Two Crowns for America, Page 27

  It was Justin who answered for Lafayette from the Frenchman’s left side, naked sword in hand.

  “A poor blind candidate, who has long been desirous of being brought from darkness to light. He begs to have and receive part of the benefit of this right worshipful Lodge, dedicated to St. John, as all true fellows and brothers have done who have gone this way before him.”

  “Is this of your own free will and accord?” Washington asked.

  “Answer, ‘It is,’ ” Simon prompted in Lafayette’s ear.

  “It is,” the marquis repeated.

  “Is he duly and truly prepared?” Washington demanded.

  “He is,” Simon replied.

  “Is he worthy and well qualified?”

  “He is.”

  “Is he of lawful age, and properly vouched for?”

  “He is.”

  “By what further right does he expect to obtain admission into this Lodge of Entered Apprentice Masons?” Washington demanded.

  “By being freeborn and well reported,” came Simon’s reply.

  “Let him enter.”

  The door opened wider, but as Simon led Lafayette forward a few steps, the prince stepped into place directly before him, to set one of the points of the compasses against the candidate’s bared breast. Lafayette bit back a faint gasp and flinched slightly, but Justin’s blade was at the center of his back, forbidding retreat. Simon could feel the energy course briefly through Lafayette’s body and steadied him as the prince softly asked, “Do you feel anything?”

  What Lafayette had felt, poised within the triangle of three of Saint-Germain’s most trusted agents, was more than just the bite of steel at breast and back, but he only nodded jerkily and murmured, “I do.”

  “Then mind well that you hold this in remembrance for the future,” the prince replied, “lest ever you should forget your oath to guard the secrets of Freemasonry.”

  As the prince stepped back, withdrawing the compasses to replace them upon the Bible that now lay open before the Master, Simon conducted Lafayette into the center of the room and bade him kneel to receive the benefit of a prayer. The marquis swayed a little as Simon helped him down, and seemed grateful for a steadying hand on his shoulder. Three raps from the Master’s gavel brought all present to their feet while the prayer was intoned, after which the General came to lay one hand lightly on Lafayette’s head.

  “In whom do you put your trust?” he asked.

  “In God,” came Lafayette’s answer at Simon’s prompting.

  “Your trust being in God, your faith is well founded,” Washington replied, taking the candidate’s right hand in his. “Rise up and follow your leader,” he continued, placing Lafayette’s right hand in Simon’s and urging him to his feet. “And fear no danger.”

  As Simon then led the blindfolded Lafayette three times around the Lodge room, Washington returned to his place in the east to take up the Volume of Sacred Law and read from Psalm 133.

  “Behold how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity! It is like the precious ointment upon the head, that ran down upon the beard, even Aaron’s beard: that went down to the skirts of his garments. As the dew of Hermon, and as the dew that descended upon the mountains of Zion: for there the Lord commanded the blessing, even life for evermore.”

  Simon and his charge finished their third circuit at about the same time Washington finished reading, but Simon then led the candidate back to the Junior Warden’s station in the south, where he was instructed to repeat the alarm of three distinct knocks that he had given before. As had been done at the door, Simon and the Junior Warden then exchanged the same litany of questions and answers. Simon repeated the process twice more, with the prince in the west and then with Andrew in the east, behind the Worshipful Master.

  “Who comes there?”

  “A poor blind candidate, who has long been desirous of being brought from darkness to light …”

  “Is this of his own free will and accord?”

  “It is.…”

  But when Simon and Andrew had concluded the third catechism of questions and answers, Washington took up a new line of questioning.

  “Whence came you?” he inquired.

  “From the west,” came Simon’s reply, speaking for Lafayette.

  “Which way are you traveling?”

  “To the east.”

  “And why do you leave the west and travel to the east?” Washington persisted.

  “In search of light.”

