C.A. Newmann (1880-1952), was one of America’s greatest hypnotists and mentalists. He humbly appeared as “Newmann the Great.” Here for the first, and probably last time, we feature a throwing card bearing his advertising.
Newmann first started performing hypnotism and mind-reading at age 13 billing himself as a “Boy Wonder.” He confined his work primarily to the mid- and upper-Midwest. Although he presented primarily mind-reading and related arts, he was not above offering magic illusions in his show. To publicize his show he frequently performed blindfold drives through the town where he was appearing. These were the days of horse and carriage, of course, and it must have been an amazing sight to see him racing through town while blindfolded.
As magic historians know, Newmann amassed a wonderful collection of magic and an extensive library. He boasted that it was the largest in America but the problem was that because of his touring and itinerant lifestyle, Newmann did not have anywhere to permanently display his entire library.
However he did once secure an empty store and for one brief period, had shelves built, and then filled them with books and rare manuscripts and adorned the walls and columns of the room with posters and broadsides. I have seen photographs of that temporary library and they are impressive.
His friend Howard Thurston acclaimed him one of the greatest of all mentalists. Magician, author, and magic columnist John Northern Hilliard was also amazed at Newmann's incredible feats, declaring him a true artist.
He even eventually ended up teaching classes in psychology at colleges in Minnesota and North Dakota. According to Magicpedia, as late as 1950, Newmann was still appearing in the major auditoriums in Montana and adjacent states. By that time he had been performing continuously before the public for over a half century.
Prior to his death, as well as afterward, Newmann’s library was scattered about. Some 1,000 volumes were given to the library at the University of Minnesota. Collector David Price acquired Newmann’s posters for his Egyptian Hall museum and several of Newmann's scrapbooks are in the Carl W. Jones collection at Princeton University.
My friend, the late Frank Dailey and I spent considerable time looking over the two scrapbooks at Princeton’s Firestone Library and I was able to photograph a great number of pages. In fact, I lectured on the scrapbooks at a Magic Collectors’ Association weekend back in the 1980s. Newmann died in Minneapolis and his funeral services were conducted by Carl Waring Jones.
And so, why is this Newmann scaling card so rare? Is it one-of-a-kind? Well, yes – sort of. The card was acquired in a larger collection of scaling cards and the previous owner occasionally created scaling cards by pasting some image or advertising on a regular playing card. Such is the case with this card. Running a fingernail across the face of the card, it is clear that he glued on a piece of Newmann promotional material.
Still, it’s a fun card and image and I’ll not be tossing it out. So, fellow enthusiasts, did Newmann have a real throwing card? If so, post it on our site. Here are a sample of some images from Newmann’s scrapbooks at Princeton. You will see that for most performers Newmann wrote up a short item of interest. Every description was flattering to the performer. One scrapbook was devoted to magicians, the other to mentalists. Enjoy!
Tom Ewing
-- Postscript by Judge Brown --
Tom, I too have a "sort of" Newmann throwing card. Like you, I got this from an avid throwing card collector. It's an odd piece -- about the size of a playing card, with two rounded corners and two square corners. And it does seem to have been cut from something else-- and not too carefully. But the typescript "With Compliments...." and address have clearly been added with a typewriter, to turn it into an effective business card. So my presumption is that this piece was created by Newmann himself.
I had always assumed that the improvised nature of this piece showed Newmann -- who was once a major star -- having hit hard times. He was, after all, hand typing his cards! But at the last NEMCA conference in 2016, I met a collector-historian who specializes in studying Newmann. He assured me, with a laugh, that I was wrong. The card I own, he advised, does not show economic desperation. Rather, he told me that the piece was typical for Newmann, whom he described as extraordinarily eccentric and parsimonious.
