Buzz
While modern hoaxes often revolve around viral internet trends or blurry UFO footage, few consider the elaborate deceptions crafted over two centuries ago. Yet, trickery was just as prevalent in the 18th century as it is today. Without the convenience of the internet, these historical hoaxes required far more ingenuity than a simple Bigfoot photo.
10. The Woman Who Gave Birth to Rabbits
Selecting an animal to supposedly give birth to might seem odd, but why not pick something small and unassuming? Certainly, a shark wouldn’t be the first choice. In 1726, Mary Toft from Godalming, England, claimed to have birthed rabbits—not just one, but nine. Surgeon John Howard, called to her home, reportedly saw the delivery of these rabbits, all lifeless and some incomplete.
Nathanael St. Andre, the surgeon-anatomist appointed by the King, launched an investigation into the bizarre case. Despite extensive media coverage, a journey to London, and multiple examinations, the scientific community remained baffled. It wasn’t until a local butcher confessed to providing rabbits to the Toft household and a surgeon proposed an in-depth internal examination of Mary’s uterus that she finally admitted the truth.
Mary had cleverly concealed dead rabbits within her body when no one was watching. Her motive? A desperate bid for fame, wealth, and an audience with the King. Instead, she received a minor penalty for fraud and the burden of destroying the careers of two surgeons—St. Andre and Howard—who never practiced in England again.
9. Native Indians Sending Scalps to the British
Benjamin Franklin (1706–1790), celebrated as a philosopher, scientist, and statesman, was also a master of deception. From witch trials and prophecies to his famous kite experiment during thunderstorms, Franklin was always crafting elaborate hoaxes. During the American Revolutionary War, he executed one of his most ingenious pranks.
In 1782, a dubious newspaper titled The Supplement to the Boston Independent Chronicle published a shocking letter. It claimed that British forces were compensating Native American warriors to deliver thousands of American scalps, including those of women and children, as war trophies to the British monarchy and parliament. The letter quickly spread to Europe, sparking widespread outrage.
This was, in fact, an intricate ruse orchestrated by Franklin. He personally printed the newspaper and distributed it among acquaintances, one of whom leaked it overseas. The article achieved its purpose: Franklin aimed to sway European sentiment against the British to aid the war effort, and he succeeded.
8. The Man Who Could Fit in a Bottle
British aristocrats of the 18th century often amused themselves by exploiting public credulity. In 1749, the Duke of Portland wagered with the Earl of Chesterfield that advertising a spectacle of a man leaping into a wine bottle would draw massive crowds willing to pay for such an extraordinary sight—and it did.
The duo advertised the event in London newspapers, promising a show featuring a séance and a musical cane for 10d (£5; $7.90 today). Tickets sold out rapidly, and the theater was filled to capacity on the night of the performance. However, when the show failed to begin on time, the audience grew hostile, destroying seats and igniting a street bonfire fueled by tickets, wigs, and other items.
The media ridiculed the exposed hoax, mistakenly blaming Samuel Foote, a well-known prankster of the era. The Duke and Earl remained silent for years until their wager was eventually disclosed, clearing Foote’s name.
7. The Giants of Patagonia
Fee-fi-fo-fum, the scent of an Englishman’s deception! When the Dolphin returned to London in 1766 after its global voyage, rumors spread that the crew had met a tribe of giants in South America. The story gained credibility after being published in the London Chronicle. This hoax had historical roots: Antonio Pigafetta claimed to have encountered South American giants in the 16th century, and in 1578, a chaplain on Sir Francis Drake’s ship described unusually tall Patagonians.
The myth of the giants encountered by the Dolphin was eventually dispelled when the ship’s official travel account was published in 1773. The records described a tall tribe, with the tallest member standing at six feet six inches—far from the twelve-foot giants reported seven years earlier.
6. The Sperm-Men
Though it sounds like a plot from a bizarre episode of Doctor Who, the notion of sperm as microscopic men was seriously considered by many 18th-century scientists. The tale begins with a miraculous claim. The British Royal Society received a letter titled Pregnancy Without Intercourse from Abraham Johnson, detailing a woman’s pregnancy caused by invisible particles.
Dubbed “floating animalcula,” these particles were supposedly examined under a microscope and identified as tiny human figures. Johnson ended his letter by urging the king to impose a year-long ban on intercourse to study conceptions caused by these “floating animalcula.” In reality, the letter was penned by Sir John Hill, mocking the popular “spermist” theory of the time, which claimed sperm contained miniature humans, or homunculi, that grew into children inside a woman’s womb.
