Dear W.Bro. Kyeremanteng,
Last regular meeting you were no where to be found, I had a couple of questions for you. Oh,I just remembered that, the one before the recent meeting too, you were absent and the secretary like always, said "W.Bro. Kyeremanteng is unavoidably absent with an apology of ghc5". Do you know a secret?, I don't even know you.
Brother Mentor, are you sick abed? or you are the busiest person in this touch screen world?. In fact, I am covetous of your position, so much that, I wish to be given such an honourable office in the lodge and never show up. So that newly initiated Brethren will keep divagating from the mainstream Freemasonry. Afterall who will punish or hold me accountable for my rather worsening behaviour.
When I was an Entered Apprentice, I had so many questions about the order. They ranged from the many conspiracy theories I had read online prior to my entry to the inner workings of the initiation ceremony. Each time the question of why I had joined the fraternity came into mind, I answered myself in that unfaithful inner voice "because I want to be a better man". You also wanted to be a better man?, thats sweet, I guess you are now. Oh yes, I don't know you but I think you are the best man ever in the lodge. You alone, give alms in ghc5 note even in your somehow perpetual absenteeism.
Two weeks after my long and silent walk in the order, I had rigorous recourse to the same old map, which led me to those funny writings against the beautiful fraternity. I mean the internet. So even after my membership, I still relied on some uninitiated folks online, to teach and counsel me. One of them corrupted my interest and nearly took me out of the order. On other platforms where open discussions were held, I tried to antagonize their filthy points but I always lost the battle because I didn't even know who I was as a Mason. Those days, I too said, "to hell with Freemasonry" and then at the next turn "I want to be a better man too oo". So Bro. Mentor, you now have another view of why you remain my best man.
One day when I couldn't deceive myself anymore, I decided to talk to the secretary. I was surprised when he said it was your peculiar duty to educate me, answer all my questions and assist me in making daily advancement in masonic knowledge. Do you know I started taking pictures of you?, I saw you to be another masonic professor, I saw you to be the most disciplined Mason, I knew you were one to whom the Duke of Kent had bestowed such honour, well, if that picture still existed, I would have printed it out of my mind and better left it with the Temple care taker, his kids may need it.
Out of my own industry and of course, the assistance of some senior Brethren, I started seeing the light and keep searching for further lights.
But I have come to tell you that, two more Masons have been initiated and they don't even know the name of their lodge. Are you surprised?. Okay, in your reply state whether you are or not, so I can communicate to them your state, good works and excellence.
Let me quickly add that, a fellow craft before me, asked me many interesting questions, of them included; why we wore only black suit and white shirt and white gloves, why the lodge had a chequered floor and why etc.
I think am talking too much, as a last general information, am sure you are already aware three EAs have left the lodge, because they don't seem to duly appreciate the society they had become members through a long and tiring ceremony. The WM and other Senior Brethren were as busy as you, so no one could help them crawl in the light, they preferred running in their darkness than be left alone in a supposed light.
Before you make up your mind, let me advise you in my humble little self, never to send those ghc5 again, I think we don't need them more than you.
Fraternally Yours
Bro. Oppong Clifford Benjamin.
Excelsior Lodge No. 7670 EC.
#Cliffmasonicletters ---- are just open thought letters, not referring to anybody in particular but to address a general concern in Freemasonry lodges in Ghana.
Thursday, 21 August 2014
Tuesday, 12 August 2014
THE PLACE OF BROTHERHOOD IN FREEMASONRY
by W. Bro. JULIAN REES
In a fascinating essay written in 1896, the Freemason J.E. Thomas of South Africa wrote:
Brotherhood, the bonding between human beings, exists of course on different levels and in different spheres of human experience. In the profane world, brotherhood may be more often relied on in times of danger and distress than in the hour of ease and comfort. There is ample evidence of bonding between men on the field of battle, or between those caught up in a natural disaster. And after each of the world wars of the twentieth century, the numbers of lodges and consequently of Freemasons increased substantially, testament to the search for fraternal comradeship in their daily lives by men who had experienced it so dramatically in war. But the answer to Brother Thomas’ question above may be to say that masonic brotherhood transcends danger or necessity, and requires that we exercise the same selfless qualities towards our masonic Brethren in everyday life and in everyday situations. I should be towards my Brother such a mainstay that my own pillar of strength should mirror his own in any situation in life, whether that situation be a negative or a positive one. But I believe that, to practise true brotherhood masonically, it is a prerequisite that I first learn to practise it in respect of myself. Let me explain.
