THE ORANGE BUILDERS
It is
commonly known that, until well into the twentieth century, nearly
every mayor of Toronto, and a large proportion of its councillors,
were members of the Orange Order of Canada (William Dennison being
the last active Orangeman to serve as mayor, from 1967-1972) — with
similar representation to be found amongst the governance of those
surrounding areas that would eventually amalgamate to form the
present city as currently constituted. What this fraternal Irish
lodge of Protestant monarchists would have to do with our ruins,
however, is not so readily apparent.
In
attempting to draw some correlation between the two, we may first
note the preponderance of Celtic, and specifically Irish mythology
already touched on through our studies. We might then resort to our
faithful ploy of deconstructing the name of this organization; noting
its descendance from the Dutch-born English king William of Orange,
whose title derives from the Holy Roman Principality of Orange,
which, in turn, derives from the French city of Orange, which, then
(rather than pertaining to the fruit or the colour), ultimately
derives from Arausio, the name of a local Celtic deity, whose own
etymology likely relates to the Indo-European root *aus-1,
meaning "to shine," or *aus-2, meaning "to draw
water." While another "shining water god" would apply
well enough to much of what has already been covered, we need not go
so far back in time to ascribe some esoteric relevance to
this group.
Any
cursory glance at the symbolism and iconography employed by the Order
reveals its obvious origins in late-18th century Freemasonry: from
the sashes, gloves, and aprons worn by its members; to the fanciful
hierarchy of rites and degrees through which one's membership
progresses; to the frequent use of such tracing board imagery as the
square and compass, the skull and crossbones, and the "all-seeing
eye." One symbol of particular interest, favoured by both of
these institutions, is that of the Royal Arch; a stylized
representation of the gateway leading into Solomon's Temple, over
which is usually inscribed some slogan or motto, including one which
announces, at once, its potential affinity to our ruins — Cemented
With Love.
Irish Arches: detail of an 18th century Masonic apron from County Down (left); a 20th century Orangeist mural in Belfast (right) |
Intended
to denote the solid bonds of Orange and/or Masonic brotherhood, this
phrase also indicates the self-evident roots of the societies
themselves, which are to be found, of course, in the ancient
profession of masonry. Who better, then, to hold the secrets of our
enigmatic ruins than those who have, allegedly, since the time of
Solomon, been keepers of the secrets — both practical and spiritual
— inherent to the very science of architecture and construction?
Indeed, the similarities are not limited to the mere products of
their craft, and, as the French Masonic scholar Daniel Béresniak
writes in his Symbols of Freemasonry, the lineage of their
mysteries, as with our ruins, may be even older than they seem to let
on:
In
the Cooke manuscript (1410), one of the oldest known texts
which deals with Freemasonry, we read that: 'at the time of the
construction of the Temple of Solomon, begun by King David ...
Solomon employed 24,000 Masons ... Solomon confirmed the rights which
his father David had bestowed upon the Masons.' ... However, the date
of the construction King Solomon's temple has not always been the key
date in the Freemasons' cosmology. This central role was once given
to the Tower of Babel. The Regius manuscript, which predates
Cooke by twenty years, cites King Nemrod, the builder of that
famous tower, as 'the first and most excellent master.' He it was,
and not King Solomon, who gave the Masons their first 'charge,' rules
of conduct and professional code.
"Nemrod,"
of course, is the Nimrod of before — that centaur, "wild
hunter," Cronos-cum-Lucifer figure, with ties, through Babel, to
Ea's Eridhu and Marduk's Babylon — and whose name, we'll recall,
means "shining light." Béresniak continues:
For
a long time both King Solomon and King Nemrod played a part in the
tradition. A Masonic text known as the Thistle manuscript, of
1756, says that Nemrod 'created the Masons' and 'gave them their
signs and terms' ... Speculative Masons [as opposed to actual
working, or Operative Masons], who were concerned with social
respectability and had no desire to threaten the establishment,
finally rejected the 'Legend of the Craft' which honoured the Tower
of Babel, a pagan edifice constructed in open defiance to heaven.
