The MAntle of MAgic
By William Pack | Magician, Historian, and Educator, https://libraryprogramming.com/
Kellar's Successor, Strobridge Lithographing Co. , 1908The most important point in Thurston's career was his contract with Harry Kellar— an act of business that virtually guaranteed that he would become America's greatest magician. It was a first in magic history. A performer can't really choose their rivals or their successors. It is the public's choice. This was a calculated risk for both magicians.
Kellar had long hinted at his retirement. He and Thurston exchanged many letters about working together while Thurston was performing abroad. At the time, Thurston was, once again, dead broke and at the start of a lengthy foreign tour. Kellar was traveling with Paul Valadon introducing him to America as his apparent heir. But by 1907, something had soured the relationship.
It could have been Kellar's wife. She disliked Valadon and really disliked his wife. It could have been his taste for drunken arguments with Mrs. Kellar, who was equally inebriated and combative.
For years, Thurston tried to produce a big show, and for years, he often found himself in debt or back working vaudeville. The vaudeville circuits had provided a false sense of security for many performers. If you had a novel twelve-minute act, you'd work—for a while. Ultimately, you needed to create a new novelty, and then another, and then another. Houdini, perhaps the biggest magic star in vaudeville, anticipated that handcuff escapes were a short-term novelty. He was ambitious enough to keep expanding his act, adding novel challenges and headline-grabbing stunts. By 1907, he had become one of vaudeville's genuine stars. Thurston's answer to escape vaudeville was to create a big show and perform in legitimate theaters. Kellar was key to his future.
In May of 1907, they met for dinner and made an instant connection. They had a similar hardscrabble childhood. Ultimately, the decision to anoint probably came down to money. Valadon wanted to pay for the show in installments, while Thurston, flush from his tour and with cash from his brother Harry, had a check in hand.
Thurston's answer to escape vaudeville
was to create a big show
and perform in legitimate theaters.
Kellar was key to his future.
The contract was dated June 8, 1907, and the fee was $7,000 (over $230,000 today) for all the illusions, props, and scenery. Thurston would be paid $150 (about $4900 today) a week to work the next season's tour with Kellar. Thurston would take full possession of the show at the end of the season, June 1908.
Kellar would tour one final season, splitting the performance with Thurston and introducing him as his only successor.
Magicians didn't think that the partnership would last. They considered Kellar a wily old showman and Thurston a bland, inexperienced vaudeville act. No magician appreciated Kellar's determination and Thurston's vast experience, which had been earned in tours of Australia and the far east. By the time they joined forces, both men were determined to make it work. It wouldn't be easy—two strong egos, each with their own way of doing things. At times, Thurston chaffed at Kellar's desire to control the show. Kellar was used to being the boss.
Thurston and Kellar came to admire each other. One afternoon at Chicago's McVicker's Theater, as the magicians arrived at the stage door, Thurston suddenly remembered something. He led Kellar down the alley, examining the long expanse of dirty bricks. Thurston located the faint scratches of two initials: HT. He explained to Kellar that twenty-three years earlier, he had been working as a newsboy waiting for the bundled first editions of the Chicago Tribune in that alley. He vowed, one day, to perform on McVicker's stage and scratched his initials on the side of the building. Thurston might as well have been describing a chapter from Kellar's own childhood.
Kellar and Thurston performed their last engagement together at Ford's Opera House in Baltimore on May 16, 1908. At the show's finish, Kellar threw his arm around Thurston's shoulder and walked him forward. He thanked his public for their support and briefly recalled his 45-year career. Kellar turned to look at his successor, and his voice cracked. Kellar paused and then solemnly handed over his wand to Thurston with a deep bow—the symbol of the magic being passed from one generation to the next. The band played "Auld Lang Syne," and ushers rushed down the aisles with wreaths of roses. The audience stood as a group and sang. Kellar wiped his eyes. Thurston turned away, surprised to find that he, too, was wiping away tears. He stepped back, allowing the old master to indulge in one final bow at the footlights, and the curtain fell.
The next day, they took a train back to Philadelphia. Kellar and Thurston sat and talked. After the warm reception of the previous night, Kellar was saddened to think about the end of his career. He had worked hard over every one of his illusions. He spoke fondly of each piece of apparatus, every routine, the careful string of words that had been refined for the introductions, and the sequence of maneuvers. They were the children that Kellar had never had. "He was the kindliest and biggest hearted man I ever knew," Thurston said. "Kellar was the last of the old-school magicians."
There is no unbroken line of succession. The passing of Kellar's 'Mantle of Magic" began and ended with Thurston. There are claims that Thurston made plans to pass the Mantle to MacDonald Birch, but Thurston eventually died in 1936 before naming anyone. In 1940, when Dante returned to America, many press releases and newspapers claimed him as the successor to Thurston. Alternatively, Harry Blackstone Sr. had a strong argument that he was already America's choice and the public's choice was all that mattered. Later, magician Lee Grabel claimed that in 1954, Dante was in the process of naming Grabel the next to wear the Mantle. Dante died in 1955 without announcing such. On May 12, 1994, Lee Grabel passed his "Mantle" on to Lance Burton at a black-tie affair.
