Chapter 6
The Vibraphonic Bellows Era (1820
to 1829)
The 1820s were a period of great advancement in the arts and sciences
in Europe.
Beethoven composed his Ninth Symphony and James Fenimore Cooper wrote
"The Last of the Mohicans". Clausewitz authored "On War" and Noah Webster
compiled his Dictionary of the American Language. The physical sciences
were advanced by the likes of James Faraday who liquefied chlorine and
isolated benzene. Nicolas Carnot wrote theories of thermodynamics and
Joseph Russell invented the ships screw propeller. Perhaps most important
of all - both in the history of European civilization and the life of
Michael Flannigan - the 1820s was the decade that gave the world the
accordion.
 |
| The Sultana of Khabstakan, a "stiffy juice" aficionado,
did not expect or appreciate Flannigan's blown chunks. |
Flannigan's unceremonious ejection from the Court
of King George - and indeed the British Isles - was to lead to months
of aimless wandering across the continent. Flannigan found himself unwanted
among polite company as news of the infamous seal penis incident tended
to precede him wherever he went. It was only in the Far East,
in the shadow of the Hindu Kush, that Flannigan
was able to escape his reputation. It was here that he gained temporary
refuge, as well as gainful employment, from the court of the Sultana
of Khabstakan. A man of diverse tastes and sophistication, not to mention
being an able warlord who had effectively done away with his rivals,
the Sultana hired Flannigan as his court engineer. His real purpose,
however, was to elicit from the intrepid Irishman his rumoured elixir
of perpetual readiness. To keep his employer happy - and to keep his
head attached to his shoulders - Flannigan decided to go ahead with
the preparation of a small batch of stiffy juice. Fortunately, he was
able to secure a small quantity of powdered seal penis from a traveling
Chinese apothecary.
It was soon after, at a formal dinner, that the Sultana elected to
try the Flannigan concoction. The main course for that evening was an
odd roast. It looked a bit like a large wet cigar with a leathery exterior
that could only be cut with the sharpest of knives. Flannigan had been
invited by the Sultana to join him at his table and to partake of the
meal. He ate heartily though he feared the meat, what ever it was, would
not agree with him. The moment of truth came as the Sultana ordered
a glass of Flannigan's elixir. Fearing a repeat of the incident with
the British monarch, Flannigan decided to face the issue head on.
"You realize, Sire," he said as he choked down another chunk of the
odd meat. "You are consuming seal penis."
The Sultana laughed. "Of course, Master Flannigan," he said cheerfully.
"Everybody knows the powers of the penis in these matters. You realize,
of course, that you are consuming whale dork."
Flannigan paused chewing, vainly tried to swallow, but it was no use.
He could not hope to stem the oncoming gush. Holding a kerchief in front
of his face turned out to be as effective as trying to stop a dam break
with a bed sheet. Unfortunately, the Sultana was seated directly across
from Flannigan.
It is a wonder, really, that Flannigan's life did not end at that point.
Perhaps it was because, in spite of it all, the Sultana retired to his
tent that night and had a rather pleasant and prolonged evening with
several of his wives. Regardless of the reason, Flannigan suffered
only banishment from the Sultanate. He hurriedly left the region, not
even stopping to wonder how a land-locked country managed to secure
a supply of fresh whale dork. Having been shamed now on the Western
and Eastern ends of the continent, Flannigan resolved to swear off sexual
devices and elixirs, at least for a while, and make a penitent's pilgrimage
to Rome.
Fortunately, penises were not the only things Michael Flannigan had
played with during the previous decade. His mind, fevered with the fire
of invention, was always toying with concepts and notions that would
suddenly combine into brilliant ideas. Flannigan had always been impressed
by the military use of the Scottish pipes. The distinctive scree of
the pipes struck fear into the enemy and announced that the Highland
regiments were upon the field of battle. It had also struck Flannigan
that the pipes, while impressive, were somewhat inefficient. They required
the arms, hands and mouth to operate. While the pipes' air bladder was
somewhat helpful, the player nonetheless couldn't achieve the oral freedom
to issue a bloodcurdling battle cry. It was in 1823, while witnessing
a benediction by the new Pope Leo XII at St Peter's in Rome,
that Flannigan hit upon the idea. Barely pausing to bless himself he
rushed from St. Peter's square and boarded a train to the country. Working
in a small villa near Naples,
Flannigan perfected his device, the Vibraphonic Bellows. It consisted
of a bellows framed on two sides by handheld clap boards. When the boards
were forced together, air from the bellows flowed through reed and pipe.
The operator could depress keys on the device to change the tone emitted.
Flannigan based his invention on an instrument called the Cheng which
he had seen Chinese coolies play during his Royal Navy days.
"There," Flannigan said triumphantly. "That aughta' scare the bejayzes
out of them."
From Italy,
Flannigan embarked on a whirlwind tour of Europe,
demonstrating the utility of his new device and the contribution it
would make to martial music. In Vienna
he was granted an audience with the Ludwig Van Beethoven. The great
composer sat quietly while Flannigan demonstrated the rousing abilities
of his device. He then stood up, muttered something in German, and left
the room. "Not loud enough" was apparently Beethoven's terse comment.
Undaunted, Flannigan took his invention to every imperial court, capitals,
and military compound on the continent. His demonstrations grew increasingly
theatrical. For the Imperial Austrian Army, he staged a full charge,
screaming through the halls of Ausengaud Castle
in full military dress, screaming at the top of his lungs while playing
a jaunty tune on his instrument. The Austrians had him removed from
the premises.
Flannigan tried to elicit the help of professional musicians in his
demonstrations. This turned out to be a complete disaster. In spite
of strict instructions that the musicians should enunciate blood curdling
whoops and hollers and the "extras" should march in line abreast, this
rarely happened. In fact, an odd phenomenon was noted by Flannigan in
his journal:
Warsaw, February 10, 1824 In spite of all my exhortations the
musicians did not scream and the extras did not march or charge. Instead,
there was chaos with the musicians chanting the nonsense phrase EE-EYE-EE-EYE-EE-EYE-YO
and the extras merrily dancing in a circle. Jesus, Mary and Joseph!
Why do they keep doing that? Here in the eastern provinces they find
it all quite entertaining. Damn!
Flannigan's tribulations were only further aggravated by a patent controversy.
In 1822 the German Hans Buschmann added bellows and button keys to a
free reed instrument of his invention. The result he called the "Handaeoline".
This instrument, not the Vibraphonic Bellows, is considered to
be the forbearer of the modern accordion. Since it was invented a year
before Flannigan's device, that appellation is probably correct. The
"Handaeoline" had numerous descendants and spread around the world,
from the Australian outback to the bayou country of the American south.
Flannigan's device, on the other hand, was never more than a prototype.
His grand "demonstrations" became a mere historical footnotes usually filed under "So Silly:
Probably Didn't Happen".
--"Scholarship" by Thuder
Next: Zanzibar's Freak Festival
Notes:
1) Michael Flannigan was not the only inventor of the period interested
in the military application of musical instruments. At left, inventor
Wally "Lips" McCoy demonstrates his "Flight Horn", a bugle specially
designed for retreating armies. McCoy was shot in the back during the
retreat from Lima during the war of Peruvian independence.
2) Flannigan's dream of a martial role for accordion players was to
see the light of day briefly during the American Civil War with the
raising of the First Illinois Accordion Battalion. Unfortunately, a
single volley of Confederate musketry at the Battle of Fredericksburg
felled the entire unit.
|
![ecrc logo [link to homepage]](../../images/logo_duo_med.jpg){kind=logo}