‘Reclaiming a Revolutionary Brother’s reputation’

Thursday, at last, was the long-awaited joint meeting of West Point Lodge 877 and The American Lodge of Research. The former, naturally, is a historic Masonic lodge, and the latter, of course, a lodge that studies Masonic history.

The two also have an ethereal link that occurs to me. West Point was set to labor Under Dispensation by Grand Lodge in 1909, and that was the year when the first rumblings (or at least the first I can pinpoint) of establishing a lodge of Masonic research and education were heard. It took only 113 years for the two to get together.

And it was worth the wait. We enjoyed two presentations. First, Worshipful Master Conor of The ALR did what he does best and treated us to biography-history of one of his ancestor lodge brothers. William Malcom (1745-91) was a Scots-born hero of the American Revolution who held memberships in a few lodges and was Master of St. John’s Lodge 2 (now No. 1) in New York in 1783.

In “The Misunderstood Mr. Malcom,” Conor aims to “do a solid” for the under appreciated warrior, business success, and Freemason by explaining how he came to be shunted unjustly by historians. That reasoning is two-fold, being based on a pair of letters that, interpreted outside context, could cleave Malcom from the pantheon of Revolutionary immortals despite his distinguished service among them. Conor’s paper corrects the record.

This paper will appear in our upcoming book of transactions (I’m working on it!), which will go to our members in early ’23.

W. Conor commissioned a portrait of Malcom from Bro. Travis Simpkins, who obliged with his usual excellence. The art, duly matted and framed, was presented to West Point Lodge where it hopefully will join the impressive menagerie of historical items displayed about the lodge building.

Here, I’ll just sketch the highlights of this presentation. Malcom, even setting aside his military career, was a very interesting man who accomplished much before his death at age forty-six. He emigrated to British North America, arriving in New York at eighteen. His father was a baron in the old country, so Malcom was no hungry urchin seeking any employment upon arrival. He became an importer/exporter headquartered on what we today know as Pearl Street, and he ingratiated himself into New York society quickly. This included membership in Union Lodge, where he served as Worshipful Master in 1767 (if I got that right). That is a significant date in New York Masonic history, being the year when the Rite of Perfection’s Lodge of Perfection was established at Albany. And Malcom, Conor explains, had business connections who were central to that group.

Malcom had other impressive networks. By marriage, he was related to George Washington and Alexander Hamilton. (I think it’s largely true that in early America people of a certain strata knew each other, if they weren’t actually related. It was a small place of few people.)

Malcom’s politics when Revolution erupted placed him squarely among the Patriots, but New York was not a safe place to be a Patriot. As a member of St. John’s 2, he was among neutral and Loyalist lodge brethren, and, as an importer/exporter, he surely was at some risk, especially when the British invaded and seized the city in 1776.

During the war, Malcom held high rank, spent his own money to equip his unprepared troops, organized a network of spies, and was in proximity to two officers who would proceed to ignominy: Benedict Arnold and Aaron Burr. In the former’s case, Malcom was sent to West Point to complete construction of fortifications that went neglected by Arnold, who at that time was plotting to hand over the fort to the British. I don’t think it is known whether Malcom was suspicious of Arnold, but he didn’t fail to see something there was not right. And Burr? He was Malcom’s second in command for a time, an eventuality that would factor into one of the aforementioned letters that diminish Malcom’s war service.

But back to Freemasonry: While Malcom was stationed at West Point, St. John’s Lodge 2 happened to have been nearby in Fishkill. Seventy-eight American soldiers, if I remember correctly, signed the lodge’s book of bylaws at that time. The end of the war and the formation of the Grand Lodge of New York were somewhat concurrent. While we may assign a date for the end of British military activity in New York at Evacuation Day (November 25, 1783), the organization of amorphous Freemasonry into what we today understand as a grand lodge remains hard to explain, as far as I’m concerned.

Sir John Johnson was, nominally at least, the Provincial Grand Master in New York, but his side lost the war and he skedaddled to Canada. Malcom was named to the committee that would form our Grand Lodge of New York.

Malcom remained engaged in the military after the war, being appointed to head the militia in points around New York City. He was elected to political office, a natural fit for many heroes of the Revolution, and he was welcomed into the Society of the Cincinnati in New Jersey, despite not having resided there. (He did serve in the battles at Trenton and Princeton.) As head of the militia, he commanded the military escort of George Washington to his first presidential inauguration at Wall Street in 1789. His funeral in 1791 was accompanied by military and Masonic honors.

