After a month, the ‘Anoetos’ illusion was introduced, and was reviewed as having “nothing in it of that horrible nature which has been witnessed in the Decapitated Head tricks; it is refined and finished, a more marvellous effort of the art of legerdemain cannot be imagined.”

More of the Silvester family’s repertoire was added over time, to provide changes of programme; the Sealed Packet message reading, Blood Writing on the Arm, and Daisy Silvester’s Masks and Faces were all well received, and Silvester capitalised on his large audiences by selling a pitch book, “Dr. Silvester’s Book of Magic and Mystery”, containing the usual array of simple conjuring tricks for the amateur. The known variants of the booklet were printed in Brisbane, compiled by theatrical agent M.L. Raphael. It is possible that an earlier edition was also produced in Melbourne. To further cater for the demand, matinee performances, commencing at 3p.m. were introduced; a novel innovation at the time.

At last, on February 20, 1875, the Enchanted Canopy (or ‘Where Are We Now?’) was put before the Melbourne audience with all the comic characters and interplay which went along with the illusion itself. The Argus gave a somewhat better description of the canopy than had the British press, explaining that “a small curtained framework, about the size of a bathing-box is placed in the center of the stage. The audience can see under it, and when the curtains are pulled aside they perceive that nothing intervenes between the holes at the back and the scenery which is some distance behind. The curtains are then drawn and when a moment afterwards they are unclosed, a young lady, dressed as Ophelia, is discovered. This is Miss Alice Deorwyn …” The actress Alice Doerwyn was married to actor-manager Charles Holloway, whose daughter was likewise an actress, Beatrice Holloway.

There seemed to be no reduction in the size of his audiences, and although ‘last weeks’ were announced, prior to moving to Ballarat, Silvester soon began (3) the construction of a new Fairy Fountain to rival his existing display. “It will be capable of forming with its waters a bouquet of flowers, a Prince of Wales’ feather, and several other devices …. to give an idea of the amount of labour in its construction, we have only to say that a piece of copper not larger than the size of the crown of a hat contains no less than three thousand water jets … together with a vast quantity of pipes which all have to be fitted with the greatest care and maintenance under the personal supervision of Dr. Silvester.”

The roller skating act of brothers Alfred and Charles was a feature of performances in early March, not simply a display of skill, but a humorous sketch in which the brothers demonstrated the stumbling attempts of newcomers to the sport.

Finally, on March 12, 1875, the St. George’s Hall season was brought to a close after a record hundred nights. Immediately Alfred moved across to the Theatre Royal for six nights, presenting his new grand illuminated Fairy Fountain and the Entranced Lady, in a combination show which also featured the legendary George Coppin. The Silvesters then moved across to nearby Ballarat, opening on March 27 for a limited engagement. (The term ‘nearby’ is relative – Ballarat is 115Km or 74 miles from Melbourne). An interesting trick is noted amongst the smaller effects; a tumbler, brimful of water, was rolled around in a shawl for some time, afterwards vanishing, then being reproduced from the shawl, still filled with water. Silvester announced his intention to “explode some of Mr. Foster’s so-called spiritual appearances” in one of his early ventures into the anti-spiritualistic exposures which he would later expand.

The medium was Charles H. Foster was an American whose chief claims to notoriety were ‘skin writing’ in which the names of spirits would appear on various parts of his body (and which Silvester performed as ‘Blood Writing on the Arm’) and the reading of messages written on slips of paper and rolled into pellets. This feat, which would become a standard trick of theatrical mindreaders (4), raised the suspicion of investigators, who found that Foster’s habit of repeatedly lighting matches for his cigar allowed him to substitute a pellet and open it under cover. Foster had been in Melbourne during early 1874 but his test sittings were regarded as little more than trickery and his mind-reading less skilful than Robert Heller. By April 1882 he was reported to be in an asylum for the incurably insane at Danvers, Mass.

Moving across to Bendigo Mechanic’s Hall on April 11 where, due to the amount of luggage he was carrying, not all of his show could be performed; this in particular included the Fairy Fountain which needed a substantial setup and suitable plumbing to provide water pressure. On the following evening, however, the fountain was in operation and “the audience repeatedly testified their appreciation of this fine spectral display, as new colours and new forms each more brilliant and elegant than those which had preceded it were produced. This alone was worth all the rest of the entertainment …” (5)

Houses continued to be good, but on May 3 the entire family, assistants, Signor Gagliardi and his musicians, amounting in all to fourteen people, departed for New Zealand aboard the Tararua.

The Fakir enjoyed excellent reviews and strong attendance throughout his tour. Daisy Silvester featured in her Masks and Faces and the Entranced Lady, Charles was most likely the lionesque talking head, Alfred2 and Charles gave their Skating Routine; occasionally it seems that Alfred2 performed his mentalism act. In Dunedin, Alfred2 was engaged to give private skating lessons every afternoon at the new ‘Octagon’ roller rink.

The show, however, must have been problematic to transport by anything other than boat. The fountain had its own demands (at Auckland it was noted that men had been engaged for three days erecting tanks to supply it), but the scenic requirements for the Entranced Lady, and for the spectacle of Anoetos, not to mention sheet glass required for Anoetos and the Educated Lion, meant that it was not possible to play short seasons in the many small townships which were dotted across the country. Robert Heller, in 1870, had trouped overland a show big enough to give five changes of programme, together with a full-sized Erard grand piano, but in the same four-month duration had managed to appear in more venues.

The most significant aspect of the New Zealand tour was that when the Silvesters returned to Australia, the Fakir’s son, Alfred Silvester Silvester (Alfred2) made the decision to remain in New Zealand and to perform on his own account, assisted by his wife Louisa, who would be billed under the name “Md. Naomi”.