Instead of the Promethean or Faustian Nemrod, they preferred 'our
wise King Solomon.'
Such
oppositional intrigue, and paradoxical patronage, only strengthens in
relation to our previous studies as the foundations of Freemasonry,
whatever the case, would seem to rest upon ruins, and focus around
thresholds: whether they be Nimrod's Tower of "Babel" —
from the Akkadian bāb + ili, meaning "gate of
God" — left abandoned by God himself through the confusion of
its builders speech; or whether they be Solomon's Temple, with its
Royal Arch, destroyed by "Nebuchadnezzar" — Babylonian
for a "protector of the boundary" (nabu + kudurri
+ usur) — he of the Ishtar Gate, protected itself by
Marduk's Mushhushshu dragon.
Nebuchadnezzar, on a 6th century BC stele, oversees the oldest known depiction of the Tower of Babel |
This
somewhat schizophrenic history, part sacred part profane, might also
be read into the motto above. While their purported antiquity could
have allowed the Masons to grow along with the very development of
"concrete" itself (a word which literally means "to
grow together," via the Latin com + crescere), we
will note that "cement" arrives from the Latin caedere
meaning "to cut down," "beat," "hew,"
or "slay," from the same root as the affix -cide,
meaning, of course, "to murder" or "kill" — and
murder does figure into Masonic lore. Béresniak pushes the
roots of Masonry even further back in biblical time by observing
"'East of Eden' is where Cain was married, built a town and
founded a dynasty of creators. In the east is where the sun rises,
and where the first murderer became the first builder." He
then adds that, ""the murder of Hiram, the architect of
Solomon's temple, is the central legend of Freemasonry."
Every Master Mason "has lived through the passion of
Hiram," who, as the story goes, chose death before divulging
the secret password of the Masons, a word now lost in time with him.
What, then, are we to make of the credo Cemented With Love? An
act of sacrifice, perhaps? But of whom, and to what?
By
passage through that motto, beneath the Royal Arch, we now arrive at
yet another staple of our explorations; that ever recurrent theme of
Yorkshire — for the Royal Arch degree is the culminating step in
what is traditionally known as York Rite Masonry. The name of this
rite refers to a professed set of Masonic constitutions granted
during a general assembly of Masons at York in 926 AD. Though of
dubious authenticity, these remain the oldest attested records in the
history of Freemasonry (even being alluded to in the aforementioned
Regius manuscript), and serve as part of the basis for the
United Grand Lodge which oversees Masonic activity across Canada. In
name, of course, they also serve to connect Masonry even more with
our local toponymy, and thus even more with our ruins.
We
should note as well that, among the North American branches of York
Rite Masonry, the Royal Arch is not only the ultimate degree of the
Master Mason, but also the first step in a series of even higher
appendant rites including Cryptic Masonry and Knight Templar
Masonry, which counts among its degrees the "Illustrious Order of
the Red Cross," bringing us back to the East and West Don ruins via St. George and Spenser. While Freemasonry is generally non-denominational,
requiring of its members only the vague belief in a "higher
power," the post-Arch echelons of York Rite Masonry apply
exclusively to Christian Masons. We will now observe of the strictly
Protestant Christian Orange Order that the first stage of their own
extra-organizational rites is that of the "Royal Arch Purple"
(recalling the relations of purple with red), followed by the
consummate rite of "Royal Black Preceptory" whose emblem
is a red cross encircled by a golden crown, which also pertains to
their highest degree. Here again we are drawn back to Spenser, whose sympathies for the Anglo-Protestant cause in Ireland (having spent most of the latter half of his life on the island) are well documented and prefigure much future Orangist sentiment and ideology (refer here to his infamous tract A View of the Present State of Ireland).
