The human capacity for belief, even in the face of the fantastical, is often underestimated. There are few better illustrations of this phenomenon than the Great Moon Hoax of 1835, an elaborate journalistic deception that captivated the world and forever etched its place in the annals of media history. This remarkable series of articles, published by The Sun newspaper in New York, fabricated discoveries of extraordinary life and landscapes on the lunar surface, leaving an indelible mark on both science and public perception.
The Genesis of a Grand Deception
The story of the Great Moon Hoax began in the bustling newspaper landscape of 1835 New York. Benjamin Day, the ambitious founder of The Sun, a burgeoning penny paper aiming to provide news to the masses at an affordable price, was constantly seeking methods to boost circulation. Unlike its more established counterparts such as the New York Times or Herald Tribune, The Sun thrived on sensationalism. Day’s quest for captivating content led him to Richard Adams Locke, a reporter who claimed a Cambridge education, though this detail would later prove to be one of many embellishments associated with the hoax itself. Locke was already making a name for himself covering a high-profile trial for another publication when Day shrewdly recruited him.
Richard Adams Locke’s Vision
Locke agreed to contribute articles to The Sun, stipulating that his name not appear due to his existing employment. His initial contributions on the sensational trial were so popular that Benjamin Day compiled them into a pamphlet, which sold thousands of copies. This success immediately highlighted the lucrative potential of serialized stories. Recognizing Locke’s talent for engaging narratives, Day soon hired him as co-editor. It was during this period that Locke conceived the audacious idea of an astronomical satire—a detailed, yet entirely fabricated, account of life on the Moon. This concept would blossom into the Great Moon Hoax, a narrative designed to both entertain and perhaps, as Locke later suggested, critique the uncritical acceptance of scientific speculation and religious dogma.
The Astronomical Discoveries Unveiled
On August 25, 1835, The Sun unleashed the first installment of what would become a six-part series. Titled “Great Astronomical Discoveries Lately Made by Sir John Herschel, L.L.D.F.R.S.&c, At the Cape of Good Hope [From Supplement to the Edinburgh Journal of Science]“, the articles cleverly leveraged the formidable reputation of Sir John Herschel. Herschel, a real and highly respected British astronomer and son of the renowned Sir William Herschel (discoverer of Uranus), was presented as the central figure behind these groundbreaking observations. The initial articles described Herschel’s use of a revolutionary new telescope in South Africa, capable of unprecedented magnification, allowing him to discern planets in other solar systems and resolve complex mathematical astronomy problems. Then, almost as an aside, the bombshell was dropped: Herschel had discovered definitive proof of life on the Moon.
Life on the Lunar Surface
The series, purportedly excerpts from the prestigious Edinburgh Journal of Science, meticulously detailed the alleged lunar observations. Readers were transported to a vibrant, living Moon, complete with diverse geographical features such as vast oceans, lush forests, and expansive beaches. The fabricated accounts described an array of exotic lunar fauna: agile bison, woolly goats, and even the “Vespertilio-homo” – bat-like winged humanoids. These fascinating creatures were depicted engaging in various activities, including constructing elaborate temples, adding a layer of sophisticated civilization to the lunar narrative. The authorship of these “discoveries” was attributed to a fictitious Dr. Andrew Grant, described as a former student and now traveling companion of Herschel. The articles claimed that Grant’s popular account was in conjunction with a more scientific report submitted by Herschel to the Royal Society, further lending an air of authenticity to the elaborate hoax.
Public Reaction and Widespread Belief
The articles created an immediate sensation, rapidly spreading across America and Europe. Other prominent newspapers and magazines, initially unaware of the deception, reprinted sections or provided extensive coverage, further amplifying the reach of the Great Moon Hoax. The public was captivated; the prospect of extraterrestrial life, especially one so vividly described and seemingly endorsed by a reputable scientist, ignited widespread excitement and wonder. The Sun capitalized immensely on this fervor, selling thousands of pamphlets containing the complete series. Wall Street lithographers Norris & Baker were commissioned to create vivid illustrations depicting the lunar landscapes and its inhabitants, which also sold in large numbers. It is estimated that upwards of 60,000 pamphlets were sold, turning a substantial profit for Day and Locke.
While a significant portion of the public initially accepted the reality of these lunar discoveries, skepticism began to mount. More credible newspapers and scientific institutions started to scrutinize the claims, pointing out scientific inconsistencies and the sheer impossibility of such observations with contemporary technology. Despite being increasingly called out as a hoax, The Sun remained largely unphased. Interestingly, many contemporaries, even those who recognized the deception, praised it as a brilliant satire and a clever journalistic coup. The success of the Great Moon Hoax cemented The Sun’s reputation for sensationalism and helped establish its long-standing success, continuing to publish until 1950.
The Unmasking and Legacy
For some time, the true authorship of the sensational lunar series remained a subject of debate, with Richard Adams Locke initially denying his involvement. His claims of a Cambridge education also came under scrutiny and were eventually debunked as false. Approximately a year after the hoax rocked the world, in 1836, Locke departed from The Sun. He subsequently joined New Era, another burgeoning penny paper, and it was here that he openly embraced his role, adding “Author of the Moon Hoax” to his byline. Locke later articulated that his lunar narrative was conceived as a biting satire aimed at the uncritical influence of religion upon science, particularly a specific theological writer, and the speculative theories about life beyond Earth prevalent at the time. He sought to expose the gullibility of both the public and the intellectual elite when confronted with seemingly authoritative scientific pronouncements.
Locke eventually left the world of journalism in 1842, taking a position with the Customs Service. When he passed away in 1871 at the age of 70, his obituary graced the front page of The Sun, the very paper that had launched his most famous deception. The obituary notably stated: “Richard Adams Locke died on Staten Island on Thursday, in his 71st year. Mr. Locke was the author of the ‘Moon Hoax,’ the most successful scientific joke ever published, which originally appeared in The Sun. The story was told with a minuteness of detail and dexterous use of technical phrases that not only imposed upon the ordinary reader but deceived and puzzled men of science to an astonishing degree.”
The Great Moon Hoax of 1835 stands as a powerful testament to the potent mix of public curiosity, journalistic enterprise, and human credulity. It showcased the emerging power of the penny press to shape public opinion and demonstrated how readily people could be swayed by compelling, yet fabricated, narratives. More than just a successful newspaper stunt, it served as an early precursor to modern disinformation campaigns, highlighting the critical importance of media literacy and skepticism when consuming news. Its legacy continues to echo, reminding us that extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence, and that sometimes, the most astonishing stories are merely products of vivid imagination and clever prose.
Conclusion
The Great Moon Hoax of 1835 remains a fascinating episode in media history, a monumental piece of journalistic trickery that blurred the lines between fact and fiction for a global audience. Through the cunning of Richard Adams Locke and the sensationalist drive of The Sun newspaper, an entire world was briefly convinced of bat-men and bison on the Moon. This audacious prank not only skyrocketed The Sun’s circulation but also sparked crucial conversations about scientific speculation, public gullibility, and the burgeoning power of the press. It serves as an enduring cautionary tale, reminding us of the human tendency to believe what we want to believe and the persistent need for critical thinking in the face of sensational claims, even centuries later.
