the cipher. Because of a late and somewhat mercenary marriage, he has
been considered as having a cold nature, a conclusion hightened by
the loveless comments of his Essay on Love. But the cipher writing
discloses an early disappointment as the cause. While in France,
and 17, he was violently enamored of the beautiful but dissolute
Marguerite, wife of Henry of Navarre, and his senior by something
like eight years. A divorce from Henry and her union with Bacon, the
rightful Prince of Wales, was actually planned. The fair Marguerite
proved fickle also, but his writings are filled with references to
his affection for her which her falseness could not, apparently,
extinguish. He tells us himself that “Romeo and Juliet” was written
to picture their love, saying: “The joy of life ebb’d from our hearts
with our parting, and it never came againe into this bosom in full
flood-tide.” Another interesting episode brought out is Bacon’s account
of his brother’s treason and his self-justification and remorse at his
own part in the punishment that was meted out to him.
The verity of the cipher Mrs. Gallup has so painstakingly and with such
unwearied patience unfolded would seem to be sustained by the fact that
it is Bacon’s own invention, fully--even elaborately--set forth in
one of his later writings, when, Elizabeth being dead and he himself
near his end, he had less fear of consequences should his secret be
discovered--indeed, he came to fear it would not be discovered and that
he would not be justified to posterity.
So much of reserve as is due to lack of personal demonstration is
maintained by the writer, but here are 360 pages of deciphered matter,
with sufficient means of proof to satisfy any investigator. There can
be no middle ground; one must accept or deny it in toto. Either the
decipherer has made a most remarkable discovery to which the key has
been open for three centuries, or the book is equally remarkable from
an entirely different point of view. If accepted, truly “th’ tardy
epistle shall turn over an unknowne leaf of the historie of our land.”
FRANCIS BACON’S BI-LITERAL CIPHER.
BACONIANA, LONDON.
Before these lines are printed, Mrs. Gallup’s very important work on
“The Biliteral Cipher of Francis Bacon”[1] will have been for two
months in the hands of the public. Since it is probable that there may
be due discussion of its wonderful contents, it seems desirable to
say a few words, not by way of review or mere expression of personal
opinion (in such a case valueless), but in order to draw attention
to certain points which, if not at present capable of absolute
verification or contradiction, yet surely demand and are worthy of the
closest investigation. Questions of this kind must naturally arise, “Is
this cipher such as any person of ordinary intelligence can follow?
Is it provably correct? Has any one besides Mrs. Gallup succeeded in
depihering by the same means, and with similar results?”
These questions may without hesitation be answered in the affirmative.
With the explanation given by the great inventor himself, anyone can
master the method described in the _De Augmentis_ (Book VI.). Ordinary
patience and contrivance enable us to arrange two different alphabets
of Italic letters and to insert these in the printed type, forming
cipher sentences one-fifth in length of the “exterior” sentence or
passage. Thus to bury one story within another is easy enough. To
unearth it is another matter, and more difficult.
In the first place, there is nothing which particularly invites the
decipherer to discriminate between the two forms of Italic letters
which are essential to this typographical cipher; or, if differences or
deformities in letters are observed, we have been required to believe
them “errors,” defects in printing, carelessness of the compositor, or
anything else which may explain them away. Be not deceived; there is no
error, but consummate skill and subtle contrivance, all helping towards
the cryptographer’s great ends.
Before beginning the work of deciphering, it is needful thoroughly to
learn by heart the Biliteral Alphabet given by its Inventor in the
_De Augmentis_. Here we see that the letters of the common Alphabet
are formed by the combination of the letters A and B in five places,
these two letters (A and B) being represented by two distinct “founts”
of Italic type. To discriminate between these two founts, is the
initial difficulty; but observing that, in the Biliteral Alphabet, _A’s
preponderate_, and that _no combination begins with two B’s_, we judge
that the most frequent forms of Italic letters are almost certain to be
A’s. A decision is best arrived at by repeatedly tracing and drawing
out the various letters; and the decipherer must have keen eyes and
powers of observation to detect the minute differences. For our Francis
would not make things too easy. He speaks of “marks” and “signs” to be
heeded, and Roman letters are often interspersed. It is also patent
(and was found by Mrs. Gallup, and independently by others) that, in
every biliteral alphabet, letters are here and there intentionally
exchanged, as a device to confuse and confound the would-be decipherer.
In many cases we find alphabets suddenly reversed--A becoming B,
and B, A, a change hinted by some “mark” or “sign,” as a tiny dot.
These changes seem to occur most frequently in very small books,
where the limited space makes it the more needful to set snares and
stumbling-blocks at every turn. Such things show that, besides the good
eyes and keen wits required for successful deciphering, there must be
no small amount of that “eternal patience” which Michael Angelo honored
with the title of “genius.”
Let us contemplate the goodly volume presented to us by Mrs. Gallup,
and try to realize the fact that every one of those 350 pages of
deciphered matter was worked out _letter by letter_; that each ONE
letter in this deciphered work represents FIVE letters extracted from
the deciphered book--say, _Shakespeare_, or _Spenser_, _Burton_, or any
of the eight groups of works indicated in the cipher. Not only should
such reflections cause us highly to respect the “endless patience,”
perseverance, and skill of the cryptographer to whose labors we are
so deeply indebted, but they should warn us from depreciating or
discrediting statements or methods which we ourselves are incapable
of testing. “Disparage not the faith thou dost not know,” is a good,
sound principle to begin upon, and Francis (“cunyng in the humours
of persons”) had evidently observed the tendency of the human mind
to fly from things troublesome, or to take refuge in disparagement
and ridicule. His notes teem with reflections on this matter. “Things
above us are nothing to us”--“just nothing.” “Many things are thought
impossible until they are discovered, then men wonder that they had not
been seen long before.” On the other hand, he continually encourages
himself with thoughts, texts and proverbial philosophy, which we find
him instilling into his disciples. “Everything is subtile till it is
conceived.” “By trying, men gained Troy,” and so forth. But we must
“woorke as God woorkes,” wisely, quietly, with persistent patience and
unremitting care, and “from a good beginning cometh a good ending.”
So much, then, for the “biliteral” itself. Another crop of inquiries
springs up when we attempt briefly to rehearse the wonderful
revelations now before us, and which it is within our power to examine
and essay to prove.
Elizabeth, when princess, and prisoner in the hands of Mary, secretly
married Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester. Of this secret marriage two
sons were born. Francis the elder would have been “put away privilie”
by the wicked woman whom he never could bring himself to think of as
“mother.” Lady Anne Bacon, however, saved his life, and under an oath
of secrecy adopted him as her own son. The scene when these facts came
to his knowledge, and again when they were tearfully confirmed by his
“deare,” “sweete mother,” Lady Anne, are graphically described in the
cipher narrative extracted from the “_History of Henry VII._” (Ed.
1622). Further details of the same extraordinary episode are, as may be
remembered, introduced in the “word cipher,” discovered, and in part
published, by Dr. Owen, some seven years ago. From the disclosures
made in the books deciphered, “it is evident,” says Mrs. Gallup, “that
Bacon expected the biliteral cipher to be the first discovered, and
that it would lead to the finding of his principal or word cipher
which it fully explains, and to which is intrusted the larger subjects
he desired to have preserved. This order has been reversed, in fact,
and the earlier discovery by Dr. Owen becomes a more remarkable
achievement, being entirely evolved without the aids which Bacon had
prepared in this for its elucidation.”
But to return to our story.
Francis was now sent abroad by Elizabeth’s orders (_not_, as has
been declared by his biographers, because Sir Nicholas Bacon wished
him to see the wonders of the world abroad, but) in order to get him
out of the way at the time when he had been the unwitting cause of a
Court scandal. He left England in the suite of Sir Amyas Paulet, the
English Ambassador. We know a little, and surmise more, concerning his
travels, and the places which he visited, or where he stayed studying
and writing. The sad story of his ill-fated love for “My Marguerite” is
briefly touched upon, rather as a thing understood to the reader than
as a record, and of this more will be related in a future volume. The
present extracts are from the undated 4to. of _Romeo and Juliet_, where
we may read:
“This stage-play, in part, will tell our real love-tale. A part is
in the Play previously nam’d or mention’d as having therein one
pretty scene acted by the two. So rare and most briefe the hard-won
happinesse, it affords us great content to re-live in the Play all that
as mist, in summer morning did roule away. It hath place in the dramas
containing a scene and theame of this nature, since our fond love
interpreted th’ harts o’ others, and in this joy, th’ joy of heaven was
faintlie guessed.”
In the closing lines of _King John_ are these instructions:
“Join _Romeo_ with _Troy’s_ famous _Cressida_ if you wish to know
my story. Cressida in this play with Juliet b----,” which, says the
Editor,[2] “ends the cipher in _King John_ with an incomplete word.
Turning to _Romeo and Juliet_ (p. 53), the remainder of the word and of
the broken sentence is continued, being a part of the description of
Marguerite, and the love Francis entertained for her.”
This love never faded from his heart, although before he married, at
the age of 47, he had, he says, hung up, as it were, the picture of
his love on the walls of memory. We remember the calm and uneffusive
fashion in which he then imparted to his friends the news that he had
found “a handsome maiden who pleased him well.” The tones in which he
bewailed his lost love are pitched in a different key.
“It is sometimes said, _no man can be wise and love_, and yet it would
be well to observe many will be wiser after a lesson such as wee long
ago conn’d. There was noe ease to our sufferi’g heart til our yeares of
life were eight lustres.[3] The faire face liveth ever in dreames, but
in inner pleasances only doth th’ sunnie vision come. This will make
clearlie seene why i’ the part a man doth play heerein and where-ere
man’s love is evident, strength hath remained unto the end--the want’n
Paris recov’ring by his latter venture much previouslie lost.”
A second son was born to Elizabeth, and named Robert, after his father,
the Earl of Leicester. Robert was “made ward” of Walter Devereaux, Earl
of Essex, who “died” conveniently and unexpectedly, when Robert was old
enough to succeed to his title and estates. At what period the brothers
became aware of their kinship has not yet been told in the cipher.
Francis describes the personal beauty, gallantry, and boldness of his
brother, and says that for these qualities Robert was a great favorite
with the Queen, who thought that he resembled herself. The tale is
still incomplete; but enough has already been disclosed to give us a
firm sketch of the miserable outline. We see Robert taking advantage of
the Queen’s doting fondness for him, and Francis endeavoring to keep
his ambition within bounds, and to smooth matters with his irascible
mother when, as was often the case, she became irritated beyond
endurance by his arrogant audacity. The aim of Essex was, not only
in the future to supplant his elder brother, but even in the Queen’s
lifetime to seize the crown, and rule as king. It is a dark and painful
page in history, and the more we read the less we marvel at the efforts
made by Elizabeth to destroy or garble the records of her own private
life, and of the times in which she lived. Having spoilt and indulged
Essex so long as she believed him devoted to herself, she turned upon
him “in a tigerlike spirit” when his treachery became patent, and
because Francis had spoken strongly on his brother’s behalf, and had
endeavored to shield him from the wrath of the Queen, she punished
him by forcing him, under pain of death, to conduct the case (in his
official capacity) against Essex, whom she had foredoomed to execution.
An allusion is made to the ring which the Queen expected Essex to send
her, but which miscarried. This story has been held doubtful, but it
seems as though we may find it true.
The sentence passed upon Essex was just; but the horror of the trial
and the circumstances connected with the execution, haunted Francis for
the rest of his life, his tender and sensitive nature, and his highly
strung imagination continually reviving, whilst they shrank from, the
recollection of the horrible details of which hereafter we shall have
to read. Although Francis speaks in affectionate terms of his “deere”
and cruelly used brother, we cannot but think that the tenderness
grew out of a deep pity; for Robert had long ago proved himself a
most selfish and unsatisfactory person, and a perpetual thorn in his
brother’s side, but, however this may have been, the gruesome tragedy
remained imprinted on his soul, and clouded and embittered his whole
life. “His references to the trial and execution of Essex, and the part
he was forced to take in his prosecution, are the subject of a wail
of unhappiness and ever-present remorse, with hopes and prayers that
the truth hidden in this cipher may be found out, and published to the
world in his justification.
“O God! forgiveness cometh from Thee; shut not this truest book, my
God! Shut out my past--love’s little sunny hour--if it soe please Thee,
and some of man’s worthy work; yet Essex’s tragedy here shew forth;
then posterity shall know him truly.”[4]
The Queen commanded Francis to write for publication an account of
the Earl of Essex’s treasons, and he did so. But the report was too
lenient, too tender for the reputation of the Earl to satisfy his
vindictive mother. She destroyed the document and with her own hand
wrote another which was published under his name, and for which he has
been held responsible. Such matters as these were State secrets, and
we cannot wonder that Elizabeth should have taken care by all means in
her power to prevent them from becoming public property by appearing
in print. We may well believe that, as the cipher tells us, all papers
were destroyed which were likely to bring dark things to light.
Nevertheless much must have gradually leaked out through the actors
themselves, and more must have been suspected, and only through dread
of the consequences withheld from general discussion. “See what a ready
tongue suspicion hath”; in private letters and hidden records the value
of which is perhaps now for the first time fully understood, evidence
is forthcoming to substantiate statements made in the deciphered pages
of Mrs. Gallup, and her forerunner, Dr. Owen.
The matter gathered from the deciphered pages is not limited to
personal or political history. For instance, speaking of the “_Anatomy
of Melancholy_” (edition, 1628), the Editor says:--“The extraordinary
part is that this edition conceals, in cipher, a very full and extended
prose summary--_argument_, Bacon calls it--of a translation of Homer’s
_Iliad_. In order that there may be no mistake as to its being Bacon’s
works, he precedes the translation with a brief reference to his royal
birth, and the wrongs he has suffered.... In the _De Augmentis_ is
found a similar extended synopsis of a translation of the _Odyssey_.
