The Story of The Gift Shows
By Kit Clarke.*
(Copyright 1917 by Harry Houdini. Reproduction in whole or in part forbidden)
*With acknowledgement to Houdini for access to his valuable collection of data.
Kit Clarke
Billy Manning, Billy Allen, Billy Birch, Billy West, Billy Rice, Billy Emerson—the minstrel stars have glistened and fallen. Yet these great artists all but survived their art. There are none left; the minstrels wore out their welcome, the public taste changed, the solitary example of original native mirth vanished down the corridors of time.
Minstrelsy was no foolish whim. It was legitimate, a fine art in its good time, and Dockstader. Primrose and Dumont have not forgotten its traditions. The banjo has fallen into the hands of the girls — lucky girls:—and they play it as if they were fondling a canary bird. The minstrels used to take it by violence, soothed it into a delight and dragged fragrant harmonies from it.
The race of negro minstrels is as extinct as the mammoth and the cave man and I mourn the passing of these clamorous, rollicking and sentimental artists. How their hilarious mirth flashed through the gloom and gave cheerfulness to the mind. Their fun had no limits; it lightened the human, race and face. How their tuneful melodies moved our hearts. If we forget the voices we can never forget the singer, for the lute of Stephen Collins Foster will ring in our ears and endure as long as tranquilizing harmony fills the soul. He was happily born on our lustrous Fourth of July, 1826, and his music will ever remain a living force in our national life.
And dark-eyed, gentle Foster, the veritable native genius of song, who in this world will fail to cherish his sweet melodies;—"The Old Folks at Home," "Come Where My Love Lies Dreaming," "Massa's in De Cold, Cold Ground," "Old Black Joe," "Old Dog Tray," "Dearest May," "Hard Times Come Again No More," "Ellen Bayne," "Willie We Have Missed You," "Gentle Annie," "Old Uncle Ned," "Old Kentucky Home," "We Are Coming Father Abraham, Three Hundred Thousand More," and nearly two hundred other jewels of music.
Where now is the mortal to generate such wonderful symphonies ?
And how can I ever forget Stephen Foster, Wizard of Melody, when a daily memento of his friendliness salutes me from the wall of my home? There hangs the handsome little banjo upon the head of which a rare portrait of myself was painted by Vic Arnold, one of the good artists of his time, and which was Foster's gift when we dwelt together during the exciting era of our civil war. The wealth of a nation could not tempt its absence for a day.
Negro minstrelsy has become a memory; a fragment lingers. It was not alone in its peaceful exit; others rode in the chariot and were no more seen, of men, and among them the ever entrancing "gift show." The riches of the alluring "gift show" was envied of men. Too many invaded its confines. It was builded on conjury, coin and contention, its roundelay was merry and many rejoiced. Others were grieved, but none there are to do it reverence now; its wings are folded, its deeds are forgotten, and this generation is void of its methods and its charm. Yet a few still ponder on its whirl and glitter and know that it was a tolerant and profitable sport during its existence. It was exciting, even stimulating, nevertheless raised wild ructions bordering upon riotous deeds when deceit touched upon its victims.
The years have labored faithfully and the gift show of erstwhile lies under the stone. It comes to us all, this fleeting incident, yet we love to dwell upon the things we remember and twitch the ears of the listener with the story that lies beneath.
The thrum of the piano ceases, the bell tinkles, the curtain lifts and the man in black, the wonder-worker, smiles, salutes and unfolds his philippic of eloquence with mayhap an abridged record of his travels and attainments. His story is persuasive; he performs his trickery with deftness and the seats quiver with plaudits: he has succeeded, bows with a soft smile and gracefully retreats to the curtained seclusion.
Now hearts throb, for here beginneth the joyous banquet of gifts; something for nothing, the endless song; food for those who are a-hungered and hopeful. And of a truth all's well, for here be hams of high flavor and in plenty, and foods and furniture and many things of cost freely bestowed upon the admirers of the man of magic, may he ever be much happy, selah! And the multitude depart with joy in the heart and gifts in the arms, and all the world becomes purple and pretty.
The deed is done and the man of magic fondles his purse bulging with coin of the realm, and on the morrow the nimble messenger in blue lays it cheerily in the open hands of his waiting wife and babes.