  “Since this is the case,” Washington replied, now addressing himself directly to Simon, “you will conduct him back to the west and teach him to approach the east, the place of light, with one regular and upright step to the first step of Masonry, his body erect, his feet forming the right angle of an oblong square. He will then kneel in due form to take upon himself the solemn oath and Obligation of an Entered Apprentice Mason.”

  Dutifully Simon conducted the candidate to a point between the door and the altar and instructed him in the appropriate steps, concluding with Lafayette kneeling on his left knee before the altar, his right knee forming a right angle and his slip-shod right heel resting flat on the wooden floor. But after laying the open Volume of Sacred Law in Lafayette’s left hand, with the square and compasses atop it, Simon reached into his own coat to withdraw a small leather-bound Bible with silver mountings at the corners, and a heavy silver clasp.

  “With your permission, Worshipful, the candidate has asked that he may be allowed to make his obligation upon this Bible, which was his father’s.”

  Before Washington could get a clear look at the smaller book, Simon had opened it and slipped it between the larger Bible and the square and compasses that Lafayette was steadying with his right hand. Washington looked somewhat startled at the unexpected addition to the ritual paraphernalia, but Simon’s next words precluded inquiry unless he wished to interrupt the ritual.

  “Worshipful, the candidate is placed at the altar in due form to receive the solemn oath and Obligation of an Entered Apprentice Mason,” Simon announced.

  Though emotion flickered briefly on the General’s face, personal uncertainty gave way to duty. At the signal of three sharp raps from his gavel, the assembled brethren came quietly to surround Lafayette and witness his oath. In the expectant silence the General’s voice was quiet but sure.

  “Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette, you are kneeling at the altar of Masonry for the first time in your life. Before we may communicate to you the mysteries of Masonry, you must take an obligation that you will never reveal the secrets of the Order. I assure you, as a man, as a Mason, and as Master of this Lodge, that it will not interfere in any way with the duty you owe to your country or your Maker. If you are willing to proceed, you will repeat your Christian and surname, and say after me: I—”

  “I, Marie Joseph Paul Yves Roch Gilbert du Motier de Lafayette.”

  “Of my own free will and accord—”

  “Of my own free will and accord …”

  His voice growing stronger with each line he repeated, Lafayette made his Obligation in a clear voice lightly tinged with his French accent, vowing without reservation never to reveal the mysteries of Freemasonry by any means whatsoever, and invoking upon himself most terrible penalties should he fail in this endeavor. “So help me God, and keep me steadfast, in the due performance of the same.”

  “You will now kiss the book on which your hand rests,” Washington prompted.

  Lafayette did so, bending to press his lips to both books; but before the General could get more than a fleeting look at the smaller one, Simon whisked it back into his coat. Though Washington affected not to be concerned, a darkling expression briefly rippled across his face.

  “In your present situation,” he said to Lafayette, “what do you most desire?”

  “Light,” came Lafayette’s firm reply at Simon’s prompting.

  “Brethren, will you stretch forth your hands and assist in bringing this candidate fro
m darkness to true Masonic light?” Washington said, nodding to Simon to remove the hoodwink. “ ‘And God said, Let there be light, and there was light.’ ”

  The hoodwink was removed at the word “light,” and those around Lafayette simultaneously clapped their hands once and stamped their feet.

  The marquis blinked in some astonishment as he was restored to light, listening a little dazedly as Washington then proceeded to instruct him in the symbolism of what lay before him on the altar, and to raise up the newly obligated Mason by the grip and word of an Entered Apprentice and instruct him in the Due-Guard, or Sign. After Lafayette had demonstrated his understanding of these things, he was escorted outside to restore his clothing, shortly reappearing in full uniform. When he had returned thanks for the honor done him in making him a Mason and admitting him to the Lodge, Washington then summoned him to the northeast corner of the Lodge, at his own right hand, to be invested with the symbol of his new status.

