The Code Book Part 4

The story begins at the Washington Hotel in Lynchburg, Virginia, sixty-five years before the publication of the pamphlet. According to the pamphlet, the hotel and its owner, Robert Morriss, were held in high regard: "His kind disposition, strict probity, excellent management, and well ordered household, soon rendered him famous as a host, and his reputation extended even to other States. His was the house par excellence of the town, and no fashionable a.s.semblages met at any other." In January 1820 a stranger by the name of Thomas J. Beale rode into Lynchburg and checked into the Washington Hotel. "In person, he was about six feet in height," recalled Morriss, "with jet black eyes and hair of the same color, worn longer than was the style at the time. His form was symmetrical, and gave evidence of unusual strength and activity; but his distinguishing feature was a dark and swarthy complexion, as if much exposure to the sun and weather had thoroughly tanned and discolored him; this, however, did not detract from his appearance, and I thought him the handsomest man I had ever seen." Although Beale spent the rest of the winter with Morriss and was "extremely popular with every one, particularly the ladies," he never spoke about his background, his family or the purpose of his visit. Then, at the end of March, he left as suddenly as he had arrived.

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Figure 20 The t.i.tle page of The t.i.tle page of The Beale Papers The Beale Papers, the pamphlet that contains all that we know about the mystery of the Beale treasure. (photo credit 2.3) Two years later, in January 1822, Beale returned to the Washington Hotel, "darker and swarthier than ever." Once again, he spent the rest of the winter in Lynchburg and disappeared in the spring, but not before he entrusted Morriss with a locked iron box, which he said contained "papers of value and importance." Morriss placed the box in a safe, and thought nothing more about it and its contents until he received a letter from Beale, dated May 9, 1822, and sent from St. Louis. After a few pleasantries and a paragraph about an intended trip to the plains "to hunt the buffalo and encounter the savage grizzlies," Beale's letter revealed the significance of the box: It contains papers vitally affecting the fortunes of myself and many others engaged in business with me, and in the event of my death, its loss might be irreparable. You will, therefore, see the necessity of guarding it with vigilance and care to prevent so great a catastrophe. Should none of us ever return you will please preserve carefully the box for the period of ten years from the date of this letter, and if I, or no one with authority from me, during that time demands its restoration, you will open it, which can be done by removing the lock. You will find, in addition to the papers addressed to you, other papers which will be unintelligible without the aid of a key to a.s.sist you. Such a key I have left in the hand of a friend in this place, sealed and addressed to yourself, and endorsed not to be delivered until June 1832. By means of this you will understand fully all you will be required to do.

Morriss dutifully continued to guard the box, waiting for Beale to collect it, but the swarthy man of mystery never returned to Lynchburg. He disappeared without explanation, never to be seen again. Ten years later, Morriss could have followed the letter's instructions and opened the box, but he seems to have been reluctant to break the lock. Beale's letter had mentioned that a note would be sent to Morriss in June 1832, and this was supposed to explain how to decipher the contents of the box. However, the note never arrived, and perhaps Morriss felt that there was no point opening the box if he could not decipher what was inside it. Eventually, in 1845, Morriss's curiosity got the better of him and he cracked open the lock. The box contained three sheets of enciphered characters, and a note written by Beale in plain English.

The intriguing note revealed the truth about Beale, the box, and the ciphers. It explained that in April 1817, almost three years before his first meeting with Morriss, Beale and 29 others had embarked on a journey across America. After traveling through the rich hunting grounds of the Western plains, they arrived in Santa Fe, and spent the winter in the "little Mexican town." In March they headed north and began tracking an "immense herd of buffaloes," picking off as many as possible along the way. Then, according to Beale, they struck lucky: across America. After traveling through the rich hunting grounds of the Western plains, they arrived in Santa Fe, and spent the winter in the "little Mexican town." In March they headed north and began tracking an "immense herd of buffaloes," picking off as many as possible along the way. Then, according to Beale, they struck lucky: One day, while following them, the party encamped in a small ravine, some 250 or 300 miles north of Santa Fe, and, with their horses tethered, were preparing their evening meal, when one of the men discovered in a cleft of the rocks something that had the appearance of gold. Upon showing it to the others it was p.r.o.nounced to be gold, and much excitement was the natural consequence.

The letter went on to explain that Beale and his men, with help from the local tribe, mined the site for the next eighteen months, by which time they had acc.u.mulated a large quant.i.ty of gold, as well as some silver which was found nearby. In due course they agreed that their newfound wealth should be moved to a secure place, and decided to take it back home to Virginia, where they would hide it in a secret location. In 1820, Beale traveled to Lynchburg with the gold and silver, found a suitable location, and buried it. It was on this occasion that he first lodged at the Washington Hotel and made the acquaintance of Morriss. When Beale left at the end of the winter, he rejoined his men who had continued to work the mine during his absence.

After another eighteen months Beale revisited Lynchburg with even more to add to his stash. This time there was an additional reason for his trip: Before leaving my companions on the plains it was suggested that, in case of an accident to ourselves, the treasure so concealed would be lost to their relatives, without some provision against such a contingency. I was, therefore, instructed to select some perfectly reliable person, if such could be found, who should, in the event of this proving acceptable to the party, be confided in to carry out their wishes in regard to their respective shares.

Beale believed that Morriss was a man of integrity, which is why he trusted him with the box containing the three enciphered sheets, the so-called Beale ciphers. Each enciphered sheet contained an array of numbers (reprinted here as Figures 21 Figures 21, 22 22 and and 23 23), and deciphering the numbers would reveal all the relevant details; the first sheet described the treasure's location, the second outlined the contents of the treasure, and the third listed the relatives of the men who should receive a share of the treasure. When Morriss read all of this, it was some 23 years after he had last seen Thomas Beale. Working on the a.s.sumption that Beale and his men were dead, Morriss felt obliged to find the gold and share it among their relatives. However, without the promised key he was forced to decipher the ciphers from scratch, a task that troubled his mind for the next twenty years, and which ended in failure. treasure's location, the second outlined the contents of the treasure, and the third listed the relatives of the men who should receive a share of the treasure. When Morriss read all of this, it was some 23 years after he had last seen Thomas Beale. Working on the a.s.sumption that Beale and his men were dead, Morriss felt obliged to find the gold and share it among their relatives. However, without the promised key he was forced to decipher the ciphers from scratch, a task that troubled his mind for the next twenty years, and which ended in failure.