Written records attribute to Comte the first effort to draw public attention to a magician through giving a present to a patron. He was an accomplished conjuror and the immediate predecessor in Parts of Robert Houdin. He issued family tickets admitting four persons to his theatre in the Gallery Choiseu at half price, and to each purchaser of a family ticket was given a polished copper medal on which his name was engraved, but only on payment of ten centimes additional to the cost of tickets. It was this Comte who invented the now well known "Birth of Flowers," and it was his contemporary Jules de Rovare who devised and bestowed upon himself the title Prestidigitateur, meaning activity of fingers.
Prof. Anderson originated an interesting and peculiar gift feature with which he enhanced the interest in his closing performance in a city, by offering a prize of a silver vase valued at one hundred dollars for the best pun submitted by a spectator during the evening.
Programme from Harry Houdini Collection
The decision was left to the audience, to whom the puns were read and who manifested their approval by applause. A mere ordinary pun was greeted with silence, while a bad pun was saluted with groans, and this method of working up an audience always resulted in crowded houses. Anderson's ability as a business man was displayed here in his announcement that all puns submitted would be published in book form and sold at one shilling, and in every town the sale of "Anderson's Puns" yielded fine profits.
About the same time another French magician adopted the gift idea to secure profitable audiences, and this was Phillippe, one of the foremost conjurors of his era. It appears that he had failed in London and journeyed to Aberdeen, Scotland, where he found himself in a penniless condition, perhaps in 1840.
In the same city at the same time a dramatic company had stranded and the manager was approached by Phillippe with the suggestion that they unite forces and offer prizes to patrons. It was agreed that each patron pay the usual admission fee and in addition was to pay sixpence and in return receive a package of mixed French candy and a chance to win a prize of five pounds in cash; this lottery appendage proving highly successful and crowded houses resulted.
During his performance here Phillippe secured the services of a bricklayer as an assistant whom he named Domingo, who proved to be a man of marked ability and who afterwards became famous as Macallister, his full name being Andrew Macallister. Phillippe afterwards visited all important cities in Europe with his lottery appendage, while Macallister came to the United States and introduced his magic and gave gifts after the method of Phillippe, and I believe this was the first time a gift show was seen here, which occurred about 1849 or 1850. He appeared at the Bowery Theatre, New York, Dec, 1848, and during August, 1852, but on these occasions gave no gifts.
The first distinctive American gift show which I recall was under the control of Goodwin and Somerby, during the autumn of 1865, and a few months after the termination of the Civil War. The entertainment consisted of Banvard's Panorama of the War, painted by John Banvard, a well known New York scenic artist of the time, and as the pictures were unrolled Somerby described them, giving a terse and eloquent narrative of each battle, in a most effective manner. After the picture had been exhibited, gifts of staple quality and value were liberally and fairly distributed by Somerby, and with each present he unloaded a "jolly" or a familiar and appropriate quotation that kept the audience in fine humor. He would hold a ham up, pat it gently with his hand, strike an attitude, and exclaim:—'"Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him well. He was a fine fellow but not as fine as this ham," and then, with a profound salute, he would hand the ham to the holder of the number having drawn it.
With the really fine panorama, Somenby's graphic and interesting remarks and the numerous acceptable gifts the show proved attractive and profitable, but in two years the picture went to its rest for the familiar reason of "Too Much Johnson," as panorama's became about as plentiful as bricks in a chimney. One of the best was Cooke's Panorama of the World, with a magician named Robert Harlin, to entertain, a name closely resembling Robert Houdin and Robert Heller, with the added lure of a long array of gifts to garner the multitude, but the combine soon sought the happy hunting ground and nestled there permanently. After this, all gift shows were headed by a magician of some kind, or at least a man wearing good clothes, upon whom the honorable title was grafted regardless of the amount of magic at his command or his manner of dispensing it, and this embraced every degree of merit, good, bad, indifferent and rotten, while some of them were bad enough to deserve a speedy and terrible death.