5. Can’t Kiss a Child on a Sunday in Connecticut
Grudges can lead to extraordinary tales. Take Reverend Samuel Peters, for instance. A wealthy Anglican, Peters was driven out of America during the revolution and, upon settling in London, sought to tarnish his former homeland’s reputation. In 1781, he published A General History of Connecticut, listing absurd blue Laws such as banning kissing a child or shaving on Sundays, and requiring men to have their hair “cut round.”
The book claimed that violating these laws could result in severe punishments, including ear removal, tongue burning, or even execution. While it caused a sensation in England, New Englanders were furious, as none of these so-called blue laws ever existed.
4. Bed That Could Cure Impotence
James Graham, a self-proclaimed expert in electrical medicine, attracted the English elite seeking cures through electric shocks. Despite his popularity, Graham was no doctor—he had abandoned his studies in Edinburgh before graduating and, after a stint in America, returned to the UK to establish his Temple of Health in 1779.
The centerpiece of his electrical marvels was the Celestial Bed, available for fifty pounds a night. Promising to cure sterility and impotence, the bed featured a mattress filled with hair from nine English stallions, a ceiling-mounted mirror, and a headboard crackling with electricity. It seemed miraculous, but ultimately, it was too good to be true.
Despite a steady stream of clients, Graham’s debts mounted, forcing him to return to Edinburgh under the alias O.W.L., meaning “Oh, Wonderful Love.” In his final years, he extolled the virtues of mud baths and even stripped in public to donate his clothes to the poor. Whether or not the Celestial Bed worked, Graham’s eccentricity was undeniable.
3. Shakespearean Forgery for a Father’s Love
Father-son relationships can be complicated, especially when a father is fixated on a deceased playwright and neglects his son. What’s a son to do? For William Henry Ireland, the answer was simple: create a forgery and present it to his father. Samuel Ireland, a bookseller and avid collector of Shakespearean artifacts, was one of many 18th-century enthusiasts obsessed with the Bard.
When William Henry returned home with a letter supposedly written by Shakespeare to the Earl of Southampton, claiming to have found it among old documents at his law office, Samuel had no reason to doubt his son. Eager for more paternal approval, Henry produced additional Shakespearean forgeries, including a love letter to Anne Hathaway and a historical play called Vortigern.
Samuel arranged for Vortigern to be staged at Drury Lane Theatre on April 2, 1796. However, the actors were skeptical, and the play lasted only one night amid ridicule before being canceled. Henry eventually confessed to the forgeries, but Samuel, even on his deathbed, refused to believe his son and insisted the documents were genuine works of Shakespeare.
2. Rich Eat the Babies of the Poor
Jonathan Swift is now celebrated as one of history’s greatest satirists, with his work Gulliver’s Travels adapted for countless generations. However, in 1725, Swift was far from famous. During this period, he published an essay titled A Modest Proposal for Preventing the Children of Poor People in Ireland From Being a Burden to their Parents or the Country, and For Making Them Beneficial to the Public.
The essay’s lengthy title was matched by its shocking content. While it appeared to address the plight of Ireland’s starving poor, it concluded with a startling suggestion: the poor’s unwanted infants should be fed to the wealthy. Swift even provided culinary advice, claiming a one-year-old child would make an excellent ragout. Though we now recognize Swift’s essay as a sharp critique of the British class system, many at the time feared their children might end up in the stew pots of the rich.
1. Relics of the Great Flood
Dr. Johann Bartholomew Adam Beringer, a prominent 18th-century scholar, served as Senior Professor and Dean of the Faculty of Medicine at the University of Würzburg in Germany. He was also deeply interested in oryctics, now known as paleontology, and amassed a collection of fossils, though none held historical significance.
Everything changed in 1725 when two colleagues presented him with peculiar stones discovered near Mount Eivelstadt. These rocks, though ordinary in composition, were intricately engraved with images of plants, insects, and other designs. Over time, Beringer’s associates delivered more stones, and by year’s end, his collection exceeded 2000 decorated specimens.
Convinced he had made a groundbreaking discovery, Beringer authored Lithographiae Wirceburgensis, proposing the stones were relics from the great flood or creations beyond human understanding. The hoaxers then delivered a final stone, this one bearing Beringer’s name. Fearing professional ruin, he tried to recall all copies of his book but failed. The case went to court, where it was revealed that his colleagues orchestrated the prank to humble the arrogant professor.
