Like many a genius and successful man, his early history was written in a minor key. According to Robert-Houdin his sweets did not catch the Parisian fancy, and he went to London, where at that time French bonbons were in high favor. But for some reason he failed in London, and went on to Aberdeen, Scotland, where he was very soon reduced to sore straits. In his hour of extremity his cleverness saved the day. In Aberdeen at the same time was a company of actors almost as unfortunate as himself. They were presenting a pantomime which the public refused to patronize. The young confectioner approached the manager of the pantomime and suggested that they join forces. In addition to the regular admission to the pantomime each patron was to pay sixpence and receive in return a paper of mixed sugar plums and a lottery ticket by which he might gain the first prize of the value of five pounds. In addition, Talon promised not only to provide the sweets free of cost to the management, but to present a new and startling feature at the close of the performance.
The novel announcement crowded the house, the pantomime and the bonbons alike found favor, but the significant feature of the performance was young Talon’s appearance in the finale in the rôle of “Punch,” for which he was admirably made up. He executed an eccentric dance, at the finish of which he pretended to fall and injure himself. In a faint voice he demanded pills to relieve his pain, and a fellow-actor brought on pills of such enormous size that the audience stopped sympathizing with the actor and began to laugh. But the pills all disappeared down the dancer’s throat, for Talon was not only an able confectioner and an agile dancer, but a sleight-of-hand performer. From that hour he exchanged the spoon of the confectioner for the wand of the magician. The fortunes of both the pantomime and Phillippe, as he now called himself, improved. Quite probably he remained with the pantomime company until the close of the season and then struck out as an independent performer.
Another story which is gleaned from a biography of John Henry Anderson, the Wizard of the North, tells how Phillippe started his career as a pastry cook in the household of one Lord Panmure, and I quote this literally from the Anderson book, because I believe it to be truthful, as material gathered from Anderson literature has proved to be:
“It was at this time that he came in contact with a person who afterward, under the designation of M. Phillippe, became celebrated in France as a magician. Phillipee (for so was he named in Scotland) was originally a cook in the services of the late Lord Panmure. Leaving that employment, he settled down and remained for a number of years in Aberdeen. He heard of the fame of the youthful magician, was induced to visit his ‘temple,’ and was struck with his performances; and having made the acquaintance of Mr. Anderson, he solicited from him and obtained an insight into his profession, and fac-similes of his then humble apparatus. Phillippe improved to such a degree upon the knowledge he thus acquired that, leaving England for France, he earned the reputation of being one of the most accomplished magicians ever seen in the country.”
The date of his initial performance is not known, but he must have remained in Scotland, perfecting his act, for the earliest Phillippe programme in my collection is dated February 3d, 1837, when he opened at Waterloo Rooms, Edinburgh, and announced:
“The high character which Mons. Phillippe has obtained from the Aberdeen, Glasgow, Greenock and Paisley Press, being the only four towns in Britain where he has made his appearance, is a sufficient guarantee to procure him a visit from the inhabitants of this enlightened Metropolis, where talent had always been supported when actually deserved.”