George K. Goodwin had previously been one of the owners of Goodwin and Wilder's circus, and when he parted from Somerby he settled in Philadelphia and opened a general store on Chestnut Street, in which every article was sold for exactly one dollar, no more, no less. He was prosperous, and later secured the lease of the Walnut Street Theatre, which he controlled until his death. Goodwin was a natural hustler from "Bosting," and perfectly adapted for the business end of his compact little show, but his mental capacity was extremely limited while his vanity was extremely unlimited. In the lingo of the present day, he was "stuck on himself," always dressed with precision in the height of fashion, and being of low stature he wore three inch heels on his boots to give him a lift. He was the precise opposite of Rufus Somerby, who was a fine built man with an upright military carriage, of rare mental attainments, a speaker of extraordinary ability, and loaded with that peculiar winning quality which made a friend of all whom he came in contact with, and which we term magnetism. Among his friends were many statesmen and men of importance, and had he entered into political life it is certain he could have attained and maintained any position with credit.
Programme from Harry Houdini Collection
Both Rufus Somerby and Norwood the Fakir claimed to be pioneers in the gift show field, and each asserted that he was the originator of the idea, but in this respect both were mistaken, because gifts had been utilized for show purposes by Prof. W. H. Young, whose debut was made at Newburgh, N. Y., July 13, 1864, and also by Macallister, as related above, and both antedated Somerby and Norwood.
In 1866, a certain "Fabian" was decorated with such elaborate charms as "Basilicon," "Plinthinist," "Demonologist," "Thaumaturgist" and also with "Cream de Lave of Agromancers," and if you can guess what these things are you can have them. Thaumaturgist had been distilled many years previously and was in general use, and knowing this Fabian probably felt that the poor thing had lost some of its efficiency and deserved reinforcement, and at once he sprang to its relief and inflicted upon the public a horrible word of seven syllables—"Basilconthaumaturgist." Fabian endured for but a brief period, no doubt because of his being encumbered with such a pageant of eccentric freaks of language, and which may be attributed to the ingenuity of Somerby, who was manager for Fabian.
That "Cream de Lave of Agromancers" impresses me as being profoundly melting and almost good enough to eat, but appears rather indigestible for ordinary consumption and seems to make ugly faces at every other example of highbrow magic title I have seen, but it was exactly in Somerby's style who was always looking for mystery, and if he could find it in the cyclopedia he would promptly invent it.
Prof. Young announced himself as an "Obelisk of Magic," doubtless with a view of overcoming that "Agromancer" thing and which might be construed as meaning tall and tough and sounds powerful, and when he met with success his brother A. A. Young bounded into the arena with "Mysteriarch," which was very good indeed but not quite up to the other high grade specimens of lingual art. This magician also made an important feature of a long array of gifts.
When Prof. W. H. Young died his wife continued the business engaging Prof. Edwin Fay Rice (now member of S. A. M.) to give the entertaniment, and this excellent artist was obliged to assume an endless assortment of potent titles, you couldn't do tricks without them, and so Rice became a Professor of "Physical Science," "Cardomancy," "Philosophy," "Mechanism," "Diabolostics," "Natural Magic," "Archolocism," and a few others of equal interest, but that "Agromancers" still sat erect and enjoyed a triumph over all competitors, while if Rice could possibly get away with this incomplete register of his genius, he must have been the champion strong man of his time.
Prof. E. F. Rice was among the foremost and most talented magicians of his day, and severing his connection with Mrs. Young, organized his own company and met success in his tours of New England, where he resides at the time of this writing. His bills contain this curious paragraph: "Ladies and Gentlemen will please favor the professor with such articles as he may require in the preference of any illusions," which gives the impression that the public had met with accidents in this connection, and thought that possibly the magician might skip out with the borrowed property, an incident which had often occurred.
Programme from Harry Houdini Collection
"The Great de Florence," assisted by Miss Jennie Vaughn, gave shows and gifts down East about this time under the direction of the ubiauitous Somerby, who announced "a peculiar entertainment" and a "Palaestra of presents," and while I don't just know what a palaestra consists of I believe this was Somerby's last effort to tickle the public and his purse, for I never heard of him again.
Wyman, the Wizard, and Signor Blitz were among the best known magicians of the period, both at times giving gifts and both were residents of Philadelphia, and past middle age when I saw them. Wyman's stage was fully draped in black velvet, while a shelf extended clear across the rear about as high as his head, and along this shelf was distributed a fine array of decorated cups, boxes, bottles and other magical apparatus and reminded me of the display in a store where tricks are on sale. Three feet in front of the shelf a table or counter extended clear across the stage, and sometimes in front and sometimes behind this Wyman operated. He was conceded as a good all round entertainer. Wyman was a great favorite among the ladies and children and he took pains in catering to them since they usually comprised four-fifths of his audiences, while the amount of candy these consumed at each of his performances must have cost him a pretty penny.