Bernard Reid, in his recounting of the 1875 tour, speculates that there must have been some falling-out between the family members. However, there are many other good reasons why Alfred junior may have wished to establish himself as a magician. Although, in 1875, he was just twenty-two years old, he had assisted his father as far back as the American tour of 1869, and had become an experienced and capable performer. Perhaps he recognised that opportunities in New Zealand were good for a magician with a lighter-weight show. And importantly, his wife of just a year had given birth at Christchurch on July 3, 1875 to a son (9). With dazzling originality, the parents christened their new boy Alfred William Silvester, and he would go on to become the next generation of magical Silvesters.

Now we have two threads of the Silvester story to follow. To avoid repeatedly jumping between Alfred1 and Alfred2 as they go their different ways, most of the tale of young Alfred2’s solo career will be reserved for a later chapter; however the paths of both “Alfreds” would come together again in Australia, and sooner than might be expected.

‘Punch’ need not have worried, as a review of the Fakir’s private exhibition on the evening before opening (8) declared “the Fakir is superior to all the wizards who have preceded him. His style is easy and graceful; he sings snatches of songs, has a fund of humour, and a good presence …. In those illusions that demand great mechanical contrivance he is a triton amongst the minnows of escamoteurs.”

Rainer spent several hundred pounds fitting out the plumbing for the Fountain, running the water from a block away in George Street, down the lane “by the side of Mr. Love’s Grocery store”; and the permanence of the installation can be seen from two letters written to the Council of Sydney (7) in 1877 and 1878. The first requested permission to convert the water main laid on to the School of Arts for the Fakir (and now not required) to be converted into a fire-main, which was granted on the grounds that it provided added security against fire. Some months later the piping was temporarily removed in order to excavate for a new building at the School’s rear, but it was considered so essential to the School of Arts that an application was granted in March 1878 to replace the pipes.

The Sydney season opened with no less success than in Melbourne. Said the Australian Town and Country Journal:

“Lovers of the marvellous have a great treat before them in the performances of the great modern magician styled the Fakir of Oolu. His private rehearsal on Wednesday, with necessarily imperfect preparation and the Fakir himself in bad form through rheumatic gout, was not a good opportunity for judging, yet we certainly never saw a more astounding performance. The Fakir is about as little like a real Fakir as any one well could be, being tall, portly, of imposing presence, and evidently, one would say, on good terms with most of the good things of this life. But he is the very idea of a magician of the old Eastern or Arabian Nights order. He might have been one of the veritable Egyptian magicians that played their rods before Pharoah, if indeed he would not have beaten those worthies at their own weapons, as surely as Aaron did. His illusion of the "entranced lady" must be seen to be believed, and is far too astounding to be believed even then, while his fountain of sparkling waters, the abode of the Queen of the Naiads, is as lovely as poet's dream ever was of the domain of those watery beauties. When we add that the Fakir has a good voice both in speaking and singing, a ready wit, and an eye equally capable of fun and of fire, we have pretty well described a gentleman who is certain to conjure the coin out of people's pockets where ever he goes, as any magician that ever waved a wand.”

The weeks rolled on with continued plaudits from the press and the crowds at the School of Arts, though in the Evening News of October 12 somebody overstepped the mark by advertising the Fakir of Oolu as “the original inventor and patentee of The Fairy Fountain, The Cherubs in the Air, The Proteus, The Sphynx, Enchanted Canopy, Anoetos and the Great Ghost Illusion; the same having been sold by Dr. Silvester to Professor Pepper.” Dircks, Tobin and Pepper may have expressed a different opinion, were they not on the other side of the world.

Towards the end of October, the comic shadow sketch “Ten Minutes in Shadow Land” was added to the programme, and in early November, in the absence of his skating brother Alfred2, Charles Silvester took Mr J.V. Lawrence as his second in the Grand Novel Skating Act, Central Park by Moonlight or, The Fair One with the Golden Locks and “The Modern Swell”. Blurring the theatrical lines, the skating act was advertised as though Lawrence had been one of the original duo.

"It is not easy to understand the reason why any sane human, being of British speech should dub himself the "FAKIR OF OOLU !" Dirt, discomfort, rags, and ill-behaviour, are the usual concomitants of the title, which is, be it said, seldom accompanied by any territorial appendage. The present "Fakir," Anglice, Doctor Alfred Sylvester, is a comely English gentleman, of forty years old, or so, black-haired and full-bearded, bright-eyed, and, ruddy, genial in manner, with a fairly musical voice, a tendency to rotundity, a plentiful supply of verbal quips and cranks, and a suspicion of gout, which, he jokes at as persistently as Falstaff did at his waist-band. The first part of the worthy Doctor's entertainment is composed of those tricks which have been made more or less familiar by Frikell, Hermann, Heller, Jacobs, and other gentlemen of that ilk. He produces inexhaustible quantities of ribbon, a child's wardrobe, a number of workboxes, and a whole shopful of toys from a hat, singing a jolly song and jesting cheerfully all the time. He grows a bouquet in a sugar bowl, takes eight or nine eggs from his attendant's mouth, cuts handkerchiefs to pieces, and gives them back whole, and does all his spiriting so dexterously that the pleasure in being cheated is at least as great as the profit he derives from the cheat.

In all this business he is capitally helped by his son, a clever boy of seventeen [Charles], whose sharpness and arch ways assist the general effect immensely. Presently the somewhat formidable command to "BRING IN THE LION," is given, and the doctor, after issuing his mandate, does what Mrs. Wilfer, in the "Mutual Friend," used to do when she had ordered an invisible servant to open the door, i.e., obeys his direction himself. The lion is a somewhat amiable-looking animal, given to expressing his opinions in an epigrammatic manner, and a rather, juvenile voice. He is perched on the top of a box, which, when turned round to the audience, is apparently hollow and empty, but for a few lighted candles, intended to warm up the animal. The trick, which is a very attractive one, is a modification of the once famous "Protean Illusion," and the lion, having said some very amusing things, is wheeled out amid general applause. The next scene shews an alchemist's laboratory, with the ghastly head of a newly decapitated body swinging on a square plank, suspended from the ceiling by four ropes at the corners. At the one side is the doctor, by this time encased in mediaeval toggery, at the other a masked executioner, with a tremendous, but perfectly clean sword, which has just done the business of justice upon the still writhing corpse that lies on the floor. Under the doctor's invocation the head confesses its past crimes, and atones for them by adjuring the Sydney workmen to abstain from strikes, in a speech altered from one which John Oxenford wrote for the illusion some nine years back, when in a different form, under the title of the "Delphian Oracle," it took all London by storm.

