The Shadow of Solomon: The Lost Secret of the Freemasons Revealed

By Laurence Gardner

What secrets lie behind the mysterious order of the Freemasons? Published to coincide with Dan Brown's new novel, set in the enigmatic world of Freemasonry, Laurence Gardner's new book draws on his experience as a Freemason to create a compelling insider's account of the startling truth behind Masonic history and secret workings of Freemasonry.

Did you know that every 37th man in the UK is a Freemason? Or that the design of Washington DC includes no fewer than 30 Masonic Zodiacs?

The Shadow of Solomon is perfectly timed to coincide with publication of the forthcoming novel from Da Vinci Code author, Dan Brown – The Lost Symbol – which focuses on the Masonic principles that lie beneath the establishment of the United States and its constitution. But who are the Freemasons today and where did they they come from?

In the Shadow of Solomon, Laurence Gardner, a Freemason himself for over 20 years, reveals the origins and hidden working of the world’s most powerful secret society, as well as their crucial influence in the history of the US.

Gardner's in-depth research presents a fascinating historical detective trail that leads from the most ancient records of the fraternity to modern times. This is a truly adventurous saga stretching from Noah and Moses to the elite lodge of the Knights Templars, George Washington, spies, secret agents and clandestine cabals on both sides of the Atlantic.

But Gardner goes further. Stories of the biblical King Solomon and his Jerusalem Temple reside at the heart of Freemasonry, and they are reckoned to be the guardians of ancient secrets connected to the Ark of the Covenant and the Philosopher's Stone – what are these secrets that have been lost to modern Freemasons for nearly three centuries?

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins UK
• Release date: Sep 17, 2009
• ISBN: 9780007343560

Laurence Gardner

Laurence Gardner, a Fellow of the Society of Antiquaries, is a constitutional historian, international lecturer and broadcaster. Distinguished in Europe as the Chevalier de St. Germain, he is Presidential Attaché to the European Council of Princes and the appointed Jacobite Historiographer Royal. In Scotland he is Prior of the Sacred Kindred of Saint Columba and Preceptor of the Knights Templars of St. Anthony.

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Introduction

For close to 300 years since the foundation of England’s premier Grand Lodge in 1717, many books have been published concerning Freemasonry. They appear with some regularity, and masonic libraries are extensive in Britain, America, France and other countries. These books reside in two clearly defined camps: they are either written by masons, or they are written by non-masons. In the latter case, there are further subdivisions in that the publications might be pro-masonry or anti-masonry but, either way, their contents are based on hearsay. In comparison, books written by masons are generally written for masons. Though perhaps authoritative, they are largely concerned with in-house doctrines, and often relate to specific aspects that are of little interest to outsiders.

In The Shadow of Solomon, I have approached the subject from an objective standpoint since I am able to call upon long-term experience as a Freemason, while also now being an equally long-term Past Mason. Initiated into a City of London lodge in 1966, and subsequently progressing through the Craft degrees, my active regular involvement as a Master Mason continued for around 20 years. By the middle 1980s, however, it became necessary to review my situation because the requirements of lodge membership were potentially limiting to my occupation as an independent researcher. Consequently, I tended my formal resignation at the United Grand Lodge of England.

Since that time, while taking neither a pro nor anti-Freemasonry stance, I have continued to investigate masonic history, structure and practice in the course of general studies which often have loose or close associations with masonry. These include matters that concern chivalric institutions, philosophical societies and other groups that have influenced monarchical and governmental structure over the centuries. In the course of this, I have met with both approval and disapproval from masonic quarters. As in any walk of life, it is not possible to please everybody all of the time—and Freemasons are no exception in this regard. The majority are tolerant, fair-minded individuals with an aptitude for discussion, but for some there is no debating ground beyond the recognized teachings. Hence, although Freemasonry is not a religion, it is similar in certain respects since its defence mechanisms can operate in much the same way if there is a perceived challenge to the accepted dogma.

Numerous Grand Lodges worldwide have websites on the Internet, and these often present an intriguing scenario. Their purpose is to be informative—and many are—but there is also a good deal of defensive content. Pages of official replies are given to what are taken to be harmful assaults against the masonic establishment. No other organization suffers from such a proliferation of accusations, nor feels the need to respond with guarded explanations in every case. But why, if the Fraternity is loyal and mutually supportive, should they even care what outsiders think? It is the masonic choice to be secretive—it is not forced on them.