Signor Blitz gave a more modern entertainment, making use of handsome drapery and with only a table and chairs upon the stage and he probably utilized more "plants" than any magician I have ever seen. His act of mesmerism utilized a dozen men who would perpetrate the most ridiculous antics, generate immense hilarity, and was his leading feature, and the same act to-day would surely "go" if the same talented "plants" could be secured, for they were all artists of rare and peculiar merit. In this act Blitz always invited a dozen kids of from six to twelve years of age to the stage, and these innocent and impressionable youngsters added vastly to the vivacity of the act and were themselves a source of much merriment. When last I saw Blitz he was probably sixty years of age and his face was a study in classic comeliness. It was fairly round, and from ear to ear the chin was fringed with a heavy beard of snow white hair, the top of the head thickly covered with the same color hair, while a hue of rosy red bloomed upon his cheeks. He would perform a trick, and when finished would face his audience, utter not a word, but the snow-bordered winning smile plainly asked:—"Isn't that just wonderful?" The only descendants of either Wyman or Blitz of whom I have any knowledge is the daughter of Signor Blitz, who won great popularity upon the operatic stage under the name of Marie Van Zandt.
Perhaps the most unique scheme in the gift show struggle to catch the eye was Norwood, the Fakir's announcement that a live pig was among the list of gifts to be distributed by him, and a picture of a large fat pig decorated his circulars bearing the caption: "Portrait of the pig to be given, away by Norwood. Free pigs for good people," making it appear that he purposed to go "the whole hog or none." When the pig distribution moment arrived the audience saw a little pig of five or six pounds, whose heroic squeals could be heard for blocks away and when it attempted to tone down its ear-piercing shrieks, a twist of the tail encouraged it to raise its frightful protests more powerful than before. Of course it bred an uproar of laughter, which was the object, and made the audience momentarily overlook the disappointment in the size of the porker.
While pigs as a steady diet seem to have been upon the menu of but few magicians, canary birds appear to have been in considerable demand as an attraction. Logrenia had a large and varied assortment of extremely well trained birds, and Signor Blitz made an important feature of his birds which were always a source of delight to the little people. The Flying Cage trick with the canary had not yet appeared, but was invented some years later by the French magician De Kolta and was introduced by him.
The majority of these gift show promoters were pure swindlers, promising much, drawing large audiences and suddenly skipping out with their ill-gotten gains, only to bob up in another town to repeat the audacious pillage, yet I think the people just "hankered after them," and I am sure they got them in copious lumps, more especially because of the energetic efforts of one New Yorker who was an adept in the gentle art of rascality. He was a tall, slender man of fine appearance, named Jack Shed, by profession, a "faro dealer" in one of the numerous wide-open games nestled about Broadway and Houston Street, and he was the most persistent and talented gift show "skin" promoter of his or any other time, and the only one who, to my knowledge, made the game a species of scientific study, met with constant success and was never held up by the police as many others were to their sorrow. Numberless empirics were injected into the magical sphere through Shed's methods, and I believe the crafty Tom Allen, known to many of his victims as Allyne, was one of Shed's most diligent disciples.
It was Shed's method to work the near-by cities such as Newark, Paterson, Elizabeth, Brooklyn, New Haven, Hartford, land on them about once a month, scoop ina wad and suddenly and mysteriously disappear. He would rent a hall at from ten to twenty dollars a night, flood the vicinity with yellow quarter sheets announcing a long and costly array of imposing gifts, with a famous magician to give a mag-nificent performance and at every repeat the name of some other magician appeared upon the bills. And he was rather liberal in his selection of names, choosing such as The Great Anderson, Bosco, Macallister, and even those of Wyman and Blitz if these well known artists were in a distant part of the country giving their entertainment, for long before they could have learned of the imposition, Shed would have finished operations and departed for a new field and under another name. Whenever Shed repeated in the same town he always introduced a new face on the stage and a new name, and some of these magicians were as competent as a dead Sioux Indian. They were paid ten or fifteen dollars to hold the audience a little while and then the artist would drop the curtain, pack his duds in a hand bag, stroll down the rear stairs and disappear while Shed bagged the "dough" in front and went home.