This, too, is introduced with a reference to Bacon’s personal history,
and although the text of the book is in Latin, the cipher is in
English.
“The decipherer is not a Greek scholar, and would be incapable of
creating these extended arguments, which differ widely in phrasing from
any translation extant, and are written in a free and flowing style.”[5]
Readers must not expect to find in this book which we are noticing,
a complete and shapely narrative explaining everything, and pouring
out before us the true story of our wonderful “concealed man” from
beginning to end. The cipher utterances are, for the most part, nothing
if not fragmentary. The writer himself says so, and adds that his
objects in thus trusting his secrets to the care of his friends and
to the judgment of time were, First, that he might hand down to the
future age the only faithful account of himself and his history, which
would ever be allowed to reach them. Secondly, he proposed to link his
unacknowledged works one with another in such a way that hereafter his
sons of science should from the hints given in one work be led on to
another, and so to another, until the vast mass of books, Historical,
Scientific, Poetical, Dramatical, Philosophical, which he wrote, should
be connected, welded together like an endless chain, and the true
history of the Great Restauration and of the English Renaissance fully
revealed.
THE BACONIAN CIPHER[6]--I.
BY FLEMING FULCHER.
THE COURT JOURNAL, LONDON.
Dr. Rawley, “his Lordship’s first and last chaplain,” relates in his
Life of Lord Bacon that “when his _History of King Henry the Seventh_
was to come forth, it was delivered to the old Lord Brooke to be
perused by him, who, when he had dispatched it, returned it to the
author with this eulogy: 'bid him take care to get good paper and inke;
for the work is incomparable.’” We think “the old Lord Brooke” would
have been justified in sending this message (with a change of pronoun)
to the authoress of _The Biliteral Cipher of Sir Francis Bacon_ (for
in its own way it is incomparable), and we think he would have been
satisfied with the result.
The book is divided into two parts, the first containing introductory
chapters, portraits, and facsimiles, while the second, rather more than
three-quarters of the book, consists entirely of the story deciphered.
The introductory chapters are short, pithy, and well-written, and are
full of literary interest. The first chapter, from the pen of Mrs.
Gallup herself, tells how she came to discover the existence of the
cipher in certain books, and gives a brief account of her work, a
work, to quote her own words, “arduous, exhausting and prolonged”;
and shows how, though her discovery “may change the names of some
of our idols,” we are gainers, not losers, by the change. If we can
find a fault in this chapter, it is that there is only enough of it
to whet our appetite for more details of the progress of her work.
Perhaps we may hope that she will satisfy us in this respect on a
future occasion when her work becomes widely known and read, as it
deserves to be. After Mrs. Gallup’s “personal” chapter there follows
the introduction to the first edition--printed for private circulation
only. It gives a short summary of the principal facts of the cipher
story, and touches on points of interest in connection with the cipher,
two of which we will briefly allude to here. It shows how the cipher
explains the reason for the extraordinary mispaging of the original
editions, carefully adhered to in all the copies, and of which no one
had previously been able to offer a satisfactory explanation; and it
touches on the curious history of _The Anatomy of Melancholy_, which
for nearly three centuries has been attributed to Burton, but which
the British Museum catalogue shows to have been first published under
another name when Burton was about ten years old, and of which in the
cipher story Francis Bacon claims the authorship. The preface of the
second edition, the one we are now considering and the first given to
the public, shows the cogent reasons Bacon had for using the cipher.
“Two distinct purposes,” says the author, “are served by the two
ciphers. The Biliteral was the foundation which was intended to lead
to the other, and is of prime importance in its directions concerning
the construction of the Word Cipher, the keys, and the epitome of the
topics which were to be written out by its aid. It seems also to have
been * * * a sort of diary * * * * and, as in many another diary, we
find the trend of the mind as affected by the varying moods--sometimes
sad and mournful--again defiant and rebellious--and again despondent,
almost in despair, that his wrongs might fail of discovery, even in the
times and land afar off to which he looked for greater honor and fame,
as well as vindication.
“Chafing under the cloud upon his birth, the victim of a destiny beyond
his control, which ever placed him in a false position, defrauded
of his birthright, which was of the highest, he committed to this
cipher the plaints of an outraged soul. * * * To the decipherer,
he unbends--to the rest of the world maintains the dignity which
marked his outward life. * * * It is a wonderful revelation of the
undercurrents of a hidden life.”
“Some Notes on the Shakespeare Plays,” and a reprint of an article on
Shorthand in the days of Elizabeth from the able pen of Mrs. H. Pott,
whose clear and logical mind, no less than her deep research into the
literature of Bacon’s time, makes her writings always welcome; and
lastly a brief sketch of the outlines of Bacon’s life, complete the
original portion of Part I. While the importance of these introductory
chapters lies for our immediate purpose in their application to the
Biliteral Cipher of Sir Francis Bacon, it would be difficult to
overestimate their intrinsic merit, literary and historical. We owe a
debt of gratitude to the authoress and publishers for their liberality
in the matter of facsimiles by which they enable us not only to follow
the deciphering but also to familiarize ourselves with the style and
appearance of the original editions of many old favorites, a privilege
hitherto almost confined to those who have time and opportunity for
visiting the great libraries. In this part are comprised Bacon’s
description of his Biliteral Cipher, with examples and double alphabet;
the frontispiece and preface to the _Novum Organum_, preceded by a
table of the double alphabet, by means of which the cipher is unfolded;
the Droeshout portrait and all the introductory pages of the famous
1623 folio of the Shakespeare plays; and the title pages of several
other of the deciphered works. The preface to the _Novum Organum_ is
also given in modern type, the two founts being marked _a_ and _b_
respectively, thus enabling the reader to follow _in extenso_ the
method of deciphering.
The portraits of Bacon, two in number, to which we have alluded, are
the well-known one in which he is seen in his Chancellor’s robes, and
the exquisite miniature of Hilyard surrounded by the noblest halo that
ever adorned a human portrait--“Si tabula daretur digna, animum mallem”
(“If it were possible to have a canvas worthy, I had rather paint his
mind”).
Of the second part, because it is the most important, we shall say
least. The story it tells is startling, fascinating, strange. As
fiction it would be unique; as history, though truth is proverbially
stranger than fiction, it is unparalleled. Nothing that can give
interest to a book is wanting. There is the excitement of discovery;
the triumph of hidden truth brought to light, of error refuted; the
romance of a great prince, robbed of his birthright, who finds his
consolation in winning a nobler realm--the kingdom of the mind; the
tragedy of a younger brother, a wild though generous spirit, seduced
by misdirected ambition into the thorny path of rebellion that leads
to the question and the block; the pathos of a noble soul torn by the
pangs of remorse for the part he was forced to take in that brother’s
death by the inexorable power of the loftiest sense of justice--that
power which impelled Lucius Junius Brutus to “call his sons to
punishment,” Marcus Brutus to robe his dagger in the imperial purple
of liberty drawn from the veins of his “best lover”; while the one
note wanting to complete the full chord of romance is struck in the
tale of a fruitless passion for the fair Queen of Navarre. Besides the
story of Bacon’s own life and times, or rather of that part of his
life and times hitherto unknown to history, the deciphered story gives
directions for working out his “Word Cipher,” and summaries of those
noble poems of Homer, the _Illiad_ and _Odyssey_, with some passages
translated into blank verse, which we think will compare favorably with
any previous translations.
A few words must suffice as to the style. As we have already quoted,
the book is a diary; and the exigencies of secrecy necessitate much
repetition. For, as Bacon himself notes in the cipher story, he could
not tell what book might be lost, or in which of those that survived,
his decipherer would first light on the discovery. Yet in parts the
writing rises to a great height of eloquence. We cannot resist the
temptation to quote two passages from the cipher which seem to us, each
in its own way, eminently beautiful. The first, though it refers only
to the difficulty of constructing the Word Cipher can, we think, hardly
be surpassed for happiness of metaphors or grace of diction. “’Tis the
labour of years,” says Bacon, “to provide th’ widely varied prose in
which the lines of verse have a faire haven, and lye anchor’d untill a
day when th’ coming pow’r may say: 'Hoist sayle, away! For the windes
of heav’n kisse your fairy streamers, and th’ tide is afloode. On to
thy destiny!’”
The second is the cry of a soul in anguish.
“O Source infinite of light, ere Time in existence was, save in Thy
creative plan, all this tragedy unfolded before Thee. A night of
Stygian darknesse encloseth us. My hope banish’d to realms above,
taketh its flight through th’ clear aire of the Scyences unto bright
daye with Thyselfe. As thou didst conceale Thy lawes in thick clouds,
enfolde them in shades of mysterious gloom, Thou didst infuse from Thy
spirit a desire to put the day’s glad work, th’ evening’s thought, and
midnight’s meditation to finde out their secret workings.
“Only thus can I banish from my thoughts my beloved brother’s untimely
cutting off and my wrongfull part in his tryale. O, had I then one
thought of th’ great change his death would cause--how life’s worth
would shrinke, and this world’s little golden sunshine be but as
collied night’s swifte lightning--this had never come as a hound of
th’ hunt to my idle thoughts.” Mrs. Gallup’s claim to have discovered
the existence of Francis Bacon’s Biliteral Cipher in many of the works
of his time is one which, in view of the story deciphered, will, if
substantiated, oblige us to rewrite a page of history and to tear a
mask from many an idol before which we have bowed for three centuries.
We shall, therefore, require the most convincing proofs of the _bona
fides_ of the discovery. The discussion of this question, however, we
leave to a future article.
THE BACONIAN CIPHER.--II.
BY FLEMING FULCHER.
Last week we reviewed the subject matter of “The Biliteral Cipher of
Sir Francis Bacon” by Mrs. Gallup. This week we have to redeem the
promise then made to discuss the claims which the discovery embodied in
it has on our credence. Let us first clearly define what that discovery
claims to be. It is not that Francis Bacon invented a cipher which he
calls “Biliteral.” That is a fact which has been known to the world for
three centuries. What the authoress claims to have discovered is that
this cipher is used in all the original editions of Bacon’s printed
works, and that she has deciphered the hidden story by means of it.
If this claim can be substantiated, it will decide once for all the
Bacon _v._ Shakespeare controversy in favor of the former, for in the
deciphered story Bacon claims the authorship of the Shakespeare plays
and poems, as well as of other works which we have been accustomed to
attribute, in some cases on little or no evidence, to others of his
“masques.”
Some fifty years ago the theory was started, independently on both
sides of the Atlantic, that “Shakespeare” was in reality only a
pen-name of Francis Bacon, and that it is to that great genius, not to
the actor of Stratford-on-Avon, that the world owes its finest dramas.
A storm of derision, of course, greeted the theory, as it does every
theory that attacks a generally accepted belief, however erroneous; and
it was only necessary to hold the theory to be at once classed with
the inmates of a lunatic asylum--though one would hardly have supposed
such an institution a suitable residence (_exempli gratia_) for Lord
Palmerston. Just such a storm of ridicule, coupled with persecution,
happily for “Baconians” impossible in the nineteenth century, greeted
Galileo’s discovery that the earth moves round the sun. “E puo si
muove,” and during the past fifty years the Baconian theory, under
the influence of careful and patient investigation of internal and
external evidence, has been steadily gaining ground. A fair example
of the way in which the Baconian theory is met by its adversaries is
the reply which was given to a friend of the present writer by a
well-known scholar and “Shakespearian” authority: “If Shakespeare were
to rise from the grave and tell me that Bacon was the author of the
plays, I would not believe him.” Take another typical specimen; it is
a criticism (save the mark!) on the work we are now considering that
appeared recently in a daily contemporary:--“A fresh campaign by the
Baconian zealots is threatened. Mrs. Elizabeth Wells Gallup claims to
have discovered and deciphered the mysterious secrets which Bacon,
she would have us believe, buried in his writings. In the 'Biliteral
Cipher of Sir Francis Bacon,’ Greene, Peele, and Marlowe, as well as
Shakespeare, all go by the board; Sir Francis explains to Mrs. Gallup
that their dramatic works were written by him alone. The proofs, she
says, are 'overwhelming and irresistible.’ The day will come when
Macaulay’s New Zealander will debate whether Bacon was a solar myth or
a sort of Homer, who gathered together all Elizabethan literature in
a--cipher.” But ridicule and invective are not argument, prejudice is
not proof. “Some of our friends,” we used to be told in our childhood,
“are for warning, others for example.” Taking those we have quoted
for warning, let us give a fair and open-minded consideration to Mrs.
Gallup’s claims.
To do this it will be necessary to describe Bacon’s Biliteral Cipher.
