AN ELECTRICAL DUEL.
In the duel scene in “Faust,” a striking effect was obtained a few years ago at the Metropolitan Opera House. It will be remembered that the soldier Valentine, brother of Marguerite, fights with Faust. As Faust is unfamiliar with the use of the sword, the devil, in the guise of Mephistopheles, stands by, sword in hand, ready to aid him, interposing his weapon when Valentine presses the student too closely. In former productions of the opera there was nothing apparent to indicate the possession of supernatural powers by Mephistopheles. The duel takes place at a part of the stage where two plates of copper are sunk into the flooring. These plates are connected with the electric current. Copper nails are driven into one shoe of Valentine and one shoe of Faust, and the wires run up their bodies to the swords. When they draw their swords they insert the wire into the hilts by means of a plug; they are then connected with the copper plate. Every time that Mephistopheles interposes the sword and strikes up the contending weapons, which are in contact, the sparks fly furiously and the weird crackling sounds are heard as in lightning. When Valentine receives his death wound, he throws out the plug connecting his sword with the electric current, and as he falls the sword flies from his hand, and there is nothing to show the presence of any electrical connection.
THE SKIRT DANCE.
The famous skirt dance may be defined as peculiar in the sense that it is not a dance as generally understood in stage parlance. The performer, standing on the stage and dressed in voluminous attire, requiring, it is said, over a hundred yards of material, by slow motions, comprising more arm movements than foot movements, causes the light drapery to wave about in most graceful curves. The variety of shapes and contours that can be produced by a skilled performer is endless. To add to the effect, wands are used to extend the reach in the direction of the lines of the arms, and the greater control thus obtainable adds immensely to the effect. This dance was made famous by Miss Loie Fuller, whose reputation is now world-wide.
Our illustration which forms the frontispiece of the present work is designed to show the methods adopted to produce the wonderfully beautiful effects which have characterized the dance. The performance is executed in a darkened theater. A number of projectors are distributed, four in the wings and one below the stage, so as to be adapted for flooding the figure of the danseuse with light. A pane of heavy plate glass set in the floor of the stage permits the projector beneath it to produce its effects. Each projector has mounted in front of it a disc about three feet in diameter, perforated near its periphery with a number of apertures. Colored gelatine is fastened over most of these apertures, a different color being used for each opening, except where one may be left for white light. The operators at the projectors follow the movements of the performer, and can produce an almost infinitely extended range of effects by varying the colors thrown by each projector.
The theater being pitch dark, the dancer can be brought slowly into view and can be made to slowly disappear by manipulation of the projectors. She can appear in any color or combination of colors. It is needless to say that it is a composite performance in the sense that the dancer fills only a part of the functions; skilled operators are absolutely essential at the projectors.
One of the prettiest effects is produced by a magic lantern operated from the front of the stage and shown on the left hand in the cut. The operator projects upon the drapery different figures and designs, using regular lantern slides, making the flowing, misty drapery act as the screen for his projections. It is obvious that he must give great attention to his focusing.
The skirt dance has won the attention of artists, and some very beautiful statues have been based upon its cloudlike variations of form. The slight idealization required in representing the soft forms of waving drapery in the solid material of the sculptor’s art has given most graceful and characteristic effects.
One of the most startling effects is the flame dance. The filmy veil is pure white, but as the dancer approaches the opening in the stage floor the veil turns to a fiery red, and the flames wave to and fro as if they were being blown by the wind. Shadows are then thrown on the veil and produce an exact reproduction of heavy black smoke, which suddenly changes to an ardent flame again, as if the fire had broken out anew.
CHAPTER V.
THE NAUTICAL ARENA.
The nautical arena, or aquatic theater, was a few years ago one of the sensations of London and Paris. Spectacular entertainments in which water played a prominent part go back to the time of the Romans, when portions of the arena of the amphitheater, or sometimes the entire arena, were flooded, and mimic sea fights took place in galleys carrying gladiators who fought to the death. The Paris aquatic theater is a very handsome building. It is situated in the Rue St. Honoré, and is called the “Arène Nautique.” It is intended to fill two distinct rôles; first, it is a circus for equestrian, gymnastic, and aquatic performances, while during the summer it becomes a huge swimming bath. The building was originally used for a cyclorama, but was entirely remodeled when put to its new use. The circular hall is one hundred and ten feet in diameter. In the lower part of this hall is a circular tank seventy-nine feet in diameter, with a gallery running around it. Over this gallery and the water are constructed tiers of seats, as shown in our engraving. In the center is placed a powerful hydraulic cylinder. To the top of the piston rod is affixed a large iron plate forty-four feet in diameter. This plate can be sunk below the level of the water, the tank then being available for aquatic performances. It is the work of a moment to raise the plate. A firm floor is then provided for horses and men.