If I am to achieve the desired close bond of brotherhood with men and women of any group, it requires that I fully understand my Brethren. And to understand them, to know them, I first have to know myself, to achieve true gnosis as the Greeks call it, most accurately translated as the Act of Knowing. If I can come to truly know myself, and therefore to understand myself, with all my virtues, vices, merits and failings, then I can begin to validate myself, to acknowledge my uniqueness as a part of the Creation, a part of the Cosmos. Through this validation, I achieve some measure of self-esteem. This is neither pride nor prejudice; it is being still at my own centre, and knowing. ‘Man, know thyself, then thou shalt know the universe’ wrote Pythagoras. So it is with Brotherhood, since only at that centre of my own being will I be able to look outwards, and be able to esteem my Brother or Sister, to experience their humanity alongside my own.
In this context, it is also important to understand the principle of tolerance. In today’s world, in religion as in philosophy, what is true for me may not be that which is true for my Brother. The plumb-rule, one of the most important symbols in Freemasonry, denotes correctness on many levels, and through that it strives to denote that which is true. Truth however is elusive. What was shown to be scientifically true in previous centuries has been superseded by advances in scientific research, and is now no longer true. It was once deemed impossible for men to explore space. Advances in material science have superseded that. On the other hand, a mathematical equation formulated many hundreds of years ago is still true – one has only to think again of Pythagoras. Our task, as Brethren, is to achieve a ‘fusion point’, where the religious or philosophical truth held by my Brother, a truth mutable or immutable depending on the individual viewpoint, becomes united with that truth held by me. This has less to do with sacrificing my own strongly-held beliefs than with acknowledging the parallel truth of the belief held by my Brother. Correctness is transitory – truth ought to be absolute, and brotherhood rests on us being tolerant of many truths. When a person comes to a lodge for initiation, he is basically saying ‘I am going to be your Brother, and you will be my Brethren’, a commitment as basic and profound as any that can be made by a human being. It is the oneness extolled by Buddhism. But the tolerance required to do this to perfection is not a passive tolerance. We are required to practise tolerance actively, in making sure that the brotherhood is all-inclusive. In a lodge I visited there was a very disputatious Brother. One of the members expressed the view that this Brother had been sent to us, in order to test our tolerance.
Let me give you an example of how tolerance can be engendered by close companionship. There was an offensive confrontation some years ago in Belfast, in an area where a catholic school is situated in a predominantly protestant area. At that time, for the catholic mothers to take their children to school in the morning, they had to run a gauntlet of hostile protestants, shouting abuse and menacing them, adults and children alike, shameful behaviour by any standards. Some time later, a television company, in the ‘reality television’ now so popular, devised a programme in which adults from both sides of the sectarian divide in Belfast spent some time, outside Ireland, camping in a desolate and mountainous area, where they had to come to terms with their primitive surroundings. This environment required that they all worked together in some sort of harmony, without which their day-to-day endurance would not have been possible. The participants were obliged to cooperate in all their activities, simply to ensure survival. They were subjected to the severest tests of fortitude and inner strength. Among them were two mothers – one a parent of a child at that school, the other a mother who had shouted abuse. These two had come on the programme in ignorance of each other’s part in that episode, but as their relationship to each other slowly developed, they became aware of their previous confrontation, and began to learn to accommodate their differences. They had begun better to understand the sterile ‘blame culture’, that barren landscape lying between, and alienating them from, each other. Towards the end of the programme, these two women were teamed together in an abseiling exercise, the protestant woman suspended over a very frightening sheer rock-face, paralysed by fear. The catholic woman, her former antagonist, paid out the rope from the top and, to encourage the other, called out the words we all long to hear from time to time when we feel abandoned or helpless, the words which resonate to us from the memories of our mother in our childhood. ‘Trust me,’ she said, ‘I won’t let you fall’, among the most evocative words one human being can speak to another, spoken here by a woman to her former enemy. This was active tolerance at its best, in extreme circumstances.