  “It is the emblem of innocence and the badge of a Mason,” Washington said, letting the prince tie the plain white lambskin apron around Lafayette’s waist, with the flap turned up. “It has been worn by kings, princes, and potentates of the earth who have never been ashamed to wear it. It is more honorable than the diadems of kings, or the pearls of princesses, when worthily worn. It is more ancient than the Golden Fleece, or Roman Eagle; more honorable than the Star and Garter, or any other order that can be conferred on you at this, or any other time, except it be by a just and lawfully constituted Lodge.”

  Following further instruction regarding the working tools of the Entered Apprentice, Washington rose in his place to close the Lodge.

  “If there is no more business before the Lodge, we shall proceed to close. Brother Junior, what is the last as well as the first care of congregated Masons?” he said to that officer.

  “To see the Lodge close tyled, Worshipful,” came the reply.

  “Attend to that part of your duty and inform the Tyler that we are about to close this Lodge of Entered Apprentice Masons.”

  The officer obeyed, conferring briefly with Justin and then turning to report.

  “We are tyled, Worshipful.”

  “How tyled?” came Washington’s query.

  “With secrecy and brotherly love; also a brother of this degree without the door, with a drawn sword in his hand.”

  “His duty there?”

  “To keep off all cowans and eavesdroppers, to see that none pass or repass but such as are duly qualified and have permission from the chair.”

  Two raps from Washington’s gavel brought the rest of the officers to their feet, after which they recited the duties of their offices in turn. It was the prince, as Senior Warden, who finally related the Master’s duties.

  “As the sun rises in the east to open and adorn the day, so rises the Worshipful Master in the east, to open or close his Lodge.”

  “After that manner, so do I,” Washington said, rising in his place. “It is my will and pleasure that this Lodge of Entered Apprentice Masons be now closed, and stand closed until our next regular communication, unless convened by some sudden emergency. Attend to the charge, brethren: ‘May the blessing of heaven rest upon us, and all regular Masons; may brotherly love prevail, and every moral and social virtue cement us. So mote it be. Amen.’ ”

  He then ordered, “Attend to the signs, brethren,” and responded to the signs that all others present gave him. And finally he addressed the prince again.

  “Brother Senior, how do Masons meet?” he asked.

  “On the level, Worshipful,” the prince replied.

  “And Brother Junior, how do Masons part?”

  “On the square,” came the reply.

  “So let us meet, and so let us part, in the name of the Lord,” Washington responded. “Our work being concluded, it is now my happy privilege not to order but to invite that this Lodge be called from labor to refreshment, that we may greet our new brother in more festive spirit. I am pleased to inform you that Brother Lafayette has provided several bottles of captured Madeira for our delectation. They await us back at headquarters. I invite you to repair thereto, where I shall join you directly. Colonel Wallace, please stay a moment, if you would.”

  Simon could guess what the summons was about, but he feigned nonchalance as he took off his apron and began packing away the accoutrements of Lodge. Two of Washington’s younger aides took charge of Lafayette and laughingly directed him in application of a damp mop to the Tracing Board chalked on the floor—the traditional first task of any newly obligated Apprentice.

  As the others also divested themselves of the ornaments of Lodge and drifted out, Lafayette surrounded by a dozen well-wishers, Simon extinguished the three candles that were the three Lesser Lights and set them aside to cool, lingering then over wrapping up the square and compasses and putting them into their protective bag. Washington thanked Andrew for attending and conferred briefly with the last of his aides to leave, promising to join them shortly in his quarters, then returned to collect his Bible from Simon and slip it into the valise where his apron and Master’s jewel already resided.

  “Brother Wallace, I should like to see that other Bible,” he said, turning to face Simon squarely. “Was there some reason I was not informed ahead of time that there would be an addition to the ritual?”

  There was, but a verbal explanation would not be half so effective a demonstration. Reaching into the breast of his uniform coat, Simon produced Lafayette’s Bible, careful to keep it mostly shielded with his hands as he held it out to the General. Without thinking, Washington stretched out his hands to receive it—and gasped as he felt its weight and his eyes beheld it, eyes closing then as he swayed slightly on his feet, his face going white beneath his neatly powdered hair.