This arrangement permits of the water being maintained at such a height as to provide a shallow tank for those who cannot swim. The rise of the piston is caused by a compound pump, and the plate is guided in its movement by guide bars fixed vertically around the outer rail. A catch is provided to secure the plate in position. When it has attained a little more than its proper height, it is caused to rotate slightly on its vertical axis by an endless screw. By this means the ends of the radial girders are brought over twenty shoes fixed to the twenty columns; by letting a little of the water escape, the radial girders settle themselves firmly down upon the shoes. The weight of the whole mass is about twenty-five tons. When the arena is to be used for performances in the ring the plate is covered with a mat of esparto weighing about one thousand pounds. It is brought in on two iron trucks. Our engraving represents the removal of the mat before sinking the stage.
CHAPTER VI.
A TRIP TO THE MOON.
This is the title of an illustrated lecture which has been very popular in Berlin, and which was also produced in New York a few years ago. The lecture as used in the United States, was rewritten by Mr. Garrett P. Serviss. The first scene is the reproduction of a solar eclipse as seen from the shores of one of the small lakes called Havel, near Berlin, on the morning of August 19, 1887.
On this morning the sun arose with the greater portion of its disc obscured by the moon. As the sun ascended, the crescent diminished, and at the moment of totality a wonderful corona flashed into view. The scene gives the audience an idea of what the astronomers mean when they attempt to describe this wonderful phenomena. The moon passes slowly before the sun until the earth is fully illuminated and the sky and landscape assume a normal appearance. Interesting as these imitations of celestial and terrestrial phenomena are, the manner in which they are effected is still more so, and our engravings give a peep behind the scenes and explain the means by which the illusion is produced. The trees and foreground are set in front of a transparent scene upon the back of which the opaque parts are silhouetted in black, leaving the sky and water translucent.
| THE PRODUCTION OF THE SOLAR ECLIPSE. | |
Two optical lanterns are provided, one of which carries the crescent and the other the corona slide. They are mounted upon a box movable along the inclined side of a triangular frame by a drum and cord, and are thus enabled to imitate the appearance and course of the heavenly bodies. The screen immediately below the horizon intercepts the image of the luminary below that line.
The waves that play upon the surface of the lake are produced by a slide in a third lantern. This slide consists of glass screens upon which waves are painted. These screens are actuated by three eccentrically mounted rods set in motion by clockwork. The interference with these waves permits ribbons of light, of constantly varying position and width, to fall upon the screen and to give the effect of water ruffled by a breeze. The play of color and intensity of light produced by the revolutions of the earth and its passage through the penumbra and umbra of the moon’s shadow, and the development of full sunlight, are perfectly coördinated to the changing condition of their source, the sun. This part of the illusion is effected by the management of the foot and border lights.
These lights are red, white, and blue incandescent electric lamps arranged in series, and controlled by a rheostat, permitting every possible combination and intensity of tint, and to the intelligent manipulation of which is due much of the success of the scene. Our interest is intensified by a view from a distance of five thousand miles, showing the lunar mountains and other prominent features. The plaster image of the moon, viewed through a circular piece of gauze set in a black drop, is ten feet in diameter. The change of phase is produced from the light thrown from the lanterns, as shown in the illustration.
