Famous Imposters 28

Famous Imposters 28

E. THE MARRIAGE HOAX

 

Hoaxes are sometimes malicious, and often cruel, as the following

instance will show: A young couple were about to be married in

Birmingham when those officiating--it was a Jewish wedding--were

startled by the delivery of a telegram from London with the message:

“Stop marriage at once. His wife and children have arrived in London

and will come on to Birmingham.” The bride fainted and the bridegroom

was frantically perturbed at thus summarily being provided with a

wife and family. But it was useless; the unhappy man had to make the

best of his way through an exasperated crowd full of sympathy for the

wronged girl. Inquiry, however, showed her friends that the whole thing

was a hoax--possibly worked by some revengeful rival of the man whose

happiness had been so unexpectedly deferred.

 

 

F. BURIED TREASURE

 

Most people have heard of the “Spanish Treasure swindle” and, though

less elaborate than the original, a variation of it practised on a

French merchant was rather “cute.” One morning he received an anonymous

communication advising him that a box of treasure was buried in his

garden the exact position of which would be pointed out to him, if

he agreed to divide the spoil. He rose at once to the bait, met his

generous informant, and before long the pair were merrily at work

with pickaxe and shovel. Sure enough before long their exertions

were awarded by the unearthing of a box full of silver coins. The

hoard proved to consist of sixteen hundred five-franc pieces; and

the delighted merchant, after carefully counting them out into two

piles, offered one lot to his partner as his share. That worthy, after

contemplating the heap for a minute or two, observed that it would

be rather a heavy load to carry to the railway station, and said he

would prefer, if it could be managed, to have the amount in gold or

notes. “Certainly, certainly!” was the reply. The two men walked up to

the house and the business was settled to their mutual satisfaction.

Twenty-four hours later, the merchant took a very different view of

the transaction; for examination discovered there was not one genuine

five-franc piece among the whole lot.

 

 

G. DEAN SWIFT’S HOAX

 

One of the most beautiful hoaxes ever perpetrated was one for which

Swift was responsible. He caused a broad-sheet to be printed and

circulated which purported to be the “last dying speech” of one

Elliston, a street robber, in which the condemned thief was made to

say: “Now as I am a dying man, I have done something which may be of

use to the public. I have left with an honest man--the only honest man

I was ever acquainted with--the names of all my wicked brethren, the

places of their abode, with a short account of the chief crimes they

have committed, in many of which I have been their accomplice, and

heard the rest from their own mouths. I have likewise set down names of

those we call our setters, of the wicked houses we frequent, and all

of those who receive and buy our stolen goods. I have solemnly charged

this honest man, and have received his promise upon oath, that whenever

he hears of any rogue to be tried for robbery or housebreaking, he

will look into his list, and if he finds the name there of the thief

concerned, to send the whole paper to the Government. Of this I here

give my companions fair and public warning, and hope they will take

it.” So successful, we are told, was the Dean’s ruse that, for many

years afterwards, street robberies were almost unknown.

 

 

H. HOAXED BURGLARS

 

The above ingenious device recalls another occasion when some gentlemen

who made burglary their profession, and who had been paying a midnight

visit to the house of a Hull tradesman were sadly “sold.” They found

the cash-box lying handy, and, to their delight, weighty; so heavy

indeed that they did not stay to help themselves to anything further.

Next morning the cash-box was found not far from the shop and its

contents in an ash-pit close by. After all the trouble they had taken,

to say nothing of the risks they had run, the burglars found their

prize consisted only of a lump of lead, and that their intended victim

had been too artful for them.

 

 

I. BOGUS SAUSAGES

 

As an example of how a dishonest penny may be turned the following

incident would be hard to beat.

 

Two weary porters at the King’s Cross terminus of the Great Northern

Railway were thinking about going home, when a breathless,

simple-looking countryman rushed up to them with anxious enquiries for

a certain train. It had gone. He was crushed. “Whatever was he to do?

He had been sent up from Cambridge with a big hamper of those sausages

for which the University town is celebrated--a very special order. Was

there no other train?” “No.” The poor fellow seemed overwhelmed. “As

it is too late to find another market,” he complained, “the whole lot

will be lost.” Then a happy thought seemed to strike him as more of

the railway men gathered round, and he inquired ingratiatingly, “Would

you care to buy the sausages; if you would, you could have them for

fourpence a pound? If I keep them, they will probably go bad before

I can dispose of them.” The idea took--“Real Cambridge Sausages” at

fourpence a pound was not to be sneezed at. The dainties, neatly packed

in pounds, went like the proverbial hot cakes. Shouldering the empty

basket, and bidding his customers a kindly goodnight, the yokel set

off to find a humble lodging for the night. Grateful smiles greeted

the purchasers when they got home. Frying pans were got out and the

sausages were popped in, and never was such a sizzling heard in the

railway houses--or rather never should such a sizzling have been heard.