His own description of it may be seen in any edition of his _De
Augmentis_. Its principle is extremely simple, being, in fact, that
of the Morse Code at present used in telegraphy--namely, various
combinations of two differences. Thus, if we have two dissimilar
things or sets of things, represented, let us suppose, by _a_ and
_b_ respectively, there are thirty-two different ways in which we
can arrange them in sets of five; as, for example, _aaaaa_, _aaaab_,
_aaaba_, and so on. (It should be noted that in these groups _a_ and
_b_ are merely used as symbols to represent two differences which might
be equally well represented by dots and dashes or any other convenient
symbols.) Now, by using twenty-four such groups, out of the possible
thirty-two, and letting each stand for a different letter of the
alphabet (in Bacon’s day I and J counted as one letter, as did also U
and V), we can communicate by means of two differences with anyone who
knows what letter each group stands for. Bacon’s method, the advantage
of which lies in being able to insert anything in anything--_omnia
per omnia_, as he says--is to have two complete sets, or “founts” as
they are called, of type, which he designates the _a_ and _b_ fount
respectively. All that is then necessary is to write out the secret
message in its biliteral form letter for letter over or under the
matter to be printed, and, as each letter is required, to take it from
the _a_ or _b_ fount according as the one or the other letter appears
against it. For example, suppose the words to be printed are “The Court
Journal,” and that we want to “infold” in this the signature “Fr. B.,”
and suppose our _a_ fount to consist of Latin and our _b_ fount of
Italic letters. Now, in Bacon’s biliteral alphabet F is represented
by a a b a b, R by b a a a a, and B by a a a a b. Our MS. would,
therefore, appear thus:
THE COURT JOURNAL,
aab abbaa aaaaaab
In printing we should take the T and H from the _a_ fount, the E from
the _b_ fount, and so on. The words would then appear thus:
TH_E_ _COU_RT JOURNA_L_.
The decipherer would mark the letters according to their respective
founts, divide it into groups of five, and, knowing what letter each
group stands for, would read “Fr. B.”
In these days of publicity we find it hard to accept anything that
savors of mystery, and tolerance of opinion and freedom of speech
have made it difficult to credit that a man should have had motive
sufficient for putting a cipher in his books. Yet, at the present
day all internal state correspondence is carried on in cipher. Why?
Because every other state is a potential enemy. And this same reason
made cipher writing common among individuals in the sixteenth and
seventeenth centuries, for in those days when “a man’s head stood
tickle on his shoulders” every other individual, with perhaps the
exception of a few intimates, was a potential enemy. But in the case of
Francis Bacon there are special reasons why we should not wonder at his
putting a cipher, and that his own Biliteral Cipher, into his published
works; and we shall be able to show that so far from its being strange
that he should do so, it would be strange had he not. He invented
this cipher at the age of about sixteen or seventeen, when he was in
Paris. Nearly thirty years later, in 1605, he published his great
philosophical work _Of the Advancement of Learning_. It is significant
that he should have thought ciphers of sufficient importance to be
touched on in his work, and that he should have alluded to this
particular cipher as “the highest degree of cyphers which is to write
OMNIA PER OMNIA.”
In 1623 he published a Latin version of _The Advancement_ under the
title _De Augmentis Scientiarum_. This is not even a mere translation.
The book has been entirely rewritten and greatly enlarged, and is
translated into Latin professedly because he feared that the English
language wanted stability, while he believed that Latin would be the
language of the learned for all time. Surely now, after nearly two
crowded decades of Statecraft, of Law, of Philosophy, in which he has
“sounded all the depths and shoals of honour,” the eminent statesman,
the learned lawyer, the profound philosopher will find no room in his
immortal work for what we are apt to consider an ingenious amusement
for a schoolboy. Far from being omitted, however, the paragraph on
ciphers is enlarged to some pages, the greater part devoted to a
detailed description and examples of the cipher alluded to by him
nearly a score of years before, invented by him nearly half a century
earlier. But before we can realize the full force of these facts it
will be necessary to glance at some of the leading traits of Bacon’s
character. It is not too much to say that most people’s knowledge of
this great man is derived--directly or indirectly--almost exclusively
from one essay and one line of poetry; while few have read anything of
his writings except his essays. Macaulay’s essay, as far as it deals
with the moral side of Bacon’s character, is probably the greatest
libel on a great man that ever masqueraded in the “weed” of criticism,
and Pope’s line is the text of Macaulay’s essay in half a dozen words.
Both have painted as the portrait of Bacon a figure impossible in
human nature, “a vast idol,” as Hepworth Dixon well expresses it, “the
head of gold and feet of clay.” But this writer and Spedding have
dipped deep into the well of Truth, and with her waters have washed
away the mud which had been flung by the envious hands of the pigmy
contemporaries over whom Francis Bacon towered, and have shown the
whole figure to be sterling gold from head to foot. Even Macaulay and
Pope, however, while they mistake Bacon’s moral nature, acknowledge
the vastness and exquisiteness of his intellect, though again on this
side they fail to appreciate fully his “infinite capacity for taking
pains.” “His understanding,” says the brilliant essayist, “with great
minuteness of observation had an aptitude of comprehension such as has
never yet been vouchsafed to any other human being. The small fine mind
of Labruyere had not a more delicate tact than the large intellect
of Bacon. * * * His understanding resembled the tent which the fairy
Paribanov gave to Prince Ahmed. Fold it; and it seemed a toy for the
hand of a lady. Spread it; and the armies of powerful Sultans might
repose beneath its shade.”
Bacon’s, then, was just such a temperament as would have delighted
in the continual application of his cipher; one to which the
great labor involved--a labor which to most would be insufferable
drudgery--would have been a congenial exercise or might have proved
a welcome distraction from painful memories. There is one more point
which has an important bearing in this connection. The guiding star
of Bacon’s life was utility. Everything he studied--and what did he
not study?--he studied with a view to the use that could be made of
it. And utility was the mainspring of his least actions no less than
of his loftiest philosophy. If this be granted, and we believe no one
will for a moment dispute it, we have the strongest probability, nay,
the absolute certainty, that he used the cipher which he invented and
published. But where? Only one answer is possible--“In his printed
works.” For we have seen that it is to be performed by means of two
founts of type. One more question naturally suggests itself. “Had he
adequate motives for imposing on himself the labor which the extensive
use of the cipher involves?” This can only be answered when the secret
is no longer a secret, when the cipher is deciphered. The story as
deciphered by Mrs. Gallup gives an emphatic answer in the affirmative.
The statements unfolded by her are such that, while their publication
during his lifetime would have been productive of no good, it would
have cost him his life. But in the interests of truth and for his own
justification he wished them to be given to a future age. It was with
this object that he began to use the cipher, and he continued its
use as a distraction from the agonies of retrospection. We have now
established, as we think, beyond contradiction, the fact that so far
from being incredulous as to the existence of the biliteral cipher in
Bacon’s works, we ought to expect it. How is it, then, the reader will
say, that it has remained undiscovered for so long? It is the old story
once more of Columbus and the egg, or, as Mrs. Gallup aptly quotes from
Bacon himself, “in which sort of things it is the manner of men, first
to wonder that such a thing should be possible, and after it is found
out, to wonder again how the world should miss it so long.”
THE BACONIAN CIPHER.--III.
BY FLEMING FULCHER.
Our discussion of this question last week led us by _à priori_ argument
to the conclusion that Francis Bacon had put a cipher story into his
printed works.
Now, either this long-neglected cipher has at last been discovered
and deciphered or it has not. That is a truism. In the latter case
two, and only two, hypotheses are possible; if they can be shown to be
false, the affirmative proposition is established. These two hypotheses
are--(1) that a deliberate fraud is being perpetrated; (2) that with
perfectly honest intentions our authoress has, to use a familiar
expression, “cooked” the cipher, and consequently the story is in
reality the creation of her own brain. It would be a wonderful brain,
indeed, that could have devised and executed such a work. The first
supposition, we do not hesitate to say, will be at once dismissed by
anyone who has even a slight acquaintance with the authoress. But as
this is a privilege necessarily denied to the great majority of our
readers, let us examine the question impersonally and impartially on
its own merits. The “fraud” hypothesis would mean this--that the author
had deliberately invented the whole story, and stated without the
slightest foundation in fact that when resolved into Francis Bacon’s
biliteral alphabet it would be found to correspond, letter by letter,
with the two founts of Italic type which occur in such profusion in the
works deciphered--for it is through the Italics that the cipher runs.
Of the existence of different founts of Italic type in these works
there is no question. It has long been known, though never hitherto
explained; and anyone can verify this assertion by a glance at the
original editions, or at the facsimiles in _The Biliteral Cipher of Sir
Francis Bacon_.
Now, to ensure this correspondence between the cipher story and
the Italic print it would be necessary to count the letters in the
latter--in itself a task almost as great as the genuine deciphering.
And this would be but a small part of the labor required. It would
be far surpassed by the immense amount of literary, linguistic, and
historical knowledge and research indispensable for the avoidance of
errors which would soon be detected by the critics, and which would
at once expose the fraud. Again, we might easily conceive that the
author of our hypothetical fraud would pretend to find a secret history
of Bacon’s time, with all its tragic interest, but it would be hard
indeed to imagine that the idea would suggest itself of pretending
to find summaries of and poetical translations from the _Iliad_ and
the _Odyssey_, or that the author would be capable of expressing them
with such true Baconian intuition and freedom as they display. Still
less is it likely that the author would run the risk of wearying his
readers with directions for working out another cipher, which would
also, presumably, be non-existent, or with frequent repetitions, which,
however, will be seen to be necessary if the cipher is genuine. These
considerations, we are aware, though they amount to a moral certainty
of the impossibility of the “fraud” hypothesis, do not constitute a
mathematical proof of it. There is, however, one which seems to us
to do so. In the case of some of the letters the differences between
the two founts are so slight that it would be difficult, without more
study than most people would be prepared to give, to pronounce with
certainty to which fount these letters belonged. But, on the other
hand, in the case of many of the letters--most of the capitals and
some of the small letters--the differences are “so plaine as thou
canst not erre therein.” Now, as these letters stand in fixed places
and must be marked always _a_ or _b_ according to their respective
founts, the fraud would at once be detected, for it is a mathematical
impossibility that the _a_'s and _b_'s of the biliteral form of a story
not composed with reference to the actual letters could always fall in
the right place. So much for the fraud hypothesis. The hypothesis of
unintentional “cooking” may be very briefly dismissed. We had intended
to give some rough calculations which would have demonstrated the
untenability of this theory, but space and our readers’ patience, or
rather the certain want of the one and the probable exhaustion of the
other, forbid. When, however, it is considered that the cipher story
has to be got out letter by letter from the printed matter; that it
takes five letters of the latter to make one of the former; and that
if one letter were got out it would give no assistance in extracting
the next; unless there were a cipher there, it will be seen that no
assistance would be obtained from the doubtful letters, and that it
would be impossible to obtain any sense in this way. We have now fairly
examined the only two hypotheses on which it is possible that Mrs.
Gallup’s claim can be a “bogus” one, and proved them false. Thus we
are driven by the inexorable force of logic to the only remaining
conclusion: That Francis Bacon did put a cipher into his printed works;
that Mrs. Gallup has discovered it and has translated it.
We had intended to produce much corroborative evidence which, though
we now find it superfluous, we believe would have been interesting.
The exigencies of space again prevent us. One piece, however, is so
curious that we feel sure our readers will pardon us if we produce it.
We can vouch for the fact that it was unknown to our authoress when
the statement it corroborates was deciphered. In the north of London
there is still standing a square building of red brick, dating from
the reign of Henry VIII., which is known as Canonbury Tower. That in
no history of the tower, nor in any life of Bacon is mention made of
its being connected with him, is only one of the numerous instances of
the mystery which always meets us when we try to search deeper into the
life of Francis Bacon. Yet research at one of the public libraries has
recently elicited the fact that he took a lease of it for ninety-nine
years, that he lived there for some time, apparently in charge of the
Princes Henry and Charles, sons of James I., and that he was actually
living there at the time he received the seals.
Close under the ceiling, on the wall, in a dark corner of a passage in
the Tower, is painted an inscription consisting of the Sovereigns of
England from the Conquest. The names are mostly abbreviated, and with
one exception follow each other in the recognized order. But between
Elizabeth and James stands, in the same way as the other abbreviations,
Fr. No explanation of this interpolation appeared until the deciphered
story brought to light the facts that Queen Elizabeth was secretly
married to the Earl of Leicester, and that the great man whom we have
known as Francis Bacon was in reality her first-born son, and therefore
the true, though unacknowledged, heir to the throne.
We must not conclude without a slight tribute, not the less sincere
that it must of necessity be brief, to the merits of Mrs. Gallup’s
brilliant discovery, and the patient diligence with which she has
gradually unrolled the cerements and brought to light one by one truths
so long buried. We feel almost tempted to envy the feelings which
must have swept over her as the first sentence came to light from its
cipher tomb. They must have been such as stirred the soul of Columbus
when, after the long night of impatient expectation, the light of
morning broke and revealed to his triumphant gaze the shores of the
new continent. Let us frankly confess our gratitude to our authoress,
who has enabled us to feel once more the “touch of a vanished hand,”
to hear once more “the sound of a voice that is still”--a hand that
was ever stretched down from lofty height to help and raise humanity,
a voice that will ring trumpet-tongued through all ages--the hand and
voice of one who “had an aspect as if he pitied men.”
The reference to Canonbury Tower, by Mr. Fulcher, renders the
following quotations from a late number of “Baconiana” of
especial interest, as tracing the history of this ancient and
historic pile. The building is in a good state of preservation.
The lines are in an obscure part of the building but are
plainly observable, as was verified by a personal examination
on the part of Mrs. Gallup, in November last. It is one of the
interesting corroborations which are accumulating, and now
being understood in the light of the cipher disclosures, going
to show that Francis was entitled to a place in the line of
England’s kings.
A NEW LIGHT.
ON THE BACON--SHAKESPEARE CYPHER.
THE NINETEENTH CENTURY AND AFTER.--LONDON.