"What about the audience," did you ask? Well, say, it was about the liveliest, if not entirely the gayest, crowd you ever saw, for just as quick as it discovered that it had been swindled for the nth time, it just tore loose and it would make your soul dance with joy to look upon the mob of howling and cussing "suckers", and to feel that the same sweet game would be along again in a few weeks and the same "Yaps" would fall as hard as ever, give up freely, pack the hall to capacity and again break away with a howl that would eclipse any previous example of roar and make a yell from the bleachers after a home run sound like a little tin whistle.
Shed was a born and inveterate gambler and when he was not engaged in blistering gift show gudgeons, he was either dealing faro, playing the races or operating at the poker table, and once, on reaching home, his wife said: "Jack, how is it you always bring a big roll home when you play poker and a small roll when you play the horses?" "My dear," replied Shed, "I don't shuffle the horses."
Shed told me that in one year he had cleaned up over nine thousand dollars in this nimble scheme and only recently I was amazed to meet him at Broadway and Forty-second Street looking old, worn and seedy. "How aer they coming?" I asked. "They ain't," he replied. "No games working now." "No games!" he exclaimed; "say, Kid, you got a wad? Come along and I'll put you on a dozen wide open and all crooked within ten minutes' walk." I told him I had left my wad on the piano when he informed me that he was keeping cases in (name deleted by the Censor) game and occasionally won a tip or lifted a sleeper and this fed him in a manner. Verily Jordan is a hard road to travel.
Programme from Harry Houdini Collection
Tom Allyne was another adept among the leaders in the fine art of swindling; indeed, he was so crooked that I think he could hide behind a corkscrew. He was his own manager, gave the performance himself, and disappeared with the receipts with all the grace and skill in which you could palm a coin. He did not confine his efforts to any particular section of country, as was Shed's habit, but generously distributed his rascality into widely separated communities and various states. He would perpetrate his iniquities at Hartford on Monday night and at Buffalo on Saturday night, two ambuscades weekly being the capacity of his enterprise, the intervening time being utilized in selecting a new name, printing and distributing the advertising and dissipating the proceeds of his last depredation. It was easy for him to disappear quickly after one of his frisky efforts, and under the circumstances speed was of much importance, for which reason his entire outfit, including personal clothing, was carried in a large carpet bag.
Allyne could find no end to the array of gifts promised but never delivered, and he had a custom of calling upon merchants and arranging to buy costly and bulky articles with a promise to pay for them before delivery, which, of course, was always satisfactory. In places he arranged to give away a new piano or a horse and buggy, and such costly gifts were sure to draw large audiences, but as it was difficult to bring these upon the stage, it was announced that written orders upon leading merchants, whose names were printed, would be given to the lucky members. Inquiry among the merchants proved that the arrangement had been consumated, and this only increased public interest, but no demands were ever made for these articles because Allyne never gave away any orders for them.
There were a few good towns in which Allyne appeared for an entire week, and, of course, gave a good show and many useful gifts, but always for the purpose of concluding with a big killing. The fair dealing during the week established a good reputation for him and naturally resulted in a crowded house on Saturday night when the conjuror and the cash vanished like a shooting star, leaving a thousand high grade "suckers" weeping, gnashing their teeth and saying mean things while the crafty Allyne was a few hundred miles away counting the money in peaceful comfort and seclusion.
Harry Kellar told me recently that he had met Allyne out west some ten years ago looking shabby and destitute, which is only the natural termination of such an insolent and boisterous career.
About 1865 the country was invaded by a vast parade of "Fakirs", men of the tricky sphere who annexed the word Fakir to some oriental town and used it to advertise themselves and among others the big type announced the Fakir of Ava, who was Hughes, of Buffalo, the Fakir of "Vishnu, the Fakir of Siva, the Fakir of Oola, the Fakir of Simla, the Fakir of Bhopal, the Fakir of Jeypoor, the Fakir of Brahma, and if there were any towns in India who were lucky enough to escape from these specialists, they must have been confined in Houdini's Chinese Torture Cell, probably the only place on earth where they would have been secure from confiscation. And every one of these men admitted, and even openly declared, that he himself was the genuine, most exalted, most illustrious, most majestic, and the real and only honest-to-goodness actual greatest that ever lived.