In 1862, at the age of eighty-four, Morriss knew that he was coming to the end of his life, and that he had to share the secret of the Beale ciphers, otherwise any hope of carrying out Beale's wishes would die with him. Morriss confided in a friend, but unfortunately the ident.i.ty of this person remains a mystery. All we know about Morriss's friend is that it was he who wrote the pamphlet in 1885, so hereafter I will refer to him simply as the author the author. The author explained the reasons for his anonymity within the pamphlet: I antic.i.p.ate for these papers a large circulation, and, to avoid the mult.i.tude of letters with which I should be a.s.sailed from all sections of the Union, propounding all sorts of questions, and requiring answers which, if attended to, would absorb my entire time, and only change the character of my work, I have decided upon withdrawing my name from the publication, after a.s.suring all interested that I have given all that I know of the matter, and that I cannot add one word to the statements herein contained.

To protect his ident.i.ty, the author asked James B. Ward, a respected member of the local community and the county's road surveyor, to act as his agent and publisher.

Everything we know about the strange tale of the Beale ciphers is published in the pamphlet, and so it is thanks to the author that we have the ciphers and Morriss's account of the story. In addition to this, the author is also responsible for successfully deciphering the second Beale cipher. Like the first and third ciphers, the second cipher consists of a page of numbers, and the author a.s.sumed that each number represented a letter. However, the range of numbers far exceeds the number of letters in the alphabet, so the author realized that he was dealing with a cipher that uses several numbers to represent the same letter. One cipher that fulfils this criterion is the so-called book cipher book cipher, in which a book, or any other piece of text, is itself the key.

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Figure 21 The first Beale cipher. The first Beale cipher.

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Figure 22 The second Beale cipher. The second Beale cipher.

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Figure 23 The third Beale cipher. The third Beale cipher.

First, the cryptographer sequentially numbers every word in the keytext. Thereafter, each number acts as a subst.i.tute for the initial letter of its a.s.sociated word. 1 1For 2 2example, 3 3if 4 4the 5 5sender 6 6and 7 7receiver 8 8agreed 9 9that 10 10this 11 11sentence 12 12were 13 13to 14 14be 15 15the 16 16keytext, 17 17then 18 18every 19 19word 20 20would 21 21be 22 22numerically 23 23labeled, 24 24each 25 25number 26 26providing 27 27the 28 28basis 29 29for 30 30encryption. Next, a list would be drawn up matching each number to the initial letter of its a.s.sociated word: 1 = f 2 = e 3 = i 4 = t 5 = s 6 = a 7 = r 8 = a 9 = t 10 = t 11 = s 12 = w 13 = t 14 = b 15 = t 16 = k 17 = t 18 = e 19 = w 20 = w 21 = b 22 = n 23 = l 24 = e 25 = n 26 = p 27 = t 28 = b 29 = f 30 = e A message can now be encrypted by subst.i.tuting letters in the plaintext for numbers according to the list. In this list, the plaintext letter f would be subst.i.tuted with 1, and the plaintext letter e could be subst.i.tuted with either 2, 18, 24 or 30. Because our keytext is such a short sentence, we do not have numbers that could replace rare letters such as x and z, but we do have enough subst.i.tutes to encipher the word beale, which could be 14-2-8-23-18. If the intended receiver has a copy of the keytext, then deciphering the encrypted message is trivial. However, if a third party intercepts only the ciphertext, then crypta.n.a.lysis depends on somehow identifying the keytext. The author of the pamphlet wrote, "With this idea, a test was made of every book I could procure, by numbering its letters and comparing the numbers with those of the ma.n.u.script; all to no purpose, however, until the Declaration of Independence afforded the clue to one of the papers, and revived all my hopes."

The Declaration of Independence turned out to be the keytext for the second Beale cipher, and by numbering the words in the Declaration it is possible to unravel it. possible to unravel it. Figure 24 Figure 24 shows the start of the Declaration of Independence, with every tenth word numbered to help the reader see how the decipherment works. shows the start of the Declaration of Independence, with every tenth word numbered to help the reader see how the decipherment works. Figure 22 Figure 22 shows the ciphertext-the first number is 115, and the 115th word in the Declaration is "inst.i.tuted," so the first number represents i. The second number in the ciphertext is 73, and the 73rd word in the Declaration is "hold," so the second number represents h. Here is the whole decipherment, as printed in the pamphlet: shows the ciphertext-the first number is 115, and the 115th word in the Declaration is "inst.i.tuted," so the first number represents i. The second number in the ciphertext is 73, and the 73rd word in the Declaration is "hold," so the second number represents h. Here is the whole decipherment, as printed in the pamphlet: I have deposited in the county of Bedford, about four miles from Buford's, in an excavation or vault, six feet below the surface of the ground, the following articles, belonging jointly to the parties whose names are given in number "3," herewith: The first deposit consisted of one thousand and fourteen pounds of gold, and three thousand eight hundred and twelve pounds of silver, deposited November, 1819. The second was made December, 1821, and consisted of nineteen hundred and seven pounds of gold, and twelve hundred and eighty-eight pounds of silver; also jewels, obtained in St. Louis in exchange for silver to save transportation, and valued at $13,000.

The above is securely packed in iron pots, with iron covers. The vault is roughly lined with stone, and the vessels rest on solid stone, and are covered with others. Paper number "1" describes the exact locality of the vault, so that no difficulty will be had in finding it.

It is worth noting that there are some errors in the ciphertext. For example, the decipherment includes the words "four miles," which relies on the 95th word of the Declaration of Independence beginning with the letter u u. However, the 95th word is "inalienable." This could be the result of Beale's sloppy encryption, or it could be that Beale had a copy of the Declaration in which the 95th word was "unalienable," which does appear in some versions dating from the early nineteenth century. Either way, the successful decipherment clearly indicated the value of the treasure-at least $20 million at today's bullion prices.

Not surprisingly, once the author knew the value of the treasure, he spent increasing amounts of time a.n.a.lyzing the other two cipher sheets, particularly the first Beale cipher, which describes the treasure's location. Despite strenuous efforts he failed, and the ciphers brought him nothing but sorrow: When, in the course of human events, it becomes 10 10necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which 20 20have connected them with another, and to a.s.sume among the 30 30powers of the earth, the separate and equal station to 40 40which the laws of nature and of nature's G.o.d ent.i.tle 50 50them, a decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires 60 60that they should declare the causes which impel them to 70 70the separation.

