WAS JOHN NEVIL MASKELYNE A GENIUS?

WAS John Nevil Maskelyne a genius? Yes--but not a magical genius. How then, you might ask, did he make his name famous throughout the world as England's greatest magician?

It was showmanship, that indefinable quality without which the cleverest performance will be a failure, and which has turned many a mediocre production into a startling success. John Nevil Maskelyne was a showman to his finger tips.

He was not, strictly speaking, a conjurer. Although his manipulation of the spinning bowls was extremely expert, he specialised mainly in mechanical illusions, and it was on these effects that he built up his great reputation. He understood the great power of the Press, and, like Houdini in later years, he did anything to bring his name before the public.

He invented a great number of clever illusions, and was skilled in most matters appertaining to machinery. This is not to be wondered at, for he first went into business as a clockmaker at Cheltenham. In those early days, his greatest friend was Cooke, a tailor's apprentice, and both of them studied magic as a spare-time hobby.

It was a pure accident which led, these two young men to consider the possibilities of becoming professional magicians, for, although they were both keen amateurs, neither considered himself sufficiently expert to earn a living by the art.

At that time the celebrated Davenport Brothers were at the height of their fame, and their visit to Cheltenham excited much interest. They were then performing their celebrated "spirit séance," which many people believed was a genuine exhibition of psychic phenomena.

Both the performers were bound to chairs, their wrists were tied, and their hands filled with flour. They were put inside a cabinet, and between them was placed a stool on which stood a glass of water, a number of musical instruments, a board, a hammer, and some nails. The lights of the theatre were extinguished, thus plunging the stage into darkness.

Less than a minute afterwards, a distinct sound of hammering was heard to come from the cabinet. The musical instruments were played in expert fashion, and then silence reigned again. When the lights were turned up, it was found that the nails had been driven into the board, the musical instruments had been disturbed, and the water in the glass had vanished. The performers had apparently not moved, for their wrists were still tied, and the flour in their hands was not spilled. But their coats had been turned inside out.

Maskelyne had no idea how the trick was done, but a faint ray of light thrown on to the stage from an uncurtained window gave him the secret. The Davenports had ordered that the window should be covered, but half way through the "séance" the curtain slipped down unnoticed. This unforeseen accident permitted Maskelyne to watch the Davenports' movements. He saw them slip their ropes, carefully place the flour in their pockets, and remove their coats. They played on the instruments, hammered the nails to the board, drank the water, and put their coats on inside out. When the "séance" was completed, they took the flour again from their pockets, and replaced their hands into the sliding loops of the ropes. This insight into the working of a professional illusion set Maskelyne thinking.

Shortly afterwards he decided to become a professional magician, and Cooke agreed to become his partner. The latter played only an assistant's part on the stage, but he had charge of all the costumes and sceneries in the act. This was in 1865, but it was not until eight years afterwards that they accumulated sufficient capital to enable them to take a lease of the St. James' Hall, London.

In those eight years in the provinces, Maskelyne had learnt much. He was as yet an unknown name in England, but was beginning to develop those gifts for shwmanship which were later to make him world-famous. His idea was to run for two or three months in London, and then return to the provinces as "Maskelyne--The Great London Magician." But he and Cooke made so much money from their short stay at the St. James' Hall, that he decided to take a long lease of the Egyptian Hall, Piccadilly.

In this he showed extreme cleverness, for the latter theatre was ideally suited for a magical entertainment. It had a quaint, mystic atmosphere which I have never encountered elsewhere, and by calling it "England's Home of Mystery," Maskelyne did much to heighten this strange effect.

Maskelyne made his name, not so much by his own perfomances, as by those of the great conjurers whom he engaged to assist him at the Egyptian Hall. Such men as Devant, Paul Valadon, De Kolta, and Charles Morritt did more to build up the reputation of the theatre than either of the two proprietors. For Maskelyne, it must be said he had a friendly and intimate manner of putting over his illusions, a fatherly style which appealed immensely to his old fashioned audiences.

His most famous trick was the celebrated box escape, and he offered £500 to the man who could discover the secret. Two magical mechanics claimed to have done so, but Maskelyne refused to pay the money. A court case ensued which was finally taken to the House of Lords. Maskelyne would not disclose his secret, and was forced to pay. The case aroused enormous interest, and Maskelyne knew that the publicity he received was worth far more than the money he had been forced to part with. I believe this box was destroyed on Maskelyne's death.

The libel case which Archdeacon Colley brought against Maskelyne will still be remembered by many. The Archdeacon stated that he had attended a spiritualistic séance in which he had seen the form of a woman materialised from a man's side. Although he secretly had a great respect for spiritualism, Maskelyne publicly derided it, thereby gaining a wonderful free advertisement. On this occasion, he stated he could produce by mechanical means the effect seen by Archdeacon Colley, and added a few words which were a gross libel on the famous prelate. And, although Maskelyne again lost his case, he gained an enormous amount of publicity from the Press.

Curiously enough, all Maskelyne's business ventures outside magic were complete failures. On the occasion of Queen Victoria's jubilee procession, he undertook to erect a certain number of stands. It so happened that the procession did not take the route he anticipated, and he lost every farthing he had put into the venture.

In 1905, the lease of the Egyptian Hall expired, and Maskelyne moved to the present headquarters of the family, St. George's Hall. He opened with a play called "The Race," which was a disastrous failure. He was not in the least disheartened, and, by returning to his illusions, soon attracted the same crowded houses he had drawn at the Egyptian Hall. On the death of Cooke, he went into partnership with David Devant. This proved even more successful than the first combination.

John Nevil Maskelyne died in 1917, and his son Nevil has since joined him on the other side. Devant has gone into a honourable and well earned retirement, but Jasper and Mary Maskelyne, grandchildren of John Nevil, are still carrying on the family traditions at St. George's Hall. The name of Maskelyne will be known and honoured as long as magic exists.