It is often stated in official literature that Freemasonry is not a secret society, and this is true to a point because its existence is hardly a secret; neither is there any requirement for secrecy of membership. But, in reality, this is splitting hairs since the masonic charge is that members must ‘conceal and never reveal’ aspects of learning from within the lodge environment. Thus, although not a secret society, it is indeed a secretive society and, to outsiders, this amounts to the same thing.

The basic precepts of Freemasonry have much in their favour, but the most anomalous feature is that masonic practice derives from certain ancient sciences which are never actually taught. Ceremonies are performed and rituals are learned, but it is stated that, for all this pageantry, the secrets on which the Brotherhood was founded were lost long ago.

The most devastating loss of primary manuscripts in respect of ancient philosophical thought was caused by the Church of Rome’s burning of the Library of Alexandria in AD 391. Subsequent to this, numerous other records were destroyed throughout the Roman Empire. Some discoveries of the utmost significance were made in the Middle Ages when the Knights Templars excavated the Jerusalem Temple vaults after the First Crusade. But, again, much was destroyed in the 14th-century Inquisition against the Order. Remnants of documentation were preserved outside the Papal States, particularly in Scotland, and philosophers of the emergent Royal Society (such as Isaac Newton, Christopher Wren and Robert Boyle) used what was available to make some of the greatest ever scientific discoveries (or, as we shall learn, re-discoveries). Earlier in the 17th century, however, many valuable papers had been burnt during the Cromwellian Protectorate, with further losses incurred in the Great Fire of London. Following this, a change of reigning dynasty and parliamentary affiliation saw even more documentation sidelined, while many key adepts of the masonic tradition were dispersed into European exile.

Freemasonry, in its current form, was established in the 18th century as a questing fraternity that would endeavour to retrieve and collate what could be salvaged of the scattered archive, but it was a short-lived enterprise. Within a very short time the movement changed its emphasis to become a charity-based social institution, although electing to maintain aspects of ritual that would satisfy the original philosophical ideal. These days—although ostensibly perceived as a secret society—it is fair to say that modern Freemasonry’s best kept secret is that it actually holds no secrets of any genuine substance. Contained within the surviving Renaissance annals, however, are numerous pointers which, although perhaps vague and incomprehensible 300 years ago, are becoming thoroughly meaningful as modern science catches up with its ancient past.

In The Shadow of Solomon, we shall follow an investigative trail of documented record, accessing some of the archival material that the Masonic Constitutions claimed to have been lost more than three centuries ago. We shall consider modern lodge workings in comparison with those of the past, to ascertain how latter-day Freemasonry was shaped and manipulated so as to cause its own original precepts to be forgotten. The Shadow of Solomon is arranged in three parts: in Part I the focus is on power, politics and the conspiratorial intrigue that set the scene for masonic evolution; Part II deals more specifically with the ceremonies and alchemical heritage of Freemasonry—its connection to chivalric institutions and the philosophies that underpin the foundation; finally, in Part III, the puzzle condenses into a unified shape as we discover not only how the original secrets of the Craft were lost, but why this happened and—most importantly—what those secrets were.

There are many allegorical glyphs and symbols used in Freemasonry; some are well known, others are not. But of all these, the most potent is among the least familiar to outsiders—a point within a circle float image 2 . As we shall see, the whole original purpose of Freemasonry rests with the definitive meaning of this device, which dates back to ancient times. We shall also discover that a time-hon-oured aspect of the Craft known as the Royal Arch Chapter holds the ultimate key to Freemasonry. Although the Chapter is optional to Brethren, it is within this particular ritual (as distinct from the three primary degrees) that the light of masonic heritage truly shines—yet the all-important Royal Arch was totally ignored by the Grand Lodge establishment for 96 years from its foundation. Many masons have wondered why the biblical Ark of the Covenant appears at the crest of the Arms of the United Grand Lodge of England, when it is not an item of significance in the Craft degrees. But clearly—as our investigation will reveal—it was once of the utmost significance, just as were the enigmatic Philosophers’ Stone, and the Golden Calf that Moses burnt to a powder in Sinai.

Our task is to undertake precisely what formalized Freemasonry sought to achieve when it was established back in 1717. It is, in essence, the quest for a philosophical treasure, and for a lost Mason’s Word which is the code to unlocking that treasure. The difference between our quest and that undertaken by the Fraternity itself is that we are not constrained by in-house preconceptions. Hence, our approach will succeed where earlier efforts have failed. Many of the time-honoured mysteries are, in fact, perfectly traceable, and emerge as being far more dramatically exciting than might be imagined.

