A DISPUTED WILL.
Dear Sir,—Mr. Donnelly's cryptogram, showing Bacon to be the author of all Shakspeare's plays, is a wonderful discovery. The principle only needs to be applied with sufficient ingenuity and perseverance, to revolutionise the whole field of literary history. I myself have only had time to apply it in a few instances, but have already got the really valuable result that Negretti and Zambra wrote most of the works of Milton. Day and Martin Luther wrote Sandford and Merton, and Sir Walter Scott wrote the ballad with the refrain "Two Lovely Black Eyes." Charles Thackeray's works were entirely written by William Makepeace Dickens. Hence the cryptogrammatic name. I am working as hard at the theory as the somewhat unelastic rules of this establishment will permit, and this morning I caught a cryptogram crawling up the window-pane. Aha! excuse my glove, I must dissemble,
Colney-Hatchwell. Yours, The "B" in Both.
Sir,—You are performing a truly noble and philanthropic work in throwing open your columns to a subject which must inevitably seem "caviare to the general" (Bacon). To myself, personally, the raising of the controversy at the present time is annoying, because I happen to have hit independently on exactly the same idea as Mr. Donnelly's; viz., that there is an underground narrative running through Shakspeare. Darwin and Wallace, you may remember, discovered the origin of species simultaneously, so why not I and Donnelly the origin of Shakspeare? But my cryptogram leads to an entirely different result from Mr. Donnelly's, who has, I am certain, being led off on a false scent. Instead of multiplying every 270th word, as he does, by the number of full-stops in the page, and then dividing the result by the number of years during which Anne Hathaway is supposed to have resided at Stratford-on-Avon, he should first have discovered the total quantity of words in all Shakspeare's plays and sonnets, and after that the quantity in the Novum Organon; then reducing the probable salary which Bacon received as Lord Chancellor, each year, down to farthings, he should have divided (not multiplied) them all into each other, and brought them to decimals, and then applied that result to the plays. The process is a little complicated, but I can't make it clearer at present. Anyhow, the entrancing interest of the story so obtained can be judged from the headings of the chapters.
"Lord Bacon arrives at Stratford disguised as a bargee. His midnight visit to Shakspeare's house. The poaching plot hatched. In the churchyard. The Ghost among the tombs. The Ghost discovered to be Queen Elizabeth, who had followed Bacon to Stratford disguised as a Tilbury fish-wife. The Queen buried alive in Stratford churchyard by Bacon and Shakspeare. The good Vicar bribed. Their scheme to dress up Anne Hathaway as Queen. Its success. Anne Hathaway reigns twenty years, everybody taking her for Elizabeth. Shakspeare (stricken with remorse) appears suddenly at the bedside of Bacon. Threatens to disclose all. Bacon murders Shakspeare. Takes all Shakspeare's Plays (hitherto unacted, having been rejected by the Managers of the period as 'wholly devoid of dramatic power') out of his pocket, and produces them next day as his own. Success of this plot also. How Bacon repents at last. Invents the Cryptogram. Inserts it in the Plays on his deathbed."
You will see from this abstract that there are elements of far greater interest in my theory than in Mr. Donnelly's, and my publishers sincerely trust that you will insert this letter, as a gratuitous advertisement may help the sale of my forthcoming work, entitled, Who Killed Shakspeare and Queen Elizabeth? Your obedient servant, Artful Plodder.
Sir,—Surely it is impossible to doubt any longer that Bacon wrote Hamlet. Why, in that play you find him actually confessing his cowardice in not claiming the authorship of his own plays! What else can these words mean?
"What should such fellows as I do crawling between earth and heaven? We are arrant knaves all."
Then occurs this truly remarkable sentence:—
"God hath given you one face, and you make yourselves another."
Given whom? Why, Bacon himself! Did he not make his face into another's, namely, Shakspeare's? The case is as clear as noonday. Let the insular cavillers at Donnelly, just because he is an American, hide their diminished heads. Anti-Humbug.
Dear Sir,—Would one of your readers kindly inform me how Friar Bacon could have written Shakspeare? I see by Little Arthur's History of England that the former lived three hundred years before Shakspeare was born. This seems to be a conclusive proof that Mr. Donnelly is wrong; but though I am very fond of history, I do not profess to be a great historical critic. Tilly Slowboy.
Sir,—In looking over Macbeth, I have found a really remarkable confirmation of Mr. Donnelly's cryptographic story. The story relates how, when Cecil told Queen Elizabeth that Shakspeare's plays were treasonable, she "rises up, beats Hayward with her crutch, and nearly kills him." In Act III., Scene 4, of Macbeth, occurs this line,—
"It will have blood; they say, blood will have blood"—
i.e., Queen Elizabeth, being a person of good blood, or high lineage, will have blood, i.e., from the head of the person she beats with the crutch.
A few lines further on is a striking confirmation of this.
Macbeth says,—
"How say'st thou, that Macduff denies his person
At our great bidding?"
Macduff here is cryptographic for Shakspeare. When summoned by the Queen to answer Cecil's charge, Shakspeare did deny his person at her bidding. Mr. Donnelly's is a great discovery. The world does advance, in spite of Lord Salisbury. Yours, Radical.
Dear Sir,—How long will the British public allow an impudent Yankee to lead it astray? Mr. Donnelly has evidently never read my historical novel, A Tale of the Invincible Armada, which somehow failed to meet with the enthusiasm it deserved, or he would know that Cecil valued Shakspeare most highly. In my book he never addresses the Bard without saying, "Marry, Gossip," or "I' faith, good coz." I am sure your readers will be glad of this information; also to hear that I am bringing out a cheap popular edition of the same book, price only three-and-sixpence. Order at once, Yours, M. Ainchance.
Sir,—Perhaps, after all, the best solution of the Shakspeare-Bacon puzzle is one analogous to that suggested by a learned Don in the Homer controversy—viz., that the person who wrote the plays was not Shakspeare, but another man of the same name. Yours, Commonsensicus Academicus.