Memoirs of Robert-Houdin, ambassador, author and conjurerRobert-Houdin, Jean-Eugène
General
Memoirs of Robert-Houdin, ambassador, author and conjurer
Robert-Houdin, Jean-Eugène
Magicians -- France -- Biography; Robert-Houdin, Jean-Eugène, 1805-1871
Bullets thus prepared bear an extraordinary resemblance to lead, and are
easily mistaken for that metal when seen at a short distance off.
With this explanation, the trick will be easily understood. After
showing the leaden bullet to the spectators, I changed it for my hollow
ball, and openly put the latter into the pistol. By pressing the wad
tightly down, the wax broke into small pieces, and could not touch me at
the distance I stood.
At the moment the pistol was fired, I opened my mouth to display the
lead bullet I held between my teeth, while the other pistol contained
the bullet filled with blood, which bursting against the wall, left its
imprint, though the wax had flown to atoms.
After a pleasant journey, we reached Milianah at four in the afternoon.
The head of the Arab office, Captain Bourseret, received us most kindly,
and begged us to regard his house as our own during the whole time of
our stay.
M. Bourseret resided with his mother, and that excellent lady showed
Madame Robert-Houdin all those delicate attentions which only a friend
of long standing could have claimed.
Our trip across the D’jendel had fatigued us, hence we passed the
greater portion of the next day in resting ourselves.
At night, the captain gave a grand dinner, to which the general
commanding, the lieutenant-colonel, and some notabilities of the town
were invited. After the repast, I thought I could not better repay my
polite reception than by giving a small performance, in which I
displayed all my skill. As I had told M. Bourseret, during the day, of
my intention, he had invited a large evening party; and I must suppose
my experiments pleased, if I may judge by the greeting they received.
Besides, my public were so favorably disposed towards me, that they
often applauded on trust, as they could not all see very well.
Milianah was the end of my journey. I could only remain three days, if I
wished to return to Algiers in time for the steamer that would convey us
to France.
M. Bourseret arranged an excursion for the second day of my stay at his
house to visit the Beni-Menasseh, a nomadic tribe at that time encamped
a few leagues from Milianah.
At six in the morning we took horse, accompanied by some of the
captain’s friends, and went down the mountain on which the town is
built.
We were escorted by a dozen Arabs attached to the office, all clothed in
red mantles, and armed with guns.
Orders had certainly been given beforehand, for, on reaching the plain,
at the first _goum_ we passed through, ten Arabs mounted their horses
and formed our escort. A little further on another troop joined the
first, and our band, acting like a rolling snow-ball, ended by attaining
considerable proportions. It was composed of about two hundred Arabs.
After two hours’ march, we quitted the high road, and entered a plain
that extended an immense distance in front of us.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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