Laurence Gardner

Exeter, March 2005.

PART I

1

Ancient Secrets

A Magical Heritage

Stories of the biblical King Solomon reside at the heart of modern Freemasonry. They relate especially to the building of his lavish Temple in Jerusalem, where the Ark of the Covenant was housed in the Holy of Holies. Famed for his extraordinary wealth and wisdom, this son of King David from around 950 BC presents an Old Testament enigma. He is greatly revered in Judaic lore, but also criticized for having a number of wives and for allowing many deities to be worshipped within his realm. Notable in the Solomon accounts are his relationships with the King of Tyre and the Queen of Sheba, each of whom supplied him with valuable gifts and a vast quantity of gold to enrich his kingdom of Judah (see page 285).

Outside the Bible, Jewish tradition holds that Solomon was a practitioner of divine technology, with a magic ring and a gem that could cut through stone with silent precision. And it was said that he kept the Ark mysteriously suspended above the ground. In such respects, King Solomon was regarded well beyond his era as a master magician, and he became a much revered figure in Renaissance Europe. As we shall see, the geometry of his Temple was considered to represent sacred perfection; the secret of his stone-cutting and his ability with levitation became subjects of scientific quest, and his passionate interest in gold was a source of constant fascination.

In figurative terms, Solomon holds the key to unlock the secrets of modern Freemasonry, but before the institution was formalized in 1717, the historical connection to his legacy rested with the Poor Knights of Christ and the Temple of Solomon. Commonly known as the Knights Templars, this elite fraternity of Western European knights—a military legation with a monastic structure—was founded in the early 1100s as an ambassadorial fraternity after the First Crusade. The question arises, therefore: Did the masonic movement take its lead from the Templars? If so, how does a modern-day charitable fraternity reconcile with a medieval Order of warrior monks? Or did Freemasonry evolve from stonemasons’ guilds, as is generally portrayed? Perhaps it began with the mystery schools of ancient Egypt, with which there are recognizable similarities. Whatever the case, the same question applies: How does the present institution equate with any of these?

The Bible’s Old and New Testaments have been used for centuries as scriptures which underpin the Jewish and Christian faiths, but that is not how they were originally conceived; neither were the Testaments written as cohesive volumes. They consist of a series of individual works written by different people at different times, eventually brought together with common purpose. The books embody aspects of history which, in the Old Testament, encompass lengthy spans of time, but they have a greater value than history alone in that the inherent stories often relate to truly extraordinary events. The fact that modern Freemasonry (which is neither a faith nor a religion) should focus on certain of these events after such a period of time is intriguing in itself, but it has been an evolutionary process which has brought a variety of past disciplines within the wrap of a single ideal.

In researching pre-18th century Freemasonry in its various guises, it becomes clear that its constituent parts were more romantically exciting as individual subjects than they have become beneath a masonic umbrella which veils them with allegory. Most notable is the science and nature of alchemy—the art of material transposition, which is most commonly associated with gold—along with the manipulation of light waves and, not least in the equation, the techniques of levitation. As recorded in texts from Mesopotamia, Egypt and other countries from the 3rd millennium BC, there is abounding evidence that the technological capabilities of ancient civilizations were far superior to anything credited to them by latter-day educational establishments. The study of such documents not only confirms a good deal of biblical scripture, but sheds a whole new light on the history and origins of Freemasonry. It is time, therefore, to put aside conventional dogma and preconceptions, and to look afresh at the archival material that supports the masonic ideal. To help us in our quest, we should first look at Freemasonry as it exists today and, in particular, at what its formative Constitution has to say about the masonic secrets themselves.

The Riddle of the Lost Archive

Freemasonry is described by the United Grand Lodge of England as ‘a peculiar system of morality, veiled in allegory and illustrated by symbols’. It is associated with the funding of schools, hospitals and care centres. But, worthy as these activities might be, it appears that they were introduced to give meaning and purpose to a brotherhood which apparently had no access to records of the tradition which it endeavoured to emulate. When the Presbyterian mason Rev James Anderson compiled and published The Constitutions of the Free-Masons in 1723, he wrote:

Very little has come down to us that testifies the English masonic tradition before the latter 17th century. Many of the Fraternity’s records of Charles II’s and former reigns were lost in the next and at the Revolution of 1688; and many of them were too hastily burnt in our time for fear of making discoveries.

