The debate concerning the authenticity of Beinecke MS 350A – AKA the Vinland Map – has raged for over half a century. Is it for real or is it early modern Maybelline?

Vinland Map Ink

Despite the numerous technical analyses that have been carried out on the Vinland Map, almost the only fact everyone agrees on is the physical age of its paper: it has been carbon dated to the first half of the 15th century, which is nicely consistent with its Briquet Tete de Boeuf (15056) watermark.

That’s the support medium – but what about the rest? The major thing pointing towards inauthenticity elsewhere is (courtesy of Walter McCrone) the analytical demonstration that the ink used in the Vinland Map is not a conventional iron gall ink, but appears to contain a particular form of anatase (titanium oxide) that was first chemically synthesized only in the 1920s. And so, McCrone’s base argument from 1974 runs, it doesn’t matter how old the paper itself is, because the ink on top of it simply cannot be genuinely fifteenth century.

Even so, people continue to try to defend the Vinland Map’s authenticity, by suggesting ingenious mechanisms by which the anatase might have been deposited in the 20th Century: Jim Enterline, for example, plausibly proposed in 2002 that anatase might somehow have been added to a genuinely old map as part of an attempt to clean it.

But when McCrone looked again at the map in 1991, he extended his claim somewhat further into the construction details. Specifically, he claimed that the lines that made up the map were – to make them more closely resemble old iron gall ink, but without actually being old iron gall ink – drawn in two distinct passes:
(1) a first yellow ink pass using a slightly wider nib
(2) a second dark ink pass in a narrower nib, immediately on top of (and steered down the middle of) the lines put down in the first pass.
If this is correct, the Vinland Map is not just a mere fake: rather, it is a painstakingly-executed two-pass modern simulacrum of an old manuscript.

The ‘smokingest’ smoking gun in all of this would seem to have been discovered by Kenneth M. Towe: when he examined the Vinland Map at the Beinecke, he noticed that the two lines diverged significantly in the English west coast.

vinland-england

Now, I’ve personally never seen a colour close-up of this specific section to test out Towe’s argument with my own eyes, but I’d really like to. Has anyone got a copy of this?

Whodunnit?

Even so, the twin issues of who it was that constructed such a thing and for what reason both remain resolutely unresolved. Kirsten Seaver’s 2004 book “Maps, Myths, and Men” tried to pin the tail on a peculiarly unsatifying Jesuit cartomanic donkey, Father Josef Fischer. However, her account failed to convince me that Fischer would have wanted to create a fake Vinland Map of the kind we see for any reason, let alone for the reasons that Seaver speculatively proposes.

So even if the Vinland Map does prove to be a fake (and the presence of modern anatase and the apparent two-pass drawing when taken together do make it seem so), we still have no idea by whom it was made, or where, or indeed when (other than post-1920 or so).

Seaver is convinced she has got the right man; but her argument only really presents a possible candidate, and doesn’t go as far as actually explaining much of what we see or what happened. Perhaps she will uncover something more substantial soon, at which point we’ll all have to revise our views: we shall see.

A Surprise Entrant

In 2013, the modern history of the Vinland Map took an unexpected turn when an amateur Scottish historian called John Paul Floyd announced (courtesy of the Daily Mail, The Sunday Times and doubtless elsewhere) that he had uncovered – thanks to Google searches – an entirely new angle on it.

Floyd believes that the document the Vinland Map appears to have been bound with – The Tartar Relation – was put on display in Madrid in 1892 at an exhibition celebrating the 400th anniversary of Columbus’ Atlantic crossing. And at that time there was no map bound with it (because the page count listed at the time would be wrong). He also found a reference to the same manuscript from 1926 when it was examined by Cristóbal Pérez Pastor (also no mention of a map at all).

Manuscripts for the 1892 exhibition were loaned from the collection of the Cathedral Church of Zaragoza, the contents of which were ransacked in the early 1950s and fenced through crooked book dealers such as Enzo Ferrajoli (who was convicted for this).

And Enzo Ferrajoli was the same rare book dealer who ultimately first sold the Vinland Map in 1957. Ouch!

It’s a pretty compelling chain or reasoning, because for once it offers actual evidence of absence 🙂 rather than speculatory absence of evidence. Of course, it doesn’t yet answer the question of who faked the map or why: but perhaps Floyd (who has been hard at work grinding out his book ever since) has found some additional evidence there too. We shall see, hopefully this year.

Nicely, I found a post on soc.history.medieval by David B that foregrounds Floyd’s evidence:-

The 1892-3 Madrid Exhibition Catalogue

“Catalogo General” of the 1892-3 Exposición Historico-Europea.
Room X:
“53. – Vincentius bellvacensis. Speculum naturale, doctrinale, morale, historiale.
El presente volumen contiene, de esta célebre enciclopedia de Vicente de Beauvais, solamente los libros 21 á 24 de la tercera parte del Speculum historiale.
Al fin se ha añadido un tratadito intitulado Historia Tartarorum dedicado por el autor Fr. C. de Bridia, al R.P. Fr. Bogardio, ministro de los franciscanos en Boemia y Polonia.
Manuscrito, á dos columnas, letra del siglo xv, las cubiertas de cada cuaderno en vitela y lo demás en papel, los epigrafes en tinta roja, el lugar de las iniciales en blanco. Consta de 251 hojas.
La Historia Tartarorum, acaba de esta manera: actum ab incarnatione domini MCCXLVII, tertio kalendas augusti.
Folio, encuadernado en tabla forrada de cuero labrado.”

