<h3 class="chapterhead"><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></SPAN>CHAPTER XXXII.</h3>
<p class="titlepage">THE MOON-HOAX.</p>
<p>The most stupendous scientific imposition upon the public that the
generation with which we are numbered has known, was the so-called
“Moon-Hoax,” published in the columns of the “New York Sun,” in the
months of August and September, 1835. The sensation created by this
immense imposture, not only throughout the United States, but in every
part of the civilized world, and the consummate ability with which it
was written, will render it interesting so long as our language shall
endure; and, indeed, astronomical science has actually been indebted to
it for many most valuable hints—a circumstance that gives the
production a still higher claim to immortality.</p>
<p>At the period when the wonderful “yarn” to which I allude first
appeared, the science of astronomy was engaging particular attention,
and all works on the subject were eagerly bought up and studied by
immense masses of people. The real discoveries of the younger Herschel,
whose fame seemed destined to eclipse that of the elder sage of the same
name, and the eloquent startling works of Dr. Dick, which the Harpers
were republishing, in popular form, from the English edition, did much
to increase and keep up this peculiar mania of the time, until the whole
community at last were literally occupied with but little else than
“star-gazing.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_260" id="Page_260"></SPAN></span>” Dick’s works on “The Sidereal Heavens,” “Celestial
Scenery,” “The improvement of Society,” etc., were read with the utmost
avidity by rich and poor, old and young, in season and out of season.
They were quoted in the parlor, at the table, on the promenade, at
church, and even in the bedroom, until it absolutely seemed as though
the whole community had “Dick” upon the brain. To the highly educated
and imaginative portion of our good Gothamite population, the Doctor’s
glowing periods, full of the grandest speculations as to the starry
worlds around us, their wondrous magnificence and ever-varying aspects
of beauty and happiness were inexpressibly fascinating. The author’s
well-reasoned conjectures as to the majesty and beauty of their
landscapes, the fertility and diversity of their soil, and the exalted
intelligence and comeliness of their inhabitants, found hosts of
believers; and nothing else formed the staple of conversation, until the
beaux and belles, and dealers in small talk generally, began to grumble,
and openly express their wishes that the Dickens had Doctor Dick and all
his works.</p>
<p>It was at the very height of the furor above mentioned, that one morning
the readers of the “Sun”—at that time only twenty-five hundred in
number—were thrilled with the announcement in its columns of certain
“Great Astronomical Discoveries Lately Made by Sir John Herschel, LL.D.,
F.R.S. etc., at the Cape of Good Hope,” purporting to be a republication
from a Supplement to the Edinburgh Journal of Science. The heading of
the article was striking enough, yet was far from conveying any adequate
idea of its contents.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_261" id="Page_261"></SPAN></span> When the latter became known, the excitement went
beyond all bounds, and grew until the “Sun” office was positively
besieged with crowds of people of the very first class, vehemently
applying for copies of the issue containing the wonderful details.</p>
<p>As the pamphlet form in which the narrative was subsequently published
is now out of print, and a copy can hardly be had in the country, I will
recall a few passages from a rare edition, for the gratification of my
friends who have never seen the original. Indeed, the whole story is
altogether too good to be lost; and it is a great pity that we can not
have a handsome reprint of it given to the world from time to time. It
is constantly in demand; and, during the year 1859, a single copy of
sixty pages, sold at the auction of Mr. Haswell’s library, brought the
sum of $3,75. In that same year, a correspondent, in Wisconsin, writing
to the “Sunday Times” of this city, inquired where the book could be
procured, and was answered that he could find it at the old bookstore,
No. 85 Centre Street, if anywhere. Thus, after a search of many weeks,
the Western bibliopole succeeded in obtaining a well-thumbed specimen of
the precious work. Acting upon this chance suggestion, Mr. William
Gowans, of this city, during the same year, brought out a very neat
edition, in paper covers, illustrated with a view of the moon, as seen