Mutuality without tolerance is an unstable building. Mutuality requires not only physical closeness, but closeness of spirit, impossible if tolerance is missing. The verb ‘tolerate’ is of course latin in origin, meaning ‘bear’, ‘carry’ or ‘support’. This aspect of mutuality is illustrated by Laurence Dermott, the first Grand Secretary of the ‘Antients’ Grand Lodge, who wrote in his seminal work Ahiman Rezon
At the time when I was initiated into Freemasonry, it was commonplace for the senior members of the lodge to say, with a certain amount of self-importance, ‘When you have been in Freemasonry as long as I have, you will be qualified to express a view on it’. The implication was, that I should simply listen and learn, and not say too much. That is, of course, not a valid standpoint, however much humility is needed. There is a tendency in some masonic jurisdictions for masonic rank to play a large part in our activities. Grand Rank awarded as an active, administrative rank, awarded in respect of merit or achievement, is necessary and laudable, but the awarding of past ranks in profusion can only lead to corrosion of brotherhood. One younger Brother ironically described this aspect to me as ‘masonic graffiti’. The joy of hermetic thought was that the teacher taught, and the student in time became himself a teacher, qualified to teach others. This did not place him on a higher plane, and those who do so place themselves, are hindering themselves on their masonic journey, since the equality we experience as Brethren is what makes the journey possible.
In today’s world, I hope to learn from a new aspirant as much as, or more than, he may learn from me. It is true that I can instruct him in the form of ritual, allegory and symbol of which he may not yet be aware. But if I fail to take note of how he invests those forms with his own unique interpretation, I shall be the loser, and Freemasonry will lose not only its diversity, but its vitality as well. From this it follows that, as a member of my lodge, however ‘experienced’ I may be, I am dependant on the most newly-initiated Brother. This is true. If I claim, as some do, that I have nothing to learn from a new, ‘inexperienced’ Freemason, then I am making a grave mistake, for myself as well as for the Brotherhood.
But central to all of this is the notion that I must first attend to my own moral progress. A manuscript was discovered in 1696 in the Bodleian Library in Oxford, setting out the purported examination of a member of the masonic fraternity by King Henry VI:
Paradoxically, although the pursuit of self-knowledge and moral progress and development is an individual pursuit, to engage in it within a group such as a lodge or other masonic fraternity, increases its effectiveness, as though the force of the whole is greater than the sum of its several parts. It is as though each member of the group acts as a catalyst for the transforming power of Freemasonry for all of his Brethren. It is this that truly sets Freemasonry apart from other fraternal pursuits, and this is possibly the best answer to Brother Thomas’ quotation cited at the beginning.
If the pursuit of brotherhood with my Brethren requires first a pursuit of that brotherhood, that humanity, which is individual to me, then I need to look at that centre from which that humanity springs, the centre within myself. I am reminded that different jurisdictions in Freemasonry use different words for this centre, if not different concepts. For too long, the question of belief in a Supreme Being has tragically divided Freemasons, when it is indeed that essence which ought to unite. How does my new-made Brother view his own humanity and his place in the cosmos? In my own masonic jurisdiction, a belief in a Supreme Being is a sine qua non of membership, an immutable condition. An aspirant came before my lodge committee for interview, and was asked if he had such a belief. After a long pause, he said ‘It depends what you mean by “believe”’. He told me afterwards, without irony, that it was like asking if a wave believed in the sea. He regarded himself as a part of the Creation. How should he question, therefore, the very life-force of which he was himself a part?
I believe that, in this sense, Brethren from different jurisdictions, so-called believers and so-called unbelievers, might like to examine this question in a common discourse. We might like to consider whether it is simply language that divides us. Pierre Mollier, Grand Librarian of the Grand Orient of France, remembers a senior member of the Grand Orient saying to him, ‘Pour le Grand Orient, le vrai athéisme n’existe pas’, and if we can, collectively, come to acknowledge the spark of Being – divinity or humanity – within ourselves, we will already have made a great leap forward. Brotherhood, I believe, requires that, in the process of validating each other’s humanity in the way I have spoken about, we seek out that spark in our Brother which does make him unique and estimable.