About those two letters: A 1778 communiqué from Washington, in reply to a note from Malcom, states the commanding general was displeased at that time with Malcom and would not stop him from exiting the service if he desired to leave. Not a good look for a notable officer in wartime. The other letter is from 1814 and was sent by Malcom to the New York legislature lobbying for financial compensation for Aaron Burr. Burr, of course, had killed Hamilton in their duel a decade earlier, so, again, not a good look.

Worshipful Master Tom Horn, right, accepts the Malcom
portrait from W. Bro. Conor of The ALR.

The next presentation to the two lodges was delivered by Bro. Bob McLoughlin, who told us about “Free and Accepted Masons, Family Legacies, and the Hudson Valley.” Unfortunately, the hour was late and Bob had to zip through what appeared to be a detailed tour of the local area with many stops where Masons through history left their marks by building infrastructure, much of which remains in use.

The gist of his talk, I’ll say, was graduates of the U.S. Military Academy, a significant number of whom were initiated into our fraternity in this lodge (did I mention West Point is, figuratively speaking, a grenade’s throw from the lodge?), took their engineering knowhow around the world. Literally. From the campus of the Academy to Central Park (pre-Olmsted) to the Canal Zone and points everywhere, they brought forth order from chaos.

I’m sorry to shortchange his compelling research, but it passed by my eyes and ears quickly and, not being versed in the subject myself, it all was a blur. My notes aren’t that helpful. I think Bob said this talk can be found on Craftsmen Online, but I’m not seeing it and can’t provide the link.

This World War II era poster was added recently to the lodge’s decor by a Past Master who acquired it through an auction. By weird coincidence, the December trestleboard message from the Master of New Jersey Lodge of Masonic Research and Education 1786 focuses directly on the Masonic War Chest and includes an image of the poster.

As always, any errors or omissions in the above are attributable to me and not to the speakers.

In lodge business, The ALR elected three to Active Membership, including Bro. Erich, who we at New Jersey’s research lodge have shanghaied into the secretary’s chair. (Or at least we will at our installation this Saturday.) (Don’t tell him.) And we had an introductory reading of several much needed bylaws amendments that will be brought to a vote at our next meeting on Tuesday, March 28, 2023 in our home—the Colonial Room of Masonic Hall. See you there.

     

‘Perfect Square to host Doneraile Court author’

    

Okay, I’m late with coverage of the Scottish Masonry conference in Virginia from early November, but it’s coming. In the meantime, let me promote this speaking event. Kathleen Aldworth Foster, author of the novel Doneraile Court (told you about it some time ago), is on the Masonic speaking circuit.

She’ll appear December 14 at Perfect Square Lodge 204 at Masonic Hall, after the lodge meeting. I think this has all the details:

Click to enlarge.

Photo ID is required to enter Masonic Hall. If you want to attend the lodge meeting, bring your Masonic ID, etc. and be in the Colonial Room at seven.

Also, she will appear at the Grand Lodge of Pennsylvania’s Masonic Temple in Philly on Saturday, December 17 in the Masonic Library and Museum Speaker Series, which will be streamed also. (And we at New Jersey’s research lodge are hoping to book her for a date in 2023. Her talk concerns the process of researching and writing her novel, after all.)

     

‘As fervency and zeal cool’

    

Click to enlarge.

On this date 162 years ago, the Most Puissant Grand Council of Royal and Select Masters of New Jersey and its first three constituent councils took form.

Scott Council 1 is still at it. In fact, we were practicing some of the work several hours ago. And we’re still kin to Union Lodge 19 (see above).

Kane Council 2 and Gebal 3 were euthanized by the Grand Master recently, although Gebal is back on life support. I would think a grand council would move (gilded) mountains to sustain its founding councils, but, ah, not quite.

162 = 3 x 3 x 3 x 3 x 2.

This is a tumultuous period for the Cryptic Rite in New Jersey, and it is hard to predict how much more time the Grand Council has to live. Years of frivolous leadership elected by a shrinking and apathetic membership spell doom.

It is the year 3022 for Cryptic Masons. The Deposit was made. Who in future years will remember it?

     

‘Scottish Freemasonry Symposium, Part II'

    

Before delving into the content of the presentations at the Scottish Freemasonry in America Symposium of two weeks ago, I’ll share several dozen photos from the guided tour of the George Washington Masonic National Memorial we attendees enjoyed. (I’m not procrastinating. These Magpie posts take time.)