through Lord Rosse’s grand telescope, in 1856. But this, too, has all
been sold; and the most indefatigable book-collector might find it
difficult to purchase a single copy at the present time. I, therefore,
render the inquiring reader no slight service in culling for him<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_262" id="Page_262"></SPAN></span> some
of the flowers from this curious astronomical garden.</p>
<p>The opening of the narrative was in the highest Review style; and the
majestic, yet subdued, dignity of its periods, at once claimed
respectful attention; while its perfect candor, and its wealth of
accurate scientific detail exacted the homage of belief from all but
cross-grained and inexorable skeptics.</p>
<p>It commences thus:</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>“In this unusual addition to our Journal, we have the happiness to
make known to the British public, and thence to the whole civilized
world, recent discoveries in Astronomy, which will build an
imperishable monument to the age in which we live, and confer upon
the present generation of the human race a proud distinction
through all future time. It has been poetically said, that the
stars of heaven are the hereditary regalia of man, as the
intellectual sovereign of the animal creation. He may now fold the
Zodiac around him with a loftier consciousness of his mental
superiority,” etc., etc.</p>
</div>
<p>The writer then eloquently descanted upon the sublime achievement by
which man pierced the bounds that hemmed him in, and with sensations of
awe approached the revelations of his own genius in the far-off heavens,
and with intense dramatic effect described the younger Herschel
surpassing all that his father had ever attained; and by some stupendous
apparatus about to unvail the remotest mysteries of the sidereal space,
pausing for many hours ere the excess of his emotions would allow him to
lift the vail from his own overwhelming success.</p>
<p>I must quote a line or two of this passage, for it capped the climax of
public curiosity:<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_263" id="Page_263"></SPAN></span></p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>“Well might he pause! He was about to become the sole depository of
wondrous secrets which had been hid from the eyes of all men that
had lived since the birth of time. He was about to crown himself
with a diadem of knowledge which would give him a conscious
preëminence above every individual of his species who then lived or
who had lived in the generations that are passed away. He paused
ere he broke the seal of the casket that contained it.”</p>
</div>
<p>Was not this introduction enough to stimulate the wonder bump of all the
star-gazers, until</p>
<p class="poem">“Each particular hair did stand on end,<br/>
Like quills upon the fretful porcupine?”</p>
<p>At all events, such was the effect, and it was impossible at first to
supply the frantic demand, even of the city, not to mention the country
readers.</p>
<p>I may very briefly sum up the outline of the discoveries alleged to have
been made, in a few paragraphs, so as not to protract the suspense of my
readers too long.</p>
<p>It was claimed that the “Edinburgh Journal” was indebted for its
information to Doctor Andrew Grant—a savant of celebrity, who had, for
very many years, been the scientific companion, first of the elder and
subsequently of the younger Herschel, and had gone with the latter in
September, 1834, to the Cape of Good Hope, whither he had been sent by
the British Government, acting in conjunction with the Governments of
France and Austria, to observe the transit of Mercury over the disc of
the sun—an astronomical point of great importance to the lunar
observations of longitude,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_264" id="Page_264"></SPAN></span> and consequently to the navigation of the
world. This transit was not calculated to occur before the 7th of
November, 1835 (the year in which the hoax was printed;) but Sir John
Herschel set out nearly a year in advance, for the purpose of thoroughly
testing a new and stupendous telescope devised by himself under this
peculiar inspiration, and infinitely surpassing anything of the kind
ever before attempted by mortal man. It has been discovered by previous
astronomers and among others, by Herschel’s illustrious father, that the
sidereal object becomes dim in proportion as it is magnified, and that,
beyond a certain limit, the magnifying power is consequently rendered
almost useless. Thus, an impassable barrier seemed to lie in the way of
future close observation, unless some means could be devised to