Anderson’s reference to the ‘English masonic tradition’ is important because it reflects a commonly held view that Freemasonry is English by design. In loose terms, this is fair comment since the first Grand Lodge (as against separately run independent lodges) was instituted in London in 1717. Just six years after this, Anderson commented on the fraternity’s records of a previous generation—an archive that had seemingly been lost. Were those records English, or were they perhaps Scottish, given that King Charles II Stuart (whom he mentions) was of the royal line of Scotland? The Knights Templars certainly had been prevalent in Scotland after being banished by the Pope from England and Europe in 1307, but the 12th-century origin of the Templars was a matter of French historical record before it was Scottish.

If Freemasonry evolved into England from Scotland, and prior to that from France, an interesting scenario would be presented. But it would still not explain how centuries of chronicles from before 1723 had been lost. It may be that they were not lost—merely that it suited the new style of English Freemasonry to pretend this was so. But since Freemasonry is founded on the principles of honesty and integrity, it would seem incongruous for the establishment to be constituted with a pointless falsehood from the outset.

Our task, therefore, is to search beyond Anderson’s Constitutions and the founding of the first Grand Lodge of England—to look back as far as possible, tracing the story of Freemasonry as it evolved to become the secretive, charitable institution that exists today. In this regard, our search for the lost records must begin with Anderson’s own statement that they went missing in the reign following King Charles II, and during the Revolution of 1688.

Setting the Stage

Freemasonry is officially described as a ‘peculiar system of morality’, conceived as a neighbourly institution of fraternity and goodwill—and it rests upon well-defined codes of ‘brotherly love, faith and charity’. Indeed, these are all perfectly valid and admirable ideals, but they can exist perfectly well outside Freemasonry. No doubt there are other organizations which claim to support the same principles, but they are not covert and secretive. Any individual may aspire to the same codes of practice, but it does not take knowledge of secret signs and handshakes to make them possible. So, does Freemasonry confer some great and privileged secret to its members over and above these aspirations? Not according to James Anderson. He made it plain enough in the Constitutions that the secrets (whatever they were) have been lost. More than that, he said they had been burnt ‘for fear of making discoveries’.

From this it is evident that there is a distinct difference between pre and post-1688 Freemasonry, and that the earlier movement held secrets which are not apparent in the modern lodge workings. Candidates are advised on initiation that they will be ‘admitted to the mysteries and privileges of ancient Freemasonry’, but in fact they are not. They are admitted to the workings (and perhaps privileges) of modern Freemasonry. Some quaint rituals and entertaining ceremony have been preserved (or newly invented), but anything which made the brotherhood worthy of a code of silence, with secret signs and passwords of recognition, has long since been sidelined or forgotten.

So what happened in England in 1688 that was so dramatic as to change everything? Anderson specifically mentioned ‘the Revolution’, and it is with this that we should commence our investigation. From 1603 until 1688, the monarchy of Britain was the Royal House of Stuart. They had previously reigned in Scotland for 232 years from 1371, beginning with King Robert II, the grandson of Robert the Bruce. When Queen Elizabeth I Tudor of England died childless in 1603, her supposed nearest relative, King James VI Stuart of Scots, was granted dual crown status and invited to London to become James I of England.

James was succeeded by his son, who became Charles I of Britain in 1625 but, following the puritanical uprising of the parliamentary rebel, Oliver Cromwell, and the resultant Civil War, Charles was executed in 1649. There ensued a short period of Commonwealth, during which the late king’s son and royal heir was crowned King Charles II of Scots, at Scone, Perthshire, on 1 January 1651. Later that year, Cromwell’s army defeated the new King’s troops at Worcester in England, and Charles II fled to safety in France. Oliver Cromwell then decided to rule the nation by martial force alone, establishing his Protectorate in 1653 and dissolving Parliament to facilitate his military dictatorship.

In 1660, Charles II was restored to the British crowns, taking his hereditary seat in London. Although a popular and diplomatic monarch, Charles died without a legitimate heir, and was succeeded in 1685 by his brother, the Duke of York, who became King James II of England, while also being James VII of Scots (see Masonic and Monarchical Timeline, page 412).

