Year: 1874

From the Boston Post.


One of the most striking of the ma
ny novelties now being shown at the
Boston Theater, and indeed one of
the most wonderful performances
that have recently taken place in the
city, is that which is nightly present
ed at that place of amusement to au-
diences that invariably attest their as
tonishment and satisfaction by tho
most generous applause. Sword
swallowing to the general public has
ordinarily but few attractions, save
to such as from a morbid taste for
the tragic enjoy the prospect of see
ing man spitted by his own hand.
The character of the performers in
these shows, together with their sur
roundings, is too often such that the
better class Of amusement seekers
avoid them entirely. That the call
ing might be made not only artistic


but popular, and that even ladies
could find in the exhibition much to
amuse and nothing to shock them,
has been left to,Sig. Carlo Benedict,
who is announced as "the mystery of
the medical profession" to prove.
Sig. Benedict has exhibited his won-
derful powers less than half a dozen
times in this city, but from the first
he dispelled the illusion cherished by
many that his performance was the
result Of trickery, and each appear
aiYce but serves to add to the interest
felt in what he does. His entrance
to the stage is unmarked by any clap


trap arrangements; there are no
tights, no spangles, no tricks of make
up and appareling to dazzle the eyes
or distract the fancy; pleasing, gen
tlemanly appearing man, young in
years and easy in motions, is what
the audience beholds. He comes
bowling and smiling almost down to
the foot-lights, lightly balancing a
heavy cavalry sabre, with glittering
blade thirty inches in length, in his
right hand. Another graceful bow
and the murderous weapon is left
standing upright, its sharp point bur
led deep in the floor, and the perfor-
mer turns his eye toward a small ta-
BILE at the back of the stage upon
which appear half dozen or more
long shining rapiers, while a Spring
field musket, tipped with a regulation
bayonet, leans against the scene be-
side it. An attendant brings forward
one of those strips of steel, cross-hilt-
ed like crusaders sword, and Sig
nor Benedict takes it with smile,
as complacent as if it were an en-
chanter's wand. The blade is thin
and about an inch in width, and on
the whole the weapon would hardly
be calculated to strike terror to the
heart Of an adversary; but as the per-
former slightly elevates his smooth
ly-shaven chin, and, lifting his brown
mustache with half-open-mouthcd
smile, inserts the point Of the rapier
between his teeth, II shudder of ap-
prehension passes over the nervous
ones in the audience. 1t is without
cause, however, for Signor Benedict,
still smiling at vacancy, removes all
support from the sword, and then,
gently tapping his right hand near
the second button Of his waistcoat,
the polished blade disappears down
his throat until twenty-thrcc inches
of steel are hidden from view, and
the hilt alone remains in sight. lie
then gracefully bows to the audience,
sways the upper part Of his body to
each, side with as little apparent in
convenience as if he had only insert
ed a pipestcm between his lips, and
ends this part Of the scene by sharp
ly bending his neck forward, while
his body remains in an upright posi-
ton, thhs forcing the untcmpered
metal into the form of a syphon. In