We call ourselves Free-Masons. In the same way that we need air to breathe, we need to be free, and that freedom exists, for Freemasons, on so many levels. It can be freedom of conscience, freedom of thought, freedom from dogma, freedom of positive purpose, freedom of speech, freedom from political or ideological coercion. I believe there is another freedom, perhaps the most important of them all, and that is, the freedom to serve our Brethren. According to tradition, there was supposed to be an inscription on the Round Table of King Arthur which read:
In seeking to serve others, we become free.
In a fascinating essay written in 1896, the Freemason J.E. Thomas of South Africa wrote:
To assist in the ceremonial duties
of the Lodge without seeking
to unfold the symbolism, is to remain satisfied with the externals
only, those husks which envelope and protect the grain.
Our quest
is to ascertain the internal truths of which symbolism is but the
index. For instance, to what extent are the fraternal relations
between my fellow Freemasons and myself different to those which
I hold with my neighbours and friends?
With these words, the author places brotherhood firmly at the centre,
both of our masonic existence, and of our initiatic quest.Brotherhood, the bonding between human beings, exists of course on different levels and in different spheres of human experience. In the profane world, brotherhood may be more often relied on in times of danger and distress than in the hour of ease and comfort. There is ample evidence of bonding between men on the field of battle, or between those caught up in a natural disaster. And after each of the world wars of the twentieth century, the numbers of lodges and consequently of Freemasons increased substantially, testament to the search for fraternal comradeship in their daily lives by men who had experienced it so dramatically in war. But the answer to Brother Thomas’ question above may be to say that masonic brotherhood transcends danger or necessity, and requires that we exercise the same selfless qualities towards our masonic Brethren in everyday life and in everyday situations. I should be towards my Brother such a mainstay that my own pillar of strength should mirror his own in any situation in life, whether that situation be a negative or a positive one. But I believe that, to practise true brotherhood masonically, it is a prerequisite that I first learn to practise it in respect of myself. Let me explain.
If I am to achieve the desired close bond of brotherhood with men and women of any group, it requires that I fully understand my Brethren. And to understand them, to know them, I first have to know myself, to achieve true gnosis as the Greeks call it, most accurately translated as the Act of Knowing. If I can come to truly know myself, and therefore to understand myself, with all my virtues, vices, merits and failings, then I can begin to validate myself, to acknowledge my uniqueness as a part of the Creation, a part of the Cosmos. Through this validation, I achieve some measure of self-esteem. This is neither pride nor prejudice; it is being still at my own centre, and knowing. ‘Man, know thyself, then thou shalt know the universe’ wrote Pythagoras. So it is with Brotherhood, since only at that centre of my own being will I be able to look outwards, and be able to esteem my Brother or Sister, to experience their humanity alongside my own.
In this context, it is also important to understand the principle of tolerance. In today’s world, in religion as in philosophy, what is true for me may not be that which is true for my Brother. The plumb-rule, one of the most important symbols in Freemasonry, denotes correctness on many levels, and through that it strives to denote that which is true. Truth however is elusive. What was shown to be scientifically true in previous centuries has been superseded by advances in scientific research, and is now no longer true. It was once deemed impossible for men to explore space. Advances in material science have superseded that. On the other hand, a mathematical equation formulated many hundreds of years ago is still true – one has only to think again of Pythagoras. Our task, as Brethren, is to achieve a ‘fusion point’, where the religious or philosophical truth held by my Brother, a truth mutable or immutable depending on the individual viewpoint, becomes united with that truth held by me. This has less to do with sacrificing my own strongly-held beliefs than with acknowledging the parallel truth of the belief held by my Brother. Correctness is transitory – truth ought to be absolute, and brotherhood rests on us being tolerant of many truths. When a person comes to a lodge for initiation, he is basically saying ‘I am going to be your Brother, and you will be my Brethren’, a commitment as basic and profound as any that can be made by a human being. It is the oneness extolled by Buddhism. But the tolerance required to do this to perfection is not a passive tolerance. We are required to practise tolerance actively, in making sure that the brotherhood is all-inclusive. In a lodge I visited there was a very disputatious Brother. One of the members expressed the view that this Brother had been sent to us, in order to test our tolerance.
