Of all Bristol’s daredevils, Charlie Stephens, the fearless barber of West Street, Bedminster was the greatest.

Borrowed from Byegone Bedminster:

Of all Bristol’s daredevils, Charlie Stephens, the fearless barber of West Street, Bedminster was the greatest.

Charlie was determined to pull off the greatest stunt of all. He was going to ride the Niagara Falls in a barrel.

40-year-old: American, Kirk Jones, became the first person to survive without protection or survival gear of any kind by jumping over the Niagara Falls, and a 167 foot plunge below. He apparently climbed over a safety barricade, slid down rocks, stepped into the river and then disappeared from view for about four minutes. Horrified onlookers say that he went down head first. At the bottom of the falls he swam to the shore with seemingly no more injuries than a little bruising. Police said that he would be charged with illegally performing a stunt and could face Ones of up to £7,000.

The Niagara river rushes over the falls a great tourist attraction at 150,000 gallons per second and smashes down into a dangerous, rock-strewn gorge. But despite the perils the falls have always attracted foolhardy daredevils. The first person to go over and live to tell her story was 50 year-old woman, Minnie Taylor, in 1901. She went over in a barrel. Since then 14 other people have gone over, all of them in containers or barrels and 10 of them have lived to tell the tale.

Stuntman Charlie Stephens from Bedminster, Bristol was one of the unlucky ones. Having reached the age of 58 Charlie had led a charmed life. At the age of five he had succumbed to a mysterious illness and, pronounced dead, was placed in a coffin. But a doctor, making one last examination of the little lad before writing out a death certificate, was shocked to suddenly find the boy looking straight up at him.

To everyone's amazement Charlie had come back from the dead. At 16, while working in a South Wales coal mine, he was nearly knocked down by a runaway truck. It was then that he discovered that, unlike other men, he felt no real fear of danger. Charlie then decided to take up a new life as Professor Stephens professional stunt man.

But then, in 1914, the First World War broke out and the former miner found himself fighting in the trenches. Here, his charmed life continued, and he survived the horrors of bullets and mud for an incredible three and a half years. The average life span for a Tommy going over the top, he was told, was just twenty minutes.

Charlie came home a war hero and he had the medals to prove it! Back in his new life as a stuntman the 'Professor' continued to amuse and amaze. He entered a lions' den and dared to give one a kiss. He even held a boxing match in the cage while the beasts were prowling about. He stood against a board whilst knives thrown at him and even had a swordsman cut an apple in two while it was balanced on his throat. He made daring parachute descents from balloons wearing a distinctive red coat.

Charlie's wife Anne not content to let her husband have all the glory got a certificate for going up to 5,000 feet in a balloon, quite a feat in those days. No stunt was too dangerous, even in real life. He became a hero after rescuing a suicidal woman from a railway track.

The oncoming train was so close to her that it ripped the skirt from her body just as Charlie snatched her from the jaws of death, he jumped off the Forth Bridge and allowed sharpshooters to shoot sugar cubes off his head. But his most famous escapade of the man who said that he could shave a man in just three seconds, was to do it in a cage full of lions.

This stunt took place at Bristol's Coliseum in Park Row and earned him the nickname, 'The Demon Barber'. No doubt the publicity it generated helped to pull in yet more customers to his Bedminster barbers shop. But his most daring challenge was yet to come.

'Will the man who has bearded the lion in his den baulk at the puny currents of Niagara?' he asked, whilst announcing his intention to go over the famous falls in a wooden barrel. The year was 1920 and two other daredevils had already gone over the falls and survived. So would Charlie, or so he thought The barrel was to be no ordinary one from a brewery Made to Charlie's specifications by a Bath cooper it was constructed of two inch thick Russian oak. It was six feet and two inches high and was encircled by 10 steel hoops. It weighed 600 pounds, and was weighted by a blacksmith's anvil and lead to help keep it upright in the water.

The inside was padded and equipped with a harness to hold him secure. It also contained an oxygen tank and mask and lights which would work for up to eight hours. lt wasn't cheap-after all his life would depend on it - and cost the stuntman well over £20.

Ever the showman, Charlie put the barrel on display at the Empire Theatre in Old Market and charged the public to come and inspect it. He also negotiated with a film company to record the stunt for posterity. Bobby Leach, an English stuntman who had already gone over the falls in a steel drum, tried to warn him of the danger, but Charlie brushed aside his warnings. They were just prompted by jealousy, he said. The day earmarked for the event was Sunday, July 11 and it was very quiet at the falls.

That suited Charlie as he didn't want anyone interfering and possibly stopping him at the last moment. The barrel had been painted with black and white stripes so that it would show up on film, and Charlie climbed in. A letter to his family - he had eleven children - read: 'I am not wishing you goodbye but only so long until Sunday. What a day that will be.'

He started his journey about two miles above the falls. After a few minutes it looked as if a hoop had snagged off the barrel but by now it was too late to abort its journey. The barrel soon went over the cliff and disappeared. Unknown to the spectators, which now numbered at least 200, the over-weighted-barrel had dropped, not into the raging waters under the falls, but onto the jagged rocks.

Neither Stephen's or his barrel were not seen for hours and the situation looked hopeless. Then someone shouted that they could see something but it turned out to be a broken black stave. Hours later more debris was washed ashore and carried off by spectators keen to have a souvenir of the tragedy. Eventually a telegram which the family say never arrived was flashed back to Bristol, 'Professor Stephens lost his life, in an attempt to go over falls in barrel'.

The next morning his right arm was plucked from the water. On it was a tattoo which said, 'Forget me not Annie'. Some time later a rib was found. What was left of the stuntman's body was buried in an unmarked local grave. The £20 burial costs were all that the film company ever paid his family. But the tragedy wasn't going to deter others, and within a month of the Demon Barber's death, 19 other people had applied for permission to go over the falls in barrels.

The final word must go to his daughter Viola Cogan, who herself rode a motorbike until she was 76 years old. She told me in 1988: 'I get very cross if anyone says anything funny about him. He wasn't crazy and he wasn't a demon. He was a daredevil and there is a difference.'