Suddenly, in 1879, Martin Tolmaque vanishes from the public record. For the whole of that year there is no mention at all of him in the press, nor any clues to his whereabouts. 1880 fares little better – but in June 1880 the proprietor of Galley’s Family Hotel in Hunter Street, Newcastle, advertised that if M. Tolmaque did not pay the amount due within seven day, he would sell the clothes left in his possession to defray expenses. A few days later the Brisbane Telegraph notes briefly that “Professor Tolmaque is now in the Armidale District.” Aside from concerns about how he was surviving, his repertoire was rapidly becoming commonplace. Both S.S. Baldwin and Dr. Lynn (Hugh Simmons) visited Australia that year and featured anti-spiritualist feats including the ‘blood writing’ test in their repertoires. The family of Alfred Silvester was likewise performing Davenport Brothers recreations.

It is not until March 1881 that Tolmaque resurfaces in the newspapers, at the Bowden’s Club House Hotel in Sydney, advertising, “Theatrical Manager wanted. Professor Tolmaque, the celebrated conjuror and entertainer, is about to visit New Zealand and South Australia for the first time. Wanted financial manager. A sure success, if well managed.” He would never visit New Zealand or South Australia.

Heading rapidly southwards into Victoria, he made an appearance in Albury at the Exchange Theatre on March 19, which was only mentioned in passing to say that the theatre was well filled. The magician had added another talent to his repertoire, and had become a Phrenologist, interpreting the contours of a person’s skull as a guide to their mental faculties and character traits; a pseudo-science now discredited. This lent itself neatly to Tolmaque’s ability to speak eloquently, could be conducted in private sessions away from the stage, and was popular among his audiences who would line up for a chart of their own heads.

The remainder of the year, however, was a string of small-town appearances in places which even today are only dots on the map. He really could not take a trick – for every viable show he had several which were either poorly attended, or ruined by the weather. At Wangaratta on April 11, he had conceived the brilliant scheme of holding a Baby Show along with his entertainment; and the disaster is best explained in the magician’s own words:

April 16, 1881

PROFESSOR TOLMAQUE'S BABY SHOW. -To the Editor of The Ovens, and Murray Advertiser,

Sir, — Permit me to trespass upon your space to the extent of a few inches. The fact is, I am very anxious to explain to your readers my reason for not going on with my entertainments yesterday afternoon and evening, as previously advertised. I was cautioned against the foolhardy experiment of trying to get an audience, i.e., a payable one; but, like a fool that I was, I ‘rushed, in where angels fear to tread.’ “Nothing but a hospital scandal or the Kelly gang redivivus will excite the stagnant pulse of our town,” said my adviser, “the people's palates are vitiated with strong food, and require a rest.” Archimedes-like, I ran about shouting, “I have it ! A Baby Show ! Hurrah for the babies.” Well, sir, the Baby Show was duly advertised, and in the course of events the doors were opened and everything in readiness to receive the little darlings. Alas, for the mutability of human affairs. Three prizes were to be given away, and only one baby to receive first, second and third awards. But then, sir, that one little cherubim was equal to about half-a-dozen ordinary babies; but I despair — not being a father — of conveying to you all the ‘points’ worthy of notice, but if any curious lover of babyhood wishes for further information let him or her apply to the worthy landlord of the Horse and Jockey Hotel, and — there my native and inherent modesty stops short at a puff. There being, then, but one person present to witness the grand juvenile festival (?), I followed the example of those who have gone before, and shut up shop.

“The evening's entertainment will be a grand success,” said my consolers; “for have you not a splendid bill-of-fare! A bill of fare which includes all the delicacies, and none of the indelicacies, of the season.” Conjuring, spirit manifestations, Shakesperian readings, vocal and instrumental music. Now, “isn't that a dainty dish to set before a king?” Full of hope, I went about my business and prepared for the evening's entertainment. Everything was in first-class order, and the ten thousand additional lamps all ablaze. Dramatis persona, one expectant conjuror and master of mighty major, one expert and willing pianoforte player, half a dozen negro minstrels, a like number of gentlemen amateurs ready and eager for the fray, any number of bill-stickers and others ringing bells and frightening the Isle from her propriety; and just six of an audience! “'The hospital enquiry is to-night,” said another kind consoler. “Bless the enquiry,” said I. “The hospital amateurs are practising to-night,” said another Job's comforter. “Be the hospital amateurs doubly blessed,” was my — I hope charitable — answer. In short, sir, finding that most of the people had taken "outside" tickets for my entertainment, I gave it up; as did the impecunious young villain who, being dunned by his tailor and requested to state a time when he would be able to meet his bill, replied, “I give it up ; don't ask me any conundrums.” But, sir, if all the people have — like Falstaff — purged and live cleanly, and we are to have no more cakes and ale in the land ; if a concert on St. Patrick's Night, given at St. Patrick’s Hall, can draw no more than an audience of two, then is my chaos come again; and Mother Shipton's prophecy will assuredly be fulfilled: “And the world to an end shall come in eighteen hundred and eighty-one.” And yet, sir, as I believe in no prophecy of any kind, Shiptonean or otherwise, I will venture to say that there is life in old Wangaratta yet; and “if it be not now, 'tis yet to come,” &c., &c. — I am. Sir, yours, &c., M. TOLMAQUE. Wangaratta, April 12th.