We hold these truths to be self-evident, 80 80that all men are created equal, that they are endowed 90 90by their Creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these 100 100are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness; That to 110 110secure these rights, governments are inst.i.tuted among men, deriving their 120 120just powers from the consent of the governed; That whenever 130 130any form of government becomes destructive of these ends, it 140 140is the right of the people to alter or to 150 150abolish it, and to inst.i.tute a new government, laying its 160 160foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such 170 170form, as to them shall seem most likely to effect 180 180their safety and happiness. Prudence, indeed, will dictate that governments 190 190long established should not be changed for light and transient 200 200causes; and accordingly all experience hath shewn, that mankind are 210 210more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, than to 220 220right themselves by abolishing the forms to which they are 230 230accustomed.

But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, 240 240pursuing invariably the same object evinces a design to reduce them 250 250under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their 260 260duty, to throw off such government, and to provide new 270 270Guards for their future security. Such has been the patient 280 280sufferance of these Colonies; and such is now the necessity 290 290which constrains them to alter their former systems of government. 300 300The history of the present King of Great Britain is 310 310a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in 320 320direct object the establishment of an absolute tyranny over these 330 330States. To prove this, let facts be submitted to a 340 340 candid world. candid world.

Figure 24 The first three paragraphs of the Declaration of Independence, with every tenth word numbered. This is the key for deciphering the second Beale cipher. The first three paragraphs of the Declaration of Independence, with every tenth word numbered. This is the key for deciphering the second Beale cipher.

In consequence of the time lost in the above investigation, I have been reduced from comparative affluence to absolute penury, entailing suffering upon those it was my duty to protect, and this, too, in spite of their remonstrations. My eyes were at last opened to their condition, and I resolved to sever at once, and forever, all connection with the affair, and retrieve, if possible, my errors. To do this, as the best means of placing temptation beyond my reach, I determined to make public the whole matter, and shift from my shoulders my responsibility to Mr. Morriss.

Thus the ciphers, along with everything else known by the author, were published in 1885. Although a warehouse fire destroyed most of the pamphlets, those that survived caused quite a stir in Lynchburg. Among the most ardent treasure hunters attracted to the Beale ciphers were the Hart brothers, George and Clayton. For years they pored over the two remaining ciphers, mounting various forms of crypta.n.a.lytic attack, occasionally fooling themselves into believing that they had a solution. A false line of attack will sometimes generate a few tantalizing words within a sea of gibberish, which then encourages the crypta.n.a.lyst to devise a series of caveats to excuse the gibberish. To an unbiased observer the decipherment is clearly nothing more than wishful thinking, but to the blinkered treasure hunter it makes complete sense. One of the Harts' tentative decipherments encouraged them to use dynamite to excavate a particular site; unfortunately, the resulting crater yielded no gold. Although Clayton Hart gave up in 1912, George continued working on the Beale ciphers until 1952. An even more persistent Beale fanatic has been Hiram Herbert, Jr., who first became interested in 1923 and whose obsession continued right through to the 1970s. He, too, had nothing to show for his efforts.

Professional crypta.n.a.lysts have also embarked on the Beale treasure trail. Herbert O. Yardley, who founded the U.S. Cipher Bureau (known as the American Black Chamber) at the end of the First World War, was intrigued by the Beale ciphers, as was Colonel William Friedman, the dominant figure in American crypta.n.a.lysis during the first half of the twentieth century. While he was in charge of the Signal Intelligence Service, he made the Beale ciphers part of the training program, presumably because, as his wife once said, he believed the ciphers to be of "diabolical ingenuity, specifically designed to lure the unwary reader." The Friedman archive, established after his death in 1969 at the George C. Marshall Research Center, is frequently consulted by military historians, but the great majority of visitors are eager Beale devotees, hoping to follow up some of the great man's leads. More recently, one of the major figures in the hunt for the Beale treasure has been Carl Hammer, retired director of computer science at Sperry Univac and one of the pioneers of computer crypta.n.a.lysis. According to Hammer, "the Beale ciphers have occupied at least 10% of the best crypta.n.a.lytic minds in the country. And not a dime of this effort should be begrudged. The work-even the lines that have led into blind alleys-has more than paid for itself in advancing and refining computer research." Hammer has been a prominent member of the Beale Cypher and Treasure a.s.sociation, founded in the 1960s to encourage interest in the Beale mystery. Initially, the a.s.sociation required that any member who discovered the treasure should share it with the other members, but this obligation seemed to deter many Beale prospectors from joining, and so the a.s.sociation soon dropped the condition. Friedman archive, established after his death in 1969 at the George C. Marshall Research Center, is frequently consulted by military historians, but the great majority of visitors are eager Beale devotees, hoping to follow up some of the great man's leads. More recently, one of the major figures in the hunt for the Beale treasure has been Carl Hammer, retired director of computer science at Sperry Univac and one of the pioneers of computer crypta.n.a.lysis. According to Hammer, "the Beale ciphers have occupied at least 10% of the best crypta.n.a.lytic minds in the country. And not a dime of this effort should be begrudged. The work-even the lines that have led into blind alleys-has more than paid for itself in advancing and refining computer research." Hammer has been a prominent member of the Beale Cypher and Treasure a.s.sociation, founded in the 1960s to encourage interest in the Beale mystery. Initially, the a.s.sociation required that any member who discovered the treasure should share it with the other members, but this obligation seemed to deter many Beale prospectors from joining, and so the a.s.sociation soon dropped the condition.

Despite the combined efforts of the a.s.sociation, amateur treasure hunters and professional crypta.n.a.lysts, the first and third Beale ciphers have remained a mystery for over a century, and the gold, silver and jewels have yet to be found. Many attempts at decipherment have revolved around the Declaration of Independence, which was the key for the second Beale cipher. Although a straightforward numbering of the words of the Declaration yields nothing useful for the first and third ciphers, crypta.n.a.lysts have tried various other schemes, such as numbering it backward or numbering alternate words, but so far nothing has worked. One problem is that the first cipher contains numbers as high as 2906, whereas the Declaration contains only 1,322 words. Other texts and books have been considered as potential keys, and many crypta.n.a.lysts have looked into the possibility of an entirely different encryption system.