About which David B comments:

Note that the above gives the number of leaves as 251, which would be almost the same as the total number of leaves with writing on in the two now-separated texts at Yale. It’s one leaf too few if you include the Vinland Map in the current count, but one leaf too many if you exclude the Map, suggesting that the now-missing first written leaf of book 21 of the “Speculum” may have been present in 1892.

Cristóbal Pérez Pastor

“Noticias y Documentos relativos a la Historia y Literatura Espanolas recogidos por D. C. Perez Pastor”:

“Speculum historiae (segunda y tercera parte). Historia tartarum.
Manuscrito, letra del siglo xv, a dos columnas, los epigrafes en tinta roja; cada cuaderno tiene la primera y última hojas en pergamino y las deniz en papel.
Al final lleva la fecha: “Actum ab incarnatione Domim M.CC.XL.VII. tertio Kalendas Augusti”; folio, encuadernado en tabla forrada de piel, con adornos de la época.
Del Speculum hist contiene los libros xxj a xxiv, que dan remate a la parte tercera de la obra.
El Codice comienza con el imperio de Teodosio el joven, y acaba en el segundo reinado de la Emperatriz Irene.
Sigue la Historia de los Tartaros, escrita por Fray C. de Bridia, fransiscano, y va dirigida a Fray Bogixdao, ministro de los franciscanos en Bohemia y Polonia, y se termina con la fecha del 30 de Julio de 1247.”

Anyone with a reasonably capacious memory for Voynich trivia will probably recall Tim Mervyn’s name. He has appeared in various Voynich TV documentaries, and has been grinding away on his ‘K:D:P’ (Kelley:Dee:Pucci) theory for many years (this was briefly summarized in Kennedy & Churchill’s book).

He has now resurfaced with six reasonably substantial essays (though not yet fully published yet, I think) giving his version of his three protagonists’ stories, as well as how he believes that these separate strands came together to yield the twisted and tangled shape of the Voynich Manuscript. In short, he thinks that it was Kelley:Dee:Pucci who created it, but that rather than being a hoax (e.g. via Gordon Rugg’s CompSci-inspired Cardan grilles), it’s actually a real cipher (albeit a rather complicated one).

I have to say that one hugely annoying thing about the way he presents his arguments is that he spends a whole lot of time specifically rubbishing Rene Zandbergen, for reasons that are neither accurate nor fair. Mervyn seems to believe (a) that Rene is hugely dogmatic about a 15th century dating (he really isn’t), and (b) that the only evidence Rene could possibly rely on to support such a dogmatic dating is the radiocarbon dating (it isn’t).

In fact, Mervyn’s arguments against a 15th century origin for the Voynich Manuscript are particularly superficial (he comes across as thinking that everything after D’Imperio is essentially nonsense), while his external arguments (e.g. against people proposing such obviously-crazy non-16th-century dating) are of the “well-they-would-say-that-wouldn’t-they” variety. This unfortunately weakens and cheapens what he’s trying to do, whereas I think he’s got quite an interesting story to tell, one which will take me a fair while to properly deal with here. For what it’s worth, I think he should have put more effort into bullet-proofing his own arguments rather than airily dismissing everyone else’s.

Still, I’m really excited about what Mervyn is doing, though for a reason he might not have expected. Without going all TL;DR on you, I have long argued that almost all John Dee literature tends to fall into exactly one of only two very precisely defined camps:

* “John Dee the magus, astrologer, angel summoner and esoteric magician”
* “Dr John Dee, the independent scholar and wannabe Elizabethan courtier”

Yet for me, though, there’s a third side of Dee that has almost no literature at all:

* John Dee, the would-be Court cryptographer

For example, many sections of Dee & Kelley’s angel séance texts boil down, in my opinion, to nothing more complex than accounts of experimental cryptography, a reading which fits both main camps extremely badly. And yet nobody has stepped forward to write about this at all, which I think is a large lacuna in the literature landscape.

So to my eyes, then, even if Mervyn’s six essays fail to give a satisfying account of the Voynich Manuscript (which I have to say from my first read-through looks broadly to be the case, though there is much of specific 16th century interest there all the same), they may well prove to be the first modern examples of the cryptographic Dee literature I’ve been waiting for for such a terribly long time.

…or are there more Dee-as-cryptographer books out there? My old friend and virtual sparring partner Glen Claston was himself very much taken with Dee’s cryptography, but never published anything (to my knowledge): so please let me know via the comments sections here if you know of any papers, articles or even book sections that cover this. Thanks!