The word Fakir is of Hindoo origin and denotes a Mahommedan ascetic or mendicant priest, while the word Faker, in common use at the present time, undoubtedly originated with these magicians of 1865 to 1875 and is generally accepted as meaning a humbug, which most of these fellows really were.
During this period down east was gladdened by the appearance of Prof. Ward as chief insurgent, with the staple gift annex, and an unusual series of windy challenges to anybody and everybody who considered themselves magicians. He was consumed with a burning ambition—on paper—to meet Herrmann, Heller and Blitz, and mentioned the names of these famous artists on his programmes in the largest type and in such a conspicuous manner that a superficial reading would lead a person to believe all had united and were going to perform together, which, of course, was hardly possible.
Ward announced as one of his attractions Frank Florence, the "Great Comedian and Vocalist" (?) and who, the bill stated, had previously been known as Dilly Fay, the famous clown with the Spalding and Rogers Floating Palace Circus. This show was given upon a specially built steamboat which navigated the western rivers and running up on the levees at all important landings, pushed out the planks and did an immense business. I am well acquainted with the Floating Palace because I was assistant agent to Dr. Richard P. Jones, the general agent of the show in 1859 and 1860, and knew Dilly Fay very well and often, as we steamed along the rivers I sat upon the upper deck and conversed with him.
This fellow Ward was untruthful when he said the proper name of Dilly Fay was Florence, but a little thing like that never caused these mountebanks the least annoyance, for they would invent anything on the spur of the moment without the least regard for the truth, say it right out loud and get away with it, and, curious to relate, the biggest sort of a lie would be cheerfully swallowed by many people as if it was a sugar almond.
Dilly Fay was probably the most accomplished Shakespearian jester the circus has ever known as well as an exceedingly clever artist with brush and pencil. He was born in Cincinnati, and when only thirty years of age, fell a victim to tuberculosis which ended his career. He died in Cincinnati at the home of his brother, Thomas Waugh, a well-known scene painter, in December, 1862, many years before the advent of Ward. There is living at this moment in Brooklyn a very old man who was also a famous Shakesperian jester and a companion of Dilly Fay, and I am confident he will confirm what I have said. His name is Peter Conklin.
Prof. Zera, right name Semon, and a native of Charlottsville, Va., was one of the well known and successful gift show entertainers of his time, his magic being entirely mechanical, while ventriloquism was first class. He always closed his show with a performance of marionettes, which were remarkably fine, and he always won the sympathy of the audience because of his being a cripple—one leg being shorter than the other.
I thought he was under my management but soon found that I was under his wife's management. She was an attractive woman and ruled the roost a great vigor, and the way in which she bossed the outfit was a dream in generalship.
And say, that girl could cuss and swear to make your soul rejoice. I have never heard her equal among the male sex in constant and competent cussing.
The last I heard of Zera he was located in Halifax, engaged in the fish industry.
This gift show vocation introduced one heroic romancer who assumed the name of Bosco, which several others also did at different periods, but this particular Bosco attacked the public with monumental audacity, announced his wagonload of gifts with his "Gorgeous Palace of Illusions," and declared that he had appeared at Egyptian Hall, London, for three years and had won enthusiastic tributes from Queen Victoria and the Prince of Wales, afterward King Edward. Bosco even went so far as to print the most extravagant letters of praise signed by these illustrious personages and I think this is the only instance where real Kings and Queens rested from their labors, locked up their thrones, crowns and probably jewels, and went down town to spend an evening with a gift show, and judging from the fervent letters they sent to this equivocal Bosco, and which he printed, they must have had lots of fun.
The first and original Bartolomeo Bosco was born January 11, 1795, at Turin, Italy, of noble lineage, and after serving under the Emperor Napoleon at the fall of Moscow, was pierced by a Cossack lance and fell to the earth apparently dead. He revived and was transported to Siberia. In 1814 he was released, and returning to Italy, became an exceedingly popular and prosperous magician. He had a son named Eugene, who, it is alleged, was a more talented performer than the father, but both died in poverty, the father passing away at Dresden, March 2, 1865, and his remains are buried there. It is possible the letters utilized in this country by the impostor were originally written to the genuine Bosco when he entertained London. After his death counterfeit Bosco's sprang up in great numbers in all parts of the world; indeed, the name of no other artist has been so numerously appropriated in the history of the stage while every section of our own country could patronize and applaud its own special Bosco.