You might be surprised by the strength of the unbroken Beale ciphers, especially bearing in mind that when we left the ongoing battle between codemakers and codebreakers, it was the codebreakers who were on top. Babbage and Kasiski had invented a way of breaking the Vigenere cipher, and codemakers were struggling to find something to replace it. How did Beale come up with something that is so formidable? The answer is that the Beale ciphers were created under circ.u.mstances that gave the cryptographer a great advantage. This matter concerns just three messages, and, because they related to such a valuable treasure, Beale might have been prepared to create a special keytext for the first and third ciphers. Indeed, if the keytext was penned by Beale himself, this would explain why searches of published material have not revealed it. We can imagine that Beale might have written a 2,000-word private essay on the subject of buffalo hunting, of which there was only one copy. Only the holder of this essay, the unique keytext, would be able to decipher the first and third Beale ciphers. Beale mentioned that he had left the key in "the hand of a friend" in St. Louis, but if the friend lost or destroyed the key, then crypta.n.a.lysts might never be able to crack the Beale ciphers. cryptographer a great advantage. This matter concerns just three messages, and, because they related to such a valuable treasure, Beale might have been prepared to create a special keytext for the first and third ciphers. Indeed, if the keytext was penned by Beale himself, this would explain why searches of published material have not revealed it. We can imagine that Beale might have written a 2,000-word private essay on the subject of buffalo hunting, of which there was only one copy. Only the holder of this essay, the unique keytext, would be able to decipher the first and third Beale ciphers. Beale mentioned that he had left the key in "the hand of a friend" in St. Louis, but if the friend lost or destroyed the key, then crypta.n.a.lysts might never be able to crack the Beale ciphers.

Creating a keytext for a message is much more secure than using a key based on a published book, but it is practical only if the sender has the time to create the keytext and is able to convey it to the intended recipient, requirements that are not feasible for routine, day-to-day communications. In Beale's case, he could compose his keytext at leisure, deliver it to his friend in St. Louis whenever he happened to be pa.s.sing through, and then have it posted or collected at some arbitrary time in the future, whenever the treasure was to be reclaimed.

An alternative theory for explaining the indecipherability of the Beale ciphers is that the author of the pamphlet deliberately sabotaged them before having them published. Perhaps the author merely wanted to flush out the key, which was apparently in the hands of Beale's friend in St. Louis. If he had accurately published the ciphers, then the friend would have been able to decipher them and collect the gold, and the author would have received no reward for his efforts. However, if the ciphers were corrupted in some way, then the friend would eventually realize that he needed the author's help, and would contact the publisher, Ward, who in turn would contact the author. The author could then hand over the accurate ciphers in exchange for a share of the treasure.

It is also possible that the treasure was found many years ago, and that the discoverer spirited it away without being spotted by local residents. Beale enthusiasts with a penchant for conspiracy theories have suggested that the National Security Agency (NSA) has already found the treasure. America's central government cipher facility has access to the most powerful computers and some of the most brilliant minds in the world, and they may have discovered something about the ciphers that has eluded everybody else. The lack of any announcement would be in keeping with the NSA's hush-hush reputation-it has been proposed that NSA does not stand for National Security Agency, but rather "Never Say Anything" or "No Such Agency." and they may have discovered something about the ciphers that has eluded everybody else. The lack of any announcement would be in keeping with the NSA's hush-hush reputation-it has been proposed that NSA does not stand for National Security Agency, but rather "Never Say Anything" or "No Such Agency."

Finally, we cannot exclude the possibility that the Beale ciphers are an elaborate hoax, and that Beale never existed. Sceptics have suggested that the unknown author, inspired by Poe's "The Gold Bug," fabricated the whole story and published the pamphlet as a way of profiting from the greed of others. Supporters of the hoax theory have searched for inconsistencies and flaws in the Beale story. For example, according to the pamphlet, Beale's letter, which was locked in the iron box and supposedly written in 1822, contains the word "stampede," but this word was not seen in print until 1834. However, it is quite possible that the word was in common use in the Wild West at a much earlier date, and Beale could have learned of it on his travels.

One of the foremost nonbelievers is the cryptographer Louis Kruh, who claims to have found evidence that the pamphlet's author also wrote Beale's letters, the one supposedly sent from St. Louis and the one supposedly contained in the box. He performed a textual a.n.a.lysis on the words attributed to the author and the words attributed to Beale to see if there were any similarities. Kruh compared aspects such as the percentage of sentences beginning with "The," "Of" and "And," the average number of commas and semicolons per sentence, and the writing style-the use of negatives, negative pa.s.sives, infinitives, relative clauses, and so on. In addition to the author's words and Beale's letters, the a.n.a.lysis also took in the writing of three other nineteenth-century Virginians. Of the five sets of writing, those auth.o.r.ed by Beale and the pamphlet's author bore the closest resemblance, suggesting that they may have been written by the same person. In other words, this suggests that the author faked the letters attributed to Beale and fabricated the whole story.

On the other hand, evidence for the integrity of the Beale ciphers is provided from various sources. First, if the undeciphered ciphers were hoaxes, we might expect the hoaxer to have chosen the numbers with little or no attention. However, the numbers give rise to various intricate patterns. One of the patterns can be found by using the Declaration of Independence as a key for the first cipher. This yields no discernible words, but it does give sequences such as abfdefghiijklmmnohpp. Although this is not a perfect alphabetical list, it is certainly not random. James Gillogly of the American Cryptogram a.s.sociation is not convinced that the Beale ciphers are authentic. However, he estimates that the probability of such sequences appearing by chance is less than one in a hundred million million, suggesting that there is a cryptographic principle underlying the first cipher. One theory is that the Declaration is indeed the key, but the resulting text requires a second stage of decipherment; in other words, the first Beale cipher was enciphered by a two-stage process, so-called superencipherment. If this is so, then the alphabetical sequence might have been put there as a sign of encouragement, a hint that the first stage of decipherment has been successfully completed. Independence as a key for the first cipher. This yields no discernible words, but it does give sequences such as abfdefghiijklmmnohpp. Although this is not a perfect alphabetical list, it is certainly not random. James Gillogly of the American Cryptogram a.s.sociation is not convinced that the Beale ciphers are authentic. However, he estimates that the probability of such sequences appearing by chance is less than one in a hundred million million, suggesting that there is a cryptographic principle underlying the first cipher. One theory is that the Declaration is indeed the key, but the resulting text requires a second stage of decipherment; in other words, the first Beale cipher was enciphered by a two-stage process, so-called superencipherment. If this is so, then the alphabetical sequence might have been put there as a sign of encouragement, a hint that the first stage of decipherment has been successfully completed.

Further evidence favoring the probity of the ciphers comes from historical research, which can be used to verify the story of Thomas Beale. Peter Viemeister, a local historian, has gathered much of the research in his book The Beale TreasureHistory of a Mystery The Beale TreasureHistory of a Mystery. Viemeister began by asking if there was any evidence that Thomas Beale actually existed. Using the census of 1790 and other doc.u.ments, Viemeister has identified several Thomas Beales who were born in Virginia and whose backgrounds fit the few known details. Viemeister has also attempted to corroborate the other details in the pamphlet, such as Beale's trip to Santa Fe and his discovery of gold. For example, there is a Cheyenne legend dating from around 1820 which tells of gold and silver being taken from the West and buried in Eastern Mountains. Also, the 1820 postmaster's list in St. Louis contains a "Thomas Beall," which fits in with the pamphlet's claim that Beale pa.s.sed through the city in 1820 on his journey westward after leaving Lynchburg. The pamphlet also says that Beale sent a letter from St. Louis in 1822.