I haven’t really put as much time into the Rohonc Codex as I would like: but in my defence, this has been because the available scans are fairly miserable. For example, here’s the scan of the drawing on the page marked ’83’:-

83-old

However, a recent post from the Centre for the Study of Manuscript Cultures (‘CSMC’) at the University of Hamburg offers us a glimpse of what might be possible with better quality Rohonc scans. (This whole story was broken by Klaus Schmeh’s Krypto Kolumne a few days ago, well done Klaus!)

83-new

With this scan, you can clearly make out that this drawing is depicting some kind of curious clockwork device, though – as cipher mysteries connoisseurs would perhaps expect – it’s still as clear as mud what is going on with it.

If only the rest of the Rohonc Codex could be scanned in broadly the same quality, and a proper codicological description of its construction put together! Then we could all really go to town on it, not just Benedek Lang. 🙂

Here’s a lovely 50-minute film from 2005 for you about WWII pigeons (both English and German) called War of the Birds, made by Richard Cane for Atlantic Productions Ltd for Animal Planet. [IMDB page]

Though I knew about this ages ago, the link I had been given was to a compressed video that somehow managed to crash my various web browsers: but this new one works perfectly OK for me, so I’m happy to pass it on now. 🙂

As (almost) always with TV documentaries, it gets a fair few small details wrong (the pigeon message pad shown wasn’t a 418B, etc), but it gets enough big things right that this doesn’t really matter. The film even has Freddy Dyke (author of “Memoirs of a Wartime Teenager”, which I still haven’t been able to get a copy of) as one of its talking heads, complete with a properly resplendent moustache.

Recommended! 🙂

In the beautiful sunlight at Studland Bay’s Knoll Beach this morning, I suggested to my son that we build a sand sculpture together. But of what?

Naturally, I proposed that we make a man-sized Lego minifigure (because that would be cool), while he proposed that we carve ourselves a virtual Somerton Man. (That’s my boy!)

It should be no surprise that we ended up doing both at the same time – i.e. a life-size Somerton Man Lego minifigure sand sculpture – which was of course a lot of fun.

lifesize-lego-minifigure-somerton-man

If you look closely, you can see his tie and a half-smoked cigarette dangling loosely from his yellow brick lips:

lifesize-lego-minifigure-somerton-man-closeup

Is it art? No, but we had fun making it. I somehow doubt anyone on the beach realised what it was depicting, but who cares?

Anyway… later in the day, this whole thing sparked a much bigger idea in my sun-addled head. Why not hold a Virtual Somerton Man beach sculpture contest, so that everyone else has the possibility of showcasing their sand-based interpretations of this enduring South Australian mystery too?

So here it is: the 2015 Virtual Somerton Man Beach Sculpture Contest, which will run until 31st December 2015. Email me your pictures, or InstaTweetBookGram them (or whatever), but leave a comment here with a link to your masterpiece and I’ll collect them all together for a vote at the end of the year. I’ll try to track any #somertonman Tweets too, just in case a contestant is so technologically advanced that other forms of communication are too far below them. 🙂

For a bit of spice, I’m donating a non-virtual real-world prize: the winner (assuming anyone enters) will get not only their very own copy of Gerry Feltus’s excellent book The Unknown Man (on the Somerton Man mystery, if you couldn’t guess), but also a glorious victory to boast about forever!

So what are you waiting for? Get sculpting! 😉

A quick recap: a copy of the WW2 cipher was placed on the leg of two pigeons, one with ring NURP 40 TW 194 and the other with ring NURP 37 DK 76. But we haven’t been able to identify either of these birds, or their owners, or even their clubs.

I recently suggested that NURP 37 DK 76 might have been owned by Mr L Duke of Great Shelford, and I continue to pursue that possibility. But just now, while speculatively browsing the (paywalled) British Newspaper Archive, I found a whole lot of stuff that was new to me…

Lost Pigeons

During WW2, Robert Lever of Ticehurst, Sussex placed a series of small ads in the Kent & Sussex Courier, offering sizeable rewards for lost racing pigeons (these were plainly no ordinary pigeons). And many of these had exactly the kind of NURP … TW pigeon rings we’re looking for:-

* Kent & Sussex Courier – Friday 29 November 1940, page 12
* Kent & Sussex Courier – Friday 06 December 1940, page 12

£1 REWARD, –LOST, RACING PIGEONS.
Ring Numbers NURP 39 NSC 62 (Black), NURP 40 TW 243 (Blue). — ROBERT LEVER, HIGHLANDS, TICEHURST

* Kent & Sussex Courier – Friday 14 February 1941, page 10

LOST–£1 REWARD–RACING PIGEONS.
Black Hen, NURP 39 NSC 62. Blue Cock, NURP 40 TW 243. Blue Chequer Pied Hen, NURP 40 HBC 182. Red Chequer Cock, NURP 40 W 4323.–ROBERT LEVER, HIGHLANDS, TICEHURST.