First, the view of the Memorial from the north windows of the Magpie’s suite. Freemasonry’s origins are lost in the mists of antiquity, and the Memorial was lost in the fog.

The famous statue. Bro. Bryant Baker’s big bronze looms in Memorial Hall.

It was dedicated in 1950 by President Harry Truman.

The Alexandria Washington Lodge 22 meeting room.

This sign was posted at the lodge’s previous meeting hall from 1804 to 1944.

Tracing Board of the EA°.

For the FC°.

And for the Sublime Degree.

Where the magic happens.

In the West. Note the placement of J&B.

The desk often has negative connotations, such as being a place of frustrating inactivity, but I bet the lodge secretary doesn’t mind sitting behind this one.

(‘I really just like to be at a desk.’ — Tom Stoppard.)

‘In the midst of Solomon’s Temple there stands a G,
A Letter fair for all to read and see,
But few there be that understands
What means that Letter G.’
— Masonry Dissected

And then there is Ye Olde Lodge Meeting Room.
There is an elegance to the small furniture.

The Three Great Lights of Freemasonry.
The Square must have been a Master’s collar jewel at some time.

The Master’s Pedestal.

Speaking of desks, if your Treasurer or Secretary complains about his, just show him what his ancestors had to work with!

This is described at the Memorial as a scarf. The Museum of Freemasonry in London has something similar, which it calls a snuff handkerchief. As much as you wouldn’t imagine unclogging your honker of GAOTU only knows what into a silk piece decorated with our symbols after indulging in a pinch of snuff, it is true that Masons of old adorned all kinds of items with the images of the Craft.

Don’t sit down.

I feel like Jeremy Cross himself gave direction when this was painted.

Replica of the apron presented to George Washington, after victory at Yorktown in 1781, by two merchants in France in recognition of ‘glorious efforts in support of American liberty.’ Bears some resemblance to the Mt. Nebo Apron, n’est-ce pas?

Replica of the gavel Washington employed in the cornerstone dedication of the U.S. Capitol in 1793. The original is custody of Potomac Lodge 5 in the District of Columbia. New Jersey’s research lodge once possessed a replica too, a gift from MW David A. Chase, who set us to labor. Sadly, someone ‘borrowed’ it years ago when we met in the Trenton Temple.

Various exhibits abound inside the Memorial. Here is a fiftieth anniversary loving cup, and a gorgeous specimen too, from Kane Council 2 of Royal and Select Masters in New Jersey. Kane would have reached its 162nd anniversary next Saturday, but its charter was revoked recently. I’ll be exposing that ugliness in an upcoming edition of The Magpie Mason.

Ceramic pitcher from Liverpool, England.

I’m imagining many servings of punch. Vivat!

I love the porcelain and ceramic and glass pieces of yore.

Masonic material culture today is so chintzy and uninspiring. 

St. Paul’s Lodge 481 commissioned this pipe tobacco humidor to commemorate the 125th anniversary of the Grand Lodge of Pennsylvania in 1911. Beautiful piece, and I’m not just editorializing because of my fondness for the pipe! See photos of an identical jar here. Like the Kane Council cup, this, and a whole lot of other Masonic ceramics, were manufactured in Trenton, New Jersey.

Outstanding.

These punch bowls are found in Masonic museums up and down the East Coast,

and elsewhere, I’m sure. Made in China during the 1790s.

Good fire!

Glass flask.

Scrimshaw carving on bone or ivory was popular among sailors back in the day.

I’ll guess this is an English apron circa 1800. I forgot to take note of the identifying card that surely was next to this.

Aprons made of simple paper are used at meetings that draw large groups to accommodate all those who didn’t bring their own regalia. President Franklin Roosevelt (Holland Lodge 8) had two sons, James and Franklin, Jr., who were raised in Architect Lodge 519. This must have been a wing ding. In attendance were the Grand Master, Mayor LaGuardia, several state Supreme Court judges, and other dignitaries.

Ahiman Rezon originally was the book of constitutions of the ‘Ancients’ Grand Lodge circa 1751. In America, when home grown grand lodges began to organize in the former colonies, some of those identifying with the Ancients chose Ahiman Rezon as the title of their respective constitutions (e.g. Pennsylvania, South Carolina, maybe others). This text is the Grand Lodge of Pennsylvania’s printed in 1783. What does the term mean? You’ll find different explanations in Masonic literature, such as the Hebrew for ‘to help a brother’ or something similar. I’m going with Shawn Eyer’s explanation: ‘Both Ahiman and Rezon are names from the Bible. In fact, the Biblical character Ahiman appears in the Ahiman Rezon, which lets you know immediately that all those who claim it is a mystery what Ahiman means have not bothered to read the book and don’t know their Bible.’

Sigh. Book publishing in the nineteenth century.

This beer can was left in the attic during construction of the Memorial in the 1930s.

There are other statues of Washington about the Memorial. New Yorkers ought

to recognize this one from its gilded twin inside the Hollender Room of Masonic Hall.

In the Louis A. Watres Library, they found space for Mark’s new book.

And, in closing, the ‘view’ that morning from the observation deck.

     

‘The ALR’s new clothes’

     

Just another reminder that The American Lodge of Research will be on the road in two weeks, paying a visit to West Point Lodge 877 in the Hudson Valley. That’s Thursday, December 1 at seven o’clock. The lodge is right outside the Military Academy.

All Master Masons are welcome, so please let us know you’re coming by signing up here. Attire is suit and tie business casual with apron. Feel free to bring your own regalia, but I’m sure West Point Lodge will have aprons available for you.

Speaking of aprons, I am tasked with bringing our officers’ regalia to this meeting so, for now, I’ve got them inside an acid-free box in my subterranean climate controlled vault. The ALR recently purchased these aprons from Macoy. Great stuff. Expensive, but the quality definitely is there. Have a look:

This piece of embroidery is located on the apron flap.

Our new jewels did not come from Macoy, which is why they’re smallish and suspended from plain ropes. (We are a lodge of Masonic research and education, so there isn’t any pomp in our activities. Even our installation of officers leans toward the perfunctory.) The photo above shows superfluous pieces that came with the set. We don’t have Stewards, a Chaplain, a Marshal, or a Tiler.

Although sometimes a Chaplain wouldn’t be a bad idea.

See you December first!

    

‘New Dunbar biography’

    

A biography of Paul Laurence Dunbar was published earlier this year, and its author will discuss his subject in a lecture next Tuesday at New York Society Library. Dunbar (click here) was a Mason and a highly regarded poet at the turn of the century. From the publicity:

Gene Andrew Jarrett

The Life and Times

of a Caged Bird

The New York Society Library

Tuesday, November 22

6 p.m.

Live and online.

Free and open

to the public.

Register here.

On the 150th anniversary of his birth, a definitive new biography of a pivotal figure in American literary history.

A major poet, Paul Laurence Dunbar (1872-1906) was one of the first African-American writers to garner international recognition in the wake of emancipation. In this definitive biography, the first full scale life of Dunbar in half a century, Gene Andrew Jarrett offers a revelatory account of a writer whose Gilded Age celebrity as the “poet laureate of his race” hid the private struggles of a man who, in the words of his famous poem, felt like a “caged bird“ that sings.

Jarrett tells the fascinating story of how Dunbar, born during Reconstruction to formerly enslaved parents, excelled against all odds to become an accomplished and versatile artist. A prolific and successful poet, novelist, essayist, playwright, and Broadway librettist, he also was a friend of such luminaries as Frederick Douglass and Orville and Wilbur Wright. But while audiences across the United States and Europe flocked to enjoy his literary readings, Dunbar privately bemoaned shouldering the burden of race and catering to minstrel stereotypes to earn fame and money. Inspired by his parents’ survival of slavery, but also agitated by a turbulent public marriage,  beholden to influential benefactors, and helpless against his widely reported bouts of tuberculosis and alcoholism, he came to regard his racial notoriety as a curse as well as a blessing before dying at the age of only thirty-three.

Beautifully written, meticulously researched, and generously illustrated, this biography presents the richest, most detailed, and most nuanced portrait yet of Dunbar and his work, transforming how we understand the astonishing life and times of a central figure in American literary history.

Gene Andrew Jarrett is the Dean of the Faculty and William S. Tod Professor of English at Princeton University. He is also the co-editor of The Collected Novels of Paul Laurence Dunbar and The Complete Stories of Paul Laurence Dunbar.

     

I learned of this book and this event only a few hours ago, so I can’t say if this new biography reports Dunbar’s Masonic activities, but I asked the author about it via Twitter, and I’ll update this if I receive a reply. Dunbar was a great poet, so Masonic history or no, this speaking engagement will be worthwhile.