Of all the critical paradoxes that have ever been seriously advocated,
few have been received with such general and derisive indifference
as that which declares Bacon to have been the author of the dramas
ascribed to Shakespeare, and which couples this declaration with
another--more startling still--that these dramas are not dramas only,
but are besides a series of writings in cypher, whose inner meaning
bears no relation whatever to their ostensible meaning as dramas, but
which consist of memoranda or memoirs concerning Bacon himself, and
secrets of Queen Elizabeth. The mere theory that Bacon was the real
author of the plays, though the mass of Shakespeare’s readers still set
it down as an illusion, does not, indeed, contain anything essentially
shocking to common sense. On the contrary, it is generally recognised
that on purely _à priori_ grounds there is less to shock common sense
in the idea that those wonderful compositions were the work of a
scholar, a philosopher, a statesman, and a profound man of the world,
than there is in the idea that they were the work of a notoriously
ill-educated actor, who seems to have found some difficulty in signing
his own name. This latter idea, which is still generally accepted, has
little evidence to support it beyond tradition, which is strong, and
strong only, in the absence of evidence to the contrary; and were such
evidence forthcoming, it would be impossible for the candid mind to
reject it on the grounds that it pointed to any improbable conclusion.
But with regard to the theory of the cypher the case is different. This
is generally rejected or neglected both by scholars and the reading
public, not on the ground that the evidence for it is insufficient,
but on the ground that it is in itself so unlikely, so fantastic,
so impossible that it is not worth a sane man’s while to consider
the misguided ingenuities by which a few literary monomaniacs have
endeavoured to make it plausible. How is it possible, the ordinary
man asks, to believe that the finest and profoundest poetry in the
world--that the verses which give us in music the love of Romeo and
Juliet, the torture of Hamlet’s philosophy, the majestic calm of
Prospero’s--was composed, or rather constructed, as an elaborate verbal
puzzle, the object of which was to preserve for some future decipherer
a collection of political and mainly personal information, which
the author was too timid to confide himself to his contemporaries?
We might just as well believe that _Paradise Lost_ is in reality a
kind of _Pepys’ Diary_, in which the poet has recorded for posterity
the curtain-lectures of Mrs. Milton. Such is the argument which the
ordinary man uses; and if he consents to consider the matter a little
farther, and finds, as he will find, that the advocates of the cypher
theory maintain that Bacon, in the Shakespearian plays, has hidden away
not one cypher but six, his dismissal of their theory will be yet more
curt and contemptuous. Of this attitude of mind I am able to speak with
sympathy, for the excellent reason that it was till lately my own.
A remarkable volume, however, known at present to surprisingly few
readers, has been recently published, dealing with the subject before
us--a volume which at first I glanced at with apathetic distrust,
but which has caused me, when I read it carefully, to reconsider the
question. The contents of this volume I shall here briefly summarise,
leaving the reader to escape from its conclusions if he can. The volume
is called _The Bi-literal Cypher of Francis Bacon_. It was first,
I believe, printed privately, less than two years ago; and a small
second edition was issued last year to the public. I will begin with
describing its exact scope, which is limited. Of the six Baconian
cyphers alleged to exist in _Shakespeare_, this volume deals only
with one; and it is with this one only that I shall ask the reader to
concern himself.
The biliteral cypher possesses two remarkable characteristics, which it
is desirable to mention at starting, because they at once dispose of
all those _à priori_ objections which suggest themselves, as we have
just seen, against the cypher theory generally. In the first place
this cypher, whether it exists in the Shakespearian plays or not, is
demonstrably not the invention of any modern literary lunatic. It was
invented by Bacon himself; and an elaborate account of it, together
with examples of its use, is to be found, as will be shown presently,
in one of his most celebrated works. In the second place--and this is
a point which it is still more important to urge on the _à priori_
sceptic--the biliteral cypher has nothing whatever to do with the
composition or the wording of the works into which it is introduced.
There might be a biliteral cypher in _Hamlet_ from end to end, without
any thought of a cypher having been present to the author when he was
writing it. It is, in other words, altogether a matter of typography.
It depends not on what the author writes, but on the manner in which
he is printed. Accordingly, when what we may call the Baconian party
informs the world that they have discovered a biliteral cypher, of
which the author is Bacon, running through the plays of Shakespeare,
they are really indulging in a gross inaccuracy of language, which
does much to prevent a fair hearing being accorded to them. What they
really mean is that this biliteral cypher runs not through the plays
themselves, but through one particular edition of them--that is to say,
the celebrated first folio. This edition, as every student knows, is
remarkable for many extraordinary anomalies in its typography. Of these
anomalies an explanation is now for the first time offered to us. They
are presented to us--and it is claimed that they are thus explained
completely--as part and parcel of the newly discovered typographical
cypher. If we take these devices away the cypher disappears with them.
If we resort, with the aid of the printer, to devices of the same
kind, we could embody the cypher anew, and every sentence that Bacon
committed to it, in any book we might choose to reprint, so far as
its length permitted--in _Pickwick_, in _Vanity Fair_, in Tupper’s
_Proverbial Philosophy_, in the _Apocalypse of St. John_, or in the
advertisement-sheet of the _Times_.
I will now proceed to describe what the nature of the cypher is; and it
shall first be introduced to the reader in the words of Bacon himself.
In the _De Augmentis Scientiarum_ Bacon writes thus:[7]
Let us come to Cyphars. Their kinds are many, as Cyphars
simple, Cyphars intermixt with Nulloes, or Non-significant
characters; Cyphars of double letters under one character;
Wheele-cyphars, Kay-cyphars, Cyphars of Words, Others.... But
that jealousies may be taken away, we will annexe one other
invention, which, in truth, we devised in our own youth, when
we were in Paris: and it is a thing which yet seemeth to us
not worthy to be lost. It containeth _the highest degree of
Cypher_, which is to signify _omnia per omnia_, yet so as
the writng _infolding_ may bear a quintuple relation to the
writing infolded. No other condition or restriction whatsoever
is required. It shall be performed thus. First, let all the
letters of the alphabet, by transposition, be resolved into two
letters onely; for the transposition of two letters by five
placings will be sufficient for thirty-two differences, much
more for twenty-four, which is the number of the alphabet. The
example of such an alphabet is in this wise:
A aaaaa I abaaa R baaaa
B aaaab K abaab S baaab
C aaaba L ababa T baaba
D aaabb M ababb V baabb
E aabaa N abbaa W babaa
F aabab O abbab X babab
G aabba P abbba Y babba
H aabbb Q abbbb Z babbb
... When you addresse yourself to write, resolve your inward
infolded letter into this Bi-literarie Alphabet. Say the
interior letter be 'Fuge.’
_Example of Solution_
F U G E
aabab baabb aabba aabaa
Together with this you must have ready at hand a bi-formed
Alphabet, which may represent all the letters of the _Common
Alphabet_, as well Capitall Letters as the Smaller Characters,
in _a double forme_, as may fit every man’s occasion.
{ a b a b a b a b a b a b
{ _A_ ~A~ _a_ ~a~ _B_ ~B~ _b_ ~b~ _C_ ~C~ _c_ ~c~
{ a b a b a b a b a b a b
{ _D_ ~D~ _d_ ~d~ _E_ ~E~ _e_ ~e~ _F_ ~F~ _f_ ~f~
{ a b a b a b a b a b a b a b
{ _G_ ~G~ _g_ ~g~ _H_ ~H~ _h_ ~h~ _I_ ~I~ _i_ ~i~ _j_ ~j~
{ a b a b a b a b a b a b
{ _K_ ~K~ _k_ ~k~ _L_ ~L~ _l_ ~l~ _M_ ~M~ _m_ ~m~
{ a b a b a b a b a b a b
{ _N_ ~N~ _n_ ~n~ _O_ ~O~ _o_ ~o~ _P_ ~P~ _p_ ~p~
{ a b a b a b a b a b a b
{ _Q_ ~Q~ _q_ ~q~ _R_ ~R~ _r_ ~r~ _S_ ~S~ _s_ ~s~
{ a b a b a b a b a b a b a b
{ _T_ ~T~ _t_ ~t~ _V_ ~V~ _v_ ~v~ _u_ ~u~ _W_ ~W~ _w_ ~w~
{ a b a b a b a b a b a b
{ _X_ ~X~ _x_ ~x~ _Y_ ~Y~ _y_ ~y~ _Z_ ~Z~ _z_ ~z~
Now to the interior letter which is bi-literate, you shall fit
a bi-formed exterior letter, which shall answer the other,
letter for letter, and afterwards set it downe. Let the
_exterior_ example be, _Manere te volo, donec Venero_.
_An Example of Accommodation._
F U G E
a a b a b . b a a b b . a a b b a . a a b a a
_Ma ~n~ e ~r e~ te ~vo~ lo ~do~ n ec ~v~ en [ero]_
From this short example Bacon then proceeds to a longer one. He takes
an entire page from one of Cicero’s letters, and so prints it in
italics from two founts, similar to those in the alphabet just given,
that it infolds an interior letter from a Spartan general, 'Sent once
in a _scytale_, or round cypher’d staffe.’ The quotation from Cicero it
is unnecessary to give here. It is sufficient to say that, as printed
by Bacon, the ordinary reader would detect nothing out of the common
in it; but when once his eye is made alert by the knowledge that its
characters are drawn from two different founts of type, he can, by the
aid of the alphabets supplied by Bacon, easily decipher for himself the
Spartan message infolded in it.
It is the above passage, occurring in Bacon’s own work, which has led
to the alleged discovery set forth in the volume with which we are
now dealing; and the history of the discovery, as we there find it,
is curious. For a considerable time an American student, Dr. Owen,
had been working at the elucidation of another cypher altogether,
also alleged to be Bacon’s, and to exist in the Shakespearian plays.
This is the word-cypher. With its details we need not here concern
ourselves. It is enough to say that an American lady, Mrs. Gallup, was
his assistant. The above passage from Bacon arrested her attention, and
she became convinced that the Bi-literal Cypher had been described by
its inventor with special ulterior purpose and might possibly be found
co-existing in Shakespearian plays with the others. She was fortified
in this idea by the well known and unexplained peculiarities in the
printing of the first folio to which I have already alluded, and she
claims that on examining this volume she found her suspicions correct.
The result has been the book under review. After its publication Mrs.
Gallup came to England, her sole object being to examine certain rare
old books which could not be procured in America and find if possible
the first inception of the cypher writings, and in this she claims
to have been successful.[8] Before going farther I will direct the
reader’s attention once again to the bi-literal cypher itself, and
endeavor to make the nature of it clearer to him than it will probably
have been made by Bacon’s own, somewhat clumsy, exposition of it.
In the first place it should be observed that Bacon’s own name for
it--'bi-literal’--is essentially inaccurate and misleading. He means
by the word 'bi-literal’ that the letters of his second alphabet are
all formed out of two--that is to say, 'a’ and 'b,’ by arranging them
variously in so many groups of five. But the letters 'a’ and 'b,’ when
used for this purpose, are properly speaking not letters at all. They
have no phonetic value, they are simply arbitrary signs. Their function
would be fulfilled equally well or better by dots and dashes (. and
--), or else by the longs and shorts (- and °) which are familiar
to every schoolboy as symbols of prosodical quantity. The cypher is
a cypher of two signs, not of two letters. It is, in fact, merely a
species of Morse Code. Let the reader look back to the bi-literal code
or alphabet, as formulated by Bacon himself; and, for an example, let
him take four letters--a, b, e, and l--which I choose merely because
several different words can be spelt with them. He will see that for
'a’ the symbol is five 'a’s (a a a a a), for 'b’ four 'a’s and a 'b’ (a
a a a b), for 'e’ two 'a’s, a 'b’, and two 'a’s (a a b a a), and for
'l’ two consecutive 'a b’s and one 'a’ (a b a b a). Let him rid himself
of these 'a’s and 'b’s, and substitute dots and dashes; let every 'b’
be a dash, and every 'a’ a dot. The result will be just the same, and
his mind will most likely be clearer. His code signs for these four
letters will be as follows: A .....; B ....--; E ..--..; L.--.--. Now
let him write, in this code, 'ale,’ 'all,’ 'ball,’ 'bell,’ 'Abel.’ No
exercise could be easier. 'Ale’ will be ......--.--. ..--..; 'All’ will
be ......--.--..--.--.; 'Ball’ will be ....-- ..... .--.--..--.--.;
'Bell’ will be ....-- ..--...--.--. .--.--.; and 'Abel’ will be .....
....-- ..--...--.--. Now we come to the next part of our problem.
Having written 'ale,’ 'all,’ 'ball,’ 'bell,’ and 'Abel’ in dots and
dashes--which constitutes, we will suppose, some message which we wish
to convey--our next task is to hide this in a series of words with
which, seemingly, our message shall have no connection. For the moment,
instead of adopting the precise method of Bacon, let us take a much
cruder one, which will be at once grasped by everybody. Let us make
every capital letter signify a dot in our code, and every small letter
a dash; and let us arrange the code symbols of our five words in a
line, thus:
· · · · · | · - · - · | · · - · · | · · · · · | · - · - · | · - · - ·
· · · · - | · · · · · | · - · - · | · - · - · | · · · · - | · · - · ·
· - · - · | · - · - · | · · · · · | · · · · - | · · - · · | · - · - ·
We have here a series of ninety dots and dashes, and all we need now
do is to take any sentence we please--any chance fragment, whether
of prose or poetry--which contains not less than ninety letters, and
ignoring the ordinary use of small letters and capitals, write it
in such a way as to put a capital for every dot and a small letter
for every dash. Let us take, for example, the first verses of Gray’s
'Elegy,’ and write it in this manner. What we shall get is as follows:
THECU RfEwT OLlST HEKNE LlOfP ArTiN GDAYt
HELOW InGhE RdWiN DSSLo WLyOE RtHeL EaThE
PLOUG HMANh OMeWA RdPlO &c.
All the five words with which we started are here contained in our
cypher; and the decipherer has only to perform the childishly simple
task of putting a dot under each capital and a dash under each
small letter, and he has them back again in the form given above.