So there does seem to be a basis for the tale of the Beale ciphers, and consequently it continues to enthrall crypta.n.a.lysts and treasure hunters, such as Joseph Jancik, Marilyn Parsons and their dog m.u.f.fin. In February 1983 they were charged with "violation of a sepulcher," after being caught digging in the cemetery of Mountain View Church in the middle of the night. Having discovered nothing other than a coffin, they spent the rest of the weekend in the county jail and were eventually fined $500. These amateur gravediggers can console themselves with the knowledge that they were hardly any less successful than Mel Fisher, the professional treasure hunter who salvaged $40 million worth of gold from the sunken Spanish galleon amateur gravediggers can console themselves with the knowledge that they were hardly any less successful than Mel Fisher, the professional treasure hunter who salvaged $40 million worth of gold from the sunken Spanish galleon Nuestra Senora de Atocha Nuestra Senora de Atocha, which he discovered off Key West, Florida, in 1985. In November 1989, Fisher received a tip-off from a Beale expert in Florida, who believed that Beale's h.o.a.rd was buried at Graham's Mill in Bedford County, Virginia. Supported by a team of wealthy investors, Fisher bought the site under the name of Mr. Voda, in order to avoid arousing any suspicion. Despite a lengthy excavation, he discovered nothing.

Some treasure hunters have abandoned hope of cracking the two undeciphered sheets, and have concentrated instead on gleaning clues from the one cipher that has been deciphered. For example, as well as describing the contents of the buried treasure, the solved cipher states that it is deposited "about four miles from Buford's," which probably refers to the community of Buford or, more specifically, to Buford's Tavern, located at the center of Figure 25 Figure 25. The cipher also mentions that "the vault is roughly lined with stone," so many treasure hunters have searched along Goose Creek, a rich source of large stones. Each summer the region attracts hopefuls, some armed with metal detectors, others accompanied by psychics or diviners. The nearby town of Bedford has a number of businesses which gladly hire out equipment, including industrial diggers. Local farmers tend to be less welcoming to the strangers, who often trespa.s.s on their land, damage their fences and dig giant holes.

Having read the tale of the Beale ciphers, you might be encouraged to take up the challenge yourself. The lure of an unbroken nineteenth-century cipher, together with a treasure worth $20 million, might prove irresistible. However, before you set off on the treasure trail, take heed of the advice given by the author of the pamphlet: Before giving the papers to the public, I would say a word to those who may take an interest in them, and give them a little advice, acquired by bitter experience. It is, to devote only such time as can be spared from your legitimate business to the task, and if you can spare no time, let the matter alone...Again, never, as I have done, sacrifice your own and your family's interests to what may prove an illusion; but, as I have already said, when your day's work is done, and you are comfortably seated by your good fire, a short time devoted to the subject can injure no one, and may bring its reward.

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Figure 25 Part of a U.S. Geological Survey map of 1891. The circle has a radius of four miles, and is centered on Buford's Tavern, a location alluded to in the second cipher. Part of a U.S. Geological Survey map of 1891. The circle has a radius of four miles, and is centered on Buford's Tavern, a location alluded to in the second cipher.

3 The Mechanization of Secrecy

At the end of the nineteenth century, cryptography was in disarray. Ever since Babbage and Kasiski had destroyed the security of the Vigenere cipher, cryptographers had been searching for a new cipher, something that would reestablish secret communication, thereby allowing businessmen and the military to exploit the immediacy of the telegraph without their communications being stolen and deciphered. Furthermore, at the turn of the century, the Italian physicist Guglielmo Marconi invented an even more powerful form of telecommunication, which made the need for secure encryption even more pressing.

In 1894, Marconi began experimenting with a curious property of electrical circuits. Under certain conditions, if one circuit carried an electric current, this could induce a current in another isolated circuit some distance away. By enhancing the design of the two circuits, increasing the power and adding aerials, Marconi could soon transmit and receive pulses of information across distances of up to 2.5 km. He had invented radio. The telegraph had already been established for half a century, but it required a wire to transport a message between sender and receiver. Marconi's system had the great advantage of being wireless-the signal traveled, as if by magic, through the air.

In 1896, in search of financial backing for his idea, Marconi emigrated to Britain, where he filed his first patent. Continuing his experiments, he increased the range of his radio communications, first transmitting a message 15 km across the Bristol Channel, and then 53 km across the English Channel to France. At the same time he began to look for commercial applications for his invention, pointing out to potential backers the two main advantages of radio: it did not require the construction of expensive telegraph lines, and it had the potential to send messages between otherwise isolated locations. He pulled off a magnificent publicity stunt in 1899, when he equipped two ships with radios so that journalists covering the America's Cup, the world's most important yacht race, could send reports back to New York for the following day's newspapers. between otherwise isolated locations. He pulled off a magnificent publicity stunt in 1899, when he equipped two ships with radios so that journalists covering the America's Cup, the world's most important yacht race, could send reports back to New York for the following day's newspapers.

Interest increased still further when Marconi shattered the myth that radio communication was limited by the horizon. Critics had argued that because radio waves could not bend and follow the curvature of the Earth, radio communication would be limited to a hundred kilometers or so. Marconi attempted to prove them wrong by sending a message from Poldhu in Cornwall to St. John's in Newfoundland, a distance of 3,500 km. In December 1901, for three hours each day, the Poldhu transmitter sent the letter S (dot-dot-dot) over and over again, while Marconi stood on the windy cliffs of Newfoundland trying to detect the radio waves. Day after day, he wrestled to raise aloft a giant kite, which in turn hoisted his antenna high into the air. A little after midday on December 12, Marconi detected three faint dots, the first transatlantic radio message. The explanation of Marconi's achievement remained a mystery until 1924, when physicists discovered the ionosphere, a layer of the atmosphere whose lower boundary is about 60 km above the Earth. The ionosphere acts as a mirror, allowing radio waves to bounce off it. Radio waves also bounce off the Earth's surface, so radio messages could effectively reach anywhere in the world after a series of reflections between the ionosphere and the Earth.