* Kent & Sussex Courier – Friday 13 June 1941, page 8
* Kent & Sussex Courier – Friday 20 June 1941, page 8

LOST, RACING PIGEONS ; 10s REWARD.–
Red Chequer Hen, NURP 39 JWS 31; Dark Blue Chequer, NURP 41 TW 5; Blue NURP 41 TW 14; Blue Chequer, NURP 41 TW 22.–Robert Lever, Highlands, Ticehurst, Sussex.

* Kent & Sussex Courier – Friday 22 May 1942, page 8

£1 REWARD.–Racing Pigeons, NURP 39 JWS, 119 (Blue); NURP 39, NSC 17 (Black Pied); NURP 39, NSC 8 (Black); NURP 41, TW 25 (Light Blue Chequer). –Lever, Highlands, Ticehurst.

Lever’s Pigeons

There are lots more local newspaper references to Robert Lever’s pigeons in wartime races:

* Kent & Sussex Courier – Friday 05 September 1941, page 5

TUNBRIDGE WELLS NEWS

PIGEON RACING.–The final young bird race was flown on Saturday from Tavistock (197 miles) under good weather conditions. Result: Sargent (Lewes) 1160, 1158; Lever (Ticehurst) 1159, 1157, 1154, 1152; Bristow (Lewes), 1106; Mrs Oswald Smith, 1078, 1077; Hills, 882. Mr Hills wins the “Frank Simms” young bird average cup : runner-up, Mrs Oswald-Smith.

* Kent & Sussex Courier – Friday 28 August 1942, page 5

TUNBRIDGE WELLS NEWS

PIGEON RACING CLUB.–The young birds racing from Dorchester (122 miles) for the first time attained a speed of 48 miles per hour. Liberated at 11.35 a.m., members were clocking-in arrivals from 2 p.m. Result : Henshall, 1443 ; Simms 1434; Carter, 1423; Ransom and Coleman, 1417; Mrs Oswald-Smith, 1407; Booth, 1385; R. Lever, 1326 ; Westow, 1295 ; Hills, 1293.

* Kent & Sussex Courier – Friday 28 May 1943, page 5

TUNBRIDGE WELLS NEWS

PIGEON RACING.–On Saturday, the race birds experienced a hard fly from Selby. Mr R. Lever, Ticehurst, timed in the winning bird, which flew the distance of 199 miles in 5 hours 47 minutes. […]

* Kent & Sussex Courier – Friday 26 May 1944, page 5

TUNBRIDGE WELLS NEWS

PIGEON RACING.–On Saturday, members raced their birds from Selby (191 miles). Liberation took place at 12.30 p.m., and birds were being clocked-in from 4.30pm, the leading ones putting up a speed of 45 miles per hour. Result: Lever, 1365, 1354.2 ; […]

…and again for Friday 9th June 1944, when Mr Lever’s pigeons were racing from Morpeth (290 miles).

Tunbridge Wells Racing Pigeon Club at War

Unsurprisingly from the above, Mr Lever’s local club was Tunbridge Wells Racing Pigeon Club: which was, far from coincidentally, pretty much my first guess as to the likely location.

Nicely, though, the Kent & Sussex Courier also included a number of short pieces from the same club that help us see the larger picture about pigeons in wartime. It may be a bit TL;DR for some, sure, but I rather like it all, and I get to choose what gets included. 🙂

* Kent & Sussex Courier – Friday 28 February 1941, page 6

TUNBRIDGE WELLS RACING PIGEON CLUB

At the invitation of the President (Mr W. C. Raiswell) and Mrs. Raiswell, members partook of tea, followed by discourse on club matters which are affected by war conditions, at their residence, Halls Hole, Forest-road, on Saturday. Amongst others who attended were Dr. and Mrs. Oswald Smith. Mr. H. Wallace Stubbs (Crowborough), Mr. T. Ashdown and Mr. A. Ransom (Chairman). Letters of apology for absence were read from Major J. G. Hiley, Messrs. H. Ashby and J. F. Mitchell. Corpl. W. J. Muddle, late loft manager to Mr. Raiswell, who is serving with the Royal Air Force, wrote referring to the valuable work the racing pigeons were doing in the R.A.F.

The PRESIDENT expressed regret at the unavoidable absence of Major Hiley, who is in command of a section of the Carrier Pigeon Service, and stressed the fact of how little was known of this essential war effort members were doing for the Services. The cost of breeding and training the right type of bird for strenuous flying was high. Unfortunately, many were shot or injured when on Service flights. Mr Raiswell thought the difficulty of overcoming the shortage pigeon food was not insurmountable, and he hoped that members would not let that obstacle deter them or reduce their stock, as the Army required every serviceable pigeon. He hoped the Club would not disband for the duration of war.

Mrs. Oswald Smith presented the following cups to the winners: Raiswell Cup for the best old bird average, F. Simms, average velocity 1,028 yards per minute over 10 races; “Robert Lever” Cup for bird winning the longest distance race (Fraserburgh, 462 miles), F. Simms; “Frank Simms” Cup for best young bird average, F. Carter, with an average of 1,136 yards per minute over four races.