Let me give you an example of how tolerance can be engendered by close companionship. There was an offensive confrontation some years ago in Belfast, in an area where a catholic school is situated in a predominantly protestant area. At that time, for the catholic mothers to take their children to school in the morning, they had to run a gauntlet of hostile protestants, shouting abuse and menacing them, adults and children alike, shameful behaviour by any standards. Some time later, a television company, in the ‘reality television’ now so popular, devised a programme in which adults from both sides of the sectarian divide in Belfast spent some time, outside Ireland, camping in a desolate and mountainous area, where they had to come to terms with their primitive surroundings. This environment required that they all worked together in some sort of harmony, without which their day-to-day endurance would not have been possible. The participants were obliged to cooperate in all their activities, simply to ensure survival. They were subjected to the severest tests of fortitude and inner strength. Among them were two mothers – one a parent of a child at that school, the other a mother who had shouted abuse. These two had come on the programme in ignorance of each other’s part in that episode, but as their relationship to each other slowly developed, they became aware of their previous confrontation, and began to learn to accommodate their differences. They had begun better to understand the sterile ‘blame culture’, that barren landscape lying between, and alienating them from, each other. Towards the end of the programme, these two women were teamed together in an abseiling exercise, the protestant woman suspended over a very frightening sheer rock-face, paralysed by fear. The catholic woman, her former antagonist, paid out the rope from the top and, to encourage the other, called out the words we all long to hear from time to time when we feel abandoned or helpless, the words which resonate to us from the memories of our mother in our childhood. ‘Trust me,’ she said, ‘I won’t let you fall’, among the most evocative words one human being can speak to another, spoken here by a woman to her former enemy. This was active tolerance at its best, in extreme circumstances.
Mutuality without tolerance is an unstable building. Mutuality requires not only physical closeness, but closeness of spirit, impossible if tolerance is missing. The verb ‘tolerate’ is of course latin in origin, meaning ‘bear’, ‘carry’ or ‘support’. This aspect of mutuality is illustrated by Laurence Dermott, the first Grand Secretary of the ‘Antients’ Grand Lodge, who wrote in his seminal work Ahiman Rezon
For human society cannot subsist
without concord, and the
maintenance of good offices; for, like the working of an arch
of stone, it would fall to the ground provided one piece did
not properly support another.
The integrity of such an arch is often said to depend on the keystone,
but in fact its integrity depends on every stone, the smallest and the
newest, together with the largest and the most important.
It is of course in this respect like a chain, whose efficacy depends on every
constituent link, and not only those links perceived as the strongest or most
important. This is what we mean
when we speak of equality among Brethren.At the time when I was initiated into Freemasonry, it was commonplace for the senior members of the lodge to say, with a certain amount of self-importance, ‘When you have been in Freemasonry as long as I have, you will be qualified to express a view on it’. The implication was, that I should simply listen and learn, and not say too much. That is, of course, not a valid standpoint, however much humility is needed. There is a tendency in some masonic jurisdictions for masonic rank to play a large part in our activities. Grand Rank awarded as an active, administrative rank, awarded in respect of merit or achievement, is necessary and laudable, but the awarding of past ranks in profusion can only lead to corrosion of brotherhood. One younger Brother ironically described this aspect to me as ‘masonic graffiti’. The joy of hermetic thought was that the teacher taught, and the student in time became himself a teacher, qualified to teach others. This did not place him on a higher plane, and those who do so place themselves, are hindering themselves on their masonic journey, since the equality we experience as Brethren is what makes the journey possible.
In today’s world, I hope to learn from a new aspirant as much as, or more than, he may learn from me. It is true that I can instruct him in the form of ritual, allegory and symbol of which he may not yet be aware. But if I fail to take note of how he invests those forms with his own unique interpretation, I shall be the loser, and Freemasonry will lose not only its diversity, but its vitality as well. From this it follows that, as a member of my lodge, however ‘experienced’ I may be, I am dependant on the most newly-initiated Brother. This is true. If I claim, as some do, that I have nothing to learn from a new, ‘inexperienced’ Freemason, then I am making a grave mistake, for myself as well as for the Brotherhood.
