“June 14, 1871. Notice of the death of Robert-Houdin, Jean-Eugène, died at St. Gervais, June 13, 1871, at 10 P. M., sixty-five years of age. Son of the defunct Prosper Robert and Marie Catherine Guillon; widower of his first wife Josephe Cecile Eglantine Houdin; married the second time to Françoise Marguerite Olympe Naconnier; Court House of St. Gervais, signed—The Mayor.” The signature is illegible.
William Manning was an intimate friend of Houdin. When the famous conjurer went to London to exhibit, he lodged at the house of Manning’s father. William was a young man at the time and deeply enamored with conjuring exhibitions. {155} Houdin showed him many favors and presented him with a number of souvenirs, among them being a magic clock, a harlequin-in-the-box, etc., also a photograph of himself, a copy of which Mr. Manning sent to me a few years ago, during the course of a correspondence I had with him concerning Houdin. Up to the time of his death the great conjurer exchanged letters with his friend, then a grown man. Houdin’s closing years were saddened by the tragic death of his son, Eugène, who was killed at Reichshoffen in the Franco-Prussian War. He was a sub-lieutenant in the French army and a graduate of the military school at St. Cyr. He assisted his father on the stage, but abandoned conjuring for a military career. In a letter to William Manning, dated September 11, 1870, Houdin describes the affair at Reichshoffen: . . . . “My son was 33 years old; he was captain since 1866; he belonged to the 1st Zouaves and was considered one of the bravest in that brave corps. You can judge of it by the following extract from an article in the Figaro, of Sept. 3, entitled ‘An episode of Reichshoffen,’ an extract from a private letter. This letter was undoubtedly written by a soldier in my son’s company; it is signed with an X. I omit the harrowing incidents which preceded this sad retreat. . . . . ‘The line had received orders to break up and were defeated, 35,000 against 140,000! My company (1st Zouaves) was drawn up on the battle-field, to be used as sharp-shooters, alone, without artillery; we were to resist the retreat. Upon the order of Captain Robert-Houdin, Lieutenant Girard advanced with two men to reconnoitre the enemy. He took three steps, and fell, crying: ’Do not give up the Coucou, (a familiar expression applied to the flag). We carried him away and the Captain shouted ‘Fire!’ The order to retreat came, but we did not hear it, and continued to beat against a wall of fire which illuminated our ranks. Soon our Captain fell, saying: ‘Tell them . . . that I fell facing the enemy.’ A bullet had pierced his breast. He was taken in the ambulance to Reichshoffen where he died, four days later, from his wound.”
“My dear Manning, would you believe it, my brave son, mortally wounded as he was, had the heroic courage amidst {156} flying shot to take from his pocket a pencil and a card and to write these words: ‘Dear father, I am wounded, but be reassured, it is only a trifle.’ He could not sign this. The card and the envelope are stained with his blood. This precious relic was sent to me from Reichshoffen after my son’s death.”
LITHOGRAPHED INVITATION-TICKET DESIGNED BY HOUDIN.
(The signatures are those of Houdin and Hamilton.)
Emile, the elder son who distinguished himself in the “Second-Sight Trick,” as soon as his father retired from the stage, became a watchmaker. He published a work on horology to which his father wrote the following preface:
“I have often been asked why my son did not follow the career I had opened for him in prestidigitation, but preferred instead the study of horology. My answer to the question may be used fitly as a preface to this pamphlet.
“If you believe in hereditary vocations, here is a case for their just application. My son’s maternal great-grandfather, Nicolas Houdin, was a watchmaker of great merit in the last century. J. F. Houdin, his son, has gained, as is well known, a prominent place among the most distinguished watchmakers of his time. A certain modesty, which you will understand, prevents me from praising my father as highly; I shall only say {157} that he was a very skilful and ingenious watchmaker. Before devoting myself to the art of conjuring, based on mechanism, I, too, was for a long time a watchmaker and achieved some success.