Martin probably played other dates which were too small to be mentioned in the news, but these press quotes (1) show the constant fluxes of fortune which would make any other man give up the fight.

April 28 – Herr Tolmaque had a good house at Peard’s, Moyhu, on Saturday, and gave great satisfaction … one of the most skilled phrenologists who has appeared in the Australian colonies.

May 5 – Herr Tolmaque appeared on Saturday at the Emu Hotel and was well received.

May 7 - … appeared at the hall attached to Dodd’s hotel, Whorouly. The rain … came down gently but constantly … deterring many from venturing after night-fall from their homes. This, and the shortness of the notice given, will account for the paucity of attendance … thoroughly appreciated all the conjuring tricks, which were done deftly and excited both wonder and applause … the farmers are all busy with the ploughing and sowing, and there is no idle time just now…

May 14 – Herr Tolmaque was to have given one of his entertainments at Milawa .. the rain descended in a constant downpour, so that the entertainment had to be postponed … However the professor to advantage of it being fine on Monday … a crowded house was the response … he has met with such success here that he purposes playing again on Saturday next.

June 9 – [Tarrawingee] … was advertised to give one of his wonderful entertainments … and although the weather was most propitious and plenty of bills had been put into circulation, only four persons attended. At the request of a few friends the Professor came again on Saturday last when, as if to spite him, the rain came down in torrents from early in the morning till late at night. Nevertheless an audience of about 47 … and a rare treat was the reward of their attendance.

July 14 – Professor Tolmaque is very reluctantly compelled to announce .. that all engagements must stand over for the present, owing to his very serious indisposition. Special apology to the people of Stanley and district for disappointing last Friday. (He recovered to announce a performance at North Wangaratta on the 23^rd)

August 11 – This well-known magician, phrenologist and humorist has been meeting with considerable success in his entertainments given throughout the district and … will appear in the Town Hall Rutherglen.

Based at Finch Street in Beechworth, Martin was seen into September and October around the townships, with variable audiences but always favourable remarks. At an amateur event given at Wangaratta’s Emu Hotel at the start of October, the Ovens and Murray Advertiser spoke in high praise of his elocution:

“Herr Tolmaque, who most kindly interested himself in giving publicity to the entertainment, next gave the celebrated scene from Othello, Act III, Scene iii., where, after Desdemona has sued for Michael Cassio's replacement in her husband's esteem, Iago works upon the honorable nature of the Moor, and excites in his mind the bane of many a life – “the green-eyed monster, jealousy.” Those who know the difficulty of rendering correctly this, one of the test parts of an actor's powers, can alone appreciate the manner in which the difficulty was overcome by the accomplished linguist and actor. Few actors speak Shakespearian blank verse correctly. It requires education, culture, taste and correct insight into the varied phases of the measure, and the characterisation to be portrayed, to enable the actor to vividly personify and accurately enunciate the blank verse of the immortal dramatist. Herr Tolmaque's elocution might be copied with advantage by many an English actor. By correct elocution, emphasis and varied inflections of the voice, he compelled the audience to follow and sympathise with the feelings of the naturally unsuspicious Moor. His scena met with the applause it so justly merited. Few Englishmen speak the language so correctly as Herr Tolmaque. Not once were we able to discover a mispronunciation or provincialism.”

The new year held some promise for Herr Tolmaque. In March 1882 he returned to Melbourne, starting with appearances at a People’s Concert at the Russell Street Temperance Hall, and then at the Collingwood Forester’s Hall. Then, on May 20, he opened at Hudson’s Theatre (known at other times as the Polytechnic) at the top of Bourke Street, promoting but not explaining a new feature, ‘the amusing spirit, Inferno’. The ‘Argus’ said (2), “The attendance was not so good as the merits of the performance deserved… most of the tricks introduced are very dexterously performed, though they have not the charm of any great novelty. As a conjuring entertainment, pure and simple, without any complication of scientific appliances, Herr Tolmaque’s programme is well worth seeing.” The shows were promoted as including “Magic, Mirth, Music and Mystery”, with a Juvenile Spelling Bee, and an invitation to “witness the feat of producing a theatre, scenery and one living performer, from an ordinary-sized hat.” Three weeks later he was still at Hudson’s, performing to ‘moderate houses’, which was a feat in itself; but Tolmaque was playing in direct competition with the great Harry Kellar at St. George’s Hall which says much about his relative success in this season.

