Memoirs of Robert-Houdin, ambassador, author and conjurer. Jean-Eugène Robert-Houdin
will tell you presently who I am, and you will be able to estimate me at my true value; in the mean while allow me to offer you a slight specimen of my skill.”
The artist, having then formed the circle afresh, placed before him a small table, on which he arranged three tin goblets, so well polished that they might have been taken for silver; after which he fastened round his waist a red cotton velvet bag, into which he thrust his hands for some minutes—doubtlessly to prepare the tricks he intended to display—and the performance commenced.
During a long series of tricks, the nutmegs, at first invisible, appeared at the finger ends of the conjuror; then, they passed through the cups, under the table, into a spectator’s pockets, and finally emerged, to the general delight, from the nose of a young looker-on. The latter took the matter quite seriously, and half killed himself with sneezing, to see whether a few more spice balls might not be left in his brain. The address with which these tricks were done, and the apparent simplicity of the operator in the execution of these ingenious artifices, produced the most perfect illusion—at least, as far as I was concerned.
It was the first time I had ever witnessed such a sight: I was stupefied, astounded! The man who could perform such marvels at his will seemed to me a superhuman being; hence I saw him put aside his cups with considerable regret. The audience seemed equally charmed; the artist perceived it, and took advantage of it, by making a sign that he had a few more words to say. Then, resting his hand on the table, he proceeded:
“Ladies and gentlemen! I was very pleased to notice the kind attention you devoted to my tricks, and I thank you for it” (here the conjuror bowed to the ground); “and, as I am anxious to prove that you have not to deal with an ungrateful person, I will attempt to repay in full the satisfaction you have made me feel. Deign to listen to me for a moment.
“I promised to tell you what I am; I will now satisfy you.” (Sudden change of countenance, and evidence of great self-esteem.) “You behold in me the celebrated Dr. Carlosbach: the composition of my name reveals to you my Anglo-Francisco-Germanic origin. To praise myself would be like painting the lily; I will, therefore, content myself with saying that I possess an enormous talent, and that my astounding reputation can only be equalled by my modesty. Elected, by acclamation, member of the most illustrious learned societies through the whole world, I incline before their judgment, which proclaims the superiority of my skill in the grand art of curing the human race.”
This address, as strange as it was emphatic, was delivered with imperturbable assurance; still I fancied I noticed a twitching of the lips, that revealed the grand doctor’s ill-restrained desire to laugh. For all that, I listened attentively to his discourse.
“But, gentlemen,” he added, “I have said sufficient of myself; it is time to speak of my works. Learn then, that I am the inventor of the Vermifuge Balsam, whose sovereign efficaciousness is indisputable. Yes, gentlemen, the worm, that enemy of the human race—the worm, the destroyer of everything existing—the worm, that obstinate preyer on the living and the dead, is at length conquered by my science; a drop, an atom of this precious liquor is sufficient to expel this fearful parasite for ever.
“And, gentlemen, such is the virtue of my marvellous balsam, that it not only delivers man from this frightful calamity during life, but his body has nothing to fear after death. Taking my balsam is a mode of embalming one’s body prior to death; man is thus rendered immortal. Ah! gentlemen, were you but acquainted with all the virtues of my sublime discovery, you would rush upon me and tear it from me; but, as that would be illegal, I check myself in time.”
The orator, in fact, stopped, and dried his brow with one hand, while with the other he motioned to the crowd that he had not yet ended his discourse. A great number of the audience were already striving to approach the learned doctor; Carlosbach, however, did not appear to notice it, and, reassuming his dramatic posture, he continued as follows:
“But, you will ask me, what can be the price of such a treasure? can we be rich enough to purchase it? The moment has now arrived, gentlemen, to make you understand the full extent of my disinterestedness. This balsam, in the discovery of which I have worn away my days—this balsam, which sovereigns have purchased at the price of their crown—this balsam, in short, which is beyond all price—well, I make you a present of it!”
At these unexpected words, the crowd, panting with emotion, lifted up its eager arms, and implored the generosity of the doctor. But, what shameful deception! Carlosbach—the celebrated Dr. Carlosbach—this benefactor of humanity, suddenly altered his tone, and burst into an Homeric shout of laughter. The arms fell down spontaneously; the audience looked vacantly into each other’s faces. At length one laughed. The contagion spread, and soon everybody was following the conjurer’s example. He was the first to stop, and demanded silence:
“Gentlemen!” he then said, in a perfectly respectful tone, “do not be angry with me for the little trick I have played you; I wished thus to put you on your guard against those charlatans who daily deceive you, just as I have done myself. I am no doctor, but simply a conjurer, professor of mystification, and author of a book, in which you will find, in addition to the discourse I have just delivered, the description of a great number of conjuring tricks. Would you like to learn the art of amusing yourself in society? For sixpence you may satisfy your curiosity.”
The conjurer produced from a box an enormous packet of books; then, going round the crowd, he soon disposed of his wares, thanks to the interest his talent had excited. The exhibition was over, and I returned home with my head full of a world of unknown sensations.
It will be readily supposed that I purchased one of these precious volumes. I hastened to examine it; but the false doctor continued his system of mystification in it, and despite all my good will, I could not understand one of the tricks he pretended to explain. However, I had the famous speech I have just quoted, as some sort of consolation.
I made up my mind to lay the book aside and think no more of it; but the marvels it announced returned to my mind every moment. “O Carlosbach!” I said in my modest ambition, “if I possessed your talent, how happy I should feel!” and, filled with this idea, I decided on taking lessons of the learned professor. Unfortunately, this determination was arrived at too late. When I proceeded to his lodgings, I learned that the conjuror had resorted to his own tricks, and had left his inn the previous evening, forgetting to pay the princely score he had run up. The innkeeper gave me the account of this last mystification on the part of the professor.
Carlosbach had arrived at his house with two trunks of unequal size and very heavy; on the larger of them was painted “Conjuring Apparatus,” on the other, “Clothing.” The conjuror, who stated that he had received various invitations to perform at the adjacent châteaux, had set off the evening before to fulfil one of these engagements. He had only taken with him one of his trunks, that containing the apparatus; and it was supposed he had left the other in his room as a security for the bill he had run up. The next day the host, surprised at finding his lodger still absent, thought it advisable to place his traps in some safe place. He, therefore, went into his bedroom; but the two trunks had disappeared, and in their place was an enormous bag filled with sand, on which was written:
The Mystifying Bag.
The Stirrup Trick.
I continued for some time longer to enjoy the contemplative life I had been pursuing; but at last satiety assailed me, and I was quite surprised one day at finding myself wearied of this life of idleness. My father, like a man who could read the human heart, had awaited this moment to talk seriously with me; he, therefore, took me aside one morning, and said, without further preface, in a kindly voice:
“My good boy, you have now quitted college with a sound education, and I have allowed you to enjoy fully the liberty for which you seemed to aspire. But you must see this is not sufficient for a livelihood; you must now enter on the world resolutely, and apply your parts to the profession you wish to embrace. That profession it is now time to choose; you have doubtlessly some inclination, some bias, and you must let me know it; speak, then, and you will find me inclined to second your views.”
Although