If
further parallels need be drawn between Masonry, Orangemen, and our
ruins, we might next return to that symbol of the "all-seeing
eye" — a favoured topic for conspiracists of every ilk, and a
likely vestige of the solar Eye of Horus, or Ra, which we then might
deign to connect to our own "red king" through Hrwyfy. The
Masons, in particular, would seem especially concerned with occular
themes of vision, eyes, and light itself. Béresniak cites the
sun and moon (the two celestial eyes of Hrwyfy), along with the Lodge
Master, as the "three lesser lights" of Masonry. The "three
greater lights" are listed as "the volume of the sacred
law, the square, and the compasses," with the first being
"the Bible, open either at the Book of Kings or at the first
page of the Gospel According to Saint John which reads: 'In the
beginning was the Word.'"
C.E.
Patterson, in Holman's Masonic Edition of the Bible,
elaborates on this subject, stating that "Light is a symbol
of knowledge. It is the ultimate desire of every Mason to be well
informed on Masonry, and may every Mason strive constantly for Light,
and especially for Light Eternal!" This is then followed by
a reference to the forbidden fruit of Genesis 3:5 — "For
God doth know that in the day ye eat thereof, then your eyes shall be
opened, and ye shall be as gods, knowing good and evil" —
hinting, perhaps, at some sympathy for the serpent, or condonance of
original sin. In fact, among the Mason's many emblems is the
so-called Brazen Serpent, the caduceus-like object erected by Moses
to protect the wandering Israelites from snake bites in the desert.
Béresniak, in dissecting the Hebrew origins of this object's
name, then connects this serpent back to Eden:
The
brazen serpent appears at the twenty-fifth degree of the Ancient and
Accepted Scottish Rite, the so-called Knight of the Brazen Serpent.
To understand these words, it is enough to listen to their sound. The
root letters nun, kaph, sîn give the word
nahash, meaning serpent, and also nahash, meaning omen
... The first appearance of a serpent, or snake in the Bible is in
the third chapter of Genesis. He predicts what will happen when Adam
and Eve have tasted the fruit from the forbidden tree. It should be
remembered that the first verse of this chapter says 'Now, the snake
was the most naked of all the wild animals', and that in nearly every
official translation the word naked (aroum) is wrongly
translated as shrewd or subtle. Its nakedness represents the fact
that it hides nothing, that it shows its true nature, that it does
not lie.
Returning, then, back to the serpent of Moses, "brazen," of course,
refers to brass, and thus to certain other themes. As Béresniak
explains:
Derived
from this root is nahoshet, with the same spelling plus the
feminising taw suffix, which means copper, as well as brass
and bronze, two alloys whose main ingredient is copper. The legendary
serpent of brass is called Nahash nahoshet (Numbers 21, 9)
and, was later to become an object of worship by the Israelites, who
called it Nehushtan and made offerings of incense to it ... It
was kept by the Israelites after the first temple had been built. It
was placed in the courtyard of the temple and the people, believing
that it could heal the sick, sacrificed animals to it.
We are
reminded once more of Mushhushshu and Mishipeshu, of Lucifer through
Venus, and the impact of concrete. We might then consider the
orange-ish hue of copper (the chromatic melding of red with gold), but we also have here the adoration
of a "false idol," with the serpent now "brazen"
in the sense of shameless impiety. Again, we seems to waver between
the righteous and the blasphemous, and it is just such ambiguity
which has long fed suggestions of Satanic witchcraft, Illuminati
sacrilege, and the various other dark complaints commonly levelled
against Masons by critics and consumers of popular counterculture. In
some instances, though, such allegiances seem all but explicitly
stated by the likes of the American Mason Albert Pike in this oft
quoted passage from his Morals and Dogma of the Ancient and
Accepted Scottish Rite of Freemasonry:
The
Masonic Religion should be, by all of us initiates of the high
degrees, maintained in the purity of the Luciferian Doctrine. If
Lucifer were not God, would Adonay whose deeds prove his cruelty,
perdify and hatred of man, barbarism and repulsion for science, would
Adonay and his priests, calumniate him? Yes, Lucifer is God, and
unfortunately Adonay is also god. For the eternal law is that there
is no light without shade, no beauty without ugliness, no white
without black, for the absolute can only exist as two gods: darkness
being necessary to the statue, and the brake to the locomotive. Thus,
the doctrine of Satanism is a heresy; and the true and pure
philosophical religion is the belief in Lucifer, the equal of Adonay;
but Lucifer, God of Light and God of Good, is struggling for humanity
against Adonay, the God of Darkness and Evil.
