University of Virginia Library

18. CHAPTER XVIII.

Once more change we the scene of our eventful drama.
On the same evening during which the events described in
our last chapter transpired, another scene having an important
bearing on the catastrophe of our tale was acting
in a different quarter. Of this scene, it is our next purpose
to lift the curtain.

In a spacious hall, situated in one of our flourishing seaports,
and consecrated to the uses of the mystic order, now
sat a small circle of the brotherhood in deep consultation
on some matter evidently of high import to the interests of
their revered institution. Though few in numbers, they
were obviously, from their dress, age, and deportment, a
select and chosen band composed of the high and honored,
and the wise and trusty of the fraternity. They appeared
to be intently engaged in examining various books,
manuscripts and papers, which lay spread on the table before
them, and which, after having been perused by one,
were handed on to another, with a low, passing remark, and
sometimes with a direction by the finger to some particular
passage, till they were thus passed round the whole
circle. After having been engaged awhile in this manner,
an elderly personage, who appeared to be acting as the
presiding dignitary on the occasion, giving a rap on the
table with his small ivory gavel, now rose and observed,—

“This charge, Brothers Knights—this charge, or accusation,
which has been presented by our illustrious visiting
companion in behalf of our respected brethren of Mugwump,
against this poor infatuated man, being amply proved
and established by testimony which, by the usages of
the craft, has always been admitted in similar cases, it remains
only for us now to consider what order shall be taken
in regard to this unpleasant transaction. And involving,
as I scarcely need tell you it does, a crime of the foulest
turpitude, and touching, in the most vital part, the interests
and safety of our exalted institution, it is meet that we proceed

with due caution, and proper deliberation, in determining
what punishment should be awarded to the execrable
wretch who has thus dared to violate his oaths, and
trample under foot one of the most sacred and essential
jewels of masonry. To this end, a full expression of the
individual opinions of all present is highly desirable.”

So saying, and shaking back his silvery locks with impressive
dignity, he resumed his seat; when, after a moment
of profound silence, a tall and somewhat youthful
looking person arose, and extending forth his hand, while
his elbow gracefully rested on his side, addressed the listening
conclave as follows:—

“Illustrious Companions, and

“Brothers most puissant and powerful:

“I will own that I am imbued with the most deep and
momentous indignation at the constipated atrocity of this
most unheard-of, unthought-of, and diabolical instigation
which we are now congregated to nullify and dissertate.
And while I candidly confess, that I have drank deep of
the hallucinating fountains of masonry, and mounted high
its perpendicular glories, that I have often sat in learned
ostentation with the most illustrious Grand Kings, holy
and illustrious Knights, and Potentates and their exalted
Princes of our celestial order, in the circumambient State
of New-York, where masonry has arrived to such a pitch of
cohesive perfection as to monopolize all the most ponderous
offices of their government, and embrace by far the
most inflated portion of their society. While I confess
all these great and exulting advantages for masonic developements,
I feel a more qualified presumption in obtruding
my delectable opinions on your obsequious attention. And
as regards the proper and punishable infliction which
ought to be fulminated on the head of this indelible reptile,
I have but one concentrated opinion. We swear and
solemnize in all the subordinate degrees that we will suffer
our lives to be abolished if we violate our obligations; and
in the higher and more mystified exaltations of masonry,
we are commanded to bring all others who violate their

infringements to the most speedy and condign punishment. In
the obligation of Knight Adepts of the Eagle or Sun, which
I, and some of you, I comprehend, have been superlatively
glorified in taking, we find these sentimental commands:
We are bound to cause their death, and take vengeance on the
treason by the destruction of the traitor, all of which is beautifully
illustrified in that evangelical degree, by the fate of
the man peeping. Now my conclusive opinion forces me
to the most inveterate belief, that as the perjured wretch,
who is now under investigation for betraying the secrets
of masonry, has not had the honorable conscience, like
Jubela, Jubelo, Jubelum, to deliver himself up to be excruciated
by the penalties of his obligation, it is our most nefarious
duty to execute them ourselves, and blot out the monster
from the face of his existence.”

With this burst of eloquent indignation and brilliant
display of masonic erudition, our hero, (who, having lived
through his Green-Mountain ramification as he probably,
in his own flowing language, would have expressed it, had
now arrived at the scene of action, and, as the reader I
presume has already discovered, was no other than the
gifted speaker,) slowly sunk back into his seat, not fainting,
like the great Pinckney at the close of his speech, but
calmly adjusting his ruffles over a bosom heaving with the
proud consciousness that his zeal and faithfulness in the
cause of masonry could only be equalled by the eloquence
and ability with which he had enforced its divine precepts.

