Poe’s cryptography challenges — Alexander’s Weekly Messenger, 1839–1840 — reading text

hieroglyphics imaginable (we having no type in our office which would come within a mile of them) and requests us to give him the translation, according to a promise made some weeks ago — a promise, by the way, which our friend does not seem to think likely we will keep, for the good reason that we cannot. We leave him, however, to judge for himself. The translation of what he has sent us, is as follows: “We are all anxiously looking for the arrival of the enlarged Messenger in the village of Cheviot, Ohio, which, if it equals the editor's description, and consequently our high anticipations, we shall be much gratified to peruse, as we are already much pleased with the present volume.” The writer says in a note, “Just let us into the secret, as we are fond of the marvellous.” Well, what will he give us for the secret? — it is a wonderful one and worth paying for. Let him send us on a list of forty subscribers, with the money, and we will give him a full explanation of our whole method of proceeding. STILL ANOTHER. Just as we were going to press we received the following from some one in the city: Observing that you are good at deciphering puzzles, I send you the following, similar to one published in your last. I assure you that is isbona fide, a sensible affair. I shall feel much pleased if will publish it in your next, with a solution. For Alexander's Weekly Messenger. 6!  6793,*47 895,41||4!.  85675 !3  ¶395  ,†6::  †3:||  †59  ,061 95*29!4!.  956,3!  [56¶  6  .:6|| ||5!4!,  961 5!4,†*5!4!.  (955||3¶ !559  †59  [6!!59  06‡5 ?2,:475  6!||  °92*† ,†6::  ¶55*  6!  569:1  .96‡5 2:||50  *†l  4!(:25!75  ,†6:: !6*43!,  [30 ||4,739||  6!||  7†63.  ¶69§  *†l  5!‡432,  [930 4¶659432,  ¶3!,*59 !6*295,  ||56||:45,*  (35 732:||  55!  859(57*43!  (:1  *†1  *†956*!4!.  [:30 5*59!6:  ,7329.5  3(  †6884!5,,  [5:30 A. B. T. We reply that it will afford us the greatest pleasure to do so, at once. The translation is as follows: — AN ACROSTIC. P residing Peace no more shall hold her sway, R eturning Reason beam a gladening ray, E nlightening Freedom ne’er her banner wave, J ustice and Truth shall meet an early grave; U nder thy influence shall nations bow; D iscord and Chaos mark thy envious brow. I mperious monster, Nature's deadliest foe, C ould e’en Perfection fly thy threat’ing blow, E ternal scourge of Happiness below? A. B. T. Edgar Allan Poe, “Yet Another Poser,” Alexander's Weekly Messenger , January 29, 1840, p. 2, col. 4 YET ANOTHER POSER. Our friend A. B. T., whose hieroglyphical puzzle we solved last week, has just sent us another. His note is as follows — ¶ Þ ! ☜ || ⊥ ☞ Þ .   ’ ? ☜ ¡ § ||   ¶   Þ ( § ¶ ⊥ ,   ] §   ☜ ¡ § ! ¶ ⊥ §   ☞ ⊥ , ☜ (   ⊥ ( § ‡ ¶ ? || §   † § Þ § ☞ ⊥ ‡ — ?   ) ☜ — ; ¡ § ! —   ¿ ☜ ⊥ ☞ ¿ [   Þ ¶ ¿   Þ ! § ¶ ⊥ §   ☞ ⊥ , § ¡ § ! —   ⊥ ! ☞ ‡ ? §   ] ☞ ? ?   † § || ⊥ ! ☜ A. B. T. Mr. Alexander — I send you one more, and if you decypher it in your next, I must call you invincible. These characters to be sure have an ugly look about them — but we assure A. B. T. that the ugliness of the letters has nothing to with the difficulty of solution. The translation is thus — ACROSTIC. Love's a cheat, we overrate it, Oh the false, deceitful joy; Very nothing can create it — Every trifle will destroy. Edgar Allan Poe, “Still Another,” Alexander's Weekly Messenger , February 5, 1840, p. 2, col. 3 STILL ANOTHER. “A Subscriber” in this city, sends us the ugliest hyeroglyphical puzzle we have yet received, and hopes that, if we cannot decypher it, we will have the candor to say so. We shall have the candor to say no such thing, for the translation is below. He says, moreover, that, should we manage to make out this, he has one in store which he defies us to make out. — Send it on we reply. A plague on those musty old lubbers Who tell us to fast and to think, And with patience fall in with life's rubbers, With nothing but water to drink; A can of good stuff, had they twigg'd it, ’T’would have set them with pleasure agog, And, spite of the rules Of the schools, The old fools Would all of ’em swigg'd it, And swore there was nothing like grog. Edgar Allan Poe, “Our Late Puzzles,” Alexander's Weekly Messenger , February 12, 1840, p. 2, col. 5 Our late Puzzles. Some five or six weeks ago, in an article headed “Enigmatical Conundrumical,” we advanced the opinion that, with a proper method, any really good enigma, conundrum, charade, &c. &c. might be solved, and as apropos to this idea, we mentioned that it would be an easy matter to read any species of writing in which characters or marks, at random, were made use of in place of alphabetical characters — for example, instead of a, let a * always be used; in place of b , a † &c. &c. We offered, at the same time, by way of evidencing the sincerity of our belief upon the subject, to decypher any English letter sent to us thus written. We certainly had no idea of the positive row which this challenge would create among all the Enigmatists and Charadists in the land. For the first week or so all went well. One or two very droll-looking hieroglyphical mysteries were sent us, and we gave their translation forthwith. In the meantime we were assailed in some quarters with the charge of gaggery, or more delicately speaking, of humbug. We were told to our teeth that the thing was impossible that we wrote our own puzzles and then solved them. Still we kept on the even tenor of our way, and translated every thing that was offered for translation. But the row increased as the wonder grew, and we find ourselves in a pretty predicament indeed. Do people really think that we have nothing in the world to do but to read hieroglyphics? or that we are going to stop our ordinary business and set up for conjurers? Will any body tell us how to get out of this dilemma? If we don’t solve all the puzzles forwarded, their concocters will think it is because we cannot — when we can. If