But central to all of this is the notion that I must first attend to my own moral progress. A manuscript was discovered in 1696 in the Bodleian Library in Oxford, setting out the purported examination of a member of the masonic fraternity by King Henry VI:
Do Masons love one another mightily
as is said?
Yes, verily; and that cannot be otherwise, for the better men are,
the more they love one another.
And can we come nearer to understanding the nature of this brotherly
love? Many masonic jurisdictions
world wide lay great stress on the practice of charity to those in need, a
charity which most often expresses itself by financial assistance.
In those jurisdictions Freemasons of course also support those of their
own members who need assistance, often believing that the exercise of brotherly
love requires no more. The
brotherhood of Freemasons, to be perfectively effective, does require more.
It requires the seizing, daily, of opportunities to cultivate a spirit of
true brotherhood in those ways that do not involve financial assistance, by
lightening a Brother’s burden, by gladdening his heart, by gentle words of
encouragement.Paradoxically, although the pursuit of self-knowledge and moral progress and development is an individual pursuit, to engage in it within a group such as a lodge or other masonic fraternity, increases its effectiveness, as though the force of the whole is greater than the sum of its several parts. It is as though each member of the group acts as a catalyst for the transforming power of Freemasonry for all of his Brethren. It is this that truly sets Freemasonry apart from other fraternal pursuits, and this is possibly the best answer to Brother Thomas’ quotation cited at the beginning.
If the pursuit of brotherhood with my Brethren requires first a pursuit of that brotherhood, that humanity, which is individual to me, then I need to look at that centre from which that humanity springs, the centre within myself. I am reminded that different jurisdictions in Freemasonry use different words for this centre, if not different concepts. For too long, the question of belief in a Supreme Being has tragically divided Freemasons, when it is indeed that essence which ought to unite. How does my new-made Brother view his own humanity and his place in the cosmos? In my own masonic jurisdiction, a belief in a Supreme Being is a sine qua non of membership, an immutable condition. An aspirant came before my lodge committee for interview, and was asked if he had such a belief. After a long pause, he said ‘It depends what you mean by “believe”’. He told me afterwards, without irony, that it was like asking if a wave believed in the sea. He regarded himself as a part of the Creation. How should he question, therefore, the very life-force of which he was himself a part?
I believe that, in this sense, Brethren from different jurisdictions, so-called believers and so-called unbelievers, might like to examine this question in a common discourse. We might like to consider whether it is simply language that divides us. Pierre Mollier, Grand Librarian of the Grand Orient of France, remembers a senior member of the Grand Orient saying to him, ‘Pour le Grand Orient, le vrai athéisme n’existe pas’, and if we can, collectively, come to acknowledge the spark of Being – divinity or humanity – within ourselves, we will already have made a great leap forward. Brotherhood, I believe, requires that, in the process of validating each other’s humanity in the way I have spoken about, we seek out that spark in our Brother which does make him unique and estimable.
We call ourselves Free-Masons. In the same way that we need air to breathe, we need to be free, and that freedom exists, for Freemasons, on so many levels. It can be freedom of conscience, freedom of thought, freedom from dogma, freedom of positive purpose, freedom of speech, freedom from political or ideological coercion. I believe there is another freedom, perhaps the most important of them all, and that is, the freedom to serve our Brethren. According to tradition, there was supposed to be an inscription on the Round Table of King Arthur which read:
In seeking to serve others, we become free.
THE EARLIEST USE OF THE WORD 'FREEMASONS'
by Dr ANDREW PRESCOTT |
---|
First published in the Yearbook of the Grand Lodge of Scotland, 2004. |
It
has hitherto been thought that the earliest appearance of the English word
‘freemason’ was in 1376. At the symposium organised by Lodge Hope of
Kurrachee No. 337 at Kirkcaldy in May 2003, Professor Andrew Prescott, Director
of the Centre for Research into Freemasonry, University of Sheffield, drew
attention to some earlier records of the word. This is the relevant section of
his address at Kirkcaldy.
