CHAPTER EIGHT

THE BIRTH OF "A WOMAN SAWN IN HALF"

IT was in 1906, while playing at the Winter Gardens Theatre, Berlin, that I first had the idea for one of the greatest of all illusions, that of sawing a woman in two before the eyes of the audience.

Ideas are needed by the professional magician just as they are by the story-writer or the playwright, and I have a number of ways in which I find inspiration. One of these is to look at children's toys, and very often I have had the idea for a good effect this way. Walking down a street in Berlin, I chanced to stop and look in the windows of a shop where a great variety of toys were on display, and I was particularly interested in the mechanical toys. But towards the back of the window there was a doll lying in a little cradle, and it suddenly occurred to me that if such a doll could be sawn in half and restored again it would be a good effect. Walking back to my hotel, I pondered over the idea and made some plans for carrying it into practice.

That afternoon I took a busman's holiday and went to watch the performance at the Apollo Theatre. I watched the show act by act, mentally criticizing and applauding, as a professional in the audience always does. Suddenly, while watching an act which had nothing whatever to do with conjuring, I had a sudden "vision". I saw the illusion "A Woman Sawn in Half" actually being performed on the stage.

I cannot explain these visitations. It has happened very often before and since, and I have come to rely on this form of inspiration for some of my best effects. Evidently the subconscious mind is at work. Sometimes, when faced with a seemingly insoluble difficulty, one can put it completely out of one's mind, and then suddenly the solution dawns on one like a flash. This seems very like this process of inspiration of mine.

When I have mentally seen the illusion being performed I have to start to work out the method. It may be very many years before I can put on an act like the one I saw in that flash of inspiration.

Thirteen years passed before I perfected the apparatus for this famous illusion, and since then I have worked on it still further, and now have what I consider to be the best trick in the world. By 1919 I had the first version ready for inclusion in my act.

For a description of this I can do no better than to quote a passage from a review by Mr. E. V. Lucas which appeared in Punch for March 11, 1925. After a description of my fishing trick, he went on:

But his most alarming illusion is "The Great Divide", where before your very eyes a lady is sawn in two. I have seen this trick before, done by another conjurer, but without any of the style and effect which The Great Horace Goldin, its inventor, brings to it. The lady is placed in a long insulated box, with her head and hands protruding from one end and her feet from the other. Two gentlemen from the audience, selected by ballot, attend, one all the time holding her hands and the other her feet. She is then sawn in two by a most diabolical double-handed saw, and the two halves of the box are moved apart so that the Great Horace Goldin may walk through--truly a most realistic moment! From the end of one half her feet still stick out, and from the end of the other her head and arms. The two halves of the box are then reunited and the lady rises whole and smiling, while the gentlemen return to their places with a new glamour on them.

Mr. Lucas there describes the first version of this illusion. I improved on this gradually; at one time, for example, I had a box with transparent sides, so that the audience could see the saw at work. At last I perfected the second version, which I am now using. No box is used. The audience sees the girl the whole of the time, and they watch the saw as it eats through her clothing and apparently through her.

As I have already said, it was not until 1919 that I had "A Woman Sawn in Half" ready for production. I had put in a great deal of hard work, and I had spent much money on the trick. I was confident that I had something which was going to be a sensation, and I patented it in England, America, Germany, and many other countries. I prepared for the biggest success of my career.

Then came a series of disappointments which I think must be unequalled in the history of the variety stage. For one reason and another I could not get a manager to look at it, and at one time I thought that the whole thing was going to be a flop.

I first suggested it to the well-known American managers, Shuberts, and they said they were interested. They instructed their carpenter to build it, and then, before it was completed, they lost faith in it and rejected the whole idea.

I took it to the late Mr. Burnside, principal producer at that time for the late Mr. Dillingham, and he also rejected it. I tried it in all the other likely places, and everywhere I met with the same answer. People told me that I was insane, that the trick could not be done; and when I assured them that I had tried it and it worked they looked at me as if they expected me to fall down dead for telling such lies.