To illustrate the complete independence of what Bacon calls the
'infolding’ document from the 'infolded,’ let us set, one under the
other, one of Gray’s lines, and some different sets of words altogether.
THECU RfEwT OLlST HEKNE LlOfP ArTiN GDAY
OFMAN SfIrS TDiSO BEDIE NcEaN DtHeF RUIT
SINGA SoNgO FSiXP ENCEA BABfU LlOfR YEFO (ur) &c.
Every one of these lines, when resolved into dots and dashes, will be
the same, and will read thus:
· · · · · | · - · - · | · · - · · | · · · · · | · - · - · | · - · - ·
a | l | e | a | |
( · · · · - &c.)
( (b) &c.)
Bacon’s system differs from this merely in the fact that, instead of
using the capitals and the small letters of one ordinary alphabet as
the equivalents respectively of his 'a’s and 'b’s--that is to say, of
his dots and dashes--he uses two italic alphabets, of capitals and
small letters, complete; both the capitals and small letters of one
meaning dots or 'a’s, and the capitals and small letters of the other
meaning dashes or 'b’s. Let us now proceed to adopt his system a little
more nearly ourselves, diverging from it only in the fact that our two
complete alphabets, instead of being two slightly different varieties
of italics, shall consist, the one of italics and the other of ordinary
type, the italics representing the 'a’s or dots, the ordinary letters
the 'b’s or dashes; and we will, as preliminary examples, imagine
two cases, parallel to that which is alleged to be Bacon’s own. The
following lines are Byron’s, which I quote from memory; and they are
printed in accordance with the principles just laid down:
_S_a_int_ P_e_t_er s_a_t at t_h_e_ c_el_e_s_t_ia_l _gate_;
_The ke_y_s_ wer_e rusty_, a_n_d t_he lock w_as d_ull_,
So _l_i_ttl_e t_rouble h_a_d b_e_en g_ive_n of lat_e.
_No_t t_ha_t _the_ pla_ce_ by _any mea_n_s was_ f_ul_l,
_But_ sin_c_e t_h_e G_allic_ er_a_ E_ig_h_t_y-e_ig_h_t_
_Th_e de_vi_l_s had ta_'en _a_ lo_n_g_er, str_on_ger_ pu_ll_,
_A_nd a _pu_ll _a_l_l t_o_get_her, as _they say_
At _s_ea, _w_h_i_ch _dre_w _mos_t _sou_l_s the ot_he_r way_.
_T_he _a_ng_e_l_s_ al_l w_e_re singing o_u_t of t_un_e_,
_A_n_d ho_a_r_s_e_ wit_h_ ha_vi_ng l_i_t_tle el_s_e to_ d_o_,
_E_xc_eptin_g _to_ w_ind_ u_p th_e su_n_ a_nd moon_,
_And_ c_u_rb _a ru_n_aw_a_y yo_u_ng st_a[r or two, &c.]
To this passage, before examining it, let us add some others from
Milton, printed in the same manner; and let us imagine, for reasons
which will appear presently, that we have an edition of Milton in which
certain passages, and certain passages only--those which we shall
quote being among them--are printed in these two characters, and are
consequently at once distinguishable from the rest of the text.
_O_f _man_'s _fir_s_t_ dis_obe_d_ien_ce, a_n_d _t_he _f_r_uit_
O_f_ t_hat f_o_r_bid_de_n _tre_e, wh_o_s_e mo_r_tal_ t_aste_
B_r_o_u_gh_t de_at_h_ in_t_o t_he_ w_orl_d and _all ou_r wo_e_,
_W_it_h_ l_os_s _of E_d_e_n, ti_ll_ on_e_ g_r_ea_t_er _m_an
_R_e_st_o_re_ u_s, a_nd _r_e_g_a_i_n th_o_se _b_l_iss_f_ul seat_s,
_S_ing _Hea_v_e_n_l_y Muse.
* * * * *
_A l_itt_l_e _onward_ le_nd_ t_hy g_ui_di_ng ha_n_d
_To t_h_es_e _dark s_t_e_p_s--a li_t_tl_e _far_t_h_er _on,_
_For yonde_r _bank_ h_a_s _c_ho_i_c_e o_f _sun an_d _sh_a_de_.
* * * * *
_T_h_e_ su_n to_ me _i_s d_a_r_k_
_A_n_d s_i_le_nt _a_s _t_h_e_ m_o_o_n_
Wh_en sh_e _de_s_erts th_e n_ight,_
_H_i_d in_ h_e_r _v_a_can_t _in_t_erl_un_ar_ c_av_e.
* * * * *
Y_et_ o_n_ce _m_o_r_e, _oh y_e _lau_r_el_s, _and_ o_nce_ mor_e_
_Y_e m_y_r_t_le_s_ br_own, and_ i_v_y _n_ev_e_r _s_er_e_,
I _c_o_m_e _t_o _plu_c_k y_our _b_er_r_ie_s h_ar_s_h _a_n_d cru_de,
_A_n_d wit_h f_orc_ed _f_in_g_e_rs_ rude
Shatter your leaves, &c., &c.
Now in the above passages, if we except only the fact that the dots
and dashes of the cypher are represented in these by italics and
ordinary letters, whereas Bacon employs two slightly different forms of
italics, we have the biliteral cypher exemplified completely, though
with extreme simplicity. But we have not this only. As the reader will
see presently, we have exemplified in them also another of the claims
now made for Bacon in relation to works published under another name.
It may amuse some readers to extract the cypher in these passages for
themselves. They will begin thus, putting dots under the italics and
dashes under the ordinary letters:
_S_a_int_ P_e_t_er s_a_t at_.
.-... -.-.. .-. ..
They will then divide these dots and dashes into groups of five,
thus:.--..., --.--..,.--...; and on turning to Bacon’s code, already
given, they will find that these three groups mean I. W. I. Pursuing
this method, they will find that in the passage from Byron the
following meaning is 'infolded:’
'I, William Wordsworth, am the author of the Byron poems. Don Juan
contains my private prayers.’
In the passages from Milton, the 'infolded’ meaning is this:
'I, S. Pepys, in this and oth’r poems [Now to my Sams’n] hide my secret
frailties [Now to Lycidas] lest my wife, poor fool, should know.’
The reader will see from these examples how easily, if it were not for
the existence of copyright, any author might republish the works of
any other, introducing a cypher into them, in which he claimed them as
his own composition, and deposited in them any secrets which he wished
both to record and hide. The passages taken from Milton illustrate
certain farther points. The bi-literal cypher of Bacon exists, it is
alleged, in the first folio of Shakespeare, in those parts only which
are printed in italics, the end of one fragment of the secret writing
often breaking off in the middle of a letter, which is completed at
the beginning of another italic passage farther on, and sometimes in
another play; and parentheses occur like those in our imagined cypher
by Pepys, directing the decipherer where to look for the continuations.
The general character, then, of this biliteral cypher, and the manner
in which it is alleged to have been inserted in one edition of the
Shakespearian plays, must now be perfectly clear to even the most
careless reader; and we may therefore pass on to another portion of
our subject; for the claim of the Baconian theorists does not by any
means end with what they declare they have proved with regard to
the first folio of Shakespeare. They claim that the same cypher has
been introduced by Bacon into early or first editions of a number
of other works, some bearing his own name, and admittedly written
by himself, others bearing the name of well known persons, his
contemporaries. These include his own _Advancement of Learning_, 1605,
his _Novum Organum_, 1620, and his _History of Henry VII._, 1622; the
_Complaints_, 1591, and the _Colin Clout_, 1595, published under the
name of Spenser, and the edition of the _Faerie Queen_, 1596; certain
editions of certain plays ascribed to the four dramatists, Peele,
Greene, Marlowe, and Ben Jonson; and the edition published in 1628
of _The Anatomy of Melancholy_. Some of these works, in spite of the
presence of the cypher in them, it is not even claimed that Bacon
wrote himself. For example, so we are told, he expressly says in his
cypher that he used certain plays of Ben Jonson, with Ben Jonson’s own
permission, as a vehicle for his secret writing, having had, with the
exception of a few short masques, no part in the composition of any
of them. Bacon does claim, however, unless his cypher is altogether
an illusion, that of many of the works into which the cypher was
printed, he was himself the actual author--notably _The Anatomy of
Melancholy_, and the whole of the plays called Shakespeare’s. On this
latter point he insists over and over again, declaring that he borrowed
Shakespeare’s name as a pseudonym, and describing him as being nothing
more than the most accomplished actor of his time.
I say this, let me repeat, on the supposition that the cypher is not
altogether an illusion. Before considering whether this supposition is
correct, let us accept it for the moment as being so, and see what are
the conclusions which it forces on us. Of the four hundred and fifty
pages of which Mrs. Gallup’s volume, _The Bi-literal Cypher of Francis
Bacon_, consists, about three hundred and fifty are occupied with what
purport to be secret writings of Bacon’s, deciphered letter by letter,
from the passages printed in italics, in certain specified editions of
certain works, some published under other names, some admittedly his
own. Of these three hundred and fifty pages of secret writings, about
fifteen have been extracted from Spenser, Greene, Peele, and Marlowe,
and twenty-three from Ben Jonson; about a hundred and twenty-five from
writings admittedly his own, such as the _Novum Organum_ and _The New
Atlantis_, more than ninety from Burton, and more than fifty from the
first folio of Shakespeare. Much more, however, it is averred, remains
to be deciphered still.
And now let us ask what, continuing to suppose them genuine, these
secret writings contain, and why the author wrote them in such a
way. Described generally, they are a species of diary, comparable to
that of Pepys, also written in cypher--a diary to which the author
confides thoughts and hopes and feelings too intimate to be revealed to
contemporaries, and secrets the mere hinting of which would have placed
his life in danger. Of these it is enough for our present purpose to
mention a few.
Bacon declares in his cypher over and over again that he was not what
he appeared to be. He was not, as the world supposed, the son of Sir
Nicholas Bacon, but the son of the Queen of England by a private
marriage with Leicester--her eldest son and rightful heir to the
throne. He was ignorant of the fact till he reached his sixteenth year,
when he heard the story hinted by one of the ladies of the Court.
The Queen, in a fit of anger, admitted to him that it was true, the
marriage having taken place secretly in the Tower of London, when the
Queen, before her accession, and Leicester were both confined there.
For political reasons it was necessary to keep this a profound secret,
and the child was confided to Anne and Nicholas Bacon, to be brought
up as their own and educated as a private person, the Queen being
determined never, under any circumstances, to acknowledge him. To
reveal the truth himself would, he believed, be to forfeit his life;
and hence, smarting under an obstinate sense of wrong, he confided
his history to the keeping of elaborate cyphers, trusting that future
students would unravel them for a future age. The moment the Queen
found that the boy had discovered his parentage he was sent to France
under the care of Sir Amyas Paulet, and did not come back to England
till the death of his foster-father. When in France he conceived
an absorbing and romantic passion for Marguerite, wife of Henry of
Navarre, who returned or pretended to return it. Expectations were
rife at the time that she and her husband were to be divorced; and Sir
Amyas Paulet attempted to arrange with Queen Elizabeth that, should
the divorce take place, Marguerite and Bacon should be married. The
divorce, however, was not obtained, nor would Queen Elizabeth listen to
the proposal. This early romance made a profound impression on Bacon,
and he wrote, long afterwards, _Romeo and Juliet_ in commemoration of
it.
Another part of the story which he tells is this. He was not, he says,
the Queen’s only child by Leicester. He had a brother, and this brother
was Essex; and of all the incidents of his life with regard to which
he is most anxious to set forth the truth and with regard to which he
fears that his memory is most likely to be wronged, those connected
with his conduct towards his unfortunate brother stand foremost.
That he does not venture openly to give even a hint of the truth with
regard to this matter, or his parentage and rightful position, he
declares with an almost wearisome and not very dignified persistence;
and he is, he says, driven to hide himself in tortuous cyphers, which
will keep him safe as a coney hiding in a valley of rocks.
On the contents of the biliteral cypher, considered under their more
general aspect, we need not dwell longer. Enough has been said to
show that, if it be a genuine document, the author had intelligible
reasons for embodying it in this singular form. What mainly concerns
us here is its purely literary significance, especially as regards
the authorship of the so-called plays of Shakespeare. The mere fact
that this biliteral Baconian cypher is incorporated in the first
collected edition of these plays does not in itself prove, as we have
seen already, that Bacon was the author of _King John_ and _Romeo and
Juliet_, any more than it proves that he was the author of _The Fox_,
which, though the same cypher occurs in it, is admitted to be Ben
Jonson’s. The only evidence as to this point with which the biliteral
cypher supplies us consists not in its existence in an edition of
Shakespeare’s plays, but solely in the assertions which it contains
that Bacon did actually write them, coupled with further statements
relating to other cyphers--the word-cypher more particularly, also
alleged to be contained in them. So far as concerns the biliteral
cypher itself, the mere assertions as to authorship which Bacon makes
by means of it have as much or as little value as they would have
had had he made them openly. Their value depends on the value we are
inclined to attach to his word, coupled with the probabilities of the
case as estimated by the critic and the historian. The word-cypher,
however, stands on a different footing. It depends on the text itself,
not on the manner in which the text is printed; and the author of
this cypher must necessarily have been the author of the plays. Now
the biliteral cypher contains, if it really be a genuine document,
elaborate instructions as to the word-cypher, and directions as to the
method of unravelling it. That such instructions should be given if
the word-cypher is a mere illusion, we need hardly say is incredible.
Hence, according to all rules of common sense, our belief in the former
carries with it a belief in the latter; and a belief in the latter--the
word-cypher--also carries with it the further belief that Bacon
actually was the author of the Shakespearian plays.