It
is commonly assumed that the stonemasons of the middle ages are obscure,
anonymous people who have escaped the historical record, but medieval
administrative records, such as building accounts, contain an enormous amount of
information about stonemasons and their craft. For example, the journal of the
clerk of the works at Eton for 1444-5 records the name of every stonemason,
carpenter, dauber, smith and labourer employed on the works, and gives details
of the hours worked by each man. These records are usually in Latin or French.
The general Latin terms used for stonemasons were cementarius or lathomus.
The French word masoun, usually spelt mazon, first appears in the
twelfth century. There were many different grades and specialisms among the
stonemasons, and these were described either by qualifying the general word for
stonemason, so that the Eton records refer to lathomos vocati hardehewers (the
stonemasons known as hardhewers), or by the use of specialist words, such as the
Latin cubitores for cutters or imaginatores for image makers.
The
freemasons were such a specialist grade of stonemason, who specialised in the
carving of freestone, which was, in the words of Douglas Knoop and Gwilym Jones,
‘the name given to any fine-grained sandstone or limestone that can be freely
worked in any direction and sawn with a toothed saw’. Freestone was used for
the decoration of capitals and cornices, the cutting of tracery, and the carving
of images and gargoyles. The London Assize of Wages of 1212 refers in Latin to sculptores
lapidum liberorum (sculptors of freestone). The Statute of Labourers of
1351, which attempted to regulate wages and contracts in the wake of the labour
shortage caused by the Black Death, uses an equivalent French term: mestre
meson de franche peer (master mason of freestone). Freemasons as a distinct
grade of stonemasons can thus be traced back to the early thirteenth century,
but for today’s Free and Accepted Masons, there is naturally a particular
interest in trying to locate the first appearance of the word ‘freemason’ in
English.
In
1376, John of Northampton was elected Mayor of London. Northampton was
determined to break the hold of the existing merchant oligarchy on London’s
government and to give less wealthy citizens a greater voice in the city’s
affairs. One means by which he sought to do this was by changing the method of
electing the city’s common council. It was ordained the councillors should
henceforth be nominated by particular trades in the city rather than by wards.
The nominations made by the various crafts to the common council in 1376 are
recorded in two of the city’s official records, the Plea and Memoranda Rolls
and the London Letter Books (the relevant volume is the one designated by the
letter ‘H’). Four representatives of the stonemasons were nominated to the
common council: Thomas Wrek, John Lesnes, John Artelburgh and Robert Henwick. In
the Plea and Memoranda Roll, they are described as ‘masons’. In the Letter
Book they were at first described as ‘freemasons’, but this word has been
struck through by the scribe and replaced with the word ‘masons’. This has
hitherto been the earliest identified appearance of the word in English.
Probably the alteration was the result of scribal error, but in the politically
charged atmosphere of Northampton’s mayoralty the change may have been more
significant, perhaps suggesting that the representatives were originally been
drawn from a particular group of stonemasons.
However,
the word ‘freemason’ also appears in the records of the Corporation of
London much earlier in the fourteenth century. The coroners’ rolls of the city
contain an account of an escape from Newgate prison in 1325. This is summarised
in the Calendar of the Coroners’ Rolls of the City of London, 1300-1378,
edited by Reginald Sharpe and published in 1913 (pp. 130-1). The coroner and
sheriffs of the city held an inquiry into the gaol break. Jurors from the wards
of Farringdon, Castle Baynard, Bread Street and Aldgate, stated that on 8
September 1325, at about midnight, Adam Nouneman of Hockcliffe in Bedfordshire,
John Gommere, Robert de Molseleye, John de Elme, Alan Mariot and John de Parys,
Stephen de Keleseye, William le Soutere, Walter, son of Beatrice Gomme, and John
Bedewynde escaped through a hole in the western wall of Newgate prison. Some of
the prisoners were recaptured, but others sought sanctuary in the churches of St
Sepulchre’s church near Newgate and St Bride’s in Fleet Street. The jurors
also declared that the escaped prisoners were assisted by various men,
presumably also at that prisoners in Newgate. Those who abetted the escape were
said to have included one Nicholas le Freemason. Convicted criminals were at
that time allowed to escape punishment provided they agreed to leave the kingdom
and live abroad. Four of those involved in this prison escape duly left the
country from Dover and Southampton, but there is no record of what happened to
Nicholas le Freemason.