In collaboration with such famed colleagues as the diarist Samuel Pepys (then Secretary to the Navy), James had previously revitalized the British Fleet after its abandonment by Oliver Cromwell. And, as James, Duke of York, he had named the American settlement of New York in 1664.¹ But, despite all his expertise and former glory, James became a very unfortunate king. Plagued in the first instance by a challenge for the throne from his illegitimate nephew, the Duke of Monmouth, James ultimately fell foul of his old trading enemies, the Dutch. He and Charles II had declared war against Holland in 1665 and, during his reign as King James II of England (VII of Scots), this loomed large to confront him in 1688.

At that time there was a religious upheaval in Britain—mainly because of Quaker and Presbyterian movements whose popularity in the rural areas was undermining the supremacy of the Anglican Church. It was also not long since England had been a formally Catholic nation, and Catholics still constituted about a seventh of the population.² In addition to this, there were many Jewish people in Britain and, throughout the reign of Charles II, everyone had been treated with due accord. His reign had been such a relief following the church-banning Cromwellian Protectorate that no one cared which religion their neighbour might prefer. But the Anglican ministers of James’s era were not so forbearing, and pressures (such as exclusion from trading opportunities) were brought to bear against those who did not conform to the Church of England doctrine.

James decided that, as King and Guardian of the Realm, he had a primary responsibility to the people before any allegiance to Parliament and the Church. On 4 April 1687, he issued a Declaration for Liberty of Conscience. It conveyed the ideal of religious tolerance and freedom for all, stating:

Conscience ought not to be constrained, nor people forced in matters of mere religion. It has ever been contrary to our inclination, as we think it is to the interests of governments, which it destroys by spoiling trade, depopulating countries and discouraging strangers. And finally, that it never obtained the end for which it was employed.

We therefore—and out of our princely care for all our loving subjects (that they may live at ease and quiet), and for the increase of trade and encouragement of strangers—have thought fit, by virtue of our royal prerogative, to issue forth this declaration of indulgence…and do straitly charge and command all our loving subjects that we do freely give them leave to meet and serve God after their own way and manner.³

It was one of the most public-spirited documentary pronouncements ever made by a reigning monarch, but it was more than the Anglican ministers could tolerate—a king who presumed to offer people freedom of religious choice. James had challenged their ultimate supremacy—he must be in league with the Catholics!

James had always been offended by the way in which the Church had abandoned his grandfather, Charles I, to the mercy of irreligious mobsters, and how the bishops had conformed so readily to Cromwell’s closure of the churches. He was no Anglican conformist, neither was he raised as a Presbyterian in the manner of his greatgrandfather James I. But, in attempting to grant an equality of conscience, he sought to repeal the restrictive Test Acts of 1673 and 1678, which bound those in public office to communion with the Church of England. His action, therefore, was seen to oppose the privileges of the Anglican clergy, as well as affording people a denominational choice over which Parliament had no control.

Much later, in 1828-9, England’s Test Acts were finally repealed in favour of Catholics (with the exception of the offices of monarch and Lord High Chancellor). Then, in 1858, the provisions were relaxed in respect of Jews, and the Scottish Test Act of 1681 was overturned in 1889. In Britain today, all religious denominations (Christian or otherwise) are afforded the right of worship according to their beliefs and conscience—precisely as King James II (VII) envisaged over 300 years ago. James was way ahead of his time, but his public popularity counted for nothing in 1688, neither did his earlier courage on the battlefields of France and Flanders, nor his years of relentless work for the British Navy. Because of his liberal attitude in religious affairs, the stage was set for James’s regnal demise.

The Revolution

What has all this to do with Freemasonry? In actual fact, everything, for when King James was sent into French exile in December 1688, the traditional masonic inheritance of the Kings of Scots went with him—as did his key masonic allies. This is one of the reasons why today the 33-degree masonic working known as the Scottish Rite (albeit, as we will see, now a contrived Scottish Rite) embodies rituals that are unfamiliar to the three degrees of English Craft Freemasonry (see page 308). For now, to complete the 17th-century picture, we need to follow on with the drama of King James.

James had two daughters by his first wife, Anne Hyde of Clarendon, as well as a young son by his second wife, the Italian noblewoman Mary d’Este de Modena. The elder of the daughters, Mary, was married to Prince William of Orange, Stadhouder (chief magistrate) of the Netherlands. It had been hoped that this alliance would calm the long-standing dispute between Britain and Holland over international trading rights but, in the event, it worked to the contrary.

