Modern Magic: A Practical Treatise on the Art of Conjuring

by Professor Hoffmann

“Davus might have solved the ‘Anthropoglossus,’ but Colonel Stodare presents us with a Sphinx that is really worthy of an Œdipus.”

For the benefit of those who have never seen this illusion presented upon the stage, we will describe its effect a little more minutely. The Sphinx is always made a separate portion of the entertainment, as it is necessary to lower the curtain for a few moments before and after its appearance, in order to arrange and remove the necessary preparations. The curtain rises, and reveals a round or oval table, supported upon three slender legs, and utterly devoid of drapery. This stands in a curtained recess of ten or twelve feet square, open on the side towards the audience. The performer comes forward bearing a cloth-covered box, fifteen to twenty inches square, and places it upon the table already mentioned. He then unlocks the box, the front of which drops down, so as to give a perfect view of the interior, in which is seen a head of Egyptian fashion, and coloured in perfect imitation of life. (See Frontispiece.) The performer now retires to a position in the very midst of the audience, and raising his wand, says in a tone of command, “Sphinx, awake!” The Sphinx slowly opens its eyes, looking first to the front with a strong gaze; then, as if gradually gaining consciousness, to the one side and the other, the head moving slightly with the eyes. Questions are put by the performer to the head, and are answered by it, the play of the mouth and features being in perfect harmony with the sounds uttered. Finally, in answer to a query of the operator, the Sphinx declaims a neatly turned oracle in verse. This concludes the exhibition, and the performer closes the box. Should the audience call for an encore, the performer addresses them to the following or some similar effect:—“Ladies and gentlemen, I am glad that the Sphinx has afforded you satisfaction, and I should be only too pleased to be able to indulge the desire which you kindly testify of seeing it again. Unfortunately, this is not possible. The charm by which I am enabled, as you have seen, to revivify for a space the ashes of an ancient Egyptian, who lived and died some centuries ago, lasts but for fifteen minutes. That time has now expired, and the head which has astonished you with its mysterious eloquence has again returned to its original dust.” As he speaks the last words, he again opens the box, and the head is found to have disappeared, leaving in its place a handful of ashes.

Fig. 296. Fig. 297.

This singular illusion depends upon the well-known principle, common to optics as to mechanics, that “the angle of reflection is equal to the angle of incidence.” Thus, if a person standing at the point a, in [Fig. 296], look into a mirror placed in the position indicated by the line b c, he will see reflected, not himself, but whatever object may be placed at the point d. By an ingenious application of this principle a looking-glass may be used to conceal a given object behind it, while at the same time an image reflected in the glass may be made to represent what would be presumably seen if no glass were there, and thus prevent the presence of the mirror from being suspected. This is the secret of the Sphinx. The table, as already mentioned, has three legs, one in front, and one at each side. Between these legs the spectator sees apparently the curtains at the back of the recess, but really a reflection of the curtains at the sides. The space between the middle leg and that on either side is occupied by pieces of looking-glass (see [Fig. 297], which represents a ground plan of the arrangement), extending from a to b, and a to c. The glass extends quite down to the floor, which is covered with cloth of the same material and colour as the surrounding curtains. The spectators, therefore, looking towards the table, see above it the curtains at the back, and below it the reflection of the curtains at the sides; which, however, if the relative angles are properly arranged, appears to be simply the continuation or lower portion of the curtains at the back. The illusion is perfect, and the spectator, from the position assigned to him, cannot possibly discover, by the evidence of his senses, that he is looking at any other than an ordinary bare-legged table, with the background visible in the usual way.

The rest is a very simple matter. The person who is to represent the Sphinx is beforehand placed, duly attired, underneath the table. There is a trap in the table through which he can pass his head at the proper moment. This trap is a round piece of wood, covered to match the surface of the table, and working on a hinge on the side nearest to the audience. It has no spring, but is kept closed by means of a button on the opposite side, and when released hangs down perpendicularly. It must be large enough to allow the passage of the somewhat elaborate headpiece of the Sphinx, and would therefore leave an open space visible round the neck. This difficulty is met by the expedient of having a wooden collar, whose upper surface is a facsimile in size and pattern of the trap, fastened round the neck of the representative of the Sphinx. When he lifts his head up through the trap, this collar exactly fills the opening, and thus shows no break in the surface of the table. The box is bottomless, and when brought forward by the performer is empty. A little caution has to be observed in placing it upon the table, for, if the performer were to approach the table from the side, his legs would be reflected in the glass, and would thereby betray the secret. He must therefore make his appearance from some quarter outside of the curtained recess, and advance to a position well in front of, and at some little distance from the table, when, by moving in a straight line from the audience towards the middle leg a, he prevents this inconvenient reflection. The placing the box upon the table, and the unlocking it, allow time for the representative of the Sphinx to get his head into position within it. This done, the box is opened, and the rest depends on the dramatic talent of the performer and his assistant. The performance being concluded, the box is again locked, and the head withdrawn, a handful of ashes being introduced on the trap in its stead.

The angle at which the two mirrors should be set cannot be determined absolutely, but will vary according to the distance and position of the surrounding drapery.

Some performers use a shawl or a screen of cardboard in place of the box, but we doubt whether any method is more effective than that above described.

The ghastly illusion of the so-called “Decapitated Head,” which drew crowds to the Polytechnic some few years since, was merely the “Sphinx” in a less pleasant form.