We
cannot by any means be sure that this is the earliest appearance of the English
word ‘freemason’. The word almost certainly appears somewhere else, hidden
away in the great mass of unpublished medieval administrative records which
remain largely unexplored by masonic scholars. Moreover, Nicholas’s name may
represent a French form of the word ‘freemason’, and this illustrates the
difficulty in firmly identifying the earliest English use of the word. We are on
slightly firmer ground with literary texts, and at least one medieval English
poem dating from before 1376 contains the word ‘freemason’.
The
romance Floris and Blancheflour is in Middle English, but was probably
adapted from a French original sometime between 1250 and 1300. It is a good
example of the kind of literary entertainment which was extremely popular among
well-off people in medieval England. A Christian lady was captured by the
Saracens in Spain who made her a lady-in-waiting to their queen. The Queen and
the lady-in-waiting both have babies on the same day. The Saracen queen has a
boy named Floris (flower) and the Christian lady a girl named Blancheflour (white
flower). The children were brought
up together, but the King, disturbed by their love for one another, decided that
they should be separated. Blancheflour was sold as a slave, and was bought by an
emir in Babylon who intended to marry her. Floris travels to Babylon to seek his
love. Arriving at Babylon, Floris is told by Daris, the keeper of the bridge
into the city, that Blauncheflour is kept in a high tower in the city, and that
the emir would soon claim her as a wife. Daris describes the tower as follows
(the following modern version of the text is by Professor Peter Baker of the
University of Virginia):
It
is a hundred fathoms high; whoever beholds it from far or near can see that it
is a hundred fathoms altogether. Without an equal, it is made of limestone and
marble; there’s not another such place in all the world. The mortar is made so
well that neither iron nor steel can break it. The finial placed above is made
with such pride that one has no need to burn a torch or lantern in the tower:
the finial that was set there shines at night like the sun. Now there are forty
two noble bowers in that tower; the man who could dwell in one of them would be
happy, for he would never need to long for greater bliss.
Floris
is perplexed and distressed, and begs Daris for advice as to how he can reach
Blauncheflour in the impentrable tower. Daris is ready with a plan:
Dear
son, you have done well to place your trust in me. The best advice I know –
and I know no other advice – is to go to the tower tomorrow as if you were a
good craftsman. Take the square and measure in
your hand as if you were a freemason (‘Take
on þy honde squyer and scantlon, As þow were a free mason’). Look up and
down the tower. The porter is cruel and villainous; he’ll come to you
immediately and ask what kind of man you are and accuse you of some crime,
claiming you to be a spy. And you will answer sweetly and mildly and say to him
that you are a craftsman come to look at the beautiful tower, meaning to make
one like it in your land.
The
scheme works, and Floris and Blauncheflour are reunited. After many further
trials and tribulations, in which the couple are threatened with beheading and
death by fire, there is the inevitable happy ending, with the couple marrying
and Blauncheflour becoming Floris’s queen after the death of his father.
Thus
Floris and Blancheflour contains an English reference to a freemason
which apparently dates from the late thirteenth century. Inevitably, however,
the textual situation is more complicated than it appears at first sight, and
the word freemason may perhaps have been added to the poem sometime during the
fourteenth century. One of the earliest surviving copies of this poem is in the
Auchinleck manuscript, one of the great treasures of the National Library of
Scotland (a digital facsimile and edition of which is now available on the
National Library’s website). The Auchinleck manuscript dates from the 1330s.
In this copy of Floris and Blancheflour, the word mason is used rather
than freemason:
And
nim in þin hond squir and scantiloun
Als
þai þou were a masoun;
The
most complete copy of the poem is in British Library, Egerton MS. 2862, a
manuscript which previously belonged to George Granville Leveson Gower, 2nd
Duke of Sutherland and dates
from the late fourteenth century. Here the word ‘free mason’ is used, rather
than mason. This suggests that the term freemason did not appear in the
thirteenth century text of Floris and Blauncheflour, but was only
inserted in the poem sometime after 1330. In order to establish the exact
circumstances of the appearance of the word ‘freemason’ in Floris and
Blauncheflour, further investigation of the textual and manuscript
traditions of this poem is necessary.
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