It may have been the effect of these stimulating and numerous Boscos produced upon a woman which encouraged her to give gifts and a magical entertainment at Taunton, Mass., under the name of Caroline Houdin, her week in that city being the only record of her enterprise obtainable, although the name of Houdin had been assumed by other magicians of the male sex, but the accent in their speech was always strongly flavored with the tint of Yankeeland.
Programme from Harry Houdini Collection
One of the best known magicians of this period was Prof. Logrenia whom I first noted when he appeared at the Temple, St. Louis, Mo., during state fair week in 1872, and gave an excellent, although somewhat mixed, entertainment of the general essence of a variety show. Logrenia's show was a compound of magic, comedy, vocalism, trained cats, Java sparrows, parakeets and cockatoos, combined with Sam Sharpley's Silver Show, meaning gifts of silverware. Sharpley became well known at a later period as the owner of Sam Sharpley's minstrels while Logrenia toured the country for a long time afterwards.
The famous magician Macallister died in 1856, but from the programmes I have seen he must have been reincarnated and was able to give magic and gifts at the Globe Theatre, on Broadway opposite Waverly Place, New York, some twenty years after his death—to be exact, September, 1878.
Here he was billed as the "Famous Magician Macallister," and gave an excellent performance during the two weeks of his engagement, after which he toured the country under the management of C. Amory Bruce, former partner of Rufus Somerby. He was thorougly acquainted with all details of the gift show methods and was one of the ablest business men in the profession. After leaving New York, the magician's name upon the bills bore the initials "J. M. Macallister," these being the first letters of his correct name, John Mawhr, he having been a native of Ayr, Scotland, and was in no manner related to Andrew Macallister, the original of the name. Five years previously, to be exact, during January, 1873, a Prof. Macallister appeared at Masonic Hall, Indianapolis, giving gifts and exhibited the Inexhaustable Bottle, the Birth of Flowers, using four pots and bushes, the Suspension, and had trained canaries, and it seems that every magician did the same things at that time. It was generally believed that this man was the original of the name, which was an error, for Andrew Macallister, the first magician of the name, died twenty years previously, but had appeared in the United States from 1848 to 1852 with much success, while the John Mawhr Macallister spent the four closing years of his life in the almshouse in San Francisco, where he died on October 21, 1899, and after being used for scientific purposes, his remains were interred in the Potters Field.
Prof. Hartz, Robert Nickel, Prof. De Lantie, Prof. Anderson, Prof. De Leon, Prof. Queen, Prof. De Castro, Prof. Berger, Prof. Knox, Prof. Seaman, Prof. Cooke, and an endless additional procession of professors, illuminated the milky way of magic in the happy or unhappy past, all of whom came to my notice, but few of whom I knew personally, and no matter how talented they may have been, but few met with prosperity until they annexed a gift enterprise when those who conducted the scheme fairly did well while the other brand speedily disappeared into the discard.
It was while Hartz was under my management and playing in Worcester, Mass., that I came across a little card issued on behalf of a church festival upon which was printed: "This Card Entitles the Holder to One Chance in the Grab Bag," the Grab Bag being the Sunday School disguise for running a lottery and to scoop in a few dollars to assist the minister in living comfortably.
At once I saw an opportunity for securing some good advertising and had several thousand cards printed on bright red china board, size about 3 x 4 inches, reading:
One of these cards was given to every pupil in the public schools at dismissal with the result that the hall was packed to suffocation, many adults attending "to take care of the children." Hartz made extra efforts to give a fine performance and introduced specialties which appealed to the kids, and on the following morning the school rooms were illuminated with bright red lead pencils decorated with the name of Hartz in gold letters. In addition to the pencils we distributed twenty-five hams and a few other important gifts.
My view was that in entertaining and gratifying the kids an amount of tongue advertising would follow which would prove of great value and such was the result. Everybody else in the business promptly pilfered the idea and school cards came into general use good for Saturday afternoons, but I considered this a poor policy since these afternoons were always productive of large houses at regular prices with Hartz, and also because our straight-forward and liberal methods were familiar throughout the community long before the end of the week and required no reduction in prices to assure large matinees.