THE ENTRANCED LADY. The third part of the entertainment shews Miss Daisy Sylvester, becomingly habited, comfortably mesmerised, and carefully balanced upon a pole which is placed under her right elbow. She is quickly invested with many different costumes, placed in numerous striking attitudes, and represents a variety of mythological and historical personages, with great effect. Coloured calcium lights are used in this scene with extreme skill, and, at the close, the doctor coolly removes the pole, and leaves the lady seemingly floating in the air. This was originally a part of Robert-Houdin's performance, but Doctor Sylvester has vastly improved it, and made that which was only surprising, really beautiful. The exhibition concludes with a display of an exquisite fountain, upon which coloured lights are directed with marvellous results. Doctor Sylvester and his talented son and daughter carry everything through with great verve, and the audience are highly delighted. The "Fakir" is no stranger to the amusement-seekers of any part of the world. He is the final patentee and improver of that once famous optical illusion known as "The Ghost," which, first conceived by Robinson, nearly thirty years ago, was brought into practical form by Henry Dircks and J.H. Pepper, at the Polytechnic, in 1862, adapted to the stage by the last-named gentleman at the Britannia Theatre, Hoxton, in a piece called "Faith, Hope, and Charity," produced in April, 1863, and, on the 20th of June, in the same year, transferred, in the highest form of perfection, to the Adelphi Theatre where Toole, and Mrs. Mellon; R. Phillips, Billington, and Henrietta Sims, made an admirable cast for Dickens' Christmas story of the " Haunted Man." No more attractive entertainment of the kind can be seen than this capital mixture of conjuring, chemistry, and mechanical dexterity."

After two months, Dr. Silvester called a halt to his Sydney season, thanked the audiences for their patronage and promised to return the following year, and headed south to Goulburn Mechanics’ Hall). “Dr. Silvester, the Fakir of Oolu” wrote the Evening News on November 15, “a very genial showman, concluded his admirable entertainments at the School of Arts on Saturday night. The Fakir has had a good season and has worked hard to provide a good exhibition in which laudable effort he has succeeded with the assistance of his unaffected and clever little daughter and his son Charles. Dr. Silvester has also had the services of a thoroughly good band under Mr. Gagliardi, late of Tasmania. Mr. Tom Lewis the comedian and clown has also been invaluable in the shadow pantomime and other funniment.”

At Bathurst School of Arts, where Alfred was unable to show the Fountain due to the scarcity of water, there was an alarming report at the start of December that “it has been a raging gale of wind here since one o’clock. The new School of Arts was unroofed and Dr. Silvester had a narrow escape from death, and his company also. The doctor is badly bruise by falling timber, but the rest were uninjured”. A few days later, however, the report was said to have been exaggerated, a few sheets of roofing iron being blown off, but nobody injured.

The Silvesters headed back to Melbourne for a return season at St. George’s Hall commencing on Christmas Eve. This time he was promising something new for his audiences, and the hall was renovated and re-decorated, with added stage room for both the musicians and the newest version of the Fountain to be displayed. It soon became known that the big new feature was, in fact, the Pepper’s Ghost illusion. As an indication of just how little secrecy really surrounded the Ghost’s creation, the Herald of December 22 reported “The second ghost glass for the Fakir of Oolu’s illusion, to be shown for the first time in St. George’s Hall on Friday, was successfully got into position on the stage, under Dr. Silvester’s personal supervision, yesterday. The sheet, which was obtained from Messrs Brooks, Robinson and Co. is the largest in the colony. It is of plate glass, and measures 14 feet by 12.” Silvester’s advertising once again stretched the limits of history by stating that The Ghost was invented, perfected and patented by himself. His artistic creativity was still strong, as the playlets surrounding the illusion were cleverly scripted and staged.

ST. GEORGE'S HALL. “A very large audience spent Boxing night with the Fakir of Oolu. The programme presented has been introduced on previous occasions, and there was no special feature in its representation last night calling for comment. The dissolving views with which the entertainment opens were, judging from the small meed of applause which greeted them, not so highly appreciated as the more sensational parts of the entertainment. The phantascopic entertainment seemed to give the greatest satisfaction. One Timothy Crisp is represented as being lost in a wood, with a thunderstorm imminent and a profusion of visitants from the spirit world meeting him on every side. Timothy Crisp, however, is not at all discomfited, and resigns himself to fate with heroism which is certainly productive of a great deal of amusement. Spirits from the upper and lower regions — and strongly suggestive of both extremes — appear upon the scene. Timothy's courage never forsakes him. He greets the figures represented in the looking-glass with a most bewitching air of politesse; and, if one might judge from the very familiar greeting which the august potentate of the lower regions receives, the natural inference would be that that gentleman and Timothy were on terms of the most intimate friendship, and were excessively fond of one another's society. The ghost scene which follows the adventures of Timothy Crisp was productive of a great deal of amusement, and the suspension of the entranced lady in mid-air was quite awe-striking. The fairy fountain formed a very agreeable interlude, the evening's entertainment being brought to a close with a spectral pantomime produced with phantascopic effects, in which Mr. Tom Lewis's buffoonery was very entertaining.”