we do solve them we shall soon have to enlarge our sheet to ten times the size of the Brother Jonathan. Edgar Allan Poe, “Our Puzzles — Again,” Alexander's Weekly Messenger , February 19, 1840, p. 2, cols. 2-3 Our Puzzles — Again! An article on the subject of our late puzzles, in which we make a full reply to all correspondents, is crowded out this week, on account of its length, but will appear in our next. The letter of Philom, of Limerick, is just received, and, as we are about going to press, we can only make an extract from it. He says: Come, be a philanthropist, and dispel the mystery that shrouds your magic wand, and don’t “stonish the natives” any longer You suggested in a late number that the “method” which enters into “enigma guessing,” would afford a subject for a “most capital magazine article.” Agreed. And furthermore, we think you are just the man to write it, and the Messenger just the periodical to spread it all over the world. Our folks think the number that should contain such an article would be sought with even more avidity than your “double sheet, with splendid engravings;” and that is not talking small, we assure you. Forty subscribers, with the needful to match, you say, will buy the whole set of rules by which you are enabled to read pot-hooks, pitch-forks, and paradoxes. Now, we’ll tell you what we will do--if you will reel off the yarn in good shape, we will “pledge ourselves” to send you one quarter of it in a few months, and we’ll do all we can towards sending the whole. And won’t your Ohio correspondent do the same?-- Noticing the good humor and urbanity with which you have treated all your correspondents who have appeared before you in the ugliest characters possible, and hoping that you are still in “laughing mood,” and will look upon us with the same scrutinizing indulgence, we have ventured to salute you in as comical a set of trappings as we could procure. We cannot, however, repress an ominous presentiment of never seeing this more. We greatly fear you will get suspended on this, and we be none the wiser. We shall see. Don’t let its great length exclude it. If we are any judge of the genius of putting words together, this has some merit over and above its fantastic dress. Yours, truly, PHILOM. Philom seems bent upon puzzling us, and for this purpose has employed no less than seven distinct alphabets in the concoction of his cypher; which, we confess, is the most outrageous looking piece of composition we ever beheld. Seven alphabets!--and not a single letter in all like anything human or divine! One alphabet was what we stipulated for--not seven. But then, Philom says he will send us forty subscribers. We will, therefore, strain a point in his favor. His puzzle is nothing more than the well-known acrostic called “The Siege of Belgrade,” beginning thus: An Austrian army, awfully arrayed, Boldly, by battery, besieged Belgrade; Cossack commanders cannonading come, Dealing destruction's desolating doom. Every endeavor engineers essay, For fame, for fortune, fighting furious fray; Generals ‘gainst generals grapple gracious God! How honors Heaven heroic hardihood! &c. &c. &c. In our next, we will oblige Philom with our method of solution. Edgar Allan Poe, “Our Puzzles Once More,” Alexander's Weekly Messenger , February 26, 1840, p. 4, col. 3-5 and p. 2, col 4 OUR PUZZLES ONCE MORE. A press of business, last week, prevented us from attending to the favors of our enigmatical friends; and we then dismissed the whole subject in brief. The unexpected interest, however, which is still manifested in all directions about the matter, induces us to speak of it again, with a view of convincing the sceptical that there is really no “humbug” in the case. And first we reply to “Adolescentulus,” who writes from Burkeville, Prince Edward County, Va. The translation of his cyhper runs thus: I am a word of nine letters. My first, fifth, and fourth, is the chief support of the human frame. My first, seventh, and fifth, has often been the cause of bloodshed. My first, seventh, sixth, and fifth, is what we all wish to do in prosperity. My first, ninth, seventh, third, and fourth, denote what we all have been doing whilst on the bed of sickness. My first, second, sixth, and fifth, is that which is often bestowed on those who are unworthy of it. My eighth, second, third, and fifth, is a term applied to the sound of a musical instrument. My first, fifth, third, seventh, eighth, and ninth, is what the distressed often apply for in vain. My whole is what the wealthiest wish to obtain. The answer is Longevity. As “Adolescentulus” is no doubt really what his signature implies, we will take the liberty of saying to him that his cypher is very inartificially constructed, and therefore very easily unriddled. He has put the word “Enigma” at the head, and we at once knew it to be such, when we noticed the frequent recurrence of the word which stands for “My.” “Adolescentulus,” whom by certain indications we know to be a youth of some talent, would have been himself able to solve any such cypher, had we sent it to him. If he will consider well what we shall say, in a subsequent part of this article, he will soon find himself in condition to solve any puzzle of the kind now in question. J. H., of Philadelphia, who sent us “a poser” two weeks since, with the assurance that if we managed to read that (which we did) he would send us one hereafter which he would defy us to make out, has now forwarded us the following: 8.418.891¶ 7 990¶21 70 62 8768 3: 6.2 ¶29¶ 27¶56 5612265 3: 831525 2346¶ 2170 63 ¶2898? 9 912 75 6.2 317¶2 3: 17825? — 7675:62¶ 9.212 3323 90¶ 871832569082? — 966 39552¶ 9998! This is by far the most difficult cypher which we have received. Some of the words are crowded together, and the writer has taken other liberties which do not come within the conditions originally laid down. For example, in some cases the figure 3 stands for I, in others for O; in some cases the figure 6