But somehow they didn’t sizzle. “They are uncommon dry; seem to have

no fat in ’em,” said the puzzled cook. They were dry, very dry, for

closer investigation showed that the “prime Cambridge” were nothing

but skins stuffed with dry bread! The railway staff of King’s Cross

were long anxious to meet that simple countryman from Cambridge.

 

 

J. THE MOON HOAX

 

One of the most stupendous hoaxes, and one foisted on the credulity of

the public with the most complete success, was the famous Moon Hoax

which was published in the pages of the New York _Sun_ in 1835. It

purported to be an account of the great astronomical discoveries of

Sir John Herschel at the Cape of Good Hope, through the medium of a

mighty telescope, a single lens of which weighed nearly seven tons.

It was stated to be reproduced from the Supplement to the Edinburgh

_Journal of Science_, though as a matter of fact, the _Journal_ had

then been defunct some years. In graphic language, and with a wealth

of picturesque detail, the wonders of the Moon as revealed to the

great astronomer and his assistants were set forth. A great inland

sea was observed, and “fairer shores never angel coasted on a tour

of pleasure.” The beach was “of brilliant white sand, girt with wild

castellated rocks apparently of green marble, varied at chasms,

occurring every two hundred feet, with grotesque blocks of chalk or

gypsum, and feathered and festooned at the summit with the clustering

foliage of unknown trees.” There were hills of amethysts “of a diluted

claret colour”; mountains fringed with virgin gold; herds of brown

quadrupeds resembling diminutive bison fitted with a sort of “hairy

veil” to protect their eyes from the extremes of light and darkness;

strange monsters--a combination of unicorn and goat; pelicans, cranes,

strange amphibious creatures, and a remarkable biped beaver. The last

was said to resemble the beaver of the earth excepting that it had

no tail and walked only upon its two feet. It carried its young in

its arms like a human-being, and its huts were constructed better and

higher than those of many savage tribes; and, from the smoke, there was

no doubt it was acquainted with the use of fire. Another remarkable

animal observed, was described as having an amazingly long neck, a head

like a sheep, bearing two spiral horns, a body like a deer, but with

its fore-legs disproportionately long as also its tail which was very

bushy and of a snowy whiteness, curling high over its rump and hanging

two or three feet by its side.

 

But even these marvels fade into insignificance compared with the

discovery of the lunarian men “four feet in height, covered, except

on the face, with short and glossy copper-coloured hair, with wings

composed of a thin membrane.” “In general symmetry they were infinitely

superior to the orang-outang”--which statement could hardly have

been regarded as complimentary; and, though described as “doubtless

innocent and happy creatures,” the praise was rather discounted by

the mention that some of their amusements would “but ill comport with

our terrestrial notions of decorum.” In the “Vale of the Triads,”

with beautiful temples built of polished sapphire, a superior race of

the punariant were found, “eminently happy and even polite,” eating

gourds and red cucumbers; and further afield yet another race of the

vespertilio-homo, or man-bat, were seen through the wonderful telescope

of “infinitely greater personal beauty ... scarcely less lovely than

the general representation of angels.”

 

Such were a few of the marvels told of in the Moon story; and, though

one may laugh at them as they stand, shorn of their clever verbiage and

quasi-scientific detail, at the time of publication they were seriously

accepted, for the popular mind, even among the educated classes, was

then imbued with the fanciful anticipators of vast lunar discoveries

heralded in the astronomical writings of Thomas Dick, LL.D., of the

Union College of New York. Scarcely anything could have been brought

forward too extravagant for the general credulity on the subject then

prevailing; and this well-timed satire, “out-heroding Herod” in its

imaginative creations, supplied to satiety the morbid appetite for

scientific wonders then raging. By its plausible display of scientific

erudition it successfully duped, with few exceptions, the whole

civilised world.

 

At the time, the hoax was very generally attributed to a French

astronomer, M. Nicollet, a legitimist who fled to America in 1830. He

was said to have written it with the twofold object of raising the

wind, and of “taking in” Arago, a rival astronomer. But its real author

was subsequently found to be Richard Adams Locke, who declared that

his original intention was to satirise the extravagances of Dick’s

writings, and to make certain suggestions which he had some diffidence

in putting forward seriously. Whatever may have been his object, the

work, as a hit, was unrivalled. For months the press of America and

Europe teemed with the subject; the account was printed and published

in many languages and superbly illustrated. But, finally, Sir John

Herschel’s signed denial gave the mad story its quietus.