Mr. Lewis, alas, was not much longer with the company. Later in January he sued Alfred Silvester for £10 wage, after being dismissed. In the court case which ensued, depending on the viewpoint of the two sides, Mr. Lewis had been to the cricket earlier in the day and, either through drowsiness in the sun, or drink, arrived at the theatre either a few minutes or a full hour late, causing his section of the entertainment to be cancelled at that performance. The case was also made that a drunk man on stage might fall through the ‘Ghost’ glass and seriously injure those below. Mr. Lewis’ case was dismissed.

From the very start of 1876, the Fakir’s son Alfred returned to the fold after a successful tour of New Zealand. His solo achievements will be covered separately, but Alfred2 had proven to himself that an independent career was feasible. He had also developed his skills as a ventriloquist, and was now featured in the St. George’s show with “The Talking Hand”. As a matter of distinction, the father described himself as either The Fakir of Oolu or Dr. Silvester, while the son was known as Mr. Alfred Silvester.

Harking back to his old days of photographic illustration, the Fakir also advertised a series of Pictorial Reminiscences or Chromographic Illustrations, from sketches taken by himself on the voyage out via Suez, and a descriptive lecture, “Ah! That Reminds Me.”

Amongst the ‘Chromographic Illustrations’ shown to the audiences was listed “Views of Mont Blanc”. In the archives of the National Gallery of Australia in Canberra is held a book, yet to be examined, titled “A few explanations by the Fakir of Oolu, respecting the view of Mont Blanc.” (10) It is a fair certainty that this will prove to be the speaking notes of the Fakir to accompany the series of slides. Unfortunately, if Silvester had hoped for a repeat of his earlier unqualified success in Melbourne, it was not to be. His major feats, though popular, were now familiar, and though the first few days of the season were crowded, some of his new material was not hitting the mark:

“The Fakir of Oolu's new entertainment at St. George's-hall is not so largely attended as it was anticipated it would be, but the audiences may, under the circumstances, be considered fair ones. The entertainment has, in point of fact, fallen short of the expectations formed of it. The first part, consisting of phantoscopic views of points of interest on the route to the top of Mont Blanc, is not good. The pictures are crude and raw, and they would have been considered bad twenty years since if exhibited as dissolving views. The mesmeric suspension of Miss Sylvester is quite as good as ever ; the ghost hallucination very excellent, but marred by an unfortunate soliloquy delivered in a most wretched manner. The very handsomest fountain ever seen in Australia lit up with beautiful limelights is exhibited, and a spectral pantomime, or harlequinaide, in which the figures (living ones) perform behind a large sheet placed across the stage, upon which a strong light is thrown as in a magic-lantern. Parts of this last business are managed very well indeed, but there are others which could he excised with advantage. On Saturday the Doctor intends exhibiting an entirely new and very grand waterfall, and I am told it is to eclipse anything previously done in this way.”

The Fakir was also in competition with the annual Pantomime season, as well as being parodied at the nearby Apollo Hall by performers from ‘St. Vincent’s Gem Combination’ troupe, in which Madame St. Vincent performed ‘wonderful and startling illusions’ as “The Fakir To Do You.” Dr. Silvester was sufficiently offended as to advertise a request for “true British love of fair play” in the use of his title. A new improvement to the Fountain, titled the Falls of Niagara, was advertised, and according to the “Leader” of January 8, “Dr. Silvester has given up his Eastern garb and adopted the European, which was decidedly impolitic on his part, as the Fakir of Oolu’s attire certainly added to the general effect.” Ultimately this proves to be untrue, since the Fakir’s robes are mentioned in later reviews.

Vigilant to the signs, Alfred introduced new attractions, and during the “bedding-in” period, the Argus (January 10) commented:

“The Fakir of Oolu made a change in his programme on Saturday night. There was a large attendance. One of the new features was a scene entitled ‘The Death Warning or the Miser’s Dream’ in which Mr. A. Sylvester fairly represents a miser gloating and falling asleep over his ill-gotten gains, when to him appear the spirits of those of his family whom he has sacrificed to his avarice and selfishness. The apparitions were for the most part capitally managed becoming visible in an instant, and vanishing as quickly and imperceptibly. Ghosts are noted for doing all sorts of queer things but we never heard of one singing a song and this part of the performance might well be omitted without any deprivation to the audience. The phantom of the boy at sea, too, hardly kept up the reputation of the preceding appearances, more particularly as the youngster who was supposed to be in peril was evidently highly amused at the extraordinary manner in which he had to imitate swimming. It is a pity when the remainder of the scene is so good to mar it by these incongruities. Better that it should be shorter and more consistent.

Another novelty was called The Niagara Falls. Right across the back of the stage stretches a scene on which is painted a high ledge of rocks and over this there falls a stream of water, which breaking into innumerable jets has every appearance of a natural cascade leaping from boulder to boulder When those are illuminated by different coloured lights the effect is most fairy-like and beautiful and when the fountain in the foreground which is previously shown is lit up by a distinct colour from that of the waterfall at the back, the brilliancy of the scene is still further increased.”

Overall the season was successful, if not the triumph of his original appearance, and following a month at the Hall, the Fakir announced an intention to move across into South Australia, in Adelaide’s Theatre Royal.

At this point, Alfred Silvester had no view towards settling in Australia for good. He was under the management of J.C. Rainer and his job was to find good theatres, attract audiences and make some money, and so it was understandable that he would, at first, cherry-pick the best opportunities. It is likely that his full intention was to travel back to Britain, possibly via other countries such as India and China.

Touring in Australia, however, was an entirely different proposition to travelling in either Britain or the United States. For starters, the population of Australia was comparatively tiny. In 1876, less than one hundred years since the land was colonised by the British, there were less than two million people living in the entire country; by comparison, there were twice as many people living in London alone.

The two major population centres were New South Wales (still a self-governing colony until 1901) with 585,000 people, of whom 225,000 lived in the coastal city of Sydney. The colony of Victoria was created in 1851 and gained statehood in 1901, but in 1851 its population was a mere 77,350 – until gold was discovered and the resulting explosion of immigrants rapidly took it to 800,000. Those numbers meant that a performer had a limited set of potential customers, and a resulting challenge of providing them with something both interesting and new.