The SECRETARY (C. R. Suffolk) gave brief report on the finances and equipment of the Club, which were in sound condition. Commenting on the possibilities of racing this season, he said much depended upon the conditions of rail transport. Apart from that he saw no reason why races should not be flown. He expressed his thanks to the Chairman and Mr. F. Simms for their valuable assistance setting and checking clocks and preparing racing panniers for despatch of birds; also to Mr. H. Colebrook for providing a trunk for storage of clocks and other equipment.

The CHAIRMAN, replying, said it was a pleasure to both himself and Mr. Simms to help the Club in every possible way. A cordial vote of thanks was passed to Mr. and Mrs. W. C. Raiswell for entertaining the members; also to Mrs. Oswald Smith for presenting the cups.

* Kent & Sussex Courier – Friday 06 November 1942, page 6

RACING PIGEON CLUB

Presentation to Mr. C. R. Suffolk

Describing what was perhaps the finest five minutes of his life, Councillor W. C. Raiswell recalled the indescribable thrill of pigeon racing and the intense exitement of waiting for and seeing the birds return to their loft after being on the wing for many hours.

The occasion was meeting on the 21st anniversary of the Tunbridge Wells Racing Pigeon Club, held at “Little Bredbury,” Tunbridge Wells, by kind invitation of Dr. and Mrs. H. Oswald-Smith, when prizes for the 1942 season were distributed and presentation was made to the secretary, Mr. C. R. Suffolk.

After report by Mr. SUFFOLK on the year’s programme, which had been most satisfactory despite wartime limitations, Mr. RAISWELL briefly reviewed the past 21 years. He recalled the old days when they had only two clocks for recording the return of the birds and a system wiring in was used. One member, he said, who had had a loft over a shop in Calverley-road, used to throw out of his window message to a boy waiting below, who would then wire in the time of the pigeon’s arrival. Later, when had installed a clock on the lawn at his house, he recollected members rushing madly down the hill on bicycles eager to “clock in.”

The President went on to speak of the vital work of what he considered to be the most important club in Tunbridge Wells. It was now stronger than it had ever been, and every member was really doing a great public service. Not only could pigeons be relied upon as valuable inland messengers, but they could be and were being used in co-operation with the R.A.F. and Royal Navy. Already they had been instrumental saving the life of Service personnel, though the full story of their achievements in that direction could not be told until after the war. Had the Club not been formed it would not have been possible to help in the national effort, and therefore grateful thanks were due to Mr. Suffolk, who had been Secretary from the beginning. “I have been requested by the members the Club,” concluded Mr. Raiswell, addressing the Secretary, “to ask you to accept something in recognition of the service you have given for so many years; a token of gratitude and appreciation what you have done.” He handed a cheque to Mr. Suffolk.

In reply. Mr. SUFFOLK expressed his thanks. Remarking that bis association with pigeons had commenced many years ago, when he had bought pair of birds for his small daughter. Mr. Suffolk told how suddenly he bad found hlmsAf Secretary of the Club, and later Federation Secretary when the Club had Joined the South Coast Federation He was able to bring to mind many interesting and amusing incidents in this all-absorbing sport, and how untiring enthusiasm had been rewarded by one of the greatest thrills, the thrill of seeing bird drop on to the loft after, a 500-mlle race. Unable now, for health reasons, to take part in actual racing, Mr. Suffolk said bow much he as Secretary enjoyed working out the times and velocities of the birds, details which required minute calculations. Mr. Suffolk hoped the Club would be enlarged after the war. and was particularly glad to note the ardent enthusiasm displayed by the Club’s youngest member, 13½-year-old Ernest Colebrooke. Finally, his special thanks went to Mr. Raiswell, Mr. Ransom and Mr. Simms for their constant support and co-operation.

Commenting upon a particularly successful season, Mr. RANSOM remarked that members were definitely improving, since all those who had raced had won a prize. One other presentation was to have taken place, that of a water-colour painting of his favourite pigeon to Mr. F. Simms in recognition of his untiring work on behalf of the Club, but unfortunately that gentleman was unable to be present. This remarkable piece of work had been painted by Mr. Suffolk, whose artistic invitation cards had also been greatly admired by all members.

For their charming hospitality a hearty vote of thanks was passed to Dr. and Mrs. Oswald-Smith, who at the close of the meeting miraculously produced a most Inviting tea.

