Red Knee …. Itsy, Bitsy Spider

By Kenneth Andrew Bauman

Author Kenneth Andrew Bauman takes on a journey of discovery that appears to be a
solution to the Beale Treasure story and more. This information may change the way one views
the Beale Treasure. The story begins with the inheritance of a strange sword.

In Red Knee….itsy, bitsy Spider, Kenneth Andrew Bauman leads his readers on a ''history
highway'' leading to a suspected national treasure hidden originally by privateer Captain John
MacPherson and Benjamin Franklin in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

''Literary steganography,'' or what is secret writing, is introduced through an involved
research project that identifies a hidden Edgar Allan Poe missive and a solution to two
mysteries: the Beale Papers treasure location (other than the Virginia hills) and the suggestion
that Sir Francis Bacon (and others) authored the Sonnets attributed to Shakespeare, as they
contain hidden literary steganography narrative.

Kenneth Andrew Bauman's Red Knee….itsy, bitsy Spider contains exhaustive research
on the complexity of cryptography & steganography and reveals explosive historical national
secrets that, deemed credible, will turn history around. The poetry contained in Red Knee….itsy,
bitsy Spider very well may soothe the mind. Enter into an enthusiastic journey of discovery and
meet Mr. LeGrand!

In Red Knee. itsy, bitsy Spider, Kenneth Andrew Bauman introduces his readers to the
mysterious Mr. LeGrand, who comes from a strange country and possesses a special insight
into the power of words.

Mr. LeGrand has escaped from the land known as Allied Zombies United, or AZU, where
the culture has been compromised by an evil influence. But Mr. LeGrand has retained his belief
that knowledge is power, as symbolized by the Sword of Power. Mr. LeGrand is able to unlock
the hidden meaning of words and explains steganography, that of which Edgar Allan Poe was
masterful.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 21, 2022
• ISBN: 9781669821649

Book preview

Copyright © 2022 by Kenneth Andrew Bauman.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 04/19/2022

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

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Dedicated to my beautiful wife, Sherrie, and children, who have been oh so tolerant of this extensive and lengthy research project, and to my friends, both living and otherwise, who have been so giving and supportive.

CONTENTS

PART 1: THE COURT OF ORGANON

Steganograms Everywhere!

PART 2: THE BEALE PAPERS

Ere Fen Due Red Knee

PART 3: A CONCLUSIVE RECAP

PART 4: POETRY

The Court Of Organon

Steganograms Everywhere!

PART ONE

The Court of Organon

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T he story I am about to impart is true. The events actually happened over a period of about thirty years from beginning to the present day (2006). The year was 1976. I was sixteen years old, a typical teenage boy enjoying summer break from school, long haired and very observant. My life’s dream was to be a police officer.

The day was sultry. I tried to stay cool in the house I grew up in. We lived in Auburn, Indiana, a nice town. Watching TV, I fiddled with the new camera I recently had enough money to purchase. It was a Minolta SRT 201 35 mm single lens reflex camera. To me, it was technical, complicated, fun, and interesting! Letting the TV on, I went outside and found a sunflower that had a green bee near its center. I took my very first picture and then another up close. I then had a desire to go to the attic to search through my keepsakes. The attic was stifling hot; I couldn’t stay up there long. Diverted from my keepsake box, I saw an old black steamer trunk. Opening it, I observed a single item at the bottom of the old container; the aged relic was a sword in its scabbard. I plucked the sword from the trunk and went back to watch the TV while holding my newfound treasure. Just then, on the TV, the tube showed a multicolored tarantula being the Mexican Redknee variety. The spider was on a blue background and severely struck my sensibility. I took a picture of the ominous spider.

The sword was given to me by my parents, and I kept it safe in my desk drawer for years after. The sword in the trunk was sent to Auburn from Bethlehem, Pennsylvania. It had belonged to my Grandfather Hentschel. That summer of 1976, my family went to New Hyde Park, New York, to visit my Stepgrandmother Hentschel and her brother Edward Nungesser. From Grandpa’s household, Edward gave me a unique coin. It was sliced in half; between the halves were pinned a blade, a scissor, and a nail file that all folded into the coin halves. Not unlike a jackknife. I brought this relic, dated 1871, home and placed it in my desk.

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The year is 1994. I am thirty-three years old, all grown up with a beautiful wife of seven years. We are raising three girls and a boy. Life is busy. I have been all over the world in the military. Police work has been my career now for fifteen years. Life is stressful; raising a family is stressful. But I wouldn’t pass it up for the world.

Spring had sprung as I sat at my desk doing household bills. A gentle breeze billowed through the curtains of the open window. The day was fine as the sun baked the tattered carpet of our small mobile home. Pondering in reverie, I had the urge to look at the sword in the drawer of my desk. It reposed in the same location as I had placed it many years before. The whole sword (and scabbard) was black as a unit and the blade a splotched and streaked mess; the discoloration appeared to be dried, old blood. The leather of the scabbard was arid; cracked and crumbly was its texture. I again placed the sword into the desk drawer.