The other factor in Australian touring was the distances needing to be travelled. The continent is approximately the same size as the continental United States; it could easily fit within its borders the entire British Isles and all the countries of Europe bounded by Portugal to Romania, and Denmark to Italy, with room to spare. To make a journey between Melbourne and Sydney was some 900Km (560 miles) overland, Melbourne to Adelaide 750Km and, for the bravest traveller, Melbourne to Perth 3,500Km. It was frequently more sensible to travel by steamer from one major port to another. For context, a trip the full length of Britain from Penzance to John O’Groats is around 1,350Km (840miles)

To be sure, there were regional towns of varying sizes, and most had performing facilities in the form of theatres, or at least Town Halls, Schools of Arts, or Mechanics’ Institutes (educational venues for the general public). A magician with not too much luggage and plenty of time could choose a number of different tour routes and draw good houses to their shows. Regional New South Wales or Victoria, particularly in the mining areas, was highly profitable during the gold-rush era. Tasmania’s Eastern coast could be travelled from Launceston down to Hobart with a number of stops along the way. Adelaide and its immediate surrounds might also lead to a more rustic tour of outback towns up to Broken Hill on the intersection of South Australia, NSW and Victoria. Queensland offered towns up the Eastern coast although again the distances could be challenging. For the hardiest, Western Australia might serve as either an arrival or departure point for travellers from Britain or South Africa, though the travel could be hard – magician Carl Hertz, who toured there in 1896, devotes a full chapter of his book (11) to the hardships of his journey, where he travelled with an entourage of twenty camels. As we shall see, Western Australia would become the touring home of Alfred William Silvester, the last of the magical Silvesters.

Nearby New Zealand was another obvious touring destination; while its population was relatively small, there were many towns reachable by either road or steamer, and for a showman who could set up and pack down quickly, there was good money to be made. Doctor Silvester was rather hampered by the weight and staging demands of his artistic scenes.

The last nights of the Fakir at Melbourne were offered up at the start of February, and the original fountain from St. George’s Hall was advertised for sale. Mr Rainer had already arrived in Adelaide, and the company of fourteen sailed from Melbourne mid-month to open at the Theatre Royal on the twenty-first. With a new audience, the Fakir was once more greeted by overflowing houses and his show under the same title he had used for some time, “Mysteria,” drew admiring press reviews.

The Adelaide Observer (12) finally gave us the best available description of the Educated Lion: “A pedestal, mounted on wheels, about the size of a draper’s small packing case – that is, some three feet square – is run on to the stage. On this reposes with head on paws a very realistic lion, except that the hind quarters are ridiculously disproportioned. This strange beast lolls about, growls, sneezes, uses his forepaws with much natural action and, funniest feat of all, cracks jokes and propounds conundrums in a deep sepulchral voice. One of his riddles which struck the folks in front as being specially good was – “Why is a threepenny loaf the mother of the sewing machine?” On this being given up by his master came the next question, “Isn’t bread a necessity?” The answer of course is Yes. “And isn’t a sewing machine an invention?” Yes again. Then comes the absurd query, “Well, isn’t necessity the mother of invention?” After Leo has displayed his abilities in this manner for some time the pedestal whereon he rests is wheeled round, and is found to be open at the back, having lights in the interior, which is then discovered to be perfectly empty, thus causing the puzzling enquiry whence came the voice and motions of the lion. That a man is not concealed in the body of the beast is proved by that portion being raised, and found to be simply a piece of moulded material laid on top of the box …”  A very clever use of the Sphinx/Proteus principle, though of the joke we can only say that times have changed!

Once again, the famous Fountain (now rejoicing in the title “Hydatapikilumina” or “Kalospinthechromokrene”) was described in ecstatic detail, and predictions were made of a prosperous season for the Fakir. For March 8, the Enchanted Canopy was introduced, the various interrupting characters being played by Daisy, Alfred2 and his wife Louisa. The Beautiful Entranced Lady was on one special occasion balanced on the points of two double edged swords. The “Brothers Silvester” presented their skating act. Presumably this was again Charles and Alfred; however Mr. J. Lawrence was still with the troupe, giving the illustrated lecture on Mont Blanc, which for the first time is acknowledged to have been sourced from a British panoramic exhibition given for years by Mr. Albert Smith at Egyptian Hall c.1854. (13)

All was well, and the large audiences were being warned that the season would be coming to an end due to further commitments in Melbourne. Suddenly, a bombshell was dropped when, on March 17, almost the very last night in Adelaide, it was announced that Alfred’s wife, Mary Ann Christiana Silvester, was very ill and that the Fakir had left overland to be at her side. Alfred junior stepped in to fill the void at the Theatre Royal, the ‘Register’ reporting that he “performed his manifold duties so skilfully that even the hypercritical could only say that he in some measure lacked the Doctor’s fluency of speech and his frequent sallies of good humour.”

Alfred arrived about two hours before his wife died, on March 19, aged just forty-five. She is buried at Melbourne General Cemetery (14).

In the way of theatrical life, private mourning was not permitted to stand in the way of professional engagements, and the company quickly entered into a series of short suburban performances in Melbourne from early April, in Williamstown, Emerald Hill, Richmond and St. Kilda. With a promise to return to St. George’s Hall soon, they left on April 10 headed for Tasmania. Travelling as pianist was Mr. Thomas Valentine Twinning, a musician who had a very full career in the company of many magical performers. (14) He appears to have been born in New Zealand in 1851 and then came to Australia at a young age, developing into a concert pianist, organist and musical director. As an amateur magician as well, Twinning enjoyed working across the world with a long list of magicians. In addition to Dr. Silvester he would work with Philip Anderson, Canaris, Professor Perron, Cora De Lamond, Grace Egerton and Fred Maccabe (ventriloquist). He counted amongst his friends the Davenport Brothers, Carl Hertz, Professor Baldwin and William Fay. By 1912 he had retired to Minneapolis but was still considering further offers of work; he died in 1931.

