My appointment for Saturday was at 2 P.M., and as my train landed me in Kötchenbroda a trifle too early I walked slowly from the depot to the Villa Frikell, not wishing to disturb my aged host by arriving ahead of time.
I rang the bell. It echoed through the house with peculiar shrillness. The air seemed charged with a quality which I presumed was the intense pleasure of realizing my long cherished hope of meeting the great magician. A lady opened the door and greeted me with the words: “You are being waited for.”
I entered. He was waiting for me indeed, this man who had consented to meet me, after vowing that he would never again look into the face of a stranger. And Fate had forced him to keep that vow. Wiljalba Frikell was dead. The body, clad in the best his wardrobe afforded, all of which had been donned in honor of his expected guest, was not yet cold. Heart failure had come suddenly and unannounced. The day before he had cleaned up his souvenirs in readiness for my coming and arranged a quantity of data for me. On the wall above the silent form were all of his gold medals, photographs taken at various stages of his life, orders presented to him by royalty—all the outward and visible signs of a vigorous, active, and successful life, the life of which he would have told me, had I arrived ahead of Death. And when all these were arranged, he had forgotten his morbid dislike of strangers. The old instincts of hospitality tugged at his heart strings, and his wife said he was almost young and happy once more, when suddenly he grasped at his heart, crying, “My heart! What is the matter with my heart? O——” That was all!
There we stood together, the woman who had loved the dear old wizard for years and the young magician who would have been so willing to love him had he been allowed to know him. His face was still wet from the cologne she had thrown over him in vain hope of reviving the fading soul. On the floor lay the cloths, used so ineffectually to bathe the pulseless face, and now laughing mockingly at one who saw himself defeated after weary months of writing and pleading for the much-desired meeting.
IV. Houdini, Back in the United States
Read It and Know It
After reading this chapter, you will know more about
New acts: The Milk Can Escape and the Manacled Bridge Jump would increase Houdini’s fame in the U.S.
Dash: Houdini’s brother styled himself the Magician Hardeen and set himself up as Houdini’s rival, probably to increase Houdini’s fame.
Houdini’s challenge to the public: When Houdini announced he could escape from anything, companies met his challenge by putting him in a vise, a giant envelope, and mailbags.
The iron boiler: When Houdini nearly failed to escape this dangerous container, his fame only grew.
After four and half years abroad, Houdini returned to the United States in the summer of 1905, intending to work for only six weeks before returning to Europe for a final tour and then retiring. He bought a country estate in Stamford, Connecticut and a townhouse in Harlem, into which he moved his mother, sister, and two of his brothers. His brother Leo was now a physician and ran the household while Houdini completed magic shows around the country. The house was located at 278 West 113th Street, and is commonly referred to as 278.
Houdini’s past unsuccessful career in the United States was hardly known, but American audiences now knew him as the King of Handcuffs who had wowed Europe. Determined to keep his fame skyrocketing, Houdini began to work on yet more amazing tricks. He began practicing swimming and holding his breath under water. He had a special large, deep bathtub installed at 278, where Bess would time him as he held his breath under the water. He also practiced exposing himself to cold water. These exercises were preparation for two new acts: the Milk Can Escape and the Manacled Bridge Jump.
In the Milk Can Escape, Houdini climbed into a large can filled with water. The top of the can was closed and locked with at least six padlocks. The can was covered from view by curtains. A huge stopwatch was placed on the stage, and the audience was invited to try to hold its breath as long as Houdini had to in order to escape from the can. An assistant stood by with an ax, ready to break open the can “in case something went wrong.” Of course, no audience member could hold his or her breath for the two minutes that it took Houdini to emerge from the can. The curtains opened to a free Houdini, and the crowd could see that the padlocks on the top of the can were still intact. The secret of the escape is known to other magicians and is purely mechanical in nature.
In Houdini’s other stunt, the Manacled Bridge Jump (also known as the Underwater Handcuff Release), Houdini himself admitted that he was doing something dangerous. This trick involved a handcuffed Houdini leaping from high bridges into rivers below and emerging from the water unshackled. He debuted this trick on film in Rochester, New York and repeated it in the Mississippi River in New Orleans, the Detroit River, the Allegheny River in Pittsburgh, and the Charles River in Boston, from the Harvard Bridge. At least one imitator died doing this trick.