Suddenly things started to go wrong. On June 7, Tolmaque appeared in the City Court as the complainant in a case of stealing, against Charles Jones, a ticket-taker working at the Hudson’s. Jones, allegedly, had pocketed three shillings without putting a corresponding check into the ticket box. Tolmaque took the opportunity to use the court-room as a stage, trying the judge’s patience to the extreme while being cross-examined, and giving speeches instead of answering questions directly. He took on himself the role of prosecutor and (4) “his style of examination was anything but brief. He indulged in such an amount of circumlocution as to almost confuse the witness, and generally after receiving an answer would rejoin, “Now mind you’re on your oath,” and tell the witness he was telling an untruth. In one instance he called a witness a liar and … Mr. Tolmaque was ordered to sit down. He thought himself a better solicitor than Mr. Fisher [defence] and on telling the latter so an appeal was made to the Bench by the learned gentleman, and consequently the esteemed complainant was made the object of a few remarks from his Worship. One witness added that he had left his seat in the theatre as the performance being given by Mr. Tolmaque was not worth sitting out. The case, from beginning to end, was of the most disorderly character that has ever been heard in the City Court, partly owing to the latitude allowed by his Worship … the case, after occupying an hour and a half, was dismissed.”

It seems that this excitement led on to the next and more serious problem, since Tolmaque would later write that “certain persons against whom I was about to proceed for perjury in connection with my late case at Hudson’s Theatre, threatened to make it ‘hot’ for me.”

In late June, Martin Beaufort Tolmaque was reported to have been arrested on a charge of obtaining goods and money by means of false pretences. The victim of this alleged fraud was Mr. William Ball, a chemist in Swanston Street. By a complete coincidence, Mr. Ball was the son-in-law of the Fakir of Oolu, having married Alfred Silvester’s daughter, Daisy; after too many years of being suspended in mid-air during the Fakir’s famous ‘Entranced Lady’ illusion, she had retired altogether from the stage.

The ‘Argus’ of June 28 reported on the court appearance two days prior:-

“At the City Court on Monday be Mr Call, P.M., and a bench of magistrate a magician and illusionist named Martin Beaufort Tolmaque, who recently gave series of entertainments at Hudson’s Theatre in Bourke Street, was brought upon remand charged with obtaining goods and money from Mr William Ball, chemist Swanston-street, by means of false pretences.

Evidence for the prosecution was that on 16^th inst. the prisoner visited Mr Ball’s shop, and stated that he had just received engagement to appear in conjunction with Lynch’s troupe of Bellringers, but was unable to do so in consequence of having a bad cold, and he asked for something to remove it. Mr Ball made him up a gargle, for which he charged 2s. 6d. and the prisoner tendered a cheque for £2 2s.on the Bank of New South Wales, purporting to be signed by Henry Lynch, which he said had been given to by the proprietor of the company of bellringers.

Witness cashed the cheque, and gave the prisoner £1 19s. 6d. in change, but when he presented it at the bank it proved to be valueless, and a warrant was subsequently issued for Tolmaque’s apprehension.

It transpired that the prisoner had not been engaged to appear with the Bellringers, that he only waited upon Mr H. Lynch, Prahran, on the 19th inst., and asked for something to do, after the cheque had by dishonoured. The cheque was dated “June 14^th ” and was made payable to Herr Tolmaque. The prisoner did not deny the facts stated, but alleged that the cheque been given to him by some unscrupulous persons in the profession who wished to him an injury, and who had threatened to ‘put him away.’

Mr. Call said that if the prisoner were an honest man he would have returned the money to Mr. Ball on discovering that the cheque was valueless, and consequently sentenced him to seven days’ imprisonment.”

The Herald of June 27 mentioned that “The prisoner made an excellent speech, and Mr. Lynch spoke in very good terms of Tolmaque, who he said so far as he knew bore a respectable name throughout the colonies. The character had its effect, and the bench took a lenient view of the offence.” It was nowhere reported whether Mr. Lynch had denied writing the cheque, but Tolmaque had his own views and wrote to the Herald (after his release) voicing what, in hindsight, may have been the first of his beliefs that he was being persecuted.