Whether such be the case or no, it is not my purpose to inquire. All
that at this moment I am anxious to impress upon the reader is the
fact that, in taking their stand on this new alleged discovery--this
discovery of a cypher heretofore not dreamed of--a typographical cypher
depending on the use of two printer’s alphabets, nearly alike but yet
ascertainably different, the Baconians have shifted this controversy to
wholly novel ground. The word-cypher is a cypher which, even those who
believe in it admit, requires for its interpretation a certain amount
of conjecture; but the biliteral cypher, if it exists at all, can be
proved to exist, or, in the opposite case, it can be proved to be a
mere hallucination, by the aid of a magnifying-glass applied to certain
printed pages. There is no occasion here for any abstruse literary
reasoning. There is no occasion for any literary reasoning at all.
Either certain editions of the various books in question--the first
folio of Shakespeare being the most important and the most famous of
them--are, in so far as the italicised portions of them are concerned,
systematically printed in letters from two different founts of type, or
they are not. If, as is absolutely indisputable, two different founts
are used, the letters from these founts are used in such a manner that,
when separated into groups of five, and expressed as dots and dashes,
each of these groups will denote a single letter, in accordance with
the code set forth by Bacon himself; or else they will not do this,
or will do so only by accident, most of the groups having no meaning
whatsoever. And lastly, if these groups do assume a consecutive
meaning, and actually give us a series of single letters, the letters
will form words and intelligible sentences, or they will not. The whole
case is one for simple ocular demonstration.
To make this demonstration conclusive in the eyes of the world
generally would, no doubt, demand some time and labour. The question
is, are there sufficient _primâ facie_ grounds for supposing that
possibly the Baconian theory is true, to make it worth while for
sceptics to undertake the inquiry? For my own part, unhesitatingly I
venture to say that there are. In the first place, this cypher, as
no one can deny, was familiar to Bacon, who claims to have himself
invented it. He has himself admittedly supplied us with our specimen
page of it, a passage from Cicero, reproduced by Mrs. Gallup in
photographic facsimile, together with a companion page, in which
Bacon has placed side by side the two alphabets employed, so that
the differences between their respective letters may be more easily
realised. Thus the biliteral cypher exists in one page of Bacon’s works
at all events. There is nothing, therefore, fantastic in the idea that
it may exist elsewhere. The only possibility of any doubt with regard
to the question is due altogether to a purely physical circumstance.
The types employed in printing the specimen passage from Cicero were
designedly made of such a size, and the differences between the two
alphabets were accentuated in such a manner, that the ordinary eye
could readily learn to distinguish the letters that stand for dashes
from those that stand for dots. Even here, however, the differences
are for the most part so small and delicate that, in order to perceive
them, we must scrutinise the page attentively; and an hour of such
attention may elapse before we cease to be puzzled. But in the first
folio of Shakespeare, as in most of the other volumes in which it is
contended that the same type occurs, the type is much smaller. Although
even the naked eye can be soon trained to perceive that in many cases
the letters belong to different founts, yet these differences are of so
minute a kind that in other cases they elude the eye without the aid of
a magnifying-glass; and even with the aid of a magnifying-glass--I say
this from experience--the eye of the amateur, at all events, remains
doubtful, and unable to assign the letters to this alphabet or to that.
The majority of educated persons, therefore, in the present state of
the controversy, if they give to the italicised passages of the first
Shakespearian folio and the other books in question only so much
time and attention as may be expected from interested amateurs, may
reasonably, if not rightly, entertain the opinion that the larger part
of the differences alleged to exist between the italic letters employed
are entirely imaginary, since their eyes are unable to detect them;
that the supposed cypher is altogether a delusion, and has been read
into the texts, not out of them, by Mrs. Gallup and her coadjutors.
On the other hand, the fact that the amateur finds himself, after
weeks of study, still completely bewildered in his attempt to allocate
the various letters to two different founts of type, in such a way
as to elicit a sentence or even a word in groups of dots and dashes,
according to the Baconian code, must not be taken too hastily as a
proof that the alleged cypher is imaginary. Mrs. Gallup has done much,
though not so much as she might have done, to enable her readers to
settle this point for themselves. She has reproduced in facsimile from
the original editions Bacon’s preface to the _Novum Organum_, 1620;
and the Epistle Dedicatory of the so-called Spenser’s _Complaints_,
1591, in both of which it is contended that the Baconian cypher occurs.
She gives similar facsimiles also of the Epistle Dedicatory, and the
Commendatory Verses prefixed to the first folio of Shakespeare. She
gives also an enlarged diagram of the different forms of italics used
by Bacon in the printing of the _Novum Organum_; and of his preface to
that work, and of the Epistle Dedicatory of Spenser’s _Complaints_, she
gives the cypher meaning extracted letter by letter, each italic being
thus allocated to its own alleged fount. Is this allocation merely
fanciful or not?
I have studied for some weeks Mrs. Gallup’s facsimilies myself, and
I give my experience, purely as that of an amateur, for what it is
worth. When I examined the facsimiles first I could make nothing out of
them; and of those from the first folio I can make very little still.
All the letters seemed too much alike to allow of my separating them
systematically into two founts of type. Differences which I thought I
had discovered at one moment altogether vanished the next, and gave
place to others, which soon, in their turn, escaped me. But with regard
to the facsimiles from the _Novum Organum_ and Spenser’s _Complaints_
the case was otherwise, and for a very simple reason. In the facsimiles
from the folio the type is extremely small, the original page having
been reduced so as to accommodate it to an octavo volume. But in the
Bacon and Spenser facsimiles the type is of the size of the original.
It is comparatively large, and a study of it is proportionately easier.
In these pages I was very soon able to distinguish the different founts
to which several of the letters belong. I could presently do the same
with regard to several letters more; and at last I was more or less
master of two-thirds of the alphabet in such a way that I was able,
with some confidence, to translate them, when in one form into a dot,
and when in another form into a dash. I have tried this experiment with
a large number of passages, and, comparing my interpretations with
that of Mrs. Gallup herself, I have found that it coincides with hers,
sometimes in four cases out of seven, and not infrequently in five.
Many of the letters still continued to baffle me; but with regard to
some I found myself always right; and the dots or dashes into which I
had resolved these have invariably coincided with the requirements of
the cypher, as Mrs. Gallup interprets it. It appears to me to be almost
inconceivable that multiplied coincidences such as these can be the
work of chance, or that they can originate otherwise than in the fact
that in these pages at all events--the preface to the _Novum Organum_,
printed in 1620, and in the Dedication of Spenser’s _Complaints_,
printed in 1591--a biliteral cypher exists, in both cases the work
of Bacon; and if such a cypher really exists here, the probabilities
are overwhelming that Mrs. Gallup is right, and that we shall find it
existing in the first folio of Shakespeare also.
It is unfortunate that Mrs. Gallup, whilst giving us the facsimiles
already mentioned, has not given us any from the Shakespearian plays
themselves, together with specimens of the cypher in them, interpreted
letter by letter. I doubt, however, if such facsimiles would be
conclusive if the page of the original folio were reduced to the size
of an octavo. The process which ought to be adopted is one entirely the
reverse of this. Passages from the first folio should be given not in
a reduced but in an enlarged facsimile, so that the letters should, if
possible, be something like half an inch high. Copies, moreover, of the
letters, in all the forms in which they occur, should be arranged side
by side in alphabets, according to the founts to which they belong;
and a very few passages, if enlarged and illustrated thus, would be
sufficient to show whether the admitted peculiarities of the type are
merely accidental, as has vaguely been assumed hitherto, or are really
the vehicle of an elaborately arranged cypher.
In order to show the reader that Bacon’s biliteral cypher can easily be
printed in such a way that the inexperienced eye would wholly fail to
detect it, and the uninstructed critic would reject its existence as a
myth, I subjoin a passage taken from Bacon’s own chapter on cyphers:
~N~_ei_~t~_her_ ~is i~_t a_ ~s~_ma_~l~_l th_~in~_g t_~h~_ese_
_cyp_~h~_er cha_~ra~_c_~t~_er_~s~ _h_~av~_e, an_~d~ _ma_~y~
~pe~_rforme._ ~F~_or_ ~b~_y t_~h~_is_ ~A~_rt a_ ~w~_a_~y~
~is~ _ope_~n~_ed_ _where_~b~_y a man m_~a~_y ex_~pre~_sse_
_and s_~i~_g_~n~_ifi_~e~ _th_~e~ _int_~e~_ntio_~ns~ _of_
~his~ _mi_~n~_de at a_~ny~ _dista_~n~_ce of p_~la~_ce_, _b_~y
obj~_ec_~t~_s wh_~i~_ch_ ~m~_ay be pr_~e~_s_~e~_nted_ _t_~o~
_his eye an_~de~ _ac_~com~_modat_~ed~ _to_ ~t~_he_ _e_~ar~_e
p_~r~_ovi_~ded~ ~t~_hose o_~bj~_e_~ct~_s b_~e~ ~c~_ap_~ab~_le
o_~f a tw~_of_~o~_ld d_~iff~_er_~e~_nce_ _on_~ly~,
~a~_s b_~y be~_lls,_ ~b~_y_ ~t~_ru_~m~_pe_~ts~, ~b~_y_
_l_~i~_ght_~s~, _b_~y~ _tor_~c~_hes, by th_~e~ _re_~po~_rt_
~o~_f m_~u~_ske_~t~_s, and by_ ~an~_y instrum_~e~_n_~ts~
_o_~f li~_ke_ ~n~_a_~t~_ure._ ~B~_ut_ ~t~_o pur_~s~_ue o_~ur~
_en_~t~_erpris_~e~ _when...._
Into this passage I have printed the following lines in cypher:
The star of Shakespeare pales; but, brighter far,
Burns, through the dusk he leaves, an ampler star.
Founts of italic type might be found the differences between which
would be much more minute than those existing between the two used
here, but which would yet be visible to the trained eye of a printer’s
reader, and by means of which a cypher might be printed quite legible
to the expert, but undistinguishable for all the world besides. If,
therefore, a biliteral Bacon’s cypher does really exist in the first
folio of Shakespeare, we must be prepared to find that the unravelling
of it is a matter of considerable difficulty, and that the ocular
evidences of its existence are a long time in becoming plain to us.
I must now draw attention to another aspect of the question. If the
cypher does not really exist, the entire matter, amounting to between
three and four hundred pages, which Mrs. Gallup professes to have
deciphered, is an elaborate literary forgery. I recommend the reader
to study these pages, and ask if their character is such as to suggest
this conclusion. I can here quote one passage only, which is alleged
to have been printed, not into the Shakespearian folio, but into the
_New Atlantis_. It refers to the writer’s supposed early love affair.
If it be a forgery, it is one of extraordinary ingenuity; so full does
it seem to me of pathetic and dignified beauty, and so strongly does it
bear the marks of genuine and acute sincerity.
Th’ fame of th’ gay French Court had come to me even then, and
it was flattering to th’ youthfull and most naturall love o’
th’ affaires taking us from my native land, insomuch as th’
secret commission had been entrusted to me, which required
most true wisdome for safer, speedier conduct then ’twould
have if left to th’ common course of businesse. Soe with much
interessed, though sometimes apprehensive minde, I made myself
ready to accompany Sir Amyias to that sunny land o’ th’ South
I learned so supremely to love, that afterwards I would have
left England and every hope of advancement, to remain my
whole life there. Nor yet could this be due to th’ delight of
th’ country by itselfe; for love o’ sweete Marguerite, th’
beautifull young sister o’ th’ king (married to gallant Henry
th’ King o’ Navarre) did make it Eden to my innocent heart; and
even when I learned her perfidie, love did keepe her like th’
angels in my thoughts half o’ th’ time--as to th’ other half
she was devilish, and I myselfe was plung’d into hell. This
lasted duri’g many yeares, and, not until four decades or eight
lustres o’ my life were outliv’d, did I take any other to my
sore heart. Then I married th’ woman who hath put Marguerite
from my memorie--rather I should say hath banished her portrait
to th’ walles of memorie only, where it doth hang in th’ pure
undimmed beauty of those early dayes.
W. H. MALLOCK.
THE NEW SHAKESPEARE-BACON CONTROVERSY.
BY GARRETT P. SERVISS.
THE COSMOPOLITAN, NEW YORK, MARCH, 1902.
That smoldering question which nothing seems able to extinguish, “Did
Shakespeare write the Shakespeare plays?” and the related question, “Is
there a cipher hidden in those plays, which not only reveals their real
authorship but betrays important state secrets of the time of Queen
Elizabeth?” have just been brought before the public mind in a new and
startling aspect.
And this time the problem is presented in a form which renders it
capable of being submitted to something like a scientific test. It
is, in fact, put upon a mechanical basis, so that it becomes a mere
question of distinguishing between different shapes of printers’ types.
Mrs. Elizabeth W. Gallup, of Detroit, Michigan, avers that while
engaged in an examination of old editions of the works of Francis
Bacon, trying to trace there a “Cipher Story,” the key to which was
discovered by Dr. O. W. Owen, to whom she was acting as an assistant,
she became convinced that the careful explanation which Bacon has
given in his celebrated work, _De Augmentis Scientiarum_, of a species
of secret writing, invented by him, and which he calls a “Bi-literal
Cipher,” was intended to serve some other purpose besides that of a
mere treatise on the subject.
This Cipher is based upon the use of two slightly different fonts of
type and, as we shall presently see, has nothing whatever to do with
the literary form or sense of the books in which it is alleged to be
concealed.
