An Exotic Stranger Arrives in London
In 1703, Londoners were captivated by a pale-skinned man claiming to be the first visitor from a distant island called Formosa, now known as Taiwan. He wore strange robes, ate raw meat spiced with cardamom, and spoke in an unknown tongue.
The man called himself George Psalmanazar and insisted he had survived capture by Jesuits before finding salvation in the Anglican faith. Scholars, clergy, and nobles rushed to meet him, convinced they were in the presence of a true exotic traveler from the edge of the known world.
A Country That Never Existed
Psalmanazar soon published An Historical and Geographical Description of Formosa in 1704. The book was filled with vivid but false details: he claimed Formosa’s men wore gold plates instead of clothing, that they ate serpents, and that 18,000 young boys were sacrificed annually to the gods.
He even invented an entire language and alphabet, which European grammarians later copied into linguistic studies for decades. The book became an immediate success, translated into several languages, and Psalmanazar was invited to lecture before learned societies and the Royal Society itself.
The Truth Unravels
As European knowledge of Asia grew, inconsistencies in Psalmanazar’s story became impossible to ignore. He explained away his light complexion by saying Formosan nobles lived underground, but by 1706 his credibility had collapsed.
He confessed privately, then publicly, that he was not from Formosa at all but a Frenchman who had fabricated his entire identity. The confession ended the “Formosan craze” that had swept London.
A Quiet Redemption
After his exposure, Psalmanazar lived modestly in London. He worked as a clerk, translator, and contributor to historical publications such as A General History of Printing and Universal History. He became a friend of the young Samuel Johnson, who later described him as a humble, respected old man. Psalmanazar’s final years were spent in poverty, writing theological essays and reflecting on his imposture.
Before his death on May 3, 1763, he composed his memoirs, openly declaring his History of Formosa to be a “base and shameful fraud.” He was buried in a simple grave, leaving behind one of the most elaborate hoaxes in literary history—an entire country that existed only in his imagination.
In 1703, London buzzed with talk of a mysterious visitor from a distant island called Formosa.
He wore strange robes, spoke a language no one knew, and claimed to have escaped the Jesuits.
But behind the exotic act, he was hiding something. His name was George Psalmanazar.🧵 pic.twitter.com/2L1iL2vQjZ
— Fascinating True Stories (@FascinatingTrue) October 23, 2025