Marconi's invention tantalized the military, who viewed it with a mixture of desire and trepidation. The tactical advantages of radio are obvious: it allows direct communication between any two points without the need for a wire between the locations. Laying such a wire is often impractical, sometimes impossible. Previously, a naval commander based in port had no way of communicating with his ships, which might disappear for months on end, but radio would enable him to coordinate a fleet wherever the ships might be. Similarly, radio would allow generals to direct their campaigns, keeping them in continual contact with battalions, regardless of their movements. All this is made possible by the nature of radio waves, which emanate in all directions, and reach receivers wherever they may be. However, this all-pervasive property of radio is also its greatest military weakness, because messages will inevitably reach the enemy as well as the intended recipient. Consequently, reliable encryption became a necessity. If the enemy were going to be able to intercept every radio message, then cryptographers had to find a way of preventing them from deciphering these messages. well as the intended recipient. Consequently, reliable encryption became a necessity. If the enemy were going to be able to intercept every radio message, then cryptographers had to find a way of preventing them from deciphering these messages.

The mixed blessings of radio-ease of communication and ease of interception-were brought into sharp focus at the outbreak of the First World War. All sides were keen to exploit the power of radio, but were also unsure of how to guarantee security. Together, the advent of radio and the Great War intensified the need for effective encryption. The hope was that there would be a breakthrough, some new cipher that would reestablish secrecy for military commanders. However, between 1914 and 1918 there was to be no great discovery, merely a catalogue of cryptographic failures. Codemakers conjured up several new ciphers, but one by one they were broken.

One of the most famous wartime ciphers was the German ADFGVX cipher ADFGVX cipher, introduced on March 5, 1918, just before the major German offensive that began on March 21. Like any attack, the German thrust would benefit from the element of surprise, and a committee of cryptographers had selected the ADFGVX cipher from a variety of candidates, believing that it offered the best security. In fact, they were confident that it was unbreakable. The cipher's strength lay in its convoluted nature, a mixture of a subst.i.tution and transposition (see Appendix F Appendix F).

By the beginning of June 1918, the German artillery was only 100 km from Paris, and was preparing for one final push. The only hope for the Allies was to break the ADFGVX cipher to find just where the Germans were planning to punch through their defenses. Fortunately, they had a secret weapon, a crypta.n.a.lyst by the name of Georges Painvin. This dark, slender Frenchman with a penetrating mind had recognized his talent for cryptographic conundrums only after a chance meeting with a member of the Bureau du Chiffre soon after the outbreak of war. Thereafter, his priceless skill was devoted to pinpointing the weaknesses in German ciphers. He grappled day and night with the ADFGVX cipher, in the process losing 15 kg in weight.

Eventually, on the night of June 2, he cracked an ADFGVX message. Painvin's breakthrough led to a spate of other decipherments, including a message that contained the order "Rush munitions. Even by day if not seen." The preamble to the message indicated that it was sent from somewhere between Montdidier and Compiegne, some 80 km to the north of Paris. The urgent need for munitions implied that this was to be the location of the imminent German thrust. Aerial reconnaissance confirmed that this was the case. Allied soldiers were sent to reinforce this stretch of the front line, and a week later the German onslaught began. Having lost the element of surprise, the German army was beaten back in a h.e.l.lish battle that lasted five days. seen." The preamble to the message indicated that it was sent from somewhere between Montdidier and Compiegne, some 80 km to the north of Paris. The urgent need for munitions implied that this was to be the location of the imminent German thrust. Aerial reconnaissance confirmed that this was the case. Allied soldiers were sent to reinforce this stretch of the front line, and a week later the German onslaught began. Having lost the element of surprise, the German army was beaten back in a h.e.l.lish battle that lasted five days.

The breaking of the ADFGVX cipher typified cryptography during the First World War. Although there was a flurry of new ciphers, they were all variations or combinations of nineteenth-century ciphers that had already been broken. While some of them initially offered security, it was never long before crypta.n.a.lysts got the better of them. The biggest problem for crypta.n.a.lysts was dealing with the sheer volume of traffic. Before the advent of radio, intercepted messages were rare and precious items, and crypta.n.a.lysts cherished each one. However, in the First World War, the amount of radio traffic was enormous, and every single message could be intercepted, generating a steady flow of ciphertexts to occupy the minds of the crypta.n.a.lysts. It is estimated that the French intercepted a hundred million words of German communications during the course of the Great War.

Of all the wartime crypta.n.a.lysts, the French were the most effective. When they entered the war, they already had the strongest team of codebreakers in Europe, a consequence of the humiliating French defeat in the Franco-Prussian War. Napoleon III, keen to restore his declining popularity, had invaded Prussia in 1870, but he had not antic.i.p.ated the alliance between Prussia in the north and the southern German states. Led by Otto von Bismarck, the Prussians steamrollered the French army, annexing the provinces of Alsace and Lorraine and bringing an end to French domination of Europe. Thereafter, the continued threat of the newly united Germany seems to have been the spur for French crypta.n.a.lysts to master the skills necessary to provide France with detailed intelligence about the plans of its enemy.

It was in this climate that Auguste Kerckhoffs wrote his treatise La Cryptographie militaire La Cryptographie militaire. Although Kerckhoffs was Dutch, he spent most of his life in France, and his writings provided the French with an exceptional guide to the principles of crypta.n.a.lysis. By the time the First World War had begun, three decades later, the French military had implemented Kerckhoffs' ideas on an industrial scale. While lone geniuses like Painvin sought to break new ciphers, teams of experts, each with specially developed skills for tackling a particular cipher, concentrated on the day-to-day decipherments. Time was of the essence, and conveyor-belt crypta.n.a.lysis could provide intelligence quickly and efficiently. War had begun, three decades later, the French military had implemented Kerckhoffs' ideas on an industrial scale. While lone geniuses like Painvin sought to break new ciphers, teams of experts, each with specially developed skills for tackling a particular cipher, concentrated on the day-to-day decipherments. Time was of the essence, and conveyor-belt crypta.n.a.lysis could provide intelligence quickly and efficiently.

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Figure 26 Lieutenant Georges Painvin. ( Lieutenant Georges Painvin. (photo credit 3.1) Sun-Tzu, author of the Art of War Art of War, a text on military strategy dating from the fourth century B.C B.C., stated that: "Nothing should be as favorably regarded as intelligence; nothing should be as generously rewarded as intelligence; nothing should be as confidential as the work of intelligence." The French were fervent believers in the words of Sun-Tzu, and in addition to honing their crypta.n.a.lytic skills they also developed several ancillary techniques for gathering radio intelligence, methods that did not involve decipherment. For example, the French listening posts learned to recognize a radio operator's fist fist. Once encrypted, a message is sent in Morse code, as a series of dots and dashes, and each operator can be identified by his pauses, the speed of transmission, and the relative lengths of dots and dashes. A fist is the equivalent of a recognizable style of handwriting. As well as operating listening posts, the French established six direction finding stations which were able to detect where each message was coming from. Each station moved its antenna until the incoming signal was strongest, which identified a direction for the source of a message. By combining the directional information from two or more stations it was possible to locate the exact source of the enemy transmission. By combining fist information with direction finding, it was possible to establish both the ident.i.ty and the location of, say, a particular battalion. French intelligence could then track its path over the course of several days, and potentially deduce its destination and objective. This form of intelligence gathering, known as traffic a.n.a.lysis, was particularly valuable after the introduction of a new cipher. Each new cipher would make crypta.n.a.lysts temporarily impotent, but even if a message was indecipherable it could still yield information via traffic a.n.a.lysis.