At last, in sheer desperation, I had the illusion built myself, all complete, and it worked perfectly. That gave me confidence in the trick again, and I began to try to book it in various theatres. The same tale continued. No one was interested. My agent was enthusiastic, and swore that we had something which he could book for a year. He used to dance round the office in delight. But after all our disappointments he was broken-hearted and on the point of tears.

There was for a little time a spark of hope. I persuaded Mr. Lubin, who books for Loew's circuit, to play it in one of their theatres in Harlem, New York, for three days. There it made a sensation and was quite as wonderful an effect as I had expected. I then played for the same firm at the Metropolitan Theatre, Brooklyn, for three days. I was congratulating myself that we were well started, when Mr. Lubin informed my agent that he would not be able to use the illusion further, although he could have given us a contract for forty or fifty weeks. After that I could get no further bookings and put the illusion away in storage.

On June 3, 1921, the Society of American Magicians held their annual ball at the McAlpine Hotel, New York, and at the show which followed the Ball I was asked by Harry Houdini to present my new illusion, of which he had heard a glowing report.

Thinking of the dismal history of my trick, I hesitated for a time, but eventually I consented to show my professional audience my "Bloodless Surgery", as the trick was sometimes called.

There were four hundred guests, most of them expert illusionists, and it was very difficult to impress them. But my act was enthusiastically received, and everyone crowded round me to congratulate me afterwards. They all prophesied a great success for me, and as a result I began to grow more optimistic myself. Perhaps, after all, I was going to achieve the success of which I had dreamed.

The first version of "A Woman Sawn in Half" (1)

Two weeks later I was asked to appear at a benefit performance in New York, at the Columbia Theatre, on the corner of Forty-seventh Street and Broadway. This performance was the event of the year, where all the biggest and best-known stars of America appeared. Naturally the theatrical fraternity was well represented in the audience. The show went on until 1 a.m., for there were twenty-three acts on the programme. I remember that I was number nineteen." That was the turning-point of the greatest success in the whole history of conjuring. It was the only trick on the programme that night, and it scored a huge triumph. In a speech before I began I told the audience that I was presenting a scientific surgical problem. I was going to demonstrate "Bloodless Surgery". I asked two gentleman to come on the stage, and I said I should be specially glad if one of them were a doctor.

The first version of "A Woman Sawn in Half" (2)

Two volunteers came up. One was Dr. Suss and the other was Harry Seaman, of Hurtig and Seaman, then theatrical proprietors. I had been talking to the latter gentleman only the evening before about this very act. I had told him that I proposed to put it on for this performance, and he had told me to stop kidding him. Indeed, he had pooh-poohed the whole idea of the trick.

Miss Irene Vanderbilt, The first woman to be "sawn in half"

I asked the doctor to feel the young lady's pulse, which he did. After looking carefully at his watch he told me that the beat was quite normal. Then Mr. Seaman held the girl's feet, and I asked Dr. Suss to help me saw her in two, but he refused. I then asked him to hold her hands while my assistant and I sawed her in two. We parted the box and I walked through the middle, though the two gentlemen were still holding the two halves.

I asked the doctor to feel the pulse again. He said that the beat had altered.

"Naturally," I replied. "You can't expect the pulse to remain the same when the poor girl is in halves!"

The two halves of the box were then joined together, the lid opened, the wood at each end of the box removed, so that the girl's head, hands, and feet were released, and the girl was pulled up into the air, let down to the stage, and it was seen that she was quite whole. She walked off to the sound of thundering applause. The committee shook me warmly by the hand, and I knew that I had achieved the sensation of which I had dreamed.

I had to appear before the audience four or five times, and there were many shouts of "Speech". I attempted to comply, but as I began to speak I suddenly remembered the old adage "Silence is Golden", and so, on this particular occasion, "Silence was Goldin".

Before the show was over my dressing-room backstage was besieged by managers and agents all making offers for my new act. I accepted one offer which was made by a producer by the name of Arthur Berdini. This was on a royalty basis, and I was to receive an advance of 3,000 dollars. It was arranged that I call at his office the following morning to collect the money and to make the final arrangements.

just as I was approaching Mr. Berdini's office at eleven o'clock the next day I met the late Mr. H. B. Marinelli, one of the world's best-known agents. He said that the Keith people, who were then the biggest music-hall firm in the world, and who had given me my first big chance, were interested in my new trick, "A Woman Sawn in Half". I sent up a note of apology to Mr. Berdini and went to call on Mr. Lauder (son-in-law of the late Mr. E. E. Albee), the head of the Keith concern.