It would be absurd and unjust to classify in the same rank all magicians who utilized gifts as an attraction, many of them being not only clever performers, but men of the highest integrity who would never tolerate an act of dishonesty, men like Hartz, Rice, Blitz and Wyman.
It was the numerous professional humbugs, the men of little skill and no principle, whose constant impositions reflected disastrously upon reputable magicians and caused them much vexation and trouble, and these were the very things the crooks anticipated and were prepared for.
They were a disreputable array of impostors and their shameless exploits did endless injury to the gentle art of magic, and they implanted a hurtful impression upon all conjurors which to this day has not been eradicated.
The great drawing power of the gift show is that eager element in human nature of getting something for nothing. It cannot be termed cupidity, yet it will always exist and its spirit is found now in what is known as "The Country Grocery Store," which is a modern and singular title for an ancient game on a small scale. It is difficult to imagine why this name was selected to cover the giving of presents, yet while the Grocery Store escapes being unlawful, the gift show was a lottery undisguised.
The Store appears to be a source of much amusement aside from the gift feature, while the most costly gifts usually swim back via the underground method.
At the Country Store produced at the Casino, Brooklyn, it was announced that a horse would be given away, and of course a vast crowd of good people wanted that horse, and the house was packed with horse wanters. When led upon the stage, the horse was completely covered with a handsome blanket, but after the presentation, when the blanket was removed, the poor horse was simply a calamity. He was so aged, worn and thin that the bones were clearly outlined through the skin, and it seemed as if a derrick was needed to hold him up. However, the lucky new owner led the animal up the aisle amid a most terrific noise, when he heard a voice exclaim: "Give you five dollars for it." "It's yours," and he threw the halter into the hands of the bidder who handed over the cash and calmly led the animal away.
This horse had actually cost thirty dollars, and a week later made its appearance at the Gotham Theatre, 125th Street, and was advertised as a horse and carriage, the latter proving to be a baby carriage of the vintage of 1848 and twice as badly wrecked as the horse.
This outfit was given away on Thursday night, and on the following Saturday the animal ambulance carried the remains to the horse graveyard. But the poor horse created heaps of fun for the patrons of this modern gift show, and these are the exact people who would be apple pie for an expert gift showman to fall upon while he would surely touch them up for an extremely healthy roll of bond buying material.
During the gift show epoch, there was a great and peculiar institution in existence, national in its ramifications, known as the Louisiana State Lottery, with headquarters at New Orleans where it held fixed drawings—mighty well fixed to boot—which flooded the world with circulars and tickets and accumulated great sums of money running into millions of dollars and in its propaganda controlled high officials, Governors and even legislatures, for which purpose, it was openly alleged, large sums of cash had been utilized. It brought extravagant display in all important newspapers, covered every nook and corner in the country with attractive and gorgeous posters, sent alluring circulars in every direction, and employed ten thousand agents in selling tickets and incidentally working up the game energetically.
It was, however, a transparent and monumental fraud, and this was so clearly apparent that Congress sat in, took a hand and came down upon it with triphammer force, closing and sealing it up hermetically, while the law was so worded that it embraced everything resembling a lottery including gift shows and church grab bags. This quickly sank the gift show business into a morass so deep that it has never floated again. The promoters of the lottery removed to Honduras, but the distant location and inadequate mail conditions soon ended its career and the gang returned to this country with tubs of "dough", purchased admission into our aristocracy, and among the swells of what we at present term "society", are many of the direct descendants of this mob of robbers.
It seems to me that the majority of gift shows of that period rather closely resembled the New Orleans black art, but, of course, on a feeble scale, yet I am confident that if an honest show could be operated in the present augmented and prosperous condition of our country, the profits would almost reach the dimensions of a Liberty Loan.
In this narrative I have not enumerated all who masqueraded under the venerated banner of magic during my earlier years in the profession, principally because they appear unworthy of notice, but all of importance are here written down so far as my memory recalls them from the misty past. And it is difficult to fix exact dates in recording many of the incidents and actors because of the sixty years of a very active and varied career that have ambled along cheerfully and stored by head with memoirs of an infinite array of interesting and inspiring adventures.
My condition is that of the pianist in the Texas dance room over whose instrument hung a sign bearing the legend: "Don't shoot the pianist; he is doing his level best." That is just what I have done.
Originally published in the M-U-M in Vol. 7, No. 58, in New York, January 1918.