Given the situation of religious unrest in Britain, William saw his opportunity to dominate Britain’s trade from within and, with approval from the Anglican Church, he put together an invasion force. Meanwhile, the Westminster Parliament in London had denied King James the funds to maintain a standing army in times of peace, so when William’s assault came he had no means of defence. What followed in this large-scale, but comparatively localized, revolution was as pictorially dramatic as any Hollywood screenplay.

With a substantial fleet of ships and around 6,000 troops, William of Orange disembarked at Torbay in south-west England on 5 November 1688. Almost immediately, he issued violent threats against James’s family. Consequently, on 21 December, James’s second wife, Mary de Modena (disguised as an Italian laundress), and their son, the infant Prince of Wales, were secreted from London by night. Taken by armed riders across the countryside to the coast in howling gales and driving sleet, they embarked a small boat for Calais. Mary then got word to her cousin, King Louis XIV of France, who sent courtiers to fetch her. Once in Paris, Mary was met by King Louis and presented with the keys to the Château de Saint Germain-en-Laye. (This royal palace had previously been the grand residence of Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots 1542-87, before she also became Queen of France in 1559.)

Meanwhile, back in London, James received an ultimatum from his son-in-law, William. It stated that if James did not give up his crown immediately, then his family would be at risk. William was unaware that Mary and the prince had already left the country. Resigned to the situation, King James made a final gesture by throwing the Great Seal of England (the constitutional device of the English monarchy) into the River Thames.⁴ He then made his way to Paris and to the Stuart Palace of St Germain, which became his primary residence thereafter.

Following James’s departure, the parliamentary House of Lords determined that since he had fled, but not formally abdicated, there remained a legal compact between the king and the people. The throne was, therefore, ‘not vacant’ (although not technically occupied either). It was suggested that a Regency (with an appointed state administrator) was the best way to preserve the kingdom during the remainder of James Stuart’s lifetime, but William of Orange made it clear that he had no intention of becoming just a Regent—neither would he consent to sharing in government. His declaration was so forceful that there was an immediate fear of war, and many thought he would seize the crown regardless. A panic conference then ensued between the Houses of Lords and Commons, resulting in a decision that per haps the throne was vacant after all.⁵

With the support of the Anglican Whig aristocracy,⁶ Prince William convened an illegal Parliament at Westminster on 26 December 1688, and the politicians were held at gunpoint to vote in respect of a dynastic change, with the majority voting in favour (although it was still a very close contest). The press later reported that ‘the Convention Parliament was in no way at liberty to vote according to conscience because Prince William’s soldiers were stationed within the House and all around the Palace of Westminster’.⁷ The press report illustrates the effect that this mil-itarily-obligated Parliament had on the monarchical structure:

King James was gone, and William was present with the Dutch Guard at Westminster to overawe, and with power to imperil the fortunes and lives of those who stood in the way of his advancement…William employed actual intimidation which resulted in majorities of one vote, in two of the most important divisions in the history of Parliament…In our time, governments have resigned when their majority over a censuring opposition has not been so small. Yet a majority of one is held to be adequate justification for a revolution involving the fundamental principle of primogeniture upon which our social fabric is based!

Not all the Church of England hierarchy in the House of Lords were in opposition to King James, however. His supporters included Archbishop Sancroft of Canterbury, and the Bishops of Bath and Wells, Ely, Gloucester, Norwich, Peterborough, Worcester, Chichester, and Chester. When James was deposed, they were all deprived of their sees and incumbencies. History has since been manipulated to suggest that James was displaced because he was a Catholic. In truth, he was deposed to guarantee power to a Parliament that was controlled by Anglican supremacists and not elected by a democratic vote of the people.

William did not get everything his own way though. He gained the crown as King William III only with the proviso that his wife, Mary (James’s daughter), held equal rights as Queen Mary II, instead of being ranked Queen Consort as is the norm. Consequently, the reign is known in history as that of William and Mary. At the same time, the 1689 Bill of Rights was introduced, stating that future British monarchs could reign only with parliamentary consent, and that MPs should be freely elected. In reality, MPs of the era were certainly not freely elected. Only a very limited number of male property-owners who enjoyed high incomes were allowed to vote, and the House of Commons was far from characteristic of the populace it was supposed to represent. The monarchical situation remains the same today in that HM Queen Elizabeth II reigns only with governmental consent as a parliamentary monarch. She is not a constitutional monarch (appointed by the provisions of a people’s written Constitution) as are other kings and queens in Europe.

