History’s Greatest Forger: Science, Fiction, and Fraud along the Seine

Introduction Last year, while on academic leave in France, I discovered a letter in a Paris archive, and I present my translation of it below. I realize that subscribers to scholarly journals are rarely asked to read translationsof archival documents anymore. Yet by declining to do so, scholars do not, I presume, mean to impugn the authenticity of these manuscripts. In the present case, I hope that they have confidence in the chain of custody that links its author’s pen to my presentation and that they trust my knowledge of the French language, as well as my fidelity to the principles of sober editing. Rather, I assume that their reluctance to read such texts stems from their belief that the translation of nineteenth-century manuscripts, whatever their intrinsic interest, no longer offers the sort of value-added originality for which the academy is willing to award credit. I quite agree; it shows no great merit to discover an interesting letter in the archives. Which is to say that we now seem to believe that historians—even historians of science like myself—are expected to provide a kind of creative authorship. The letter in question, however, would seem to offer an exception to this rule as well as a cautionary tale on just this theme. For myself, I have few doubts as to the document’s authenticity, although it comes from the pen of an admitted forger. I am no expert in handwriting analysis, but I think that can be no great obstacle in this case because even an expert might hesitate to pass judgment on so capable a penman. Of course, should any of my readers consider themselves proficient in this art, I would be happy to provide a facsimile. In themeantime, I invite themto judge itsverisimilitude for themselves.