The splendid scenes of Mt. Aristarchus and Cape Laplace are splendid pictures and are shown from the height of two and one half miles. By trigonometric mensuration of the shadows, and application of their values by perspective, the artist is enabled to represent the general features of the landscape with fidelity. These scenes are lighted from behind by four arc lights, by bunch lights and footlights, and the combined candle power is eight thousand five hundred candles. This brings out the contrast of the landscape in this dead world. From the moon surface, the earth always seems to occupy the same place, and reflects to the moon a part of the light received from the sun. The phenomena of earthlight and sunlight upon the moon are given by transparent places in the scene representing sky, and lit up by a lantern. The mountain on either side has each a lantern, whose light is permitted to fall on the drop by gradually lowering the screen. A modified arc light illuminates the front of the scene and gives the earth light.
| BACK OF THE EARTH WITH GELATINE ATMOSPHERE. | THE SUN BOX INTERIOR AND THE BOX RISING. |
| SOLAR ECLIPSE AS VIEWED FROM THE MOON. | |
Probably the most unique of the cosmic phenomena is a solar eclipse viewed from the moon. The earth is an opaque disc with a red gelatine band attached to its circumference with white muslin, and suspended by two hooks set in a shelf extending across its back. A coat of phosphorescent paint gives the glow. The sun consists of a box with a cover of gelatine on which the sun is painted; a semicircular wooden arm incloses a reflector and supports six incandescent lamps set inwardly. The box hooks into a piece of leather with a circular aperture coincident with the sun’s face, and sewed into the drop. Holes in the drop allow the light from an arc light to imitate the stars. The surface of the moon is painted on canvas supported on hinged props having spread feet. A stiff rod joins the hinges and forms the horizon. A footlight is placed within this tent-like cover to illuminate it. The drop curtain carrying the sun box is raised by a windlass, and as the sun rises, accompanied by the stars, the footlight is turned up. In passing behind the earth, the sun imparts a crimson view to the earth’s atmosphere, which the footlight transfers to the moon until the extinction of the solar disk. The return to earth is marked by a view of that part of the earth surface most resembling the moon’s, the Tyrolean highlands. The afterglow of sunset, moonrise, and a lunar eclipse are depicted with great accuracy. The gradual movement of a deep red gelatine film across the lantern-slide holder causes the moon to appear to enter and emerge from the earth’s shadow. A sunset on the Indian Ocean and moonrise on the first scene concludes the lecture. A series of stereopticon views of great beauty are interspersed between the mounted scenes, thus furnishing a continuous performance.
CHAPTER VII.
CYCLORAMAS.
The origin of the cyclorama is traced to the use of scenery by the Italians two or three hundred years ago. They arranged outside of their windows scenes painted on canvas that simulated extensive gardens. Robert Fulton is said to have exhibited a panorama in Paris at the beginning of the present century. It was not, however, a cylindrical painting, as is used in the cyclorama, and the effect was not as illusive. Cycloramas have been on exhibition in many cities of the United States, and they are also very popular abroad.
The cyclorama which we illustrate is the “Battle of Gettysburg,” which has been shown in New York, Brooklyn, and other cities of the United States. It was painted by M. Paul Philippoteaux.
The “Battle of Gettysburg” covers an immense sheet of canvas four hundred feet long and fifty feet high. The canvas was imported from Belgium, none being manufactured in the United States which would answer the purpose; it is nine yards wide, and the seams run up and down. The immense canvas is supported from the sides of the building so as to form a cylinder. The building is circular, and a cornice is provided which runs entirely around the building; the upper edge of the canvas is nailed to this cornice. The cloth is first rolled smoothly on an iron roller surfaced with wood, fifty feet long. The roller is held vertically in heavy framework which runs on tracks around the building. From the roller thus carried around, the cloth is gradually paid out, as shown in our engraving. As fast as it comes off the roller it is seized and held by pincers while the edge is being tacked to the cornice. The lower edge is secured to a circle of gas pipes which run entirely around the building. As the pipe would not give sufficient weight to stretch the canvas, a twenty-five-pound weight is hung at every third foot.
The effect of the stretching is that the canvas loses the true cylindrical shape; its sides are no longer parallel, but curve slightly inward, about one foot in amount, at the center. Thus, at the horizon line, the most distant part of the scene, the painting is about a foot nearer the vertical line than in the foreground. In absolute distance from the eye the difference is still greater. Owing to obliquity of the line of sight, the foreground, which seems so near at hand, is really much further off than the horizon.