Remembering those puzzling italicized passages that occur in the First
Folio edition of Shakespeare’s Plays, published in 1623, and for
which no satisfactory explanation has ever been offered, Mrs. Gallup
immediately examined them to see if, perchance, the bi-literal cipher
described by Bacon might not be found in them. Apparently she was not
confident of success, but, to her great surprise, as she affirms, the
cipher was there!
She began to read it out, and if the story of what she says she found
is true, nobody can wonder that she felt she had made _the_ literary
discovery of the age.
Let us say at once that it is not only in the Shakespeare Plays that
the alleged cipher is hidden, but it appears also in the works that
were published under Bacon’s own name, being confined, as in the plays,
to the italicized portions--italicized for no discoverable reason--and
also, surprising to relate, in a variety of other books of the
Elizabethan period, such as Spenser’s _Shepherd’s Calendar_ and _Faerie
Queene_, Burton’s _Anatomy of Melancholy_, the plays of Peele, Greene
and Marlowe, and even some parts of the plays of Ben Jonson.
Through all of these works, according to Mrs. Gallup, who has just
filled a large octavo volume with her asserted revelations, runs a
story, composed by Francis Bacon, and repeated over and over again, in
varying, but never contradictory, forms, in which he affirms that he
was the son of Queen Elizabeth by Robert Dudley, the Earl of Leicester,
to whom she was secretly married in the Tower of London when before her
accession to the throne, both she and the Earl were imprisoned there;
that, in order to keep his birth secret, he was given, while a child,
to Sir Nicholas Bacon and his wife Anne, who brought him up as if he
were their own son; that he did not discover the truth about his birth
until he was sixteen years old, when an intimation of it reached his
ears through the indiscretion of a lady of the court, and then his
mother, the Queen, in a fit of passion, confessed the truth to him, and
immediately afterward sent him away to France in charge of Sir Amyas
Paulet; and that while he was in southern France he fell in love with
Marguerite, the beautiful wife of King Henry of Navarre, and the play
of _Romeo and Juliet_ was afterward based upon this romantic episode in
his life. In other parts of the story Bacon is represented as affirming
that Queen Elizabeth had another son from her secret union with the
Earl of Leicester, this being no less a person than the Earl of Essex,
who was afterward executed for high treason by his mother’s command.
Essex was thus, according to the story, Bacon’s younger brother, and,
in the Cipher, Bacon appears as constantly lamenting the share which he
unwillingly had in the tragic fate of his brother.
This story, whether it truly exists in the alleged Cipher or is the
product of imagination, cannot fail to hold the reader’s attention, but
before pursuing it farther let us see what the Bi-literal Cipher is.
In his work, _De Augmentis Scientiarum_, Bacon first shows that a
cipher alphabet can be formed by various transpositions of the two
leading letters of the ordinary alphabet, a and b, in sets of five,
each set representing one letter of the Cipher, thus:
* * * * *
Such an alphabet in itself would be of no use for secret writing. For
instance, let us print the word “Bacon” in it. It would run: aaaab,
aaaaa, aaaba, abbab, abbaa. If a series of sentences were written,
or printed, in that manner it is evident that the merest tyro would
quickly discover the key and decipher the message.
Bacon’s next step, then, is to contrive a way in which the alphabet
above described can be “infolded” in a printed book so that each set
of five successive letters composing the words of the book, without
changing their order and without reference to the meaning that they
convey to the ordinary reader, shall represent one of the letters of
the hidden Cipher. For this purpose it is necessary to employ two fonts
of type, in which the forms of the letters slightly differ. Call one
the “a font” and the other the “b font;” then every letter in the “a
font” will stand for “a” in making up the sets of five a’s and b’s that
compose the letters of the cipher alphabet, and similarly every letter
of the b-font will stand for “b.”
* * * * *
_Note_: _An extended illustration of the working out of
the cipher is omitted here, the manner of it being fully
illustrated in two other parts of the volume._
Thus, by simply printing three sentences, containing one hundred and
twenty-five letters in two kinds of type, another entirely different
sentence, containing only twenty-five letters, is inclosed in them,
and can be read only by one who holds the clue to the double system of
types, which Bacon calls a Bi-literal Cipher. It is not necessary in
any manner to interfere with the order of the words in the original
work, and any book in existence could be made to hold a cipher of this
kind. The only restriction upon the proceedings of the person who
inserts the cipher is imposed by the necessity of using up five letters
of the original for every one letter of his inclosed cipher.
In Bacon’s alleged use of the Cipher he is said to have included it
only in the italicized portions of the books wherein it is found, using
two fonts of Italic letters.
Now, even if the existence of such a Cipher in the Folio Edition of
Shakespeare’s Plays, whose typographical eccentricities have long been
a puzzle, can be established, that fact would not in itself affect the
question of the authorship of the Plays. Being simply a matter of the
types employed, any printer, if he had the opportunity--not to speak of
a sufficient motive--could have inserted the story which Mrs. Gallup
professes to have extracted.
Of course Bacon himself could thus have inserted it without having had
anything to do with the original composition of the Plays. In fact,
however, he claims in the alleged Cipher Story that he was the real
author of those immortal compositions, as well as of other books, such
as Spenser’s _Faerie Queene_ and Marlowe’s plays.
But the reader is likely to say: “This is so simple a matter that
it should have been cleared up long ago. If there are two kinds
of type used in the Folio Edition of Shakespeare’s Plays, and if
all the italicized portions are printed in that manner, and filled
with a secret story, it ought to be the easiest thing in the world
to establish the fact by simple examination.” So it would be if
the fonts of type alleged to have been employed by Bacon were as
clearly distinguished from one another as are those which he used
in illustrating the principle of the Bi-literal Cipher in his _De
Augmentis_, or those which we have selected for a similar purpose.
But, in fact, there is no such clear distinction. It may indeed
be said that Bacon would have defeated his own end by making the
differences of type manifest at the first glance. He had to choose
letters which should be so nearly alike that they would pass under the
ordinary reader’s eyes without exciting suspicion, and yet should be
sufficiently varied to be distinguished without too great difficulty
when at last the key was discovered and the deciphering begun.
Not only are the differences admitted by Mrs. Gallup, especially in
the case of the small characters, to be so slight that very close
examination is required to preceive them, but she avers that Bacon was
not satisfied with using only two fonts; he employed many different
fonts, and sometimes changed the order of their distribution among the
“A’s” and “B’s,” apparently for the purpose of more surely concealing
his cipher, for he is represented as saying that his life would be
in danger if the fact became known that he was using this method of
handing down to posterity secrets concerning the highest personages in
the State which the few who were acquainted with them dared not whisper
above their breath.
As Mr. Mallock has suggested, the thing to do is not to photograph the
pages said to contain the cipher down to the dimensions of an octavo,
as has been done, but to magnify them, in order that the typographical
variations may be made more evident. By adopting that plan it may be
possible to submit the whole question to a decisive test. At any rate,
it is a question that can be tested by a mechanical examination, and
there certainly seems to be no occasion for the display of heat and bad
temper that has been called forth in some quarters by the discussion.
On the contrary, it is full of interest, whichever way it may be
decided.
Returning to the revelations which Mrs. Gallup assures us have been
extracted from the books named with the aid of the Bi-literal Cipher,
we come upon another point more surprising still. The Bi-literal Cipher
is believed by her to have been intended as a key to other, more
difficult, forms of cipher embedded by Bacon in his various works.
The most important of these is described as a “word-cipher,” the
translation of which does not depend upon the use of any special type,
but is to be effected by means of certain key-words and directions
given in the Bi-literal Cipher. This Word-Cipher, if it exists,
could not have been inserted in a work originally composed without
reference to it, but could only be worked into the web and woof of the
composition by the original author, and to assert, as the story does,
that Bacon was able to compose the finest plays that we know under
the name of Shakespeare merely as cloaks for other hidden plays and
narratives is indeed to tax credulity to its limit.
It will be observed that the “word-cipher” does not admit of any such
mechanical test as can be applied to the Bi-literal Cipher, but is a
subject for choice, judgment and ingenuity in interpretation, so that,
to anybody not predisposed to accept it, it can never appeal with
convincing force, as the Bi-literal would do if once the typographical
differences on which it is based could be completely established. Let
the Bi-literal Cipher’s presence be demonstrated beyond a peradventure,
and then the word-cipher would stand a better chance of acceptance,
because the other asserts its existence. The word-cipher compels those
who accept it to believe that the person, who put the ciphers in
Shakespeare’s plays and Bacon’s learned treatises and the poems and
dramatic compositions of Marlowe, Spenser, Peele and Greene and the
_Anatomy of Melancholy_ called Burton’s, actually produced all of those
works.
Using the Word-Cipher, and following the clues accorded by the
Bi-literal, Mrs. Gallup has recently deciphered, as she avers, one of
the concealed tragedies of Bacon. It is called _The Tragedy of Anne
Boleyn_, and is made up of bits from many of Shakespeare’s plays,
matched together. For instance, we find Romeo’s words put into the
mouth of King Henry VIII, and applied by him to Anne Boleyn:
“O she doth teach the torches to burn bright!
It seems she hangs upon the cheek of night
As a rich jewel in an Ethiop’s ear;
Beauty too rich for use, for earth too dear!”
All this is well calculated to repel dispassionate investigation of
Mrs. Gallup’s claims because it so far offends the common sense and
judgment of the reader that he must be tempted to throw the whole
thing overboard at once. If the alleged discovery can ever be rendered
acceptable to unprejudiced investigation, it must be on the basis
of the Bi-literal Cipher alone. Let Mrs. Gallup successfully meet
Mr. Mallock’s challenge by taking, as he suggests, the epistle from
Macbeth to Lady Macbeth (_Macbeth_, Act. I, Scene 5), which is one of
the passages in the first Folio printed in Italics, and indicating
under each letter the font to which, according to her interpretation,
it belongs. Then let Mr. Mallock have the passage photographically
enlarged, so that the dullest eye can detect the smallest differences
in the letters, and when the result is printed the public will have a
fair chance to judge for itself.
But, whatever the outcome of the discussion aroused by Mrs. Gallup’s
book may be, the story that Francis Bacon appears to tell in its pages
does not fail in interest. The well-known fact that historical rumor
has long whispered hints touching many of his alleged revelations
serves to draw attention to them. Some of Mrs. Gallup’s critics
intimate that those rumors may really be the sole foundation of her
decipherings. But they do not accuse her of wilful invention, and
if she has dreamed these things it must be admitted that she dreams
interestingly.
Listen to Bacon’s complaint of the injustice done him, as Mrs.
Gallup says she reads it in the double types of the “_Advancement of
Learning_”:
“Queen Elizabeth, the late soveraigne, wedded, secretly, th’
Earle, my father, at th’ Tower of London, and afterwards at th’
house of Lord P---- this ceremony was repeated, but not with
any of the pompe and ceremonie that sorteth wel with queenly
espousals, yet with a sufficient number of witnesses.
“I therfore, being the first borne sonne of this union should
sit upon the throne, ruling the people over whom the Supreame
Soveraigne doth shewe my right, as hath beene said, whilst
suff’ring others to keepe the royall power.
“A foxe, seen oft at our Court in th’ forme and outward
appearance of a man, named Robert Cecill--the hunchback--must
answer at th’ Divine Araignment to my charge agains’ him, for
he despoyled me ruthlessly. Th’ Queene, my mother, might in
course of events which follow’d their revelations regarding my
birth and parentage, without doubt having some naturall pride
in her offspring, often have shewne us no little attenntion
had not the crafty foxe aroused in that tiger-like spiritt th’
jealousy that did so tormente the Queene [that] neyther night
nor day brought her respite from such suggestio’s about my hope
that I might bee England’s King.
“He told her my endeavours were all for sov’raigntie and
honour, a perpetuall intending and constant hourlie practising
some one thing urged or imposed, it should seeme, by that
absolute, inhere’t, honorably deriv’d necessitie of a
conservation of roiail dignity.
“He bade her observe the strength, breadth and compasse, at an
early age, of th’ intellectual powers I displaied, and ev’n
deprecated th’ gen’rous disposition or graces of speech which
wonne me manie friends, implying that my gifts would thus, no
doubt, uproot her, because I would, like Absalom, steale awaie
th’ people’s harts and usurp the throne whilst my mother was
yet alive.”
Bacon appears also as frequently lamenting the tragic death of his
(alleged) brother Robert, Earl of Essex, and in _King Lear_ Mrs. Gallup
reads from the Bi-literal Cipher a statement that Essex’s life might
have been saved if a signet-ring that he desired to have presented to
his mother had reached her: “As hee had beene led to bel’eve he had but
to send the ring to her and th’ same would at a mome’t’s warni’g bring
rescue or reliefe, he relyed vainly, alas! on this promis’d ayde....
It shal bee well depicted in a play, and you wil be instructted to
discypher it fully.”
In Ben Jonson’s _Masques_, Mrs. Gallup says, she finds among other
things this statement in Bacon’s Bi-literal Cipher:
“The next volume will be under W. Shakespeare’s name. As some
which have now been produced have borne upon the title-page his
name though all are my owne work, I have allow’d it to stand on
manie others which I myselfe regard as equal in merite. When I
have assum’d men’s names, th’ next step is to create for each
a stile naturall to th’ man that yet should [let] my owne bee
seene, as a thrid o’ warpe in my entire fabricke soe that it
may be all mine.”
In the same work Bacon is represented as saying that Spenser, Greene,
Peele and Marlowe have sold him their names. This, it would appear, was
not the case with Ben Jonson, of whom he speaks as his friend, and the
implication is that Jonson knew what Bacon was doing with regard to the
others.
Several times Bacon is made to refer to the murder of Amy Robsart, the
Earl of Leicester’s wife, of whom he intimates, as rumor has long done,
that the Earl wished to rid himself in order to marry Elizabeth.