illuminate the object to the eye. By intense research and the
application of all recent improvements in optics, Sir John had succeeded
in securing a beautiful and perfectly lighted image of the moon with a
magnifying power that increased its apparent size in the heavens six
thousand times. Dividing the distance of the moon from the earth, viz.:
240,000 miles, by six thousand, we we have forty miles as the distance
at which she would then seem to be seen; and as the elder Herschel, with
a magnifying power, only one thousand, had calculated that he could
distinguish an object on the moon’s surface not more than 122 yards in
diameter, it was clear that his son, with six times the power, could see
an object there only twenty-two yards in diameter. But, for any further
advance in power and light, the way seemed insuperably closed until a
profound conversation<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_265" id="Page_265"></SPAN></span> with the great savant and optician, Sir David
Brewster, led Herschel to suggest to the latter the idea of the
readoption of the old fashioned telescopes, without tubes, which threw
their images upon reflectors in a dark apartment, and then the
illumination of these images by the intense hydro-oxygen light used in
the ordinary illuminated microscope. At this suggestion, Brewster is
represented by the veracious chronicler as leaping with enthusiasm from
his chair, exclaiming in rapture to Herschel:</p>
<p>“Thou art the man!”</p>
<p><SPAN name="corr75" id="corr75"></SPAN>The suggestion, thus happily approved, was immediately acted upon, and a
subscription, headed by that liberal patron of science, the Duke of
Sussex, with £10,000, was backed by the reigning King of England with
his royal word for any sum that might be needed to make up £70,000, the
amount required. No time was lost; and, after one or two failures, in
January 1833, the house of Hartley & Grant, at Dumbarton, succeeded in
casting the huge object-glass of the new apparatus, measuring
twenty-four feet (or six times that of the elder Herschel’s glass) in
diameter; weighing 14,826 pounds, or nearly seven tons, after being
polished, and possessing a magnifying power of 42,000 times!—a
perfectly pure, spotless, achromatic lens, without a material bubble or
flaw!</p>
<p>Of course, after so elaborate a description of so astounding a result as
this, the “Edinburg Scientific Journal” (<i>i. e.</i>, the writer in the “New
York Sun”) could not avoid being equally precise in reference to
subsequent details, and he proceeded to explain that Sir John<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_266" id="Page_266"></SPAN></span> Herschel
and his amazing apparatus having been selected by the Board of Longitude
to observe the transit of Mercury, the Cape of Good Hope was chosen
because, upon the former expedition to Peru, acting in conjunction with
one to Lapland, which was sent out for the same purpose in the
eighteenth century, it had been noticed that the attraction of the
mountainous regions deflected the plumb-line of the large instruments
seven or eight seconds from the perpendicular, and, consequently,
greatly impaired the enterprise. At the Cape, on the contrary, there was
a magnificent table-land of vast expanse, where this difficulty could
not occur. Accordingly, on the 4th of September, 1834, with a design to
become perfectly familiar with the working of his new gigantic
apparatus, and with the Southern Constellations, before the period of
his observations of Mercury, Sir John Herschel sailed from London,
accompanied by Doctor Grant (the supposed informant,) Lieutenant
Drummond, of the Royal Engineers, F.R.A.S., and a large party of the
best English workmen. On their arrival at the Cape, the apparatus was
conveyed, in four days’ time, to the great elevated plain, thirty-five
miles to the N.E. of Cape Town, on trains drawn by two relief-teams of
oxen, eighteen to a team, the ascent aided by gangs of Dutch boors. For
the details of the huge fabric in which the lens and its reflectors were
set up, I must refer the curious reader to the pamphlet itself—not that
the presence of the “Dutch boors” alarms me at all, since we have plenty
of boors at home, and one gets used to them in the course of time, but
because the elaborate scientific description of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_267" id="Page_267"></SPAN></span> the structure would
make most readers see “stars” in broad daylight before they get through.</p>
<p>I shall only go on to say that, by the 10th of January, everything was
complete, even to the two pillars “one hundred and fifty feet high!”