The reason why the 1689 Act came into being was that, although Queen Mary was a devout Protestant, the ministers were concerned about William’s personal relationship with Rome. Holland was the chief northern province of the independent Netherlands which had previously been attached to the Holy Roman Empire, and it was known that William’s army consisted largely of Catholic mercenaries paid from the papal purse. King James II had assisted Louis XIV of France in his nation’s opposition to the Catholic empire, and it was anticipated by the Pope that, with William in charge of Britain, this support would cease, thereby weakening the French position.

On 23 September 2001, Britain’s Daily Mail newspaper ran an article entitled ‘William of Orange funded by the Pope’, explaining how documents discovered at the Vatican reveal that Pope Innocent XI had provided William with 150,000 scudi—equivalent to more than £3.5m today. This came as a surprise to the people of Northern Ireland, who always felt that William’s Orangemen (who prevented James Stuart’s restoration attempt at the Battle of the Boyne in 1690) were a Protestant army.⁸ Cecil Kilpatrick, archivist for the Orange Order, acknowledged that there had already been embarrassing indications of ties between William and the Pope. He said that in the 1930s, when they discovered Pope Innocent XI depicted with Prince William in a portrait at Stormont (the Northern Ireland Parliament), they ‘had to get rid of it’!

Despite William’s outwardly routine aspirations in what his supporters called the Glorious Revolution, the Whig politicians determined that, having facilitated his invasion, they were in a position to impose certain restrictions for the future. Notwithstanding protests from Stuart adherents on the Tory benches, they laid immediate ground rules. The Bill of Rights, with its inherent Declaration of Rights, stipulated that Parliament retained absolute rights of consent over the monarchy, the judiciary and the people. Furthermore, it was henceforth illegal for a monarch to make or amend any laws of the land. So, although William made a great show of strength at his initial Convention Parliament, the politicians maintained the upper hand by granting his kingship on a conditional basis. These measures, coupled with Queen Mary’s Protestantism, curtailed the papal ambitions, but following Mary’s childless death in 1694 the inevitable dilemma of succession arose.

To establish fully the Anglican Parliament’s supreme position over the monarchy during the balance of William’s reign, the 1701 Act of Settlement was introduced to secure the throne of Britain for Protestants alone, and the Act remains in force today—even though it was passed in the House of Commons by a majority of only one vote (118 for, and 117 against). The earlier Act of Abjuration (requiring all government officials to renounce King James) was similarly passed by one vote (193 to 192), and there was no true parliamentary majority for either of these Acts which set the constitutional scene for everything that followed concerning the operational nature of the British monarchy.

Religion and the Great Lights

The much publicized Orange Order was founded in 1795 in the wake of the Williamite revolution and the continuing aggression between Catholics and Protestants in Northern Ireland. The Order is often portrayed as being a masonic lodge in Ulster, but it is not. Indeed, the very nature of its constitution provides us with a good example as to the contrasting religious stance taken by authentic Freemasonry.

The Orange Order is pseudo-masonic in its presentation, but stipulates that its members must be Protestant Christians. There is no such requirement, nor indeed any religious stipulation in legitimate Freemasonry. Those of any religion (or none) are welcomed into the ranks, and the godhead of Creation is defined not in religious denominational terms, but as the Great Architect of the Universe. The Three Great Lights of Freemasonry (the so-called ‘furniture’, without which no lodge can be convened) include a volume of the Sacred Law. This might be the Judaeo-Christian Bible, the Koran, the Torah, the Vedas or the Zend-Avesta, depending on the predominant culture of the lodge concerned. Each and all are acceptable to attendant or visiting masons since the volume is representative of an essential belief in some form of supreme authority, by whatever definition. Outside that, discussion of religious matters is not permitted within the lodge environment.

The other Great Lights of Freemasonry are the square and compasses, representing the psyche and spirit respectively. The configuration in which these physical items are displayed within an active lodge (for instance, with one, two or neither of the compass points revealed in front of the square) denotes the degree in which the prevalent meeting is being conducted. The Three Great Lights in unison denote the extent of a mason’s qualifying achievement within an overall environment of divine consciousness, while the lodge itself is perceived as a bridge between the material and spiritual worlds.

