands the better chance to perform those tricks that were the admiration and wonder of the world. “Alexander Herrmann’s pet hobby was hypnotism, of which weird science he was master, and to its use he attributed many of his successful feats. His great forte was cards; he was an adept in the ordinary tricks of causing cards to disappear, and reappear from under some stranger’s vest or from a pocket. With the greatest ease and grace, he distributed cards about a theater, sending them into the very laps and hands of individuals asking for them. On one occasion he gave a performance before Nicholas, the Czar of all the Russians. The Czar complimented the conjurer upon his skill, and decorated him, at the same time smilingly remarking: ‘I will show you a trick.’ The Czar tore a pack of cards into halves, and good-humoredly asked: ‘What do you think of that? Can you duplicate it?’ His surprise was great to see Herrmann take one of the halves of the pack and tear _it_ into halves. Herrmann was as clever with his tongue as with his hands, having mastered French, German, Spanish, Italian, Russian, Dutch, and English. He also had a fair knowledge of Portuguese, Chinese, Arabic, and Swedish. “He was decorated by almost every sovereign of Europe, and many of them gave him jewels. The King of Belgium and the late King of Spain each presented him with a cross; there was a ring from the King of Portugal, one from the Prince of Wales, and various other gems. “At private entertainments and clubs Herrmann was especially felicitous as a prestidigitateur. I will enumerate a few of his numberless sleight-of-hand tricks: He would place a wine glass, full to the brim with sparkling wine, to his lips, when suddenly, to his apparent surprise and consternation, the glass of wine would disappear from his hand and be reproduced immediately from some bystander’s coat-tail pocket. He would place a ring upon the finger of some person, and immediately the ring would vanish from sight. A silver dollar would change into a twenty-dollar gold piece. A magnum bottle of champagne, holding about two quarts, would disappear, to reappear from under a gentleman’s coat. He was a capital ventriloquist, an imitator of birds, and quite clever at juggling and shadowgraphy, but he did not exhibit these talents in public. “The lines in Herrmann’s hands were studies for adepts in chirography. There were three lines of imagination, instead of one, which indicates an imaginative faculty little less than miraculous, and denotes a generous heart, genius for friendship, a determined nature, and an artistic temperament. The accompanying impression of his right hand, taken a few days after he died, represents a _short_ hand, owing to the fact that in death the fingers had curled inward somewhat. In life his hands were long, slender, and tapering.” [Illustration: IMPRESSION OF HERRMANN’S HAND] Leon Herrmann, a nephew of the great Herrmann, is now performing in the United States with success. In personal appearance he resembles his uncle. He is very clever at palmistry--the cardinal principle of conjuring. One of the most original and inventive minds in the domain of conjuring is M. Bautier de Kolta, a Hungarian, who resides in Paris. He is almost a gentleman of leisure, and only appears about three nights in a week. He is the inventor of the flying bird cage, the cocoon, the vanishing lady, and the trick known as the “black art,” reproduced by Herrmann and Kellar. In England, the leading exponent of the magic art is J. N. Maskelyne, who has held forth at Egyptian Hall, London, for many years. He has done more to unmask bogus spirit mediums than any conjurer living. Apprenticed like Houdin to a watchmaker, Maskelyne became acquainted with mechanics at an early age. He is the inventor of some very remarkable automata and illusions, for example “Psycho” and the “Miracle of Lh’asa.” At the juggling feat of spinning dessert plates he has but few rivals. To perform this requires the greatest skill and delicacy. One of the best performers in the United States of anti-spiritualistic tricks and mind-reading experiments is Mr. Harry Kellar, a Pennsylvanian, who at one time in his career acted as assistant to the famous Davenport Brothers, spirit mediums. Kellar is exceedingly clever with handkerchief tricks, and his “rose-tree” feat has never been surpassed for dexterous and graceful manipulation. Like Houdin, De Kolta, and Maskelyne, he is an inventor, always having some new optical or mechanical illusion to grace his entertainments. Of late years he has made the fatal mistake of exposing the methods of palmistry to the audience, thereby offending one of the cardinal principles of the art of legerdemain--never explain tricks, however simple, to the spectators. People go to magical entertainments to be mystified by the pretended sorcery of the magician, and when they learn by what absurdly simple devices a person may be fooled, they look with indifference at the more ambitious illusions of the performer. Palmistry is the very foundation stone of prestidigitation. No magician, unless he confines himself to mechanical tricks, can do without it in a performance. Last but not least in the list of modern fantaisistes is the French entertainer, M. Trewey, an exceedingly clever juggler, sleight-of-hand artist, and shadowgraphist. VI. In his advertisements, Robert-Houdin was extremely modest. His successors in the _art magique_, however, have not imitated him in this respect. We have Wizards of the North, South, and West, White and Black Mahatmas, Napoleons of Necromancy, Modern Merlins, etc. Anderson, the English conjurer, went to the extreme in self-laudation, but managed to draw crowds by his vainglorious puffery and fill his coffers with gold, though he was but an indifferent performer. The following is one of his effusions: “Theatre Royal, Adelphi ----. The greatest wonder at present in London is the Wizard of the North. He has prepared a Banquet of Mephistophelian, Dextrological, and Necromantic Cabals, for the Wonder seekers of the approaching holidays. London is again set on fire by the supernatural fame of the eximious Wizard; he is again on his magic throne; he waves his mystic scepter, and thousands of beauty, fashion, and literature, rush as if charmed, or spell-commanded, to behold the mesteriachist of this age of science and wonder! Hundreds are nightly turned from the doors of the mystic palace, that cannot gain admission; this is proof, and more than proof, of the Wizard’s powers of charming. During the last six nights, 12,000 spectators have been witnesses of the Wizard’s mighty feats of the science of darkness, and all exclaim, ‘Can this be man of earth? is he mortal or super-human?’ “Whitsun-Monday, and every evening during the week, The Great Delusionist will perform his Thousand Feats of Photographic and Alladnic Enchantments, concluding every evening with the Gun Delusion!!” The Theosophical craze of recent years has had its influence on prestidigitation. A modern conjurer who does not claim some knowledge of the occult, or, at least, who has not traveled in the Orient, cuts but little figure in public estimation. Every now and then some enterprising wizard rushes into print and exploits his weird adventures in Egypt and India, the birthplaces of magic and mystery. Every intelligent reader reads between the lines, but the extravagant stories of Oriental witchery have their effect on certain impressionable minds. The magician Kellar is a reputed Oriental tourist. He has journeyed, according to his own account, in the wilds of India, witnessed fakir-miracles at the courts of Mohammedan Rajahs, hobnobbed with Mahatmas in Tibetan lamaseries, and studied the black, blue, and white art in all its ramifications. In one of his recent advertisements he says: “Success crowns the season of Kellar, the Great American Magician. His Oriental magic, the result of years of original research in India, enables him to present new illusions that are triumphs of art, and attract enormous houses--dazing, delighting, dumbfounding, and dazzling theater-goers.”