The Tasmanian tour might have come to a sticky end when on April 12 the train carrying two trucks of Silvester’s equipment derailed at Campania, not far from Hobart. A truckload of bark had not been properly loaded and, as the train went around a curve, it turned over and derailed, dragging with it a first class carriage and two others. Passengers, which did not include any of the Silvester company, were not seriously injured and the train arrived later in Hobart, but the potential for damage to the magical apparatus might have made for a serious situation.

At the Theatre Royal in Hobart for a brief season of two weeks, houses were good but the prices being charged were seen as a deterrent to continued success. The usual repertoire was well received, and Alfred2’s ventriloquial acted noted as “The Funny Old Woman of Lushington”. Daisy seemed to have widened her repertoire with an item billed as “Model Men” which may have been another term for the “Masks and Faces” routine, though it was mentioned at Ballarat as ‘Lightning Changes’.

During this season, Alfred senior may have made the acquaintance of Miss Sarah Amelia Beaumont, daughter of William George and Sarah from Hobart, where she was born May 19, 1855. William Beaumont was a veteran hotel keeper at Liverpool Street. By the early 1870s Sarah had become a singer of local renown with her sister Emily, possibly as an amateur but talented enough to take on a role at a benefit night at the Theatre Royal in 1874, where she was mentioned as “a deservedly established favourite with the citizens of Hobart Town.” Miss Beaumont will re-enter the story in Chapter Four.

This amusing side-story to the Fakir of Oolu comes from the Cornwall Chronicle of May 8, 1876. It is told in the voice of Sairey Gamp, a nurse from the Charles Dickens novel, “Martin Chuzzlewit”; Sairey was the stereotype of an untrained and incompetent nurse before the reforms of Florence Nightingale and other campaigners. Judging by the reference to ‘Halbert Haul, the tale may have originated back in England.

"... it may interest many to know what an old familiar friend thinks of some of tho Fakir's doings in another colony. Let her speak for herself and tell how Sairey Gamp Goes to See the Fakir.

Dear Mr Heditor.- As it was only last Saturday arternoon as Marier and I 'ad been out for a hairing, when all at wunce she pulls me hup and says, "Mar, who's the Fakir?"' "Wot Fakir?" sez I, as never knew more 'n one in all my life pussonally, as the sayin' is, and that wos a wagabone as walked orf with six of my best spoons and a flannin' petticote, as wos bran new, and of no use to anybody but the owner, I should say, leastways to that yonng man as pawned it for fifteen-penuce, whidge the ticket was found on 'im, and as got seven months. 'Noncenta, Mar,' says Marier, and she pointed to a black bill, as 'ad "Who's the Fakir?" written on it in white letters and pasted hup again the shop of an hockshunner, in Union street. 'Well,' sez I, 'I suppose it's Burton as 'ave gone into that line, and as 'ort to be ashamed of 'isself.' But Marier laffed, and sed as 'ow Mr Burton was a respectable man, and the Fakir was something else. And sure enuf when we gets 'ome there was your note, as Marier reads, my site not being wot It were, and 'avin' no specktekuls 'andy.

Then be commenced his tricks. 'Bless my 'eart,' he sez, ' I 'aint got no flower in my cote, wot flower shall it be ?' - A red rose,' sez I, as is fond on em'. - 'Red nose,' sez one of them sassy young feller as was sitting in the front row of the fourtails. "Red nose, old gal; I guess you've got enuff of that already." But the Fakir he take no notice of their himerance, but taps his breast with his magic wand, and there was the rose. Then, sez he, "Willie", (Willie was the young feller as waited on 'im) "praps the company would like some flowers, whige, if they would, go and borrer a 'att". So Will went and borrered a 'att, and the things as come out of that att you never! First there was a boykay as 'ad all manners of flowers in it, as everybody axed for; and arter that yards upon yards of ribbing of all colors, and sich a pile of boxes, not to menshun a crinnilin and colliflour, and other misselanyus trifuls; and all the wile that fakir was telling funny stories as made us all laff, and makin' 'is jokes as though nothing 'ad 'appened. Then he too some pocketankerchers, as he cut, and tore, and burnt all to bits, but as come all right again in no time when he fired orf a pistol, as made Marier jump orf 'er seat, and fritend me, and arter that he volunteerd to show us some of his tricks. But, bless yer 'eart, though he showed some on them, we couldn't do it ourselves if we tried for a month.

"Now Willie", sez he, "take those bits of paper and blacklead pencils and let any lady or gentleman rite the name of any deceased person, poick, orthor, staitsman, king, or anything." "Wot shall I rite?" I wispered to Marier, as Willie parsed the paper and pencil to me, on a silver salvo. "Rite Charles Dickens, mar," she sez. So I rote Charles Dickens. And art that young feller 'ad collected the hole on 'em again, the Fakir comes out, and sez he, looking at me reproachfully, "Sairey, this is rong, you know its rong' you've bin and rote Charles Dickens, when you knose it was Charles Dickens as rote you!" "Grashus evins!" I sez, " 'ow did he know that, as never saw it; I'll take my dying after-david." But it wos all the same. One individgle had rote down Bismark as ought to be rote down, and he told it right out; another feller had rote daisy and in the twinklin of a hye there it was a-written in blood on his arm. "Marier," sez I, "this makes my flesh creep all over, as nothing but a little gin cold will alleviagate," and there being a interval, we went across to No Place and hindulged in two three-pennanths.