(5) AN EXPLANATION. - TO THE EDITOR OF THE HERALD

I had been negotiating such an engagement, only Mr. Lynch told me the night previous to this cheque business that he could not make an opening for me till the following week. Thinking he had changed his mind I accepted the message in good faith. It now appears the above cheque was "planted" upon me for the purpose of doing me an injury; and very effectually the person or persons who so plotted my ruin succeeded in their diabolical scheme. I have been before the public in Australia and Europe for 22 years, and my career can be traced oven from my birth, and never before has any criminal charge/been even breathed against me; and, I appeal to you, Sir, is it likely that I would deliberately ruin myself for life in the manner ascribed to me? The verdict was bound to be against me, since I failed in producing the wretch who entrapped me, and who artfully did it when no third person was present. Nevertheless, the extraordinarily light sentence, 7 days without hard labor, proves what the worthy Magistrates thought of the case. The police are well aware that certain persons against whom I was about to proceed for perjury in connection with my late case at Hudson's Theatre , threatened to make it hot for me, (I use their own language) and more than one of those persons knew that I was in treaty with Mr Lynch. In justice, I pray you to grant me the privilege of this explanation.— Yours, etc. M. TOLMAQUE. Conjuror to His Grace the Duke of Northumberland. Appointed 16th September, 1869, at Alnwick Castle, Alnwick.”

Martin may have thought that a conviction would ruin his life, but the only apparent result was that he went to ground for the remainder of the year, and when he reappeared in February 1883, it was in Bendigo (Victoria), away from Melbourne. He gave a well-attended private performance at the Shamrock Hotel, followed by a show at the St. James’ Hall, and was then engaged for the Bendigo Easter Fair on a 50/50 share, showing in a large tent close to another magician, Tregaski. The Bendigo Advertiser of March 27 was so effusive in its praise that their full review is shown here:

“We next enter the large tent adjoining Richardson's Show, occupied by the world-renowned Herr Tolmaque. When this gentleman gave his performances at St. James' Hall wo drew the attention of our readers to his style of conjuring, which is altogether different to that of any other professor of the art magique. Disdaining all mechanism or apparatus, which he says he never used or ever will use in his entertainments, he relies solely upon his wonderful skill in sleight-of-hand to amuse and mystify his audiences. There have been professors of magic who have, made greater show on and off the stage than Herr Tolmaque, but there has not been one as yet who succeeded in giving a whole evening's entertainment alone and unaided either by apparatus or assistants more or less in number. Conjurors, so called, there are plenty, and every raw amateur possessed of a few tin bricks, a magic wand, and unbounded cheek, comes before the public as a great and unrivalled professor; but such conjuring as Herr Tolmaque shows us can only be the outcome of years of practice, and a special aptitude for the business. The large tent was literally crammed with a most appreciative audience, and everybody was astonished at the professor's marvellous skill, as shown by the various tricks performed. He shows an empty hat whilst standing fairly in front of his audience, turns up his sleeves, shows the palms of both hands empty, and instantly grasping the air produces innumerable coins, shillings, sovereigns, florins, half-crowns, and oven pennies. This delightful pass-time he continues till the hat is fairly filled, then emptied, and filled again, and eventually made the repository of a large tumbler brimful of water, which in its turn vanishes, and re-appears in a gentleman's pocket, from whence it is mysteriously conveyed into another hat. Tricks with watches, oranges, handkerchiefs, etc., etc., followed, each more mysterious than the other. True, both Anderson and Heller, as well as Jacobs and others, have performed similar feats, but those gentlemen had elaborate apparatus and assistants to help them, whereas Tolmaque is entirely unaided, except by his own marvellous dexterity and almost superhuman skill. As a phrenologist, too, he occupies a front rank. He read the head of a gentleman well-known in Sandhurst, and received the compliments of the aforesaid gentleman and his friends for the accuracy of the delineation. Judging from the manner in which he read the various heads at each entertainment yesterday, we believe Herr Tolmaque to be a most conscientious phrenologist, and one who will not hide a person's faults, or unduly flatter his good qualities. Altogether the presence of so genuine and legitimate a treat as the professor's performance reflects the greatest credit on the committee and management of the Easter Fair. During the day Herr Tolmaque was well patronised, and from the commencement of each entertainment (of about twenty minutes duration) his audiences were kept in a state of profound wonderment. Should he be so liberally patronised to-day and to-morrow, the committee will receive a good amount from the show.”

After a single performance at Elmore, near Bendigo, in May, Martin drops from sight once more, until the start of November 1883. He had now crossed the Tasman Strait and landed on the North coast of Tasmania where, up to the end of the year he toured the coastal towns around Penguin and the Leven region, advertising some unconfirmed and wide-ranging visits to Emu Bay, Table Cape, and Waratah, finishing up inland at Cressy. He was bound for Launceston, where his entire life would start to unravel in the most dramatic fashion.

(1) Ovens and Murray Advertiser (Beechworth) April 28, May 5, May 7, May 14, June 9, July 14, August 11.

(2) Melbourne Argus, May 22, 1882.

(3) Ovens and Murray Advertiser, June 15, 1882 p.5

(4) The Lynch family, headed by Henry Lynch, were popular performers of handbell-ringing and other musical novelties. They were giving concerts in Melbourne at the time of the court case.

(5) The Herald, Melbourne, July 5, 1882.