As soon as the hum of applause which followed this powerful
appeal had a little subsided, a member; who had not
appeared to join in these manifestations of approbation,
hesitatingly arose, and, with the marks of doubt, irresolution
and perplexity, deeply depicted on his countenance,
timidly observed,

“I am very fearful, respected Brothers, that we shall act
too precipitately in this painful business. I am aware that
most of our obligations conclude with penalties or imprecations
of death; but these are ancient forms, and adopted
probably in the dark ages, when laws and customs were

altogether different from those of the present day. And I
am not, I confess, without some misgivings and doubts
whether we are authorized, in these times of civilization
and wholesome laws, to execute these penalties according
to their literal meaning. Indeed I believe that some intelligent
masons are of the opinion that an expulsion is all
the punishment that we now have any right to inflict for
betraying the secrets or”—

Here a general sneer of contempt and indignation interrupted
the speaker, and “Who thinks so?”—“who says
so?”—“where are the cowardly traitors that dare avow
it?” hastily demanded half a dozen members at once, starting
on to their feet and bending their angry and almost
withering looks full on the abashed and shrinking speaker.

“Order!” exclaimed the Master, giving a loud rap on
the table—“Order, Brethren! Our councils vouchsafe a
free expression of opinion, and each member has a right
to utter his sentiments, however erroneous and unmasonic
they may be. And it is the duty of the brethren to curb
and circumscribe their passions within due bounds, and endeavor
to enlighten the erring by reason rather than with
the language of menace.”

Thus rebuked by the Master, the brotherhood, restraining
their agitated forms and disturbed feelings, again sunk
into silence—not however, without throwing many a dark
and meaning look, and many a glance of suspicion on the
weak and erring brother who now sat mute and trembling
and seemingly sinking to the floor under the weight of his
own conscious unworthiness.

Order having now been restored in the conclave, the
discussion was resumed. Several speeches of a very determined
tone, and full of fiery declamation, were now
made in opposition to the remarks of the doubting brother.
After which, a member of the conclave who had been
a cool and dispassionate, and so far a silent observer of
the scene, now rose and calmly observed,

That for one he never approved of the use of harsh
terms in expressing the performance of those disagreeable

duties which justice sometimes required at their hands.
They often served to alarm the timid and faint hearted;
besides, they were not in accordance with the general policy
of the craft. Such things should be expressed, he
said, as they should be done, with that caution and prudence
which constituted some of the most cardinal virtues
of the true mason. But as to the principle laid down by
his illustrious and eminently gifted brother Peacock, aside
from the terms in which it was expressed, he was surprised
that any doubts should be entertained by any intelligent
mason on a point which he considered so well settled by
the precedents and examples to be found in the history of
the institution. So saying he then took up a book, and,
turning to a passage at which he had previously turned
down a leaf, proceeded to read the history of the degree
of Elected Knights of Nine, also of the degree of Elected
Grand Master, or Illustrious Elected of Fifteen; the former
giving an account of the death of Akirop, who, having
been guilty of some crime of an enormous nature, had fled
from Jerusalem and concealed himself in a cavern, where
he was seized by a band of trusty brethren, allotted to that
honorable service by their Grand Master Solomon, and
slain by Joabert, who in his impatient zeal thus anticipated
that justice on the traitor which of right belonged to the
Grand Master to execute. The latter passage described
a similar transaction.

“Now, Right Worshipful Brethren,” said the speaker,
closing the book and looking down upon it with a sort of
embarrassing modesty as he stood carelessly balancing it
in his hands,—“this work, although perhaps it does not
become me to speak of its merits, yet having been diligently
compiled from the best historical authorities, and
carefully compared with all the traditional accounts on the
subject, and moreover having been fully approved and recommended
by competent judges, whose names are hereto
prefixed, as a true and authentic history—this work, I
say, it seems to me, is calculated to throw all the light on
the subject now under consideration which can possibly
be needed to indicate the course of our operations. We

here see that the brethren were so anxious for the honor
of bringing the traitor to justice for this crime, which,
whatever it might have been, is ranked in the oath of the
degree the same as the crime of divulging the secrets, and
subject to the same punishment, that Solomon was compelled
to restrain their commendable zeal, and decide by
lot who should be the favored few to perform this important
and glorious service. And we further see that when
Joabert, in his just indignation against the traitor, had too
impatiently slain him, Solomon was even offended with
this zealous brother, not on account of the act, but because
he had deprived him of the enviable chance of meting
out justice to the villain with his own hands; but by
proper intercession, however, he not only became appeased
and forgave Joabert, but invested him with the highest
honors in reward for this heroic service to the institution!
Now will any mason dare attempt to impeach this high
example, or question the rectitude of the conduct of that
eminent Grand Master of antiquity? And are we, who are
but the dust of the balance in the comparison, are we sitting
here coldly hesitating, and doubting the right and
justice of the act which the illustrious King Solomon, who
has so long and so proudly been hailed by our admiring
order as the great and shining light of the East to guide
their humble footsteps in the paths of masonic wisdom—
the right and justice of the act, I say, which the illustrious
Solomon thus esteemed and thus rewarded? Is this such
a specimen of light and improvement as you should be
willing the shade of that mighty man, looking down from
his lofty seat in heaven, should behold in his followers?
I beg leave to close my remarks with a quotation from the
same work:”

Closing his observations with this beautiful little specimen
of the inspiration of the mystic muse, here so appositely
introduced, the learned speaker sat down amidst the
warm, deep, rapturous, and long-continued applauses of
the approving brotherhood, who thus, with almost united
acclaim, pronounced the sense of the conclave on the subject
matter in debate.

