Passing the London Hippodrome near Leicester Square the other day, I thought of one of the great and comparatively harmless 19th century conmen. In 1898 Louis de Rougemont sold the amazing story of his adventures to World Wide magazine, and what a success it was.

He had apparently been shipwrecked somewhere near the Australian mainland, an ordeal only he and the ship’s dog, which had valiantly dragged him through the waves, survived. They lived on a 100-yard-long island for two years, during which time he built a house, managed to light a fire which he kept going and raised corn. Then two Aborigines arrived on the island and, having built a boat together, they all sailed for the mainland, where he went native and married a local girl, Yamba.

His thrilling adventures continued. Alligators were wrestled, emus shot and battles fought, with the losing tribesmen being eaten. Later Yamba ate her child to remove the only available food for Rougemont when he was taken ill. He cured himself by burrowing into the carcass of a dead buffalo. Then he decided to return to England, sadly without the gallant Yamba, who had taken to wearing the bones of her dead child around her neck. His articles were a tour de force and he lectured widely and profitably on the strength of them.

Of course, when the Daily Chronicle challenged Rougemont to prove his story, he could not do so. He was, in fact, the Swiss-born Henri Louis Grien. He had run away from home at the age of 16 and been taken up by the fading actress Fanny Kemble, who took him on her theatrical tours. He had tried his hand at a number of jobs, including street photography, selling mining shares, working as a dishwasher and waiter, and being butler to Sir William Robinson, governor of Western Australia. All the information for his story had come from the diaries of a man who had left them behind in a Sydney restaurant, supplemented by research at the British Museum.

For a time the disgraced Grien became a music hall turn, riding turtles in the newly opened Hippodrome’s 100,000-gallon tank, in which gondolas sailed, elephants swam and dwarves performed high-diving stunts. But it did not last and soon Rougemont was reduced to selling matches in Piccadilly. He died aged 74 on 10 June 1921 and is buried in Kensal Green cemetery.

James Morton is a writer and former criminal defence solicitor