Here,
likely writing under the influence of the contemporary French
occultist author Éliphas Lévi, Pike relates his own
practice to Lévi's peculiar brand of Gnostic Hermeticism,
equating the biblical Hebrew lord Adonai with the demiurge of
previous mention and earlier centuries. As we have already come to
understand, his is the light-as-wisdom-bearing Lucifer,
separate from Satan "the enemy," or the equally adversarial
God of the Old Testament who casts shadows of ignorance over one's
eyes. While such dealings with Gnosticism and "heroic incest"
should, by precedent, be disqualifying to our search, the sheer
amount of apparent interrelations between Masonry, Orangemen, and the
course of our studies would seem to demand some continued discussion.
A
short and inexhaustive survey of some remaining interrelations would
include the Masonic "hoodwink," of related significance —
a blindfolding device used in numerous rituals of transition from
ignorance/darkness into knowledge/light. "It is a symbol of
secrecy, darkness, and silence," writes Patterson. Yet, it
is also "a mystical darkness in which the mysteries of our
art should be preserved from the unhallowed gaze of the profane."
Oddly, included within Patterson's "Index of Curious Facts"
are various biblical references to the act of winking (with the eye),
each cited as being a sign of evil or mischief. We'll now recall all
of our numerous characters found totally blind, or missing an eye, as
if locked in the act of some permanent "wink."
From
here we will note the ubiquitous "Mosaic Pavement" which
"has black and white squares like a chessboard," and
"can be seen on the floor in the centre of the lodge where
its role is to make us think about opposites, how they contradict and
complement each other," recounting, now, our own business
with both chess and with opposites. We shall also observe a common
concern with pillars or columns, both standing and ruined, coming in
pairs, or in threes, or all by themselves. We briefly mentioned the
Jachin and Boaz pillars of Solomon's Temple (meaning
"established" and "with strength," respectively)
in connection with our Yellow Creek pillars, which themselves came in
threes, and in pairs. These also relate to the Royal Arch, and, by
name, to various other motifs. From Béresniak:
The
Hebrew word for pillar is amoud (plural amoudim), from
the root letters ayin, mêm and daleth
which means 'to stand, to be upright, to be situated there.' As for
the symbolism of the letters, to which the cabbalists attached a
great importance because they give life to the meaning of the words,
it goes as follows: ayin is the eye, mêm is the
origin, water and mother, and daleth is the door.
The
material and composition of these pillars, or of any construction, is
also of a certain symbolic import. There are shades of alchemical
theory and Arthurian questing placed upon stone through such means as
the cryptic Masonic acronym V.I.T.R.I.O.L. — visita interiora
terrae, rectificando invenies occultam lapidem — "visit
the centre of the earth and by rectifying you shall find the hidden
stone." Here, with limestone in mind, we read further from
Béresniak "The ancient English texts refer to
'free-stone', a soft chalky rock which builders used for carving
figures ... According to certain authors, the etymology of the word
Freemason is 'free-stone Mason.'" Then, with specific
structures in mind (think Avoca, Roxborough, Curity, etc.), we read
of the dichotomy between "cut" and "rough" stone:
"Rough ashlar, or unhewn stone, is the raw material to be
worked on. Stone symbolises human beings in their natural state,
before they work on themselves through introspection. All writers
agree on this view of rough ashlar as imperfect humanity."