Mr. Lauder said that he liked my new act and he offered me a contract for twenty-one weeks at 800 dollars a week. This seemed to me very much more attractive than the other offer, so I went to Mr. Berdini and explained to him quite frankly what had happened. He was very sorry to hear that I was leaving him, but he was very fair about it all, and released me, as I had asked.

My first experiences with the act were not encouraging. Mr. Lauder had arranged for me to appear at the Palace Theatre, New York. I had no grumble to make over that booking, for the Palace Theatre was, and is, the best musichall in America. My position was at the end of the bill, and that did not please me. I had to follow a very strong programme. It was the week of July 18, and was so hot that I felt exhausted. The show ran late, and should have been over at 5.30, whereas actually I was not on the stage until five minutes to six. Another grumble of mine was that my billing matter was not impressive enough. It was, in fact, the smallest type on the bill.

In spite of these complaints I still believe that I could score a great triumph with my new illusion, and, knowing how much depended on the first experience, I rehearsed a very good opening speech.

Unfortunately my three-quarters of an hour's wait quite unnerved me. I walked on the stage before a crowded house and all I could say was, "Ladies and gentlemen." My mind then went completely blank, and I could not say anything of what I had rehearsed.

There was nothing for it but to confess to the audience, and this I did. I said that I had completely forgotten the announcement I had prepared and would proceed with the effect.

The reception given to the illusion was good. No one left his seat, which was unusual in the Palace Theatre, where usually only one-third of the audience stopped to see the whole of the last act. In fact it was a habit of the management to show slides and films asking the audience to remain for the last act, which was as good as any on the bill. I felt therefore that, even if I had not scored a triumph, I had done quite well in the face of many difficulties.

At that time I had not received from the head office the route I was to follow and did not even know where I should be playing the next week. On Tuesday I met my friend, the agent Marinelli, and he told me that there was something wrong. He did not know where the trouble lay, but he assured me that he would see me the next day with further news.

You will appreciate my feelings at this time. Here I had an illusion which I knew was one of the greatest ever invented. It was my masterpiece, and I knew that it was very good. I had had a whole lot of disappointments with it, and now, just when it seemed well launched, something had gone wrong, and it seemed likely that the whole illusion would have to go back into storage again.

The next day I found that my worst fears were justified. Marinelli reported that the "Coverers", whose business it is to report on new acts, did not report favourably on "A Woman Sawn in Half". That was why there was nothing doing.

This set-back in no way damped Marinelli's enthusiasm for the trick, and he assured me that he would make a fight of it for me. He said that he was just as sure as I was that the trick was a great thing for the theatre.

"Go and fight, by all means," I told him. "I am with you all the way. Make an appointment with Mr. Lauder for me for tomorrow at ten o'clock, and we'll see what we can do."

The next day at 10.5 we walked into Mr. Lauder's office, Marinelli and I, both ready for a good fight. Mr. Lauder would not say that he did not like the act. He merely said that it was not ready for a New York theatre yet, and he suggested that I should play three or four weeks elsewhere to break it in well. That did not please me at all. Obviously, if he intended running the show himself he would not advise me to go to the opposition. He was giving me poison in a very polite way.

"Look here, Mr. Lauder," I suggested. "I imagine that Satan would be just about the best magician we could think of. If we had him in the Palace Theatre he would pack the house, wouldn't he?"

"That is so, I guess," agreed Mr. Lauder.

"Would you close the bill with him?"

"No, I should bill him at the top."

"Well, here you have an act quite as good as any Satan could put on for you, and you don't know it."

I then asked Mr. Lauder to come and see the act for himself, that night, and this he said he would do. Marinelli and I had to be content with that.