Prizes were distributed by Mrs. Raiswell follows: Mrs. A. Oswald- Smith, 3 firsts, 6 seconds, 1 third and special; R. Lever, 3 firsts, 3 seconds, thirds and 2 specials; F. Simms, 2 firsts, 2 seconds, 7 thirds and 2 specials; E. G. Hills, 2 firsts, 2 seconds, 2 thirds; W. Henshall, firsts, 2 seconds; A. J. Westow, 1 first; Ransom and Coleman, 1 second, 1 third; G. Amsden, 1 first; F. Carter, 1 second, 2 thirds; S. E. Booth, 1 third. Ralswell old bird average cup—Mrs. A. Oswald- Smlth with average velocity of 1,082 yards per minute over nine races. Frank Simms young bird average cup—W. Henshall. velocity 1,036 (seven races). “Robert Lever” cup for longest distance old bird race —H. Colebrooke and Son, velocity 993. Number of birds sent to race points, 613. Amount paid out in prize-money and specials: £24 4s.

* Kent & Sussex Courier – Friday 28 February May 1945, page 7

PIGEONS DID GOOD WORK

A thoughtful reminder of the Important part that pigeons have played in the war, particularly with the R.A.F., was that given by Messrs. W. C. Raiswell in one of their windows in Mount Pleasant. Alderman Raiswell is the President the Tunbridge Wells Racing Pigeon Club, exhibited on Tuesday and Wednesday 10 birds which have been on active service carrying important messages. One was used by the R.A.F. when a V1 site was located. A notice read “Our tribute to the pigeons and the members of the Tunbridge Wells Pigeon Club.” Also on view were some exceptionally fine photos of famous birds. The pigeons were loaned by Mrs. A. Oswald Smith, Mr. F. Simms, Mr. A. Ransome and Mr. W. Henshall.

Six months ago, I was interviewed for a “Raiders of the Last Past” (“Myth Hunters” in the US) episode focusing on the Beale Papers. Unfortunately, I managed to miss the first US airing three weeks ago of Series 3 Episode 13 “The Mystery of Thomas Beale’s Treasure”, *sigh*, and so completely failed to flag it to all you nice Cipher Mysteries readers, sorry. 🙁

Raiders-of-the-Lost-Past---The-Mystery-of-Thomas-Beales-Treasure

However, the UK version is going to be broadcast at 9pm this Good Friday (3rd April 2015) on Yesterday (Freeview channel #19), and I heartily recommend it as a nice slice of cipher mystery TV entertainment. Of course, feel free to fast-forward past my own talking head, because if you’re reading this you probably already know what I’m going to say. 🙂

Anyway, rather than try to summarize the whole sorry saga of the Beale Papers, the film-makers have chosen to focus on George and Clayton Hart’s sustained attempts to understand and crack them. Which I think, having seen the final edit, was a pretty smart move on their part: I mean, who really wants to see a long parade of ugly battling theories?

My own conclusion on the Beale Ciphers shifted while I was getting my thoughts ready for camera, as I described here before. In short, I now think that the ciphers are very probably real, but that nearly all of the pamphlet is fake. I also think that the ciphers will prove to be crackable, with little more than a small step sideways from what we already know.

We shall see! But in the meantime, enjoy the episode! 🙂

Over the last few days, I’ve been looking again at the cryptogram widely claimed to have been composed by the pirate Olivier “La Buse” Levasseur that I first properly described here back in 2013: and really, I have to say that I don’t believe a word of the supposed hidden-pirate-treasure back-story.

I’ll explain…

A Pigpen Cipher

The mysterious text is, without any real doubt, a cryptogram formed using the exact pigpen cipher layout suggested by Charles de la Roncière in 1934. But there is also, I think, strong evidence that the plaintext was already enigmatic and/or hard to read even before it was ever enciphered.

For example, one very early section of the cryptogram is in almost perfect French:

* Lines 3-4: prenez une cullière de miel

Here, “cullière” looks overwhelmingly as though it ought to instead be “cuillère” (spoon), i.e. “take a spoonful of honey”. What this suggests to me is that the person originally encrypting this text found it hard to tell the difference between ‘i’ and ‘l’ in the original (plaintext) handwriting he/she was working from. What’s more, this sounds – however disappointingly prosaic it may be to some people – a lot like a recipe of some sort. And furthermore, it is tempting to surmise from this that the encipherer was unable to read French, and was just reading and processing the letters exactly as they seemed to him/her.

All of which is rather odd: but perhaps the encipherer had inherited or acquired the plaintext and believed that it contained directions to a French pirate’s treasure (albeit one written in a language he/she couldn’t read), and so thought it more prudent to encipher it than leave it lying around en clair. This is just my speculation, of course: but all the same, there’s a whole heap of details here that doesn’t properly make sense just as it is, so there has to be some explanation for the confusing stuff that we can see.

There is evidence too that the cryptogram that we have was also copied from an earlier version of the same cryptogram, specifically because of the variability of the pigpen dots. For example:

* Line 8: povr en pecger une femme [dhrengt vous n ave]

Here, if you swap pigpen dots for the first ‘v’, ‘n’, and ‘g’ you get –

* Line 8: pour empecher une femme [dhrengt vous n ave] — i.e. “to prevent a woman…”

Even with what snatches of mangled French we can (mostly) read, it seems highly unlikely to me that this will turn out to contain anything so obnoxiously capitalist as clues to hidden treasure.

