My readers will perceive that the automatic figures of these caterers of wonders are neither original nor novel. I hope that, as the art of magic is so very popular, a brief exposition of the subject will be found interesting to many readers.
It is my intention in this and the following chapters to give a brief summary of the history of mechanical magic in ancient and modern times, and then to furnish a full explanation of how the apparently marvellous results of sleight of hand, second sight, and the mysterious movements of automata of the present day, are attained; and my readers will no doubt reap a harvest of information on the subject, and will be able not only to perform many of the numerous tricks at which they have before been astonished, but will also be in a position to explain to the uninitiated “How it is done.”
Passing over the ancient oracles which have been shown so frequently as being worked by the simple law of mechanics, I would merely mention that Plato and Aristotle both speak of certain statues made by Dædalus which could not only walk, but which it was necessary to bind in order to prevent them from moving. The latter speaks of a wonderful Venus of this kind, and all we are told of the motive power is that Dædalus made it move by means of quicksilver. Aulus Gellius mentions a wooden pigeon which possessed the power of flying, but the only fault of this piece of mechanism was that when the pigeon once settled, it could not renew its aërial flight. Cassiodorus, who lived in the sixth century, gives a concise and graphic description of certain machines invented by Bœthius. He says “the birds of Diomedes (a mechanician of that date) trumpet in brass, the brazen serpent hisses, counterfeit swallows chatter, and such as have no proper note send forth from brass harmonious music.” Accounts of the heads said to have been constructed by Roger Bacon and Albertus Magnus, are so mixed up with fables that we cannot rely upon their veracity; and yet our experience has shown us that they could have been produced. They are said not only to have moved, but spoken, and their heads were used as oracles. Perhaps it will be remembered that some years ago a similar head, with the same power of imitating the human voice, was exhibited at the Egyptian Hall, London.
John Muller, known as Regiomontanus, was one of the cleverest mechanicians of the fifteenth century—that is, if we can rely on the testimony of Peter Ramus, who did not flourish until a hundred years afterward. We must take Peter’s account cum grano salis. Regiomontanus is stated to have constructed an eagle which, upon the approach of the Emperor Maximilian to Nuremberg, in June, 1470, perched upon the town gate, stretched forth its wings, and saluted him by an inclination of the body. He is also said to have manufactured an iron fly. At dinner one day, when surrounded by his friends, he produced it for their amusement, and caused the insect to fly from his hand, take a circle round the room, and return again to its maker. Charles V. after his abdication entered with zest into the study of mechanism. He engaged the services of Torriano, said to be a very eminent artist, who accompanied him to the Monastery of Juste. Here they worked together. Strada tells us that his Majesty frequently introduced puppets upon the table, some of which beat drums, some blew trumpets, others charged each other with couched spears, and with a ferocity almost human. He made wooden sparrows, which, by their flight, terrified and scared the superstitious monks, who thought him a magician and an accomplice of his infernal majesty. He is said to have made a mill which moved of itself, and which was so small that a monk could put it up his sleeve, and yet we are told that it was powerful enough to grind in a single day grain sufficient for the consumption of eight men!
Hans Bullman, a padlock-maker of Nuremberg, who lived in the middle of the sixteenth century, made figures of men and women which promenaded backward and forward, beat drums, and played upon the lute. The motive power in this case was known to be clockwork.
In the volume of “Mémoires de l’Académie des Sciences,” of 1729, we find an account of a most extraordinary piece of mechanism invented by one Père Truchet, made solely for the amusement of Louis XIV. when a child. It consisted of a number of moving pictures, representing an opera in five acts, which the little figures enacted—of course, in pantomime.
Camus constructed with the same object a small carriage, drawn by two horses, which contained a little lady, with her coachman driving, and a footman and page holding on behind. When placed upon the floor of the table, the horses galloped along, and the coachman smacked his whip in quite a professional manner. When the carriage stopped, the page got down, opened the door, the lady stepped out, and with a curtsey bowed and presented a petition to the young king. She again bowed, entered the carriage, the page mounted, the coachman flogged his horses, the carriage glided on, while the footman ran behind, and at last jumped upon the box.
In 1738, there were exhibited in Paris, by M. Vaucanson, three automata, which have been reproduced in modern times: one represented a flute player in a sitting posture, which performed twelve distinct tunes; the second was a standing figure, which discoursed harmony on a shepherd’s flute, held in his left hand, while with his right he beat on a tabor; the third was a life-size duck, which flapped its wings, quacked, drank water, ate corn, and even performed other functions of nature that made it more closely resemble its natural prototype. Some idea may be formed of the modus operandi of the cornet player of Messrs. Maskelyne and Cooke, by the information afforded by Vaucanson himself, which was published in 1738, and which purports to give a full explanation of the method of working the automaton flute player. The figure was five feet and a half high; it was seated upon a rock, which was supported by a pedestal four feet high, by three and a half broad. Within the pedestal were eight pair of bellows, which were set in motion by clockwork. The wind was forced into these tubes, which ascended through its trunk, and terminated in a single reservoir connected with the cavity of the mouth. Another piece of clockwork within the pedestal was applied to execute the necessary motions of the fingers, lips, and tongue. A revolving cylinder, with various pegs inserted in it, raised or depressed several levers, on the principle of a barrel organ and in this manner, it was said, music was produced very little inferior, if not equal, to the performance of a skilful flute player of flesh and blood.
One of the most ingenious inventors of mechanical figures was Mons. Maillardet, a Swiss. He exhibited in London a beautiful figure which performed eighteen tunes on the piano, while imitating at the same time all the motions of the human player. From a description given we learn that the bosom heaved, the eyes followed the motions of the fingers, and at the commencement and conclusion of an air the figure turned to the audience and made a graceful salute. Mons. Maillardet also constructed the figure of a boy kneeling that held in the right hand a pencil with which he executed some capital drawings and pieces of writing.
Another marvel produced by the Swiss was a magician, who answered any question put to him from twenty different medals. The medal was placed in a drawer, and, after much cogitation and reference to his books, he, with a solemn wave of his wand, touched the drawer, which opened and displayed the required answer.