In a cyclorama of this kind it is necessary to have the scene portrayed with the utmost fidelity. The result is that the landscape is really an artistic transcript of photographic views of the field. The artist first went to the scene of the great battle of Gettysburg, and selected one point of view, and caused a small stage to be erected at this point, which was of the same height as that upon which the people were to stand in the completed cyclorama. Around the stage a line of pickets was driven in a circle, as shown at the point B. The distance was measured from the top of the stage as a center. From the top of the scaffold three series of ten photographs each were taken, the instrument being sighted by means of the posts. This series of photographs showed the entire field; one series being taken for the foreground, while the other two, by their focusing and exposure, were devoted to the middle distance and background. Each view was divided into squares, as shown in our illustration; the canvas was marked off by corresponding divisions, and the photographs were copied square by square; the blending of the ten views and the aërial perspective was, of course, the critical part of the performance. The painting was done from a scaffold which traveled around on the same tracks which carried the roller frame, as shown in our illustration.
The painting was done in oil, tinsel being occasionally employed. After the circular wall was covered, the foreground next claimed the attention of the painter and his assistants. A wooden platform was built which extended all around the platform upon which the visitors stood, and earth and sod covered these boards. Fences, tufts of grass, wheat, etc., lent their aid to fill up the scene. The continuation of the road was met almost perfectly on the canvas; in fact, it was almost impossible to see the line of demarcation between the real and the painted foreground. We give an interesting engraving of this method of constructing a realistic scene.
Two men are seen carrying a litter. The more distant soldier is painted on the canvas; the litter is real, two of its handles passing through holes in the canvas. The figure resting on the litter and the nearer bearer are cut out of boards and painted. Other scenes are similarly painted.
The spectators occupy an elevated stage which they mount by means of staircases running under the scaffolding of the foreground. Once upon the platform the spectators lose all idea of orientation, and cannot tell the points of the compass or have any conception of the size of the building. Over the stage a circular screen is suspended so that it shades it from the light which enters from the skylight. The sky is thus lighted up, and a peculiar luminous effect favoring the aërial perspective results. At night a number of electric lights, suspended out of sight of the spectators, give about the same effect. Many of the details of the picture were obtained from eye-witnesses of the battle; the uniforms, the modes of carrying the blankets, and the details of harness, and the minor parts of the scenery were studied carefully. Everything in the building combines to make a wonderful illusion.
THE ELECTRIC CYCLORAMA.
Notwithstanding the fact that cycloramas of the pattern we have just described were the result of the most careful blending of science and art, still their popularity seems to have been limited, and the cyclorama has been, in numerous cases, obliged to bow to the taste of the day. One has been converted into a circus, others into skating rinks and bicycle academies. The cyclorama we are about to describe ought to be able to bring panorama once more into fashion. The idea of Mr. Chase, a resident of Chicago, was to turn to account the most recent discoveries in the way of panorama photography, projection apparatus, electric lighting, and the systems which permit of faithfully representing the phenomena of motion. The possibility of causing a considerable number of views to pass before the spectator in a limited amount of time, of imparting life to them, gives the cyclorama an animation and diversity which is lacking in the ordinary panorama.
An ordinary panorama building is used; spectators stand upon the floor of a cylindrical chamber one hundred feet in diameter and thirty feet in height. Upon the walls are thrown photographs placed in a projecting apparatus suspended from the center of the scenery, after the manner of a chandelier.
Our first engraving gives a general view of the panorama as used at the “Chicago Fire” cyclorama. Our second engraving shows the projection apparatus, and our third where a battery of lanterns are used, showing the lantern carriages. Nothing more is required to convert an ordinary cyclorama into an electric cyclorama than to paint the back canvas white and to suspend the platform in the center of the building.
The apparatus is secured in the center of the panorama or cyclorama building by a steel tube and guys of steel wire. The operator stands in the center, upon a circular platform, and is surrounded by an annular table supporting eight carriages, upon which are mounted the lanterns, cinematographs, kinetoscopes, and all arrangements required for imparting life to the scene and producing the transformation. Each lantern is provided with an arc light, and the wires to furnish the current pass through the suspension tube. The annular table carries the rheostats by which the light is regulated, according to the effects to be produced with iris diaphragms, which permit of obtaining vanishing effects and night, sunrise, or sunset effects. The projecting lanterns, eight in number, are double, one being ranged over the other, thus permitting of the preparation of a view, and focusing it, while the spectators are looking at another. The change of pictures is not effected until everything is in order. The carriages which support the lanterns permit of accurately adjusting views so that the registry is perfect. The eight positive slides produce a panorama three hundred feet in circumference and over thirty feet high. The rays which emanate from each of the projecting lanterns are such that they would overlap did not a frame fixed to the lenses, and carefully regulated, suppress those parts of the views which would encroach upon one another. When the lanterns are properly arranged it is possible to project moving pictures upon any part of the canvas screen.