A French Love Spell?

In fact, to my eyes the most convincing scenario so far is that what we are looking at here is a French love spell involving honey.

Because spells were almost always copied rather than devised, I therefore think the most practical way to untangle this whole cipher mystery would therefore be to look at as many (preferably pre-1800) French spells as possible, and see if we can discern unusual patterns there that are reflected in the text here. And any mention of honey, too. 🙂

So I took a quick look on the web, and quickly found The Passion Spells of France (2nd Edition) (though note that your $6.99 only buys you 24 pages). This includes a French spell involving placing honey in the middle of a pentacle (the “Midnight Secrets” ritual, page 15), but sadly the spells only appear in English translation and there are no notes as to the original French sources for any of them. 🙁

Note that the book also includes a “Dove Love” ritual (p.8) involving the feather of a dove: which might possibly begin to explain the otherwise generally mystifying inclusion of the “une paire de pijon[s]” [t -> s] on the first line of the cryptogram. (Incidentally, pigeons less than a month old are known as ‘squabs’ and have historically been considered a great delicacy.)

I also found a book often mentioned called “La Poule Noir” (The Black Pullet) by “A.J.S.D.R.L.G.F.” (all bar one of whose initials lie on the middle row of a QWERTY keyboard, for all you trivia fans). This seems to be included in a 1900 book by Legran Alexandre called “Les Vrai Secrets de la Magie Noire” (downloadable here), but please say if anyone finds a proper download (note that there are a whole of sign-up-for-this-service-and-get-this-ebook-free scam download pages that contain it).

A few of the recipes / rituals listed there do include honey, such as one for making newborn babies intelligent, and also one involving the left leg of a tortoiseshell cat. The love ritual involves taking a lock of someone’s hair, burning it, and spreading the ashes on their bedframe mixed in with honey. (If it brings people together, who am I to raise an eyebrow? It’s no worse than online dating, 17th century style.)

I don’t know. There must be a huge literature on French love spells somewhere out there (dissertations and books), but I’m far from tuned into that whole channel just yet. If anyone finds a better starting point into it, please say! Perhaps we’ll then start to make some genuine progress with this, rather than wasting time and effort wishing for buried treasure. 😐

It’s no secret that there is little of substance about “La Buse” (the pirate captain Olivier Levasseur) on the web. Errrm… or anywhere else, to be brutally honest.

One of the few good places is photographer Yannick Benaben’s website, where he has posted up a set of pages called Sur les Traces du Trésor de La Buse Entre Histoire et Légendes Insulaires. This is a mixed bag of “La Buse”-related threads, some of them genuinely historical (which is good), but also a lot of fairly empty cryptogram-based speculation too (which is… not quite so good).

Regardless, I’m happy to recommend his set of “Sur les Traces…” pages as a genuinely useful resource covering the Indian Ocean phase of La Buse’s piratical life (as long you don’t inhale the cipher speculations part of it too deeply).

“Les Diamants de Goa”

However – and this is where it gets confusing – Yannick has also published an online story called Les Diamants de Goa. This has a (fictional) underwater archaeologist called “Francesca Verrazone” working at a (fictional) French underwater archaeological institute in Marseille, albeit one that sounds a great deal like (the very real) Marseille underwater archaeological institute DRASSM, which is indeed one of the first (real) places you’d go if you were looking for an underwater site in French (or formerly-French) territorial waters.

Yannick’s story has his (fictional) Verrazone arrange a (fictional) conference to air her (fictional) theory about the Nossa Senhora do Cabo, the (real) treasure-filled ship that La Buse captured. He then has a whole load of (fictional) marine archaeologists go and look for it: and so it all proceeds.

But though he seems to have enjoyed this writing (I suspect he had the film rights at least half in mind), the piece has ended up unfinished, stranded precariously on the water’s edge of his website. And people (particularly those who rely heavily on Google Translate, I expect) find links to his story high up in their La Buse search results and conclude it must be just as true as the “Sur Les Traces…” pages, when it’s in fact no more than a frippery.

As a result, you have to be very careful as to which “tree” of pages you’re looking at (i.e. the “Sur Les Traces…” set or the “Les Diamants de Goa” set), because while the former is largely factual (though laced with cipher speculation), the latter is simply made up – a bit of cipher-themed fun.

This difficulty becomes most apparent when Benaben’s (fictional) narrative deals with the captured treasure ship…

The ‘Nossa Senhora do Cabo e São Pedro de Alcântara’

There are plenty of things we can say for certain about this (very real) ship. The Nossa Senhora do Cabo e São Pedro de Alcântara (or ‘Nossa Senhora do Cabo’ for short):
* was built in Amsterdam in 1710 and called the ‘Zeelandia’ or ‘Gelderland’;
* was a two-deck 2nd rate ship of the line with 72 guns;
* was bought by Portugal in 1717 and renamed ‘Nossa Senhora do Cabo e São Pedro de Alcântara’;
* entered service in August 1717;
* having survived a terrible storm, was captured in port by Olivier Levasseur (“La Buse”) in 1721;
* subsequently disappeared without a trace (presumed sunk).

