Читать книгу: «The Shadow of Solomon: The Lost Secret of the Freemasons Revealed»
LAURENCE
GARDNER
BESTSELLING AUTHOR OF BLOODLINE OF THE HOLY GRAIL
THE SHADOW OF
SOLOMON
THE LOST SECRET OF THE FREEMASONS REVEALED
The mason poor that builds the lordly halls,
Dwells not in them; they are for high degree.
His cottage is compact in paper walls,
And not with brick or stone, as others be.
Edward de Vere, Earl of Oxford, 1573
Table of Contents
Cover Page
Title Page
Epigraph
Introduction
PART I
1 Ancient Secrets
2 Masonic Origins
3 Royal Society
4 Legacy of Invention
5 Power and Politics
6 Imperial Conquest
PART II
7 Knights of the Temple
8 Hiramic Legend
9 The Transition
10 Rosslyn
11 Mysterious Science
12 The Temple of Light
13 The Lost Word
PART III
14 Anti-Masonry
15 The Tudor Stage
16 Guilds and Traditions
17 Into America
18 Debates and Monuments
19 The Royal Art
20 Discovering the Secret
NOTES AND REFERENCES
MASONIC AND MONARCHICAL TIMELINE
BIBLIOGRAPHY
INDEX
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
About the Author
Also by Laurence Gardner
Copyright
About the Publisher
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 
. 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.