  “Steady, sir,” Simon murmured, seizing his upper arm and guiding him back a few steps until the backs of his knees made contact with a chair. “Sit down slowly. That’s fine. Take a deep breath now and let it out completely.…”

  To his relief Washington obeyed, his fingers relaxing their death grip on the book as he exhaled. After a moment he opened his eyes almost fearfully to look at what lay between his hands, at length flicking back the silver clasp to open the book randomly at several different spots, as if to verify that it was, indeed, a Bible.

  “You said that this belonged to Lafayette’s father?” he said after a moment.

  “So he claims,” Simon replied.

  “This is—the Bible that was in my dream, Colonel. I remember the clasp, and the silver corners on the cover—the filigree work. But I hadn’t even met Lafayette then.”

  “You’re asking how you could have seen this particular Bible,” Simon said, “and I can only answer that I don’t know. However, I do know that this is the Bible intended for the ultimate ritual, just as I know that Lafayette is to be a part of that ritual. This, tonight, was part of his preparation for that role, since we have already established that everyone who appeared in your dream was a Freemason. I cannot tell you more than that at this time, because I do not know myself.”

  “And how do you find out these things?” Washington whispered, a thumb absently caressing the filigree of one of the corners. “I allow you to direct me, but it becomes clear that you, too, are being directed. By whom? And what interest does he have in what is unfolding in these United States?”

  “I may not tell you that,” Simon replied. “I can but assure you that his interest is benign, and his perspective larger than ours.”

  “How can I believe that?” the General whispered. “You are asking me to accept on faith what concerns the lives of thousands under my command, my care. Who are you, Simon Wallace, and whom do you serve?”

  “I told you before, when we first spoke on this matter: I am an instrument of The Great Architect of the Universe, directed by His Master of the Works. And I give you my word, as a man and as a Master Mason, that nothing I or He shall require of you will interfere in any way with your duty to tho
se thousands under your command, or to this country, or to our Maker. I gave you my bond three years ago to assist you in unlocking the guidance of your dream, and you gave me yours, of faith and trust. I have not withdrawn my part of the Obligation, and I do not believe I have given you cause to withdraw yours. Remember now the progress we have made.”

  As he lightly touched one of the hands clasping Lafayette’s Bible, Washington’s breath caught softly in his throat and he blinked, a look of amazement coming across the craggy features.

  “I remember,” he said. “We have made progress. But—how is this possible? You are a sorcerer!”

  “No, not a sorcerer,” Simon replied with a smile. “My Master works upon a Greater Tracing Board, and mine are the greater tools with which he entrusts me on occasion. To put things from one’s mind for the moment can be a blessing, as you have cause to know. Whenever there is need, I can bring back the memories.

  “But now there is need to put the memories from mind again. Our brethren are waiting. And one dear to you and to our cause has more reason than he realizes to celebrate what has happened tonight.”

  “You mean Gilbert?” the General murmured tentatively.

  Simon nodded. “His, too, is a great destiny, though never so great as these days when he serves at your side. He truly is like a son to you, isn’t he?”

  As Washington slowly nodded, Simon quietly took the marquis’s Bible from him and slipped it into his valise, then held out his right hand to the General.

  “We must go, General. You remembered when there was need, and you shall remember again. Another piece is set, and another time of waiting is upon us. Take my hand now, on the bond you gave me.”

  Washington’s handclasp was firm in his, without further hesitation, and no inkling of concern clouded the General’s brow as he and Simon shortly quit the room above the tavern and made their way back to headquarters to join the celebration.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The winter settling in at Middlebrook proved harsh, but not nearly so grueling as the previous one at Valley Forge. Shortly after Lafayette’s Masonic initiation, Washington betook himself and key members of his staff to Philadelphia to meet with a committee of Congress and consult on plans for the war in the coming year. There he met Martha, en route from Mount Vernon, so the couple spent part of the ensuing fortnight in celebration of the Christmas season before returning to the more cramped and Spartan conditions at the Middlebrook camp.