(Note that because people writing about La Buse tend to be French, the ship’s Portuguese name tends to get Frenchified into “La Vierge du Cap”.)

In Yannick’s story, however, he has his (fictional) marine archaeologist refer to the (real) “Grande Panorama de Lisboa” (a huge set of tiles depicting Lisbon around 1700):

grande-panorama-de-lisboa_sec-xviii

He has Verrazone (fictionally) assert that a (real) ship (genuinely) drawn near the front of the tiles is the Nossa Senhora do Cabo:

detail_azulejo

As you have probably already worked out from the above, this cannot actually be the Nossa Senhora do Cabo: the tiles were drawn before 1703 (because that was when the artist died), while that ship was not built until 1710, and did not arrive in Lisbon until 1717. Also, while the ship depicted does have two decks, it only seems to have ~44 cannon (rather than 72): the real Nossa Senhora do Cabo was a substantially bigger beast.

(Perhaps someone else will be able to find out what this ship depicted actually was, because there wasn’t anything on the 3decks website that seemed to match: doubtless a plucky Portuguese historian has already trawled through many more fleet descriptions to do precisely this.)

The First Cryptogram

My current understanding is that the first “La Buse” / “Le Butin” cryptogram – the one that Charles de la Roncière wrote about in his 1934 book “Le Flibustier Mysterieux” (and how I’ve tried to get a copy of that book, but without success) – has not been sighted since 1934.

(And for what it’s worth, I still fail to see how this has anything to do with La Buse.)

However, following an exchange of comments on Klaus Schmeh’s recent page on La Buse, I received what seemed to be a low resolution version of a photo of the real first cryptogram (“crypto_musee_2004”). Looking at the EXIF data attached, it was (c) Yannick Benaben and dated 2004:07:18 13:10:30.

cryptogramme_musee

When I then trawled through the Wayback Machine, the only place that this appeared on Yannick’s site was at the bottom of the ‘Préambule’ section of his (fictional) “Les Diamants de Goa” web pages. It therefore seems – unless someone can prove otherwise – highly likely to me that Yannick mocked this up for the purposes of his “Les Diamants de Goa” story sometime before 1st Sep 2009.

The Second Cryptogram

Going forward a little in (Wayback Machine) time to 16th October 2011, we find that Yannick has replaced the (presumed mocked-up) image of the first cryptogram with an image of the second “La Buse” cryptogram, the one which Emmanuel Mezino wrote an entire book about (but which I don’t believe is genuine).

As far as I know, this would have been the first public sighting of this second cryptogram.

cryptogramme_la_buse

Now here’s the curious thing. If we look closely at the ship on the second cryptogram identified as “La Perle” (of which Manu very kindly sent me a close-up copy), we see something rather odd:

1756973360

What is arguably far too coincidental is that the back of “La Perle” is almost exactly the same as the back of the ship drawn on the Grande Panorama:

ship-comparison

My Conclusion

I didn’t believe that the second cryptogram was real before, and now I really don’t believe it all. To be precise, it seems extremely likely to me not only that Yannick Benaben mocked up the image of the first cryptogram, but also that he was the person who created the whole second cryptogram. He had the means, opportunity, and – crucially – the motive to do it.

…unless anyone knows better?

Link of the month has to be this rather extraordinary handmade “Enigma wristwatch” from New Zealand.

enigma-wristwatch-cropped

To be precise, it’s a home-made wrist-mounted three-rotor Enigma simulator with a three-button user interface. But the fun of the thing lies not so much in any celebration of historical code-breaking as in the extraordinary (if occasionally obsessive) contortions the guy went through to make it. It’s a “Joy Of Techs” thing, and unless you’ve ever fettled a pair of moving parts to get them to fit together 😉 it probably won’t float your boat.

What I find particularly poignant is that this has emerged into the light at about the same time as the Apple Watch: and so within a matter of days, somebody will doubtless have built an interactive Enigma watch skin you can buy in the App Store for $0.99 or so.

apple-watch-enigma-skin

Incidentally, the same person who made the Enigma wristwatch also made his own John Steed puppet, deftly crossing original Avengers retro (“Would the winner come to the unsaddling enclosure?”) with the Thunderbirds Supermarionation of Gerry Anderson, arguably the finest thing from Slough not made of chocolate and caramel.

john-steed-puppet-small

Again, the guy – following the plot of the Avengers episode “How To Succeed At Murder” – decided to build his own wristwatch controller to control the puppet. Which is really nice.

remote-control-watch

Here’s what the original Avengers wristwatch controller looked like, back in 1966:-

avengers-remote-control-watch

All of which brings me back sweetly to the future of smartwatches, as foreseen in a Slough warehouse 50 years ago (though note that Thunderbirds was set in 2065 rather than 2015):

thunderbirds-watch

How far we’ve come, and yet in many ways not so far at all! 😉