I was never much of a reader; little in print really captured my interest. I hadn’t thought of reading much, only what I had to. My Father and Mother frequently encouraged me to read. There was a period as a boy when I read the Hardy Boys mystery series with great interest. But working at the desk on household issues was my life in 1994. Once again, I took the sword from the desk drawer. I began to scrutinize the relic.

When was it made? Who used it? Who? What? Where? When? How? Yes, how? How was it that this sword was capturing my attention? I became excited all of a sudden! Was the handle of this sword really just black? With my handkerchief, I rubbed the hilt to try and clean the dark color off. I rubbed hard. Nothing but black remained, and I lost interest. Back to the desk drawer the sword went. I felt disappointment to an unusual degree.

Interest piqued, again I went to the desk drawer, grabbed the sword, and took it to the kitchen table. There I applied a Brillo pad to the hilt and scrubbed somewhat lightly so as not to mar the surface; I used great caution. The black remained! Back to the desk drawer the sword went. Again, much disappointment.

Some inner force just wouldn’t let me give up the task of cleaning the blackness from the hilt; it was as if an unexplainable force beckoned me to that sword! Persistence and epic tenacity are qualities I’ve pursued in law enforcement work, and without exception, going to the hardware store for metal polish was to display these traits. I just wouldn’t give up.

To my great surprise, the can of Tarnite metal polish featured on its yellow can a knight wielding in his right hand a sword displayed upright. The hilt of his sword was yellow! Once again, I was excited. Could metal polish be the answer?

Rushing into the house past the billowing curtains to the kitchen table, I placed the sword, Brillo, and Tarnite down and thought nervously about what I was about to do. Would this metal polish ruin the hilt? As my wife curiously watched me, I took a chance and rubbed the white ammonia-based liquid into the blackness with the Brillo pad. The smell was pungent. I would never forget that smell on that warm, breezy, and beautiful sunlit day. I rubbed, continuously applying the Tarnite sparingly . . . There it was . . . the yellow color. A small dot of yellow peeked through the blackness. With widened eyes and eager enthusiasm, I applied more Tarnite and rubbed and rubbed with the Brillo. I felt as though I had struck gold as I slowly began to realize this hilt of pure yellow. The hilt appeared to be solid gold!

Soon the tip and throat of the scabbard were cleaned to shiny yellow as well. What a beautiful sight. The view severely struck my sensibility! On top of this, the newly cleaned hilt sported three symbols: a crown on one side, the letters MA in an oval cartouche on the other side, and the number one on the inside of the hilt by the blade base. These marks were not entirely visible to the naked eye before the cleaning. The throat and tip of the scabbard were also marked with the letters MA in the oval cartouche.

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I had a grand mystery on my hands. Where did this sword come from, what country, what army? What did these symbols mean? I would realize that, after having completed about four years of work on the sword project, the cleaning process thrust me into the enormous task of identifying the sword. It would be in 1997 that the sword was identified as an Italian infantry pattern of 1843. However, because certain marks were not present on the sword being investigated, it was suspected to a great degree that what I possessed was a predecessor model or the actual pattern sword used to create the Italian infantry pattern of 1843. This pattern of 1843 was used during the unification of Italy in 1861.

During the period of sword identification, in 1995, I recovered the unique coin from my desk and noted that it too had heavy blackening. The coin cleaned up nicely with metal polish, exposing obviously silver obverse and reverse sides with a clear hint of gold peeking through the silver due apparently to the polishing of the coin. Again, to describe the coin, the halves sandwiched in between them a knife mechanism suspended by two transverse bars (pins) in holes drilled through the coin. When the blade, scissors, and nail file were extended to full out position, the mechanism looked like or personified the scarab (or scarabaeus) in flight with its extended wing like elytra. The coin was so unique that it even seemed to be a fetish. Because the coin and sword were blackened (a process accomplished for funerals in olden days) and the coin dated 1871, my intuition wrestled with the idea that the coin and sword had some connection in history past.

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Mysteriously, after a long period of search (for sword identification prior to 1997), I ran across a newspaper photo of a female honor graduate of the United States Military Academy (USMA) at West Point, New York. Interestingly, she had a sword on her side with a hilt that finally appeared to be similar to the sword subject of this investigation. Throughout 1996, I studied the USMA through books and correspondence with personnel in the archives section of the USMA library. This correspondence can be viewed from the project files. The sword of investigation (SOI) appeared to have patterned the second pattern of the USMA cadet sword produced in early 1872 for the academy cadets. The outline of this cadet pattern was very similar to the SOI. A painting which hangs at the fourth-floor archives of the library is interesting in that it is a picture of Jonathan Williams, the first superintendent of the USMA. In this picture is a sword that generally appears similar to the SOI. The sword length (short), scabbard, and hilt appear similar. The picture of this painting exists in project files.

Benjamin Franklin is a Great Uncle to the man in the painting, the Brevet General Jonathan Williams. Marks on the SOI correspond to Franklin’s three master’s (MA) degrees and his appointment by the Crown as Postmaster General of America in 1753. The SOI could have been passed to General Williams by Benjamin Franklin for use at West Point USMA. Franklin wrote his last letter to Thomas Jefferson recommending Williams for the job at West Point as first superintendent. Benjamin Franklin is the