Nothing further being offered in opposition to the affirmative
of this important question, and there having been
such decided indications that the arguments and cited authorities
of the last speaker had, in the minds of the conclave,
unanswerably and irrevocably settled the fate of the
victim, this part of the discussion was now dropped, and
the mode of disposing of the unfortunate man was next
brought under consideration. Here there appeared to be
some diversity of opinion: Some proposed that lots should
be cast, after the example of King Solomon, for designating
the performers of this important duty: Some that the
villain should be put out of the way by the first of their
number who should meet him alone in some by-place to
which he might be easily allured: Some thought that he
should be dealt with by the full council in the lodge-room
where the penalties should be executed in a true and strictly
masonic manner, else it would be but little better than
actual murder; and others that it should be done by volunteers
who should be left to choose their own time, place
and manner of performing the meritorious deed. None of
these however seemed fully to answer the minds of all
present. It was in this emergency that the genius of our
hero, which often seemed to be masonically intuitive, shone
conspicuous. He proposed that as many balls as there
were members present should be put into an urn, three of
which should be stained with blood, or some red substance,
as indicative of the duty of those who should draw them:
and that the urn should then be passed round, when each
member should draw out one of these balls, and, without
examining it, put it in his pocket till he had left the lodge
room, when those who, by inspecting their respective balls

when alone, discovered themselves to be the fortunate
men, should meet each other at midnight in the most central
church-yard, hold a private meeting, and concert
measures for the execution of their duty, which was however
to be performed according to masonic technics,
though in some secret place, and without the knowledge
of any other of the members.

This ingenious and truly masonic plan of our hero was
received by the conclave generally with the most flattering
approbation. Some praised it because it embraced in substance
the plan they had suggested: Some because it was
better calculated than any other way to prevent giving rise
to any of those little jealousies and feelings of envy which
might be created towards those who had the superior good
fortune to be designated for the honor; and yet others of
the prudent and cautious cast approved of the measure on
account of the safety it insured to all concerned, in case of
discovery and a meddlesome interference of the civil authorities,
who would thereby be deprived of witnesses except
in the immediate actors, or principals, who could not
be compelled to criminate themselves. In short, all saw
the advantages of the proposed plan, and it was immediately
adopted.

The several members of the conclave now commenced,
with great alacrity, making preparations for carrying the
plan of operations into instant effect. An urn, containing
a number of the marbles used in the common ballotings of
the lodge-room, corresponding to the number of members
present, was brought forth and set upon the table—when
Timothy, heroically pricking a vein in his own wrist, took
three of the balls and bathed them all over with the blood
thus produced, till they were deeply and indelibly stained
with the significant and ominous color. After which they
were returned and shaken up with the balls remaining in
the urn. The brethren were then formally arranged at
equal distances from each other round the long, eliptical
table, about which the conclave had been irregularly gathered
during their discussion, and the solitary lamp, which

had set in the midst, was removed to a distant corner of the
room. The fate-holding urn was then taken by a Warden
and passed slowly and silently along the gloomy circle, and,
while the distant and feeble light dimly threw its sidelong
and flickering rays athwart the livid and ghastly-looking
visages of the darkly grouped brotherhood, displaying the
varying indications of the deep and contrasted emotions
with which they were respectively agitated—from the demoniac
smile of anticipated vengeance, to the cold and
settled gravity of predetermined justice—from the stern
and fiery glance of the headlong and danger-daring, to the
hesitating start or convulsive shudder of the misgiving and
doubtful—all, in turn, were subjected to the test, and successively
put forth their tremulous hands and drew out
their uncertain allotments.

This fearful ceremony being now concluded, the Master
then stated to the conclave that this meeting not having
been a regularly opened and conducted lodge, but acting
as a select investigating tribunal, and the criminal not
having been present, it had been deemed advisable to hold
on the following evening a Grand Council of Knights, before
which the guilty wretch, (measures having been taken
to have him in town,) would be arraigned to answer to the
dreadful charge which had been preferred and proved
against him,—this mode of procedure being considered
most conformable to ancient usages when one of the craft
had been found guilty of treasonable or other heinous offences
against the institution. And here, if he did not,
like some of the ancient traitors, imprecate his own doom,
the fearful sentence which had this evening been matured,
would be pronounced against the perjured offender, and
he would be left to those on whom the high duty might
devolve of meting out the measure of justice adequate to
the enormity of the crime. The conclave then broke up,
and the brethren, after lingering awhile to make arrangements
and devise measures for the operations of the next
day and evening, stealthily retired to their respective
abodes.

No sooner had our hero reached his lodgings and found
himself alone, than he eagerly pulled forth the uncertain
ball—when, to the unspeakable delight of his aspiring
soul, he saw himself one of the honored and fortunate
three who were commissioned for the important duty—a
duty which the lapse of ages might not again afford the
enviable chance of performing.

With such heroic and exalted feeling glowing in his devoted
bosom, he sat off at the appointed hour for the designated
rendezvous of the chosen trio, the result of whose
deliberations will be seen in our following and final chapter.