As we were walking away together I had an idea. I sought out a friend of Mr. Lauder's and I let him into the secret and asked him to accompany the manager and watch him very carefully. This he did, and after the show he came back-stage and told me that Mr. Lauder had said that it was the greatest thing he had ever seen on the stage, and that he would play it in every one of their theatres, of which there were then more than fifty. Next day Marinelli and I called again on Mr. Lauder and he confirmed all we had heard from his friend. He touched a button and instructed a secretary: "Boston next week, the tour to follow." All our troubles were over for the time.

At Boston I had the biggest publicity any act ever experienced. In fact, I believe it was the biggest publicity any show has ever had. At my first performance at the Monday matinée the house was crammed, and I had a wonderful reception. I was not at the end of the bill then. After the show the late Mr. Lawson, then manager of the theatre, came to me with his hand outstretched, saying, "Horace, you're wonderful. I want you to play a second week."

Then he said something which upset me. "Do me a great favour," he said, "and close the show."

This was a blow, coming after my previous experience in New York. I pointed out to him that he had had a wire from Mr. Lauder saying that my position on the bill was to be three o'clock and nine o'clock, the best spots.

He agreed that that was so, but he said, "The other acts refuse to follow you. I am stuck unless you will close the show."

When he put it like that, naturally I could not refuse, and agreed to the change of position in the bill. It made no difference at all. Business continued to capacity at every performance, and everyone was delighted.

During that week I had the route of my tour, but I was informed that it might be changed from time to time. Should the journeys incur greater expense the management would pay the difference. Evidently they had learned at last that they had found a good thing. They certainly treated me very well.

The crowning success for my "A Woman Sawn in Half" act came in Washington. From Boston I moved to the Riverside Theatre, New York, and then I moved to Washington, and there the act was seen by ex-President Wilson and President Harding.

The way in which this act gripped the public imagination was wonderful indeed. One day a sharp reporter happened to hear a couple of negroes talking about it, and the next day his report appeared in the paper. It ran something like this:

"Is you done hear 'bout that white man what cuts a woman spang in two?" "Is dey another murder?" asked the second "boy". "Naw; dis heah white man is at a the-atah and he jes' natchally cuts a woman 'tirely th'u the body--right th'u, that's all. I done seen it." "Is dey any blood?" "Naw, dat's how come he can do it." "G'wan, niggah, if dey ain't no blood dey ain't no cutting. I knaws." "But I seen it," insisted number one. "De saw jes' natchally whines right th'u her middle an' she is in two; my eyes seen it." "Yoh eyes think they done seen it," retorted the sceptic, "but yoh eyes ain't done no such thing. My Lawd, niggah, nothin' can't be cut in two onless it bleeds, only a fishin' worm, an' you done see how the two ends rise up. Is, dis lady's ends done rise up?" "Naw, she done in a box wif her haid stickin' out an her feet stickin' out and de saw done cut her in de--" "Yas, I could done cut you in de middle an' you'd be in a box, too. But you wouldn't be clean, niggah, you wouldn't be clean; dey'd haf to mop up aftah you, sure dey would." "But I done seen--" "Yas, you done seen yo'self in de Pres-i-dent's chair, an' you done seen yo'self with a pocket full o' money, an' mebbe you done see yo'self workin' at a good job all de time, but dem's miracles; dem's miracles, too, if dey happen, an' cuttin' dis woman in two, ef dey ain't no blood, ain't no miracle. It's jes' a blame' lie."

This gives some idea of the public interest aroused by this remarkable trick. Everyone was talking about it, from the President to the negro in the street. I conceived the idea of having extraordinary publicity, and a booklet was compiled by an expert, Pat Garyn. Every manager received a copy and followed it up carefully. The result was marvellous, and the Keith company called for six more companies. I obtained the services of six of the best men I could find in America, amongst them Harry Jensen, now touring as Dante, and these started touring with the trick. One of these men was an actor inexperienced in the art of conjuring, but reports received at head office said that he was the best presenter of the six extra companies.

These performances ran simultaneously, and each company played for from thirty to thirty-five weeks. They returned to each town about every four weeks. The results were wonderful; I have been told by one of the heads of the Keith business that this attraction brought to them a profit of well over a million dollars.

This is the act which received such unsatisfactory reports at first. Mr. Lauder must have been very thankful that I persuaded him that I had a "Satan act". I certainly was.