The stories of his royal birth, of his love for Marguerite of Navarre,
and all the rest of the tale are repeated again and again from the
various books in which the Cipher is said to lie. Frequently Bacon
appeals to the unknown decipherer whom he trusts some future time to
produce, urging him to spare no pains to unearth the hidden things and
promising him undying fame for his labor.
Among other things alleged to be contained in Bacon’s Ciphers are
translations of Homer and of Virgil, part of which, in resounding blank
verse, Mrs. Gallup publishes in her book. And some of her critics aver
that it bears evidence of having been based upon Pope’s translation
of the _Iliad_, because it contains names and descriptions that Pope
introduced without any warrant from Homer.
It is strongly urged by some of Mrs. Gallup’s critics that if Bacon
wished to tell such a story as is here put in his mouth he would never
have done it in so cumbrous a fashion, but would simply have written it
down and placed it under seal, in trustworthy hands, to be opened and
read by posterity. But if, in spite of such objections, the existence
of the Cipher should be proved, the question would then arise: “Who did
put it there, if Bacon didn’t, and for what end?”
PROS AND CONS OF THE CONTROVERSY
THE BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF SIR FRANCIS BACON.
BACONIANA, LONDON.
ELIZABETH WELLS GALLUP.
EDITOR BACONIANIA:
From reading the January number of the Magazine, it would seem that
I had at least furnished a new topic for discussion, and given a new
impetus to the study of things Baconian, in the discovery that the
Bi-literal Cipher of Francis Bacon was incorporated in the printing
of his works, and that a secret story of the great Author was hidden
in them. This in itself is a distinct gain for the study had seemed
to languish for material upon which to feed until the opening of new
channels of thought and research and comparison of ideas upon the
new discovery. The object of the Society is investigation, First:
of Bacon’s authorship of a much wider range of literature than has
been accredited to him upon the title pages of the books of his time.
Secondly: many have believed that Ciphers would be found that would
present new phases of his life history which has seemed so mysterious,
if only the right “key” could be touched. The limits of novelty in the
discussion of all these things seemed to have been reached, however.
Paralellisms in philosophy, language and thought had been urged until
variety of phrases had been exhausted in comparing them, yet all
arguments, while morally conclusive to the party urging them, were
tinged with inconclusiveness in the lack of physical demonstration. The
Ciphers found furnish the missing links which explain much, if not all.
Naturally the Ciphers and what they tell invite investigation and the
pages of BACONIANIA would seem a not inappropriate forum for their
discussion.
The understandings of different individuals concerning the same subject
are almost as varied as the individuals themselves, hence we must
expect a variety of opinions. Concourse of words has such different
meanings to different people that we are compelled to believe that
the brain is like a plastic matter of varying degrees of hardness,
receiving but the faintest impression, or none, of some things, while
others are deeply imprinted upon the recording tablets of memory. Then,
too, the sources of information are so varied that the results of
studying them are like looking through glasses of differing color and
focus, and the individual receives and describes the impression from
their own particular lense and confidently asserts that to be the only
truth, hence investigation, comparison and discussion are needful in
the clarifying process.
Investigation, however, does not mean rejection of that which is new or
unpleasant or not in accord with our preconceived ideas, else my own
labors upon old books would have stopped years ago, and I should not
now be engaged in explaining what I have found, and the old beliefs
would not have suffered the jar of a “Cipher discovery”.
Fully conscious of the absolute veracity of the work I have done, and
my responsibility in the expression, I _know_ that the Bi-literal
Cipher exists in the printing of Bacon’s works: I _know_ that others
can follow over the same course, if they have the aptitude and patience
for it, and can reach no other correct results. To those who have
availed themselves of the opportunity carefully to study and follow my
work, no argument is needed to convince them of my assertion. Doubts
and objections come from those who have not had that opportunity or
have given the work but slight attention.
There are those who seem to think the deciphered work as published is
a creation of my own,--or that I am self-deceived. They do me too much
honor,--or _too little_. It is an honor to be thought capable of such
a production, through the gathering of historical facts, aided by a
romantic imagination, and the power to express it all in the pure old
English language of Francis Bacon. Did I possess such creative powers
I would have devoted them to some more popular theme and spared eyes
and brain from the nervous exhaustion of examining seven thousand pages
of old English printing for the peculiarities of the Italic letters in
them. I cannot aspire to the honor of such a “creation.”
On the other hand, it is not complimentary to my judgment, or
that of my publishers, that I, or they, should go through the
constant researches of the last seven years in libraries so widely
scattered,--self deceived as to the resulting work, expending so
much of time and strength and substance in developing something that
was non-existent;--or if not that--and the Cipher has no reason for
existence--what shall be said of so stupendous and brain-racking effort
to deceive my readers with so purposeless a production.
It is urged that the Cipher disclosures do not accord with history.
This is a field for the investigators. I can only record what I find
as I find it. “The facts of history” is an elastic term and the
deductions drawn from public records of the earlier ages vary greatly.
The conviction is growing that much of interest was not recorded and
it is certain that sources of information are too diverse and greatly
scattered to be all brought together into an exact statement of facts.
If the Cipher had a purpose, it was to record that which was being
suppressed. It would have been a work of supererogation to put into
Cipher the open records of the day.
Many inquiries have reached me asking “How is the Cipher worked?” and
expressing disappointment that the writer had been unable after some
hours of study, to grasp the system or its application.
It would be difficult, and hardly to be expected that an understanding
of Greek or Sanscrit could be reached with the aid of a few written
lines or with a few hours study. It is equally so with the Cipher.
Deciphering the Bi-literal Cipher as it appears in Bacon’s works
will be impossible to those who are not possessed of an eyesight of
the keenest and perfect accuracy of vision in distinguishing minute
differences in form, lines, angles and curves in the printed letters.
Other things absolutely essential are unlimited time and patience, and
aptitude, love for overcoming puzzling difficulties and, I sometimes
think, _inspiration_. As not every one can be a poet, an artist, an
astronomer or adept in other branches requiring special aptitude, so,
and for the same reasons, not every one will be able to master the
intricacies of the Cipher, for, in many ways it is most intricate and
puzzling, not in the system itself, but in its application, as it
is found in the old books. It must not be made too plain, lest it be
discovered too quickly, nor hid too deep lest it never see the light
of day, is the substance of the thought of the inventor, many times
repeated in the work. The system has been recognized since the first
publication of _De Augmentis_, but the ages since have waited to
learn of its application to Bacon’s works; and yet the idea seems to
be prevalent that “any one” should be able to do the work, once the
bi-literal alphabet is known. This is as great a mistake as it would be
to reject the translations of the character writings and hieroglyphics
of older times which have been deciphered because we could not in a few
hours master them ourselves. Ciphers are used to hide things, not to
make them clear.
BI-LITERAL CYPHER OF FRANCIS BACON.
A REPLY TO CERTAIN CRITICS.
BY ELIZABETH WELLS GALLUP.
PALL MALL MAGAZINE, MAY, 1902.
_To the March number of the_ PALL MALL MAGAZINE _Mrs. Gallup
contributed a preliminary paper on the controversy which has so
stirred the literary world. We now place before our readers a
second article in which Mrs. Gallup deals specifically with a
number of points which have been raised by certain individual
writers during the progress of the controversy. This Mrs.
Gallup has not been able to do before, because, as we have
already stated, the criticisms were not in her possession
when her first contribution left America. In sending us her
second contribution Mrs. Gallup wishes us to point out that the
articles to which she is now replying occupied considerable
space in the magazines publishing them, and the answers, to
be at all full and correspondingly valuable, require much
greater space than was placed at her disposal by the_ PALL MALL
MAGAZINE. _In fairness to Mrs. Gallup we think it right to
precede her paper with this explanation._
ED. P. M. M.
I gladly avail myself of the opportunity of replying to some of
my critics in the PALL MALL MAGAZINE, as discussions in the daily
press sometimes become acrimonious and detrimental to real study
and calm judgment, while a presentation of the subject in the pages
of a fireside companion can be enjoyed in the hours of leisure and
recreation.
In view of the remarkable expressions in the _Times_ and other
papers, and in two or three magazines in England, I should perhaps
regard myself fortunate that there is now no Inquisition to compel a
discoverer to recant, under penalty of the rack; and I can already
sympathise with a contemporary of Bacon who, when forced publicly
to deny what he knew to be truth, was said to have muttered, as he
withdrew, “_E pur si muove!_”
The torrent of questions, objections, suggestions, inferences, and
imaginings that have overwhelmed the press over Bacon’s _Bi-literal
Cypher_, has shown an astonishing interest in the subject, and I may
congratulate myself, at any rate, upon being the innocent cause of what
somebody has called a “tremendous propulsion of thought currents.”
Much of this energy has been expended along lines in no way relating
to me or the validity of my work, but we may suppose there is “no
exercise of brain force without its value,” and in the swirl there may
be others who will say with me, “the world does move.”
I had expected, if not hoped, that with the aids I had set out, some
adept in ciphers--sufficiently curious to enjoy solving Sphinxlike
riddles--would have followed, and so proved my work. I have been
surprised to find how few have been able to grasp the system of its
application, and how much defective vision affects the judgment. I also
regret very seriously the superficiality of most of the investigations.
I am therefore obliged to go into details, when I had expected eager
research by others would have made it a fascinating race to forestall
me in deciphering the old books I was unable to obtain.
TEN OBJECTIONS IN THE “TIMES.”
“A Correspondent,” in the _Times_, fully discusses and sets out
objections, summarising them finally under the following ten heads:
1. “There are discernible distinct differences of form in certain
individual Italic letters used by printers of the period.”
This is an important admission of one important fact. Less careful
investigators have directly, or by inference, denied that any such
discernible differences exist at all. In the _Bi-literal Cypher_, p.
310, Bacon says: “Where, by a slighte alteration of the common Italicke
letters, the alphabets of a bi-literate cypher having the two forms are
readily obtain’d,” etc., which states clearly enough that he had few
changes to make to secure his double alphabet.
It is admitted also that the full explanation of the bi-literal
cipher is given in _De Augmentis Scientiarum_. Gilbert Wats’s
translation says: “Together with this, you must have ready at hand a
_Bi-formed Alphabet_, which may represent all the _Letters_ of the
common _Alphabet_, as well Capitall Letters as the Smaller Characters
in double forme, as may fit every man’s occasion.” He also says:
“_Certainly_ it is an Art which requires great paines and a good witt,
and is consecrate to the Counsels of Princes.”
So we have, in analysing this first objection, made good progress when
we have learned--(1) the admitted differences in the types; (2) from
Bacon himself of the use of bi-formed alphabets; (3) the clear and
full explanation of the cipher itself, which can be applied to these
differences; (4) his statement that it is an art which requires great
pains and a good wit (and good vision as well); (5) that its importance
is so great that it is consecrate to the counsels of princes. This
really leaves but one question: did Bacon print this particular cipher
into his books? I answer from a study of months and years that he did,
and that I have correctly transcribed it.
2. The correspondent says: “These differences were by no means
confined to the period when Bacon lived, or to the books in which Mrs.
Gallup alleges a secret cypher--in fact, they are to be detected in
similar profusion in books published thirty-five years after Bacon’s
death--notably in the third folio of Shakespeare, 1661.”
I replied to this in a former communication to the _Times_, stating
that in some old books of the period similar founts of type in two or
more forms are used; that I have endeavoured to find the cipher in some
of these, but found the forms were used promiscuously, without method,
and the differences could not be classified to produce, when separated
into “groups of five,” words and sentences in the bi-literal cipher.
But this has no direct bearing on the subject. As Bacon’s invention
consisted in making use (by slight alteration) of varieties and forms
of type then, as now, in common use, he would have nothing to do with
the introduction of the forms, their general use, or continuance. He
employed a method by which two forms were arranged in a definite way,
to serve his purpose in his own publications, while the method would be
absolutely beyond discovery without the key. This key he withheld until
1623. We now know that Bacon used this method from 1579 to the end of
his career, and that Rawley employed it until 1635 for cipher purposes.
How much later it was used I have been unable to learn, that being the
latest date of my deciphering.
“CONFINED TO FEW TYPES.”
3. “These differences, in so far as they are well marked, uniform,
and coherent, appear to be confined to very few types--in the case of
Shakespeare’s plays (first, second, and third folios, 1623, 1632, 1661)
to some ten or twelve at most of the capital letters.”
This is incorrect, as I have observed in replying to Objection 1. But
starting with twelve capitals, there is half that alphabet. The others
can be found by closer observation. Many of the small letters are as
well marked in some of the types, not only in the First Folio, but
especially in the _Historie of the Raigne of King Henry the Seventh_
(1622), and in the first edition of _De Augmentis Scientiarum_ (1623).
DIFFERENCES DUE TO VARIOUS CAUSES.
4. He states: “Apart from such well-defined differences, there are
to be observed in the Italic types of the period innumerable and
unclassifiable differences of form, due, it would seem, to many
contributory causes, such as defective manufacture, broken face,
careless locking of formes (involving bad alignment or improper
inclination of individual letters), bad ink, bad paper, and the great
age of the impression.”
It is true there are differences that are not the distinctive
differences governing their use, but it is very rarely indeed that a
letter is found that is not paired with another, which, though like
in some respects, is unlike in certain definite features. It involves
no more difficulty to find how a number of letters similar, yet with
certain distinctive differences, are to be separated into two classes,
than to distinguish in the same way a number of letters in entirely
different forms. Bacon himself speaks of the multi- or bi-formed type.
We have difficulties arising from very natural causes, but there are
none that cannot be overcome with time and patient study.
MR. MALLOCK’S EXAMPLES.