This aspect of lodge working demonstrates that there is something more to Freemasonry than is immediately apparent from its superficial image. The masonic hierarchy is always quick to assert that Freemasonry is not a religion—and indeed it is not—but something else is indicated here: divine consciousness and a recognition of different material and spiritual worlds. If not religious, then there is clearly a spiritual aspect to consider, and the concept of ‘worlds’ is somewhat kabbalistic in nature. In fact, the levels of masonic spiritual attainment between the mundane environment and the higher levels of enlightenment are represented by Jacob’s Ladder from the Genesis story of Jacob’s dream.⁹ This was depicted in Georgian times by the Rosicrucian poet and artist, William Blake (b. 1757), in the masonic tradition of a winding staircase (see plate 2). His is also probably the best-known representation of the masonic Great Architect of the Universe—the Ancient of Days with his compasses (see plate 1). The staircase, in its final interpretation, defines seven levels of consciousness, and can be assigned to each of the seven officers of a lodge (see page 148).¹⁰

While the spiritual path in modern Freemasonry is a journey of allegory and symbolism in pursuit of self-improvement, that of the Stuart era was about the acquisition of scientific knowledge with a much bigger scale of practical involvement. Hence, current masonic teachings point members to a wealth of Renaissance literature, recommending that it should be studied, although those making the suggestions have rarely perused the material themselves. Instead, they are generally in pursuit of social recognition and personal fulfilment, not scientific accomplishment.

The fact remains that any amount of Renaissance literature in the public domain might be studied without revealing the secrets that were lost to the English masonic stage in 1688. Even though all the relevant documentation was not carried to France by King James’s supporters, a good deal was burnt and destroyed as described in the Anderson Constitutions (see page 5).

Intellectuals of the era, such as Sir Christopher Wren (b. 1632) and Sir Isaac Newton (b. 1642), did their best to work with the information to hand. They knew that masonic lore was connected with Kabbalah wisdom philosophy (an ancient tradition of enlightenment based on material and spiritual realms of consciousness). They also knew that it was related to the culture of the biblical kings, and were aware of a scholarly existence before the days of the Roman Empire. They researched the technology of the ancient Babylonians, the philosophies of Pythagoras and Plato, and the mystery traditions of old Egypt, becoming thoroughly absorbed in history beyond the bounds of biblical scripture. But for all that, and despite their own considerable scientific achievements, they also knew that they lived only in the shadow of King Solomon, whom Newton called ‘the greatest philoso pher in the world’.¹¹ Newton viewed the design of Solomon’s Temple as a paradigm for the entire future of mankind and, in referring to the great masters of old, he wrote in a letter to his Royal Society colleague, Robert Boyle, ‘There are things which only they understand.’

Newton believed that the dimensions and geometry of the Jerusalem Temple floor-plan contained clues to timescales,¹² and he used these mathematics in his calculations when developing his theory of gravitation.¹³ The Temple, he said, was the perfect microcosm of existence, and his diagrammatic Description of the Temple of Solomon is held at the Bodleian Library in Oxford. At the centre of the Temple, in the Sanctum Santorum (Holy of Holies) was kept the Ark of the Covenant, and Newton likened this heart of the Temple to a perpetual fire, with light radiating outwards in circles, while also being constantly attracted back to the centre. In line with this thinking, a point within a circle was indeed a symbol for Light in ancient Egypt and, in the lodge ritual of Freemasonry, there is a related conversation which takes place between the Worshipful Master and his Wardens concerning the lost secrets. The Master asks the Question: ‘How do you hope to find them?’ Answer: ‘By the centre’. Question: ‘What is a centre?’ Answer: ‘That point within a circle from which every part of its circumference is equidistant’. In due course we shall discover that a point within a circle float image 2 is the most important of all masonic devices.

Although the Temple of Solomon commands primary attention in modern Freemasonry, far older masonic documents than Anderson’s Constitutions suggest that, for all his great wisdom, Solomon (c. 950 BC) was the inheritor of a much more ancient tradition. From this point, we shall travel back in time to trace the history of Freemasonry as it developed through the ages. What we know at this stage, however, is that the majority of what existed in English

Reviews for The Shadow of Solomon

[porius_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

the great genie-ologists thoughts on the free and accepted masons. not as despairing as lomas and knight, larry moves in rarified circles, it appears. for instance, mike sturit.