that sustained the lens. Operations then commenced forthwith, and so,
too, did the “special wonder” of the readers. It is a matter of
congratulation to mankind that the writer of the hoax, with an apology
(Heaven save the mark!) spared us Herschel’s notes of “the Moon’s
tropical, sidereal, and synodic revolutions,” and the “phenomena of the
syzygies,” and proceeded at once to the pith of the subject. Here came
in his grand stroke, informing the world of complete success in
obtaining a distinct view of objects in the moon “fully equal to that
which the unaided eye commands of terrestrial objects at the distance of
a hundred yards, affirmatively settling the question whether the
satellite be inhabited, and by what order of beings,” “firmly
establishing a new theory of cometary phenomena,” etc., etc. This
announcement alone was enough to take one’s breath away, but when the
green marble shores of the Mare Nubium; the mountains shaped like
pyramids, and of the purest and most dazzling crystalized, wine-colored
amethyst, dotting green valleys skirted by “round-breasted hills;”
summits of the purest vermilion fringed with arching cascades and
buttresses of white marble glistening in the sun—when these began to be
revealed, the delight of our Luna-tics knew no bounds—and the whole
town went moon-mad! But even these immense pictures were surpassed by
the “lunatic” animals discov<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_268" id="Page_268"></SPAN></span>ered. First came the “herds of brown
quadrupeds” very like a—no! not a whale, but a bison, and “with a tail
resembling that of the bos grunniens”—the reader probably understands
what kind of a “bos” that is, if he’s apprenticed to a theatre in
midsummer with musicians on a strike; then a creature, which the
hoax-man naïvely declared “would be classed on earth as a monster”—I
rather think it would!—“of a bluish lead color, about the size of a
goat, with a head and a beard like him, and a single horn, slightly
inclined forward from, the perpendicular”—it is clear that if this goat
was cut down to a single horn, other people were not! I could not but
fully appreciate the exquisite distinction accorded by the writer to the
female of this lunar animal—for she, while deprived of horn and beard,
he explicitly tells us, “had a much larger tail!” When the astronomers
put their fingers on the beard of this “beautiful” little creature (on
the reflector, mind you!) it would skip away in high dudgeon, which,
considering that 240,000 miles intervened, was something to show its
delicacy of feeling.</p>
<p>Next in the procession of discovery, among other animals of less note,
was presented “a quadruped with an amazingly long neck, head like a
sheep, bearing two long spiral horns, white as polished ivory, and
standing in perpendiculars parallel to each other. Its body was like
that of a deer, but its forelegs were most disproportionately long, and
its tail, which was very bushy and of a snowy whiteness, curled high
over its rump and hung two or three feet by its side. Its colors were
bright bay and white, brindled in patches, but of no regular<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_269" id="Page_269"></SPAN></span> form.”
This is probably the animal known to us on earth, and particularly along
the Mississippi River, as the “guyascutus,” to which I may particularly
refer in a future article.</p>
<p>But all these beings faded into insignificance compared with the first
sight of the genuine Lunatics, or men in the moon, “four feet high,
covered, except in the face, with short, glossy, copper-colored hair,”
and “with wings composed of a thin membrane, without hair, lying snugly
upon their backs from the top of their shoulders to the calves of their
legs,” <SPAN name="corr76" id="corr76"></SPAN>“with faces of a yellowish flesh-color—a slight improvement on
the large ourang-outang.” Complimentary for the Lunatics! But, says the
chronicler, Lieutenant Drummond declared that “but for their long wings,
they would look as well on a parade-ground as some of the cockney
militia!” A little rough, my friend the reader will exclaim, for the
aforesaid militia.</p>
<p>Of course, it is impossible, in a sketch like the present, to do more
than give a glimpse of this rare combination of astronomical realities
and the vagaries of mere fancy, and I must omit the Golden-fringed
Mountains, the Vale of the Triads, with their splendid triangular
temples, etc., but I positively cannot pass by the glowing mention of
the inhabitants of this wonderful valley—a superior race of Lunatics,
as beautiful and as happy as angels, “spread like eagles” on the grass,
eating yellow gourds and red cucumbers, and played with by snow-white
stags, with jet-black horns! The description here is positively
delightful, and I even now remember my poignant sigh of regret when, at
the conclusion, I<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_270" id="Page_270"></SPAN></span> read that these innocent and happy beings, although