The vigilance of the French was in sharp contrast to the att.i.tude of the Germans, who entered the war with no military crypta.n.a.lytic bureau. Not until 1916 did they set up the Abhorchdienst, an organization devoted to intercepting Allied messages. Part of the reason for their tardiness in establishing the Abhorchdienst was that the German army had advanced into French territory in the early phase of the war. The French, as they retreated, destroyed the landlines, forcing the advancing Germans to rely on radios for communication. While this gave the French a continuous supply of German intercepts, the opposite was not true. As the French were retreating back into their own territory, they still had access to their own landlines, and had no need to communicate by radio. With a lack of French radio communication, the Germans could not make many interceptions, and hence they did not bother to develop their crypta.n.a.lytic department until two years into the war. into French territory in the early phase of the war. The French, as they retreated, destroyed the landlines, forcing the advancing Germans to rely on radios for communication. While this gave the French a continuous supply of German intercepts, the opposite was not true. As the French were retreating back into their own territory, they still had access to their own landlines, and had no need to communicate by radio. With a lack of French radio communication, the Germans could not make many interceptions, and hence they did not bother to develop their crypta.n.a.lytic department until two years into the war.

The British and the Americans also made important contributions to Allied crypta.n.a.lysis. The supremacy of the Allied codebreakers and their influence on the Great War are best ill.u.s.trated by the decipherment of a German telegram that was intercepted by the British on January 17, 1917. The story of this decipherment shows how crypta.n.a.lysis can affect the course of war at the very highest level, and demonstrates the potentially devastating repercussions of employing inadequate encryption. Within a matter of weeks, the deciphered telegram would force America to rethink its policy of neutrality, thereby shifting the balance of the war.

Despite calls from politicians in Britain and America, President Woodrow Wilson had spent the first two years of the war steadfastly refusing to send American troops to support the Allies. Besides not wanting to sacrifice his nation's youth on the b.l.o.o.d.y battlefields of Europe, he was convinced that the war could be ended only by a negotiated settlement, and he believed that he could best serve the world if he remained neutral and acted as a mediator. In November 1916, Wilson saw hope for a settlement when Germany appointed a new Foreign Minister, Arthur Zimmermann, a jovial giant of a man who appeared to herald a new era of enlightened German diplomacy. American newspapers ran headlines such as OUR FRIEND OUR FRIEND ZIMMERMANN ZIMMERMANN and and LIBERALIZATION OF GERMANY LIBERALIZATION OF GERMANY, and one article proclaimed him as "one of the most auspicious omens for the future of German-American relations." However, unknown to the Americans, Zimmermann had no intention of pursuing peace. Instead, he was plotting to extend Germany's military aggression.

Back in 1915, a submerged German U-boat had been responsible for sinking the ocean liner Lusitania Lusitania, drowning 1,198 pa.s.sengers, including 128 U.S. civilians. The loss of the Lusitania Lusitania would have drawn America would have drawn America into the war, were it not for Germany's rea.s.surances that henceforth Uboats would surface before attacking, a restriction that was intended to avoid accidental attacks on civilian ships. However, on January 9, 1917, Zimmermann attended a momentous meeting at the German castle of Pless, where the Supreme High Command was trying to persuade the Kaiser that it was time to renege on their promise, and embark on a course of unrestricted submarine warfare. German commanders knew that their U-boats were almost invulnerable if they launched their torpedoes while remaining submerged, and they believed that this would prove to be the decisive factor in determining the outcome of the war. Germany had been constructing a fleet of two hundred U-boats, and the Supreme High Command argued that unrestricted U-boat aggression would cut off Britain's supply lines and starve it into submission within six months. into the war, were it not for Germany's rea.s.surances that henceforth Uboats would surface before attacking, a restriction that was intended to avoid accidental attacks on civilian ships. However, on January 9, 1917, Zimmermann attended a momentous meeting at the German castle of Pless, where the Supreme High Command was trying to persuade the Kaiser that it was time to renege on their promise, and embark on a course of unrestricted submarine warfare. German commanders knew that their U-boats were almost invulnerable if they launched their torpedoes while remaining submerged, and they believed that this would prove to be the decisive factor in determining the outcome of the war. Germany had been constructing a fleet of two hundred U-boats, and the Supreme High Command argued that unrestricted U-boat aggression would cut off Britain's supply lines and starve it into submission within six months.

A swift victory was essential. Unrestricted submarine warfare and the inevitable sinking of U.S. civilian ships would almost certainly provoke America into declaring war on Germany. Bearing this in mind, Germany needed to force an Allied surrender before America could mobilize its troops and make an impact in the European arena. By the end of the meeting at Pless, the Kaiser was convinced that a swift victory could be achieved, and he signed an order to proceed with unrestricted U-boat warfare, which would take effect on February 1.

In the three weeks that remained, Zimmermann devised an insurance policy. If unrestricted U-boat warfare increased the likelihood of America entering the war, then Zimmermann had a plan that would delay and weaken American involvement in Europe, and which might even discourage it completely. Zimmermann's idea was to propose an alliance with Mexico, and persuade the President of Mexico to invade America and reclaim territories such as Texas, New Mexico and Arizona. Germany would support Mexico in its battle with their common enemy, aiding it financially and militarily.