But lor, the second part was more mistearyus than ever, and froze me up, as the saying is, and at the hend of it I felt as Shakspeare the immorchal bard ses, if every partikler air was standin' on end, like squills on the fretful porkepine. First there was a lion, as 'ad a voice like a sawing machine, and growled fearful. Then there wos a balley of four young ladies, as showed their legs more'n I like assackly, but as was very purty and graceful, though I didn't care much for the one as came in and 'oppped about like a penny doll. And arter the balley the lites went down, and there was a 'ed as swung about orful, and confessed wot fearful things the body ad done - the body flinging about itself in the straw under, as if it was trubbled with remorse and roomaticks, as knows wot it it 'aving been a marta to 'em myself. And all the wile that band was playing the most melancholly moosik, and 'ow they plays in the dark is a mystery to me. Then last of all, there wos the young lady, as wos lovely as a picktur, whidge the Fakir put orf into a trance and suspended 'er on a pole, and a making 'er into all sorts of things - a hangel (she was a little hangel too). Then into all sorts of attitudes; fust she was a nite with a sword, then Liberty, then Herrin, then Britannyar, and all that. And arter all she was a flying in the hair on nothingk.

"Wat do you think of 'im?" I asked Marier, as we come out of the haul. Marier shuddered and pointed down below to the internal regines. And I think so too. For if that Fakir ain't a near relation to the old gentleman, my name's not Yours trooly, Sairey Gamp.”

The troupe moved north to perform in Launceston at the Theatre Royal in St. John Street during May. Though the theatre was less than twenty years old, the Cornwall Chronicle described it as “a disgrace to any civilised community”. Despite the Chronicle’s assurance that the house had been “elegantly fitted” for the Fakir’s appearance, on his departure he announced that on the occasion of his return he would redecorate and refit the venue. Ultimately it was demolished in 1878.

With two lengthy newspaper reviews, Launceston provided some extra snippets of information about Silvester’s performance. He delivered a short lecture on spiritualism, in which he said he did not believe in professed mediums, or in making larrikins of those who had retired from this world; causing illustrious shades of great men and women to fetch and carry to the tune of table turning in most ignoble fashion. Leo the Lion told another of his classic jokes; he had thought of getting married, but found he couldn’t, on account of the expense of taking sixteen wives – four better, four worse, four richer and four poorer. Something not often mentioned was the interval while the next scene was prepared – the Entranced Lady appeared after a break of eight minutes, and the Fakir, who had up to this point appeared in ordinary English outfit, came out in ‘rich Eastern costume, with turban and the drapery of a Caliph.’ The Fakir also gave “explanations” of some tricks, but these were so bogus as to be laughable.

Brothers Alfred and Charles gave a display of graceful skating including backwards movement, then Alfred re-entered as a full-blown ‘swell’ though a juvenile at roller skating. His mishaps were amusing, and he had not got his skating legs in, when a lady neophyte (Charles) entered at railway speed, and came down right on the swell’s hat. The advertised feat of “Gog and Magog” was an encore roller-skating feat by Alfred2 and Charles in the characters of a giant and giantess, where the characters could be elongated to the extent of peering into a box in the dress circle.

“The character of the entertainment”, said the ‘Tasmanian’, “renders it impossible for the Fakir to visit the country districts, and we advise our readers to accept this opportunity of witnessing a very wonderful and beautiful exhibition.” So, by May 20, with the highest plaudits from Launceston, the company departed Tasmania.

A regional tour of Victoria followed in June, the company visiting Bendigo, Castlemaine, Echuca, Sandhurst and then Ballarat up to July 8 where, at the Academy of Music, the Courier said, “The Fakir has a bonhomie and good-humoured way of putting things, and accomplishing his various feats, that at once sets him on good terms with his audience.” The Ballarat audience had been invited to submit their conundrums for Leo in a competition, but “Mr Russell then proceeded to read the conundrums and their answers, most of them being nothing but rubbish, while those that were at all acceptable were rather poor.” Silvester continued in the direction of Melbourne once more, visiting Geelong and Stawell while St. George’s Hall was again decorated for his return on August 5.

The Mt. Alexander Mail of June 10, 1876 left us with some useful insight into the construction of the famous fountain:

“By especial favour I was admitted to a view of the stage arrangements for the entertainment of the Fakir of Oolu. Persons visiting the theatre as spectators can have no idea of the costly apparatus employed to produce the wonderful illusions which are the staple of the evening's amusement. The lovely lights of variegated hues, which are constantly cast upon the moving figures, are produced by an adaptation of the celebrated oxyhydrogen lime light in a peculiar apparatus with enormous lenses of various sizes and colours. This apparatus was invented and patented by Dr Silvester, and is now employed to give all those artistic effects in the scenes of the "Entranced Lady," and also to illuminate the "Fairy Fountain." The two gases necessary to produce the lime lights are oxygen and hydrogen, their combustion in a jet concentrated upon apiece of pure lime giving that intense white light so well-known and utilised by theatrical managers. These gases when burnt in conjunction simply produce pure water as a product, but the combustion is of the most violent and dangerous character, hence the apparatus for producing and burning those gases necessarily has to be of the most expensive and scientific nature. The gases are only allowed to mingle at the immediate point of combustion, and are led to that point through pipes from two large gasometers situated at the back of the stage, and constructed on the most scientific principle, and of the most reliable metal. Every possible care and precaution are taken, and the possibility of accident is scientifically reduced to a minimum.