CHAPTER VIII.
FIREWORKS WITH DRAMATIC ACCESSORIES.
The love of show and the spectacular is inherent in human nature. Games and entertainments on a colossal scale have always appealed to the popular taste. An important factor in such spectacles is the display of fireworks, in the love for which the Americans can sympathize with the Orientals. As far back as 1879, Mr. James Pain of London gave spectacular productions at Manhattan Beach, one of New York’s most popular resorts, and since that time their popularity has been increased, so that now entertainments of this class are given in comparatively small cities. It is perhaps more proper to speak of these entertainments as fireworks with dramatic accessories than to call them dramas with fireworks, for the raison d’être of the entire performance depends not upon the loosely hung together plot, but on the gigantic display of fireworks, which is accompanied by enough of realistic stage setting and dramatic performance to give a good excuse for the performance. Strange as it may seem, these mammoth plays, as regards the scenery, are as interchangeable as those in any theater, the grounds in which the scenery is installed being of the same general dimensions in all cases. This, of course, greatly simplifies a change of performance. The company which has been prominently identified with these spectacles sometimes has as many as seven in use at one time. They move about from place to place, so that in the course of a season thirty or forty cities are visited, the stay varying from a week to a whole season. The performance is held in the open air, at either some popular resort or in some place where the grounds are readily accessible.
An amphitheater is provided for the spectators in a rectangular enclosure which may seat as many as ten thousand persons. The seats slope away until the water is reached; here will be found an artificial lake, usually three hundred and eighteen feet long and one hundred and fifty feet wide, and the width of the entire stage being three hundred and fifty feet. Behind the pond is a stage mounted with set scenes. Of course, owing to the distance and darkness, the refinements of acting would be entirely wasted. The management, therefore, depends almost entirely on the spectacular, the cast including companies of clever gymnasts and acrobats.
The performance is so arranged as to lead up to some stirring catastrophe. The climax is generally awful cataclysm, or some blood-curdling war scene, or a conflagration.
We select for the purpose of illustration one of the most successful of these spectacles, the “Burning of Moscow” at the time of the French invasion. The scene is a true representation of the docks and quays of the ancient Russian capital. At each side appear arched stone bridges, and the whole is surrounded by strong fortifications; sentinels walk back and forth upon the walls of the Kremlin. The action of the drama is but brief, and after a gymnastic exhibition of marching and countermarching by the actors, the band plays the solemn strains of the Russian national hymn, while priests of the Greek Church render classical music of a somber character, which has a striking effect. The army of Napoleon now approaches, shells begin to fly over the doomed city, and, as the bearskins of the French grenadiers appear at the entrances at either side, the terrorized Russians rapidly disappear.
The prisoners in the jails are liberated, and with torches prepare to light the fires. The conflagration now begins, and the pyrotechnic display becomes splendid. The roar of the flames is heard, and, amid explosions, the buildings seem to be licked up by the fire, and collapse, leaving charred remains. The air is full of burning serpents, and the water is alive with incandescent figures. The grand finale is an aërial burst of rockets, as shown in our engraving.
Having seen one of these spectacles the reader will ask how the remarkable effects are obtained. Our illustrations show the scenery as viewed from the rear of the stage. The scenery is hinged and braced, some parts turning on pivots, and all arranged so as to be quickly thrown down into such semblance of ruin as shall best carry out the idea the piece is intended to represent. It is, however, only the work of a few hours to rehabilitate the entire scenery for use the next night.
In the performance which we have described, some of the best effects of the art of pyrotechnics are shown in the brilliancy and sustaining power of the various lights and colors given out by the rockets, wheels, stars, Roman candles, gold and silver rain, etc. Of course, vast quantities of colored fire are also required to light the scene.
Our last engraving shows how some of the firework effects are obtained. The grand aërial bouquet of rockets consists of a battery of rockets which are discharged simultaneously from the stand, as shown in the engraving. Our other engravings show water serpents, water dolphins, and the floating fire fountains. As they float around in the water, they produce fine effects.
BOOK IV.
AUTOMATA AND CURIOUS TOYS.
CHAPTER I.
AUTOMATA.