evidently “creatures of order and subordination,” and “very polite,”
were seen indulging in amusements which would not be deemed “within the
bounds of strict propriety” on this degenerate ball. The story wound up
rather abruptly by referring the reader to an extended work on the
subject by Herschel, which has not yet appeared.</p>
<p>One can laugh very heartily, now, at all this; but nearly everybody, the
gravest and the wisest, too, was completely taken in at the time: and
the “Sun,” then established at the corner of Spruce street, where the
“Tribune” office now stands, reaped an increase of more than fifty
thousand to its circulation—in fact, there gained the foundation of its
subsequent prolonged success. Its proprietors sold no less than $25,000
worth of the “Moon Hoax” over the counter, even exhausting an edition of
sixty thousand in pamphlet form. And who was the author? A literary
gentleman, who has devoted very many years of his life to mathematical
and astronomical studies, and was at the time connected as an editor
with the “Sun”—one whose name has since been widely known in literature
and politics—Richard Adams Locke, Esq., then in his youth, and now in
the decline of years. Mr. Locke, who still survives, is a native of the
British Isles, and, at the time of his first connection with the New
York press, was the only short-hand reporter in this city, where he laid
the basis of a competency he now enjoys. Mr. Locke declares that his
original object in writing the Moon story was to satirize some of the
extravagances of Doctor Dick, and to make<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_271" id="Page_271"></SPAN></span> some astronomical suggestions
which he felt diffident about offering seriously.</p>
<p>Whatever may have been his object, his hit was unrivaled; and for months
the press of Christendom, but far more in Europe than here, teemed with
it, until Sir John Herschel was actually compelled to come out with a
denial over his own signature. In the meantime, it was printed and
published in many languages, with superb illustrations. Mr. Endicott,
the celebrated lithographer, some years ago had in his possession a
splendid series of engravings, of extra folio size, got up in Italy, in
the highest style of art, and illustrating the “Moon Hoax.”</p>
<p>Here, in New York, the public were, for a long time, divided on the
subject, the vast majority believing, and a few grumpy customers
rejecting the story. One day, Mr. Locke was introduced by a mutual
friend at the door of the “Sun” office to a very grave old orthodox
Quaker, who, in the calmest manner, went on to tell him all about the
embarkation of Herschel’s apparatus at London, where he had seen it with
his own eyes. Of course, Locke’s optics expanded somewhat while he
listened to this remarkable statement, but he wisely kept his own
counsel.</p>
<p>The discussions of the press were very rich; the “Sun,” of course,
defending the affair as genuine, and others doubting it. The “Mercantile
Advertiser,” <SPAN name="corr77" id="corr77"></SPAN>the “Albany Daily Advertiser,” <SPAN name="corr78" id="corr78"></SPAN>the “New York Commercial
Advertiser,” the “New York Times,” the “New Yorker,” the “New York
Spirit of ’76,” the “Sunday News,” the “United States Gazette,” the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_272" id="Page_272"></SPAN></span>
“Philadelphia Inquirer,” and hosts of other papers came out with the
most solemn acceptance and admiration of these “wonderful discoveries,”
and were eclipsed in their approval only by the scientific journals
abroad. The “Evening Post,” however, was decidedly skeptical, and took
up the matter in this irreverent way:</p>
<div class="blockquot"><p>“It is quite proper that the “Sun” should be the means of shedding
so much light on the Moon. That there should be winged people in
the moon does not strike us as more wonderful than the existence of
such a race of beings on the earth; and that there does still exist
such a race, rests on the evidence of that most veracious of
voyagers and circumstantial of chroniclers, Peter Wilkins, whose
celebrated work not only gives an account of the general appearance
and habits of a most interesting tribe of flying Indians; but,
also, of all those more delicate and engaging traits which the
author was enabled to discover by reason of the conjugal relations
he entered into with one of the females of the winged tribe.”</p>
</div>
<p>The moon-hoax had its day, and some of its glory still survives. Mr.
Locke, its author, is now quietly residing in the beautiful little home
of a friend on the Clove Road, Staten Island, and no doubt, as he gazes
up at the evening luminary, often fancies that he sees a broad grin on
the countenance of its only well-authenticated tenant, “the hoary
solitary whom the criminal code of the nursery has banished thither for
collecting fuel on the Sabbath-day.”</p>
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_273" id="Page_273"></SPAN></span></p>
<div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />