University of Virginia Library

2. CHAPTER II.

The 17th of April, 1790, was the day made memorable
in the annals of American Masonry, by the birth of our
hero, Timothy Peacock. The seal of future greatness
having been stamped by destiny on the brow of the infantile
Timothy, it is no marvel, therefore, that many incidents
of a peculiarly singular and ominous character marked his
birth and childhood. The day on which he was born, being
the very day that terminated the earthly career of the
illustrious Franklin, was of itself a circumstance worthy of
particular notice; and it operated with much force on the
astute mind of his doating father, who, being a firm believer
in the doctrine of transmigration of souls, had a deep
impression that the spirit of the departed philosopher had
taken up its residence in his infant son. Again, a very remarkable
potato had grown in Mr. Peacock's garden the
previous season. This singular vegetable, which had grown
in the form of an accute triangle, or a pair of open dividers,
had been hung up in the cellar the fall before, as nothing
more than a mere natural curiosity; but the moment Mr.
Peacock cast his eyes upon it, a few days after the birth of
Timothy, he instantly became sensible that things of far
deeper import were involved in the formation of this mysterious
production; and the truth, with intuitive rapidity,

at once flashed across his mind: It was the well-known
masonic emblem, the compass, and an undoubted omen
that his house was about to be honored with a human production
that was to become distinguished in the mysteries
of that art thus strikingly designated. But these conclusions
of Mr. Peacock, as well warranted as they were by
that remarkable omen, were confirmed by a fact that he
conceived could admit of no cavil or speculation. The
child came into the world with the mark of a grid-iron
clearly and palpably impressed, and that too, on those very
parts which he knew, from experience, masonry particularly
delighted to honor. I am aware that there are many
among the would-be medico-philosophers of the present
day, who would perhaps attribute the existence of this striking
mark upon the infant, to the imagination of the mother,
whose kind assiduities, as I have before intimated, had
been put in requisition a few months before, on the occasion
of her husband's initiation into the secrets of Masonsonry;
but in reply to such conceited opinionists, I need
only observe, that facts can never be outweighed by visionary
speculations; and it was upon facts such as I have
related, that Mr. Peacock founded his prophetic belief that
his son was destined to future excellence, and that this
excellence was to be more especially conspicuous in the
path of masonic honors. Nor were the signs of future intellect
at all wanting still further to confirm and justify his
parents in the opinion they had formed of his brilliant destiny.
Such indeed was the child's mental precocity, that
new fears began to take possession of Mrs. Peacock, lest
his extraordinary forwardness might be the forerunner of
premature decay. But happily for the interests of Masonry,
these maternal fears were never realized. The boy
grew apace in body and mind. Before he was eight years
old, he had nearly mastered all the intricacies of the English
alphabet; and such was his progress in natural history,
as illustrated in his horn book, that before he was ten
he could readily tell the picture of a hog from that of a
horse without any prompting or assistance whatever. Such
wonders indeed may have since been witnessed under the
system of infant schools lately brought into vogue, but it
must be recollected that our hero at that day was deprived
of the advantages of that incomparable method of hot-bed
instruction. Mrs. Peacock, when viewing this unparalelled
improvement of her darling son, would often heave a
sigh of regret that she was doomed to bring up a child of
such promise in this publican land, as she termed it, where
he could never become a lord or a lord's gentleman, or
wear any of those great titles to which his abilities would
doubtless raise him in England. But Mr. Peacock was
wont to soothe her grief on these occasions by suggesting
that Timothy might, and unquestionably would, become a
great Mason, and thus acquire all the grand titles of this
order, which was no doubt introduced into this country as
the only way of conferring titles and distinctions in this
land of ragamuffinous dimecrats.

It was reflections like these, probably, that operated on
Mr. Peacock about this time, and rendered him unusually
anxious to advance still further himself in the higher degrees
of Masonry, in which, as yet, he had made no other
progress than that which we have already described in the
preceding chapter. Botherworth had been applied to for
this purpose, but that gentleman informed Mr. Peacock that
he had already imparted all that was useful or instructive
in all the degrees which he himself had taken, and that
whoever wished for any more of the mystery, must obtain
it from a regular lodge in which it could alone be conferred.
Mr. Peacock accordingly made application to sundry
Masons to obtain their intercession with the lodge in
his behalf, but these applications, though backed by a frequent
use of those signs and tokens which Botherworth had
told him were so omnipotent, were never heeded, and all
his attempts therefore to gratify his ambition in this line
of preferment were entirely fruitless. This was a source
of great mortification as well as of much perplexity to Mr.
Peacock, who could by no means satisfactorily account in
his own mind for these unexpected failures after having

made so much progress in the art. He sometimes began
to entertain serious doubts whether he had been properly
initiated, and whether his masonry was of the legitimate
kind. And in this, perhaps, he may be joined by some of
my masonic readers. I cannot think, however, that these
scruples of Mr. Peacock were well-grounded: At least, I
do not consider that he had reason to complain of any injustice
done him by the Worshipful Master, who initiated
him, in withholding any useful masonic knowledge; for if
he did not impart all those secrets, or perform in strictness
all the ceremonies usual on such occasions, he substituted
as many others as were a fair equivalent, and those too of a
character which would not derogate from the decency or
dignity of a legitimate initiation. But to return from this
digression: Mr. Peacock finally gave up his doubts respecting
the genuineness of his masonry, and attributed his want
of success to the circumstance of his being a foreigner,
which he supposed was sufficient to awaken the envy and
provoke the hostility of even the fraternity in this land of
titulary barrenness. This, however, was a disability to
which his son would not be subject, and he concluded
therefore to centre his hopes on Timothy for distinguishing
his family by the reflected honors of that illustrious order.
Accordingly he early endeavored to impress his young mind
with reverence to the institution, and for that purpose had
a little apron made for the boy, beautifully over-wrought
with masonic emblems. His dog was named Jubelo, his
cat Jubela, and his pet-lamb Jubelum. And thus, by keeping
these rudiments of mystic knowledge continually before
his youthful mind, those impressions were doubtless implanted,
to which may be attributed the subsequent direction
of mental energies that raised our hero to such a pinnacle
of glory on the ladder of Jacob.

But as it may not be interesting to the reader to follow
my hero through a minute detail of his various improvements
to the completion of his education, I shall pass lightly
over this period of his life, and content myself with observing
that his progress in science, literature, and all the

various branches of knowledge which he attempted, fully
made good the promise of his childhood at the age when,
as before mentioned, he accomplished his abecedarian triumph.
It may be proper, however, here to notice one prevailing
taste which he early manifested in the course of his
education: This was a strong predilection for the study and
exercise of the art of oratory, and that part of it more especially
which, seeking the most dignified and sonorous expressions,
constitutes what is called the Ciceronian flow.
So high, indeed, was the standard of his taste in this particular,
that he rarely condescended, when he attempted
any thing like a display of his powers, to use any words,
(except the necessary adjuncts and connectives) short of
polysyllables.—And these, with the intuitive quickness of
genius, he at once seized upon and appropriated to his use,
selecting them from the great mass of those undignified
cumberers of our language, monosyllables, by the same rule
by which the acute farmer, in purchasing his scythe or his
cauldron, or by which, in selecting his seed potatoes from
his ample bin, he is accustomed to make choice of the largest
and the longest. It was this trait, probably, in the intellectual
character of our hero—this gift, so peculiarly
adapted to give expression to the lofty dictums of masonic
philosophy, that contributed mainly in rearing him to that
eminence among the fraternity for which he was afterwards
so conspicuous.

But these juvenile years flew rapidly away, and time rolling
on, and bringing about many other events of moment
to the world, brought also our hero to the age of twenty-one,—that
important period which so often gives a turn to
our destinics for life. It did so to Timothy. Mr. Peacock,
who had long deliberated on the course of life most advantageous
for his son to pursue, at last concluded, as he had
no employment suitable for one of his genius at home, to
send him abroad to seek his fortune. And although he
could furnish but a small allowance of the needful for such
an enterprize, his means having been sadly impaired of late
years, not only in the education of Timothy, who had been

sent one quarter to a neighboring academy by way of adding
the finishing polish to his acquirements, but by the
heavy drafts of Mrs. Peacock on the bar-box of the Doggery
for the support of her show of the family dignity, yet he
had little doubt but Timothy's talents and education would
command for him both emolument and honor. This course
having been once settled and confirmed by all parties in
interest, arrangements were soon completed for his departure.
The important day fixed on for this purpose at length
arrived; and our hero having buckled on his pack for his
pedestrian excursion, went to receive the adieus and blessings
of his parents before leaving their kind roof for the
broad theatre of the world, when Mr. Peacock, with the
characteristic frankness of the high-minded English, thus
addressed him:

“As you are now about to go abroad into the world, in
the first place, remember, my son, that all men are scoundrels
by nature, and especially in this country of dogs and
dimecrats. But you have an Englishman's blood beneath
your hide, which should make you hold up your head in
any country. But blood, I know, won't do every thing for
you without tallow; and as I have but little of the solid
lucre to give you, why, you must cut and carve out a fortune
for yourself. They will tell you that this rippublercan government
is the best in the world; but they lie as fast as a
dog will trot, except the fast trotting dogs. I see nothing
here that compares with England, but masonry, which you
must join as soon as you get settled, as I have often told
you; then you will have titles that the dimecrats can't get
away from you, do what they will. Then go, my son,
and become a great man, and do something in the world
that will make your ancestors proud of you till the last day
of eternity, so mote it be, amen and good by to ye.”