The present division of the work deals with interesting automata, curious toys, and miscellaneous tricks of an amusing nature. A very large number of devices and tricks of this kind have been published in the “Scientific American” and the “Scientific American Supplement,” and the ones which we select are among those which have been considered as the best. The subject of curious toys and science in toys is very fully treated in the excellent work of Mr. George M. Hopkins, entitled “Experimental Science,” which is published by the publishers of the present work.
AUTOMATON CHESS PLAYERS.
For a very long time the automaton chess player, or “Psycho,” has been celebrated as the automaton, and quite a literature is centered about it. We present two forms of the “Psycho,” one of which depends upon compressed air, and the other upon a small individual who is secreted in the cabinet. We will first describe the one which operates by compressed air.
Let us explain to those who have not seen “Psycho” that it consists of a small figure, dressed as a Turk, sitting cross-legged (as shown by dotted lines) on a chest; this chest is in turn supported on a glass tube, about twelve inches diameter and three feet long, which rests on a four-legged stool. The bottom of chest and top of stool are covered with green cloth so as to make a tolerably air-tight joint. The right arm is extended as in the drawing, and a semicircular rack, in which are placed the thirteen cards dealt to “Psycho,” is fixed by means of a bracket (not shown) in such a position that the edges come between the finger and thumb. The arm turning horizontally on the pivot, A, the hand can be brought over any part, and by closing the finger and thumb and raising the arm, the card will be withdrawn from the pack and held in the air.
In Figs. 1a and 1b (elevation and plan), the wheels E and M have each a train of clockwork (left out for the sake of clearness) which would cause them to spin round if unchecked. M, however, has two pins, p p′, which catch on a projection on the lever, N. E′ is a crown-wheel escapement—like that in a bottle roasting-jack—which turns A alternately to the left and right, thus causing the hand to traverse the thirteen cards. A little higher on A will be seen a quadrant, B (see plan), near the edge of which are set thirteen little pins. The end of the lever, N, drops between any two of them, thus causing the hand to stop at any desired card. The lever being pivoted at c, it is obvious that, by depressing the end, N, B will be set at liberty, and the hand will move along the cards; by slightly raising it this motion will be arrested; by raising it still more the pin, p, is released, and M begins to revolve; and by again depressing N this wheel will, in its turn, be stopped. Near the bottom of the apparatus is a bellows, O, which contains a spring tending to keep the lever, N, with which it is connected by a rod, N, in the position shown. This is connected with the tubular support, which may be connected by a tube through the leg of the stool, and another tube beneath the stage, with an assistant behind the scenes. By compressing or exhausting air through this tube it is obvious that the lever, N, will be raised or depressed, and the clockwork set going accordingly; a is a crankpin set in M, and connected with the head by catgut, T, and with the thumb by S.
At R and R′ are two pulleys connected by gut. Thus, if the hand moves round, the head appears to follow its motions, and when raised by pulling S, the head also rises, by means of T. Further explanation seems almost unnecessary; l is a stop to prevent the elbow moving too far, and b b, spiral springs to keep thumb open and head forward respectively. When N is raised, M pulls T and S, the latter closing thumb, and then raising arm by pulley, H. If the lever is allowed to drop, p′ will catch and keep arm up. On again raising N, the arm will descend.
Figs. 2a and 2b show another and simpler arrangement, in which only one train of clockwork is used. On the same axle as H is fixed a lever and weight, W, to balance the arm. A vertical rod, X, having a projection, Z, slides up and down in guides, Y Y, and carries the catgut, S and T. The quadrant, B′, has cogs cut, between which Z slides, and stops the motion of A, which is moved, as before, by clockwork. The lower part of X is connected direct with O. When X is slightly raised, as shown, A is free to move; but on exhausting air and drawing X down, Z enters the cogs and stops the hand over a card; continuing to exhaust, the thumb closes and the card is lifted up. The details of the clockwork we leave to the ingenuity of the reader. There should be a fan on each train to regulate the speed. The figure should be so placed that the assistant can see the cards in the semicircular rack.
THE AUTOMATON CHESS PLAYER.
The newspapers announced some time ago that the police of Bordeaux had forbidden the exhibition of the automaton Az Rah, one of the attractions of the Exhibition Theater, because it had been discovered that the manikin was set in motion, not by mechanical arrangements, but by a youth of eighteen years, inclosed within a cavity behind the wheelwork, and whose health was gravely compromised by this daily torture.
This automaton recalls the famous Turkish chess player that was constructed in Hungary by Baron Kempelen in 1769, and exhibited in Germany, Russia, France, England, and America, without the public succeeding in ascertaining its mechanism. In 1819 and 1820 a man named Melzer showed it anew in England. Robert-Houdin saw it in 1844 at the house of a mechanician of Belleville, named Cronior. Since then its fate has been unknown, and it is very probable the Az Rah of Bordeaux is nothing else than the Turk of Vienna. Our readers who have seen it at the Exhibition will be enabled to decide the question after reading the description that we shall give. Baron Kempelen, a Hungarian nobleman and an Aulic Councilor of the Royal Chamber of the Domains of Hungary, being at Vienna, was called to the court to be present at a séance of magnetism that a Frenchman named Pelletier was to hold before the empress. Kempelen was known as an ingenious amateur of mechanics, and the persons present having asked his opinion in regard to the experiments which he had witnessed, he said that he believed he could make a machine that would be much more astonishing than anything that he had just seen. The empress took him at his word and expressed a desire that he should begin the work. M. De Kempelen returned to Presbourg, in his own country, and in six months produced an automaton which played a game of chess against any one who offered himself, and nearly always won it.
This automaton was a human figure of natural size, which was dressed in the Turkish style, seated on a chair, and placed behind a wooden chest on which was laid the chessboard. He took the pieces up with his hand in order to play them, turned his head to the right and left in order to see them better, and nodded his head three times when he checkmated the king, and twice on attacking the queen. If his adversary made a mistake, he shook his head, removed the wrongly-played piece, deposited it outside of the chessboard, and played his own. The showman, who stood near the automaton, wound up the mechanism after every ten or twelve moves, and occasionally replaced certain wheels; and at every motion of the Turk were heard noises of moving wheelwork. To show that there was nothing within but mechanism, doors were opened in the chest and body. There was also a magnet lying on the table to make believe that magnetism, then in great vogue, and as yet full of mystery, played a preponderating rôle in the affair. M. De Kempelen was accustomed to say: “The machine is very simple, and the mechanism appears wonderful only because all has been combined with great patience in order to produce the illusion.”
Many hypotheses were put forth on the subject, and two books, one published in 1785, and the other in 1789, were devoted to a discussion of them. Those that appeared to be most likely were, on the one hand, that the Turk’s body contained an extraordinarily small dwarf; and, on the other, that the showman acted upon the automaton from a distance by the aid of magnetic influences. These two explanations gave a very imperfect account of the facts, and it was not until some years ago that the trick was unveiled in an anonymous book.
The following is an exact description of the apparatus and the successive operations performed by the exhibitor:
The chest was three and one-half feet long, two feet wide, and two and one-half feet high, and was provided with doors and drawers whose use will presently be seen. The front part of the chair seat was affixed to the chest, and the back part rested on the floor by two legs which, as well as the four legs of the chest, were provided with casters. The right hand of the manikin was movable on the upper part of the chest that formed a table, and, at the beginning of operations, held a pipe, which was afterward removed, and it rested upon a cushion lying in a certain definite position. The chessboard in front of the player was eighteen inches square. The exhibitor, provided with a light, begins by allowing the interior of the apparatus to be examined by the spectators. He opens the door A (Fig. 1), and allows to be seen a series of gearings that occupy the whole width of the chest. Then he passes behind and opens the door B (Figs. 2 and 8), opposite the door A, and introduces a light into the interior to show that it is empty. The spectators standing on the other side can, in fact, see the light shine through the different pieces of mechanism through the door, A, that remains open. He afterward locks the door B, and comes in front of the chest and opens the drawer G, from which he removes the chessmen, and a cushion which he slides under the left arm of the automaton. This drawer seems to serve no other purpose than the preservation of these objects. He then opens the two doors, C C, in front of the chest, and shows a large closet lined at the sides with dark drapery, and containing two boxes, L and M, of unequal size, and a few belts and pulleys that seem to be designed for putting in motion the mechanism contained in the boxes. Passing behind again, he opens the door D, and introduces a light into the interior of the chest to show that it has not a false bottom. Then he closes this door again, and also the doors A and C, by means of the same key. Next he turns the apparatus around so as to show the public the other side (shown in Fig. 2), and raises the clothing of the Turk, and opens the apertures, E and F, in the back and thigh, to show that no one is hidden within. These doors remain constantly open afterward. Finally the showman turns the Turk back to his former position, facing the spectator, removes the cushion and pipe, and then the game may begin.