Furthermore, Zimmermann wanted the Mexican president to act as a mediator and persuade j.a.pan that it too should attack America. This way, Germany would pose a threat to America's East Coast, j.a.pan would attack from the west, while Mexico invaded from the south. Zimmermann's main motive was to pose America such problems at home that it could not afford to send troops to Europe. Thus Germany could win the battle at sea, win the war in Europe and then withdraw from the American campaign. On January 16, Zimmermann encapsulated his proposal in a telegram to the German Amba.s.sador in Washington, who would then retransmit it to the German Amba.s.sador in Mexico, who would finally deliver it to the Mexican President. at sea, win the war in Europe and then withdraw from the American campaign. On January 16, Zimmermann encapsulated his proposal in a telegram to the German Amba.s.sador in Washington, who would then retransmit it to the German Amba.s.sador in Mexico, who would finally deliver it to the Mexican President. Figure 28 Figure 28 shows the encrypted telegraph; the actual message is as follows: shows the encrypted telegraph; the actual message is as follows: [image]

Figure 27 Arthur Zimmermann. ( Arthur Zimmermann. (photo credit 3.1) We intend to begin unrestricted submarine warfare on the first of February. We shall endeavor in spite of this to keep the United States neutral. In the event of this not succeeding, we make Mexico a proposal of alliance on the following basis: make war together, make peace together, generous financial support, and an understanding on our part that Mexico is to reconquer the lost territory in Texas, New Mexico and Arizona. The settlement in detail is left to you.

You will inform the President [of Mexico] of the above most secretly, as soon as the outbreak of war with the United States is certain, and add the suggestion that he should, on his own initiative, invite j.a.pan to immediate adherence and at the same time mediate between j.a.pan and ourselves.

Please call the President's attention to the fact that the unrestricted employment of our submarines now offers the prospect of compelling England to make peace within a few months. Acknowledge receipt.

Zimmermann Zimmermann had to encrypt his telegram because Germany was aware that the Allies were intercepting all its transatlantic communications, a consequence of Britain's first offensive action of the war. Before dawn on the first day of the First World War, the British ship Telconia Telconia approached the German coast under cover of darkness, dropped anchor, and hauled up a clutch of undersea cables. These were Germany's transatlantic cables-its communication links to the rest of the world. By the time the sun had risen, they had been severed. This act of sabotage was aimed at destroying Germany's most secure means of communication, thereby forcing German messages to be sent via insecure radio links or via cables owned by other countries. Zimmermann was forced to send his encrypted telegram via Sweden and, as a back-up, via the more direct American-owned cable. Both routes touched England, which meant that the text of the Zimmermann telegram, as it would become known, soon fell into British hands. approached the German coast under cover of darkness, dropped anchor, and hauled up a clutch of undersea cables. These were Germany's transatlantic cables-its communication links to the rest of the world. By the time the sun had risen, they had been severed. This act of sabotage was aimed at destroying Germany's most secure means of communication, thereby forcing German messages to be sent via insecure radio links or via cables owned by other countries. Zimmermann was forced to send his encrypted telegram via Sweden and, as a back-up, via the more direct American-owned cable. Both routes touched England, which meant that the text of the Zimmermann telegram, as it would become known, soon fell into British hands.

The intercepted telegram was immediately sent to Room 40, the Admiralty's cipher bureau, named after the office in which it was initially housed. Room 40 was a strange mixture of linguists, cla.s.sical scholars and puzzle addicts, capable of the most ingenious feats of crypta.n.a.lysis. For example, the Reverend Montgomery, a gifted translator of German theological works, had deciphered a secret message hidden in a postcard addressed to Sir Henry Jones, 184 King's Road, Tighnabruaich, Scotland. cipher bureau, named after the office in which it was initially housed. Room 40 was a strange mixture of linguists, cla.s.sical scholars and puzzle addicts, capable of the most ingenious feats of crypta.n.a.lysis. For example, the Reverend Montgomery, a gifted translator of German theological works, had deciphered a secret message hidden in a postcard addressed to Sir Henry Jones, 184 King's Road, Tighnabruaich, Scotland.

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Figure 28 The Zimmermann telegram, as forwarded by von Bernstorff, the German Amba.s.sador in Washington, to Eckhardt, the German Amba.s.sador in Mexico City. ( The Zimmermann telegram, as forwarded by von Bernstorff, the German Amba.s.sador in Washington, to Eckhardt, the German Amba.s.sador in Mexico City. (photo credit 3.2) The postcard had been sent from Turkey, so Sir Henry had a.s.sumed that it was from his son, a prisoner of the Turks. However, he was puzzled because the postcard was blank, and the address was peculiar-the village of Tighnabruaich was so tiny that none of the houses had numbers and there was no King's Road. Eventually, the Reverend Montgomery spotted the postcard's cryptic message. The address alluded to the Bible, First Book of Kings, Chapter 18, Verse 4: "Obadiah took a hundred prophets, and hid them fifty in a cave, and fed them with bread and water." Sir Henry's son was simply rea.s.suring his family that he was being well looked after by his captors.

When the encrypted Zimmermann telegram arrived in Room 40, it was Montgomery who was made responsible for deciphering it, along with Nigel de Grey, a publisher seconded from the firm of William Heinemann. They saw immediately that they were dealing with a form of encryption used only for high-level diplomatic communications, and tackled the telegram with some urgency. The decipherment was far from trivial, but they were able to draw upon previous a.n.a.lyses of other similarly encrypted telegrams. Within a few hours the codebreaking duo had been able to recover a few chunks of text, enough to see that they were uncovering a message of the utmost importance. Montgomery and de Grey persevered with their task, and by the end of the day they could discern the outline of Zimmermann's terrible plans. They realized the dreadful implications of unrestricted U-boat warfare, but at the same time they could see that the German Foreign Minister was encouraging an attack on America, which was likely to provoke President Wilson into abandoning America's neutrality. The telegram contained the deadliest of threats, but also the possibility of America joining the Allies.

Montgomery and de Grey took the partially deciphered telegram to Admiral Sir William Hall, Director of Naval Intelligence, expecting him to pa.s.s the information to the Americans, thereby drawing them into the war. However, Admiral Hall merely placed the partial decipherment in his safe, encouraging his crypta.n.a.lysts to continue filling in the gaps. He was reluctant to hand the Americans an incomplete decipherment, in case there was a vital caveat that had not yet been deciphered. He also had another concern lurking in the back of his mind. If the British gave the Americans the deciphered Zimmermann telegram, and the Americans reacted by publicly condemning Germany's proposed aggression, then the Germans would conclude that their method of encryption had been broken. This would goad them into developing a new and stronger encryption system, thus choking a vital channel of intelligence. In any case, Hall was aware that the all-out U-boat onslaught would begin in just two weeks, which in itself might be enough to incite President Wilson into declaring war on Germany. There was no point jeopardizing a valuable source of intelligence when the desired outcome might happen anyway. reacted by publicly condemning Germany's proposed aggression, then the Germans would conclude that their method of encryption had been broken. This would goad them into developing a new and stronger encryption system, thus choking a vital channel of intelligence. In any case, Hall was aware that the all-out U-boat onslaught would begin in just two weeks, which in itself might be enough to incite President Wilson into declaring war on Germany