Cut stone, meanwhile, "is seen as a 'becoming.' It is an act
which recognises the need for change. The uninitiated are full of
metals that speak for them. When rid of these metals, the initiated
can speak for themselves." We then, however, read of
Tubal-Cain, last descendant of the murderous Cain, "whose
name means 'the blacksmith of the Universe'," and who
""has a skill which can accomplish what knowledge only
promises, ripping open the belly of the earth, extracting metals,
forging tools and everything else he might want and need in order to
become a king." What, now, to make of our reinforced
concrete with metals inserted back into "stone" —
humanity's "natural state" (with regards to Neumann)
— made unhewn or smooth through chosen casting, but always left
"rough" through gradual ruination?
One
other symbol of note, specific to the Orange Order, is that of a red-coated King
William astride a white steed. So wedded, in fact, are these two in
imagery that they assume near-centaurian coalescence (perhaps a nod
to the Masonic Nimrod; or to the Irish Ossian/Enbarr, recalling
Keane's "almost identical names of Centaurs appearing among
our Irish Saints"). The whiteness of his mount is, of
course, quite reminiscent as well (recalling Pegasus and other
heavenly mounts; the limestone geoglyphs of Wiltshire; the
horse/dragon of the invading Saxons; or the "white horse"
of Leucippus, and hence the "white light" of
Lucifer) — but we needn't rehash all of our prior equine
references here, be they white of coat or otherwise. Let us simply
introduce one more to our stable, noting that, as the Protestant
"saviour" who delivered Britain and Ireland from Catholic
rule, William is often equated by his followers with the Saviour of
Revelation 19:
And
I saw heaven opened, and behold a white horse; and he that sat upon
him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he doth judge
and make war. His eyes were as a flame of fire, and on his head were
many crowns; and he had a name written, that no man knew, but he
himself. And he was clothed with a vesture dipped in blood: and his
name is called The Word of God. And the armies which were in heaven
followed him upon white horses, clothed in fine linen, white and
clean. And out of his mouth goeth a sharp sword, that with it he
should smite the nations: and he shall rule them with a rod of iron:
and he treadeth the winepress of the fierceness and wrath of Almighty
God.
Here
Christ is presented as the many crowned "king," stained
"red" with blood, fire, and the grapes of wrath (perhaps
with some thought, here, toward the horse-like Silenos who, by name,
treads himself in a "wine-trough" as well). Of
significance, too, is that unknown name of the "Word of God,"
thinking back to those words from the Book of Kings and the
Gospel of Saint John, to Hiram's secret password, or even to
the scattered speech resulting from Nimrod's cursed tower. Language,
often hidden, would seem of great importance to these orders — as
it has been throughout our own investigations — but, perhaps, not
so much in the literal sense. Symbolism, of course, is language
concealed, language replaced, and a language itself. As Béresniak
once again expounds:
Symbolism
looks at the world as if it were a text. It involves thinking about
thought and speaking about language. As its etymology suggests, a
symbol is an image made up of various elements in such a way that the
whole represents more than the sum of its parts. The first degree
initiation ritual, that of Entered Apprentice, states: 'Here, all is
symbol.' This statement describes the path to follow: 'Here, we learn
to look at the symbolic nature of everything that exists.' In other
words, everything should be seen as a metaphor.
As we contemplate the symbolic nature of everything uncovered along our path, let us look to one last potential symbol, noting the natural
setting of our ruined sites while we then consider the following:
There
is a degree at which the Freemason works with nature. The walls of
the temple are decorated with fields, mountains and forests, rivers
and waterfalls. At this degree, fresh questions are asked concerning
everything that has been learnt about Masonic symbols, and the aim of
this work is, as the ritual puts it, 'to search for the truth.'
In
searching for the truth behind these ruins we have asked many
questions, and surely many more remain. We have drawn many
connections — perhaps more than were needed — and some likely
were not connections at all. At the same time we've certainly left
some lose threads, but, for now, we must leave them to hang. It
is time to seek answers from all that we've learnt...even if our final
answer is that we have none.