We shall explain as clearly as possible how the game was directed by a man who succeeded in hiding himself by a series of movements when the different doors of the apparatus were successively opened:
The drawer G G, when closed, does not reach the back side of the chest, but leaves between it and its back an empty space, O, measuring fourteen inches in breadth, eight in height, and two feet eleven inches in length (Figs. 9, 10, and 11). This space is never shown to the spectator. The little closet extending from A to B is separated into two parts by a dark hanging, S (Fig. 8), which is raised when the door, B, is opened, and lowered when it is shut. The front part of the closet is entirely filled with the wheels that are thought to move the automaton. The back part is empty and is separated from the large closet that the doors C form, by a thick curtain, R, which hangs freely, being only fixed at its upper part. A part, Q, of the bottom partition of the large closet C C—the part in front of the Turk—is movable around a horizontal axis, and is provided with a weight toward the interior of the closet sufficient to cause it to fall always in a vertical position. The box L is movable, and serves to hide an aperture in the floor of the closet; and the box M is stationary, but has no bottom, and covers likewise a corresponding hole in the lower floor over the space O. The interior of the Turk is arranged as indicated in Figs. 8, 10, and 11. The end of the chest to the right of the Turk slides in horizontal grooves (properly hidden) in such a way as to give access to the space K. It will now be seen that if a man of small stature introduces himself into the chest on this side, he will be able to thrust his legs into the empty space hidden behind the drawer, and to place the rest of his body in the space K, as may be seen in Fig. 5, and by pushing the curtain before him and removing the movable box, L, he will be able to assume the position shown in Figs. 3 and 4. It is in such position that he awaits the beginning of the exhibition. The box M serves for receiving his feet.
It will be remembered that the first operation of the exhibitor consists in opening the door A, at which time the public sees only the mechanism, and, behind it, the dark curtain, S, whose distance cannot be estimated. The exhibitor next passes behind the chest, and, opening the door B, introduces a light behind the mechanism, which is believed to occupy the whole width of it. The curtain, S, being raised, it is seen by the light that shines through the different pieces that they cannot serve to hide any one. He then closes and locks the door B, and, returning to the front, opens the drawer and performs the operations already described, in order to give his confederate time to take the position shown in Fig. 5. The box L having been put back in place, as well as the curtain R, the public sees only an empty space when the doors C are opened. The curtain S, which has fallen, hides the back of the confederate, although the door A remains open; and it is then that on introducing the light through the door D, the exhibitor shows that the large closet has not a double bottom. The doors C being again closed with the same key, so as to make believe that these different closings are due to the necessity of removing this key at every operation, the chest is turned around, the two doors, E and F, are opened before the public to show that the body of the Turk is empty, and finally the machine is wound up slowly, the wheelwork making considerable noise the while. During this time the confederate raises the movable partition Q, takes his legs from behind the drawer, introduces the upper part of his body into a portion of the manikin, which is so arranged as to give his loins a convenient support, and seats himself on the box L, as shown in Figs. 6 and 7. The game may then begin, the hidden player following his moves through the sufficiently transparent fabric that forms the Turk’s clothing. In order that the confederate may easily introduce his arm into that of the manikin, it is necessary to give the latter a certain position, this being the reason for the addition of a pipe in the hand and a cushion under the elbow, both of which are removed when the game begins. A simple cord permits of moving one of the manikin’s fingers so as to pick up or drop the chessmen. The left arm of the confederate, which remains in the machine, is employed in moving the head and in producing the noise of wheelwork at every motion.
In reality, in M. De Kempelen’s automaton, it was the left arm that moved the pieces. It is said that this peculiarity was due to the fact that the chess player who operated the automaton was left-handed. There has even been a touching romance related on this subject, to the effect that the hidden chess player was a Polish officer who, having been compromised in the revolt against Catharine the Great, and having lost his legs in fighting, was received by Kempelen, who thus hid him so well from the searches of the Russian police that he could go to conquer his sovereign in the game in the midst of her court.