In the centre of the stage a large hole has been cut, through which appear innumerable jets of the "Fairy Fountain." These jets are all in communication with a large species of cabinet on one side of the stage. At the top of this cabinet is a large wrought-iron tube, which bears the same relation to the fountain that the wind-chest does to an organ, and from this tube spring an immense number of pipes, each controlled by a lever tap labelled with the description of its effect. Upon this curious looking keyboard the Fakir plays a set of changes, which certainly only produce the sweet murmur of the brook to the ear, but which, aided by the glorious and ever changing hues of his lime light apparatus, charm the eye with one of those scenes that recall to the mind a page of Monte Christo, a verse of Don Juan, or a whole tale of Arabian Nights. This apparatus was also invented and patented by Dr Silvester, and is necessarily of the most costly description, but, judging from appearances, it has been capital well invested. Concerning those mysterious pieces of apparatus which half amused and half appalled the spectators, it is not permitted to me to say one word, but I think all will agree with me that, apart from the intense interest and amusement such an entertainment affords, there is also a good moral effect gained. Dr Silvester, whilst concealing his method of performing these marvellous feats, never pretends for one moment to the supernatural, but assures his patrons that he simply presents them with a series of wonderful illusions, and he performs these "in the light," his object being to convince the public that he can do far more wonderful things than the Spiritualists can "in the dark," thereby tending to remove a large portion of that superstition which has so lately crept abroad. The cost of the pieces of apparatus which I last night saw upon the stage must have been nearer to £1500 than £1000, and if Castlemaine should not prove so remunerative a "nidus" to Dr Silvester as he could desire, will yet leave here feeling assured that his performances have been appreciated for their talent, cleverness, and careful and delicate avoidance of all that species "bon hommie" which too often becomes coarse, and sometimes lewd in entertainments of a similar nature."

Unlike his previous appearance at St. George’s, the Fakir was strongly received, and the season was profitable, the ‘Herald’ saying “the wonder-working Fakir of Oolu seems to be the owner of the abracadabra which draws good audiences, and this is not surprising when he is the master of so many mystical arts.” Silvester added yet another name to his fountain – “Chromatinhydratallomena”. It was said that on most every available spot where large posters and bills were exposed to view, the words “Fakir of Oolu” and “Hall of Mystery” met the eye; one could wish that they had survived intact today!

Somewhat less popular was the ventriloquist ‘Monsieur’ Ernest Voltaire who, though talented, did not resonate with the press – “M. Voltaire’s dialogue is of the very mildest type, and if it were not for the name, I could almost fancy M. Voltaire a somewhat uneducated Englishman, with an accent savouring of Wapping. He has, however, the ventriloquial faculty developed very strongly … I recommend M. Voltaire to get Mr. Garnet Walch, or a sketch-writer, to prepare a dialogue for him.” (17)

The ’Australasian’ reported that the Fakir had adjusted his performance so that “there are to be no waits, no intervals of ten minutes, during which you suffer the misery of having nothing to do, that is to say if you are not bibulous …. There is, so I am informed, a cabinet of mystery, on the pattern of that of those eminent humbugs the Davenport Brothers, in which the wonder-wounded public will be permitted, and indeed invited, to take part.”

This cabinet, on first appearances, seems to have been a re-working of the Enchanted Canopy, with a new script written by Australian dramatist and journalist, Garnet Walch (16), entitled ‘The Haunted Chamber, or a Night in Queer Company.’ The adventures of a journeyman baker who passes the night at a village inn, is made the victim of a series of spectral illusions, featuring Ophelia, Julius Caesar etc.

However, prior to concluding his season at the Hall, “The Mysterious Cabinet” was announced:- “Is it Spiritualism? Is it Humbug? Seances a la Davenport Brothers – The hands and feet are tied in the cabinet, and still the bells ring. The musical instruments play. The candles are lit. The ropes are sealed with wax. Still they get loose. Flour is placed in the hands. Still they get loose….” Given the arrival on August 22 of the real Davenport Brothers, this was tantamount to a pre-emptive challenge from the Fakir.

(1) Will Alma wrote some fairly extensive articles on Silvester in his “Australian Magic Review” column in the 1970s magic magazine, The Magic Circle Mirror, principally quoting from newspaper reviews. Despite the quote at the start of this chapter, Silvester certainly enjoyed much success, but it was not uninterrupted. Like all other performers, he had to work constantly at attracting an audience.

(2) Rainer – see https://www.sydney.edu.au/paradisec/australharmony/register-R-1.php
There is some lack of clarity over Rainer’s possible connection to the name “R. Bishop Buckley” though it seems that he did perform under this title.

(3) North Melbourne Advertiser, March 5, 1875

(4) For magicians, refer to the Al Mann manuscript, “The Foster Account – A Study of Incredible Feats”, 1983. Bobby Torkova has also written extensively on Foster in his blog at http://blog.torkova.com/?s=foster

(5) Geelong Advertiser, April 14, 1875

(6) Sydney Mail and NSW Advertiser, August 28, 1875

(7) City of Sydney Archives and History:
https://archives.cityofsydney.nsw.gov.au/nodes/search?keywords=oolu&viewtype=grid

(8) Evening News September 16, 1875

(9) Contradictions exist concerning Alfred3 in online family trees. His birth is stated to be either in Christchurch NZ, or in Calcutta, West Bengal, but there is nothing to substantiate the Bengal claim at familysearch.org Likewise, Alfred3 is stated (ancestry.com) to have been baptised in Eastern Hill, Victoria on July 3 1875, but the family was in New Zealand on this date.

(10) Mont Blanc https://www.printsandprintmaking.gov.au/impressions/27836/

(11) Carl Hertz’s (Leib Morgenstein) 1896 tour is detailed in his book “A Modern Mystery Merchant”, Hutchinson & Co. 1924.

(12) Detailed review in Adelaide Observer, February 26, 1876

(13) Smith’s images can be found with an internet search, and a book of his life, “The Cockney who Sold the Alps” was written by Alan McNee, 2015.

(14) Alfred Silvester is buried along with his first wife Mary at Melbourne General Cemetery, North Carton, plot MGC-COE-Comp-N-No-336

(15) T. V. Twinning – see “The Sphinx” magazine of June 15, 1912 page 1

(16) Garnet Walch https://adb.anu.edu.au/biography/walch-garnet-1095

(17) Weekly Times, August 19, 1876. Voltaire was Frank Lay. He would continue with Alfred2 as late as 1878.