textfiles/magazines/STB/stb-1933-11.txt

SHORT TALK BULLETIN - Vol.XI   November, 1933   No.11

WOMEN FREEMASONS

by: Unknown

The romances of the Ancient Craft include a number of stories of 
women who are said to have become Freemasons, in one or another.  The 
majority are hoaxes, legends or pure fiction.
For a woman to become a real Freemasons is as impossible as for a man 
to become a mother, a leopard to change his spots.  A female duly 
elected, properly prepared, initiated and obligated, passed and 
raised, who signed the by-laws of a regularly constituted lodge would 
not be a freemason, as all which had been done with her would be 
entirely illegal, and one illegally initiated is not a Freemason.  
The Third of the Old Charges, foundation law of the Craft, states 
emphatically:  “The persons admitted Members of a Lodge must be good 
and true Men, free-born and of mature and discreet age; no bondman, 
no women, or immoral or scandalous Men, but of good report.”
It would, however, be extraordinary if at some time, in some place, 
some woman was not illegally given a Masonic degree, or obligated as 
a Freemason.  That the instances which rest on anything more reliable 
than tradition and heresay are so few is a remarkable tribute to the 
fidelity of Masons.  It is a point worth noting that the number of 
even possible true instances is much less than the known number of 
exposes of Masonry written and published by foresworn brethren.
Best known, most often quoted, and most credible of all histories of 
alleged “women Freemasons” is that of the Honorable Elizabeth St. 
Ledger, later Mrs. Richard Aldworth, of Ireland.  Even about her 
strange story has clustered a curious collection of myths and 
legends, which have required some untangling at the hands of skilled 
Masonic historians.
According to the most reliable accounts, Arthur St. Ledger, 1st Baron 
Kilmayden and Viscount Doneraile, with his sons and a few intimate 
friends, were in the habit (as was the custom in those early days 
when Freemasonry was closing the era of Operative and opening an era 
of Sepculative Masonry), of opening a Lodge and conducting  its 
ceremonies in the family mansion at Doneraile Court, County Cork, 
Ireland.
When Elizabeth was seventeen years old, the old house underwent 
repairs, including removal and replacement of a partition between the 
library and a back room , in which the Lodge meetings were held.
One afternoon Miss St. Ledger, in the library, heard voices.  With 
perhaps pardonable feminine curiosity she listened at an opening 
between the bricks of the replaced partition.  Not hearing 
sufficiently well, she removed a loose brick and obtained an 
unobstructed view and complete audition of what occurred.	
She looked and listened for some time before she realized what she 
saw and heard.  There seems to be no question of her gentle breeding, 
education or high mindedness; when she understood she  became terror-
struck and fled from the room, intending forever to conceal her 
guilty knowledge.
Her way out, however, was barred by the Lodge Tiler, her father’s 
butler.  She screamed and fainted..
The Tiler summoned the Master; the young woman recovered 
consciousness, and confessed to what she had discovered.  The Lodge 
considered what should be done, and finally decided to have her take 
part in ceremonies similar to those she had witnessed.  Accordingly, 
she was initiated and passed a Fellowcraft.  At this time (1710) the 
third degree, or what the was the “Master’s Part,” was not a separate 
ceremony, so that, granting the story be true. Miss St. Ledger 
received all the light her father’s Lodge had to give.
Too much corroborative detail surrounds this old tale to pass it by 
as apocryphal. There is today extant in the possession of Lady 
Castletown, Upper Ossory, a painting of Miss St. Ledger in her 
Masonic Regalia.  Two Jewels she wore are preserved, one in the 
possession of the family, the other held by Lodge No.1, Cork.  
Contemporary accounts credit her with acting as Master of the Lodge, 
and riding in Public Masonic processions, clad in Masonic regalia; 
these are doubtless mere inventions.  It is not on record that she 
was permitted to attend any meeting of the Lodge except that in which 
she was initiated and passed.
Nor has the Lodge been identified; yet this is not surprising, since 
the date (1710) is prior to the formation of the Irish Grand Lodge, 
and seven years before the formation of the Mother Grand Lodge in 
London.  It is supposed that her father received his Masonry in 
London, and brought it home with him, in the easy custom of the olden 
time, making Masons of his friends and with them practicing the 
Speculative Art. 
It is pleasant o chronicle that every version of the story - and they 
are many - sets forth that this Irish Lady, as a girl, a wife, a 
mother and grandmother, highly valued her singular distinction, never 
took advantage of it, and venerated the Craft for all of her eighty 
years of life.
Among the many versions of this story , one credits Miss St. Ledger 
with “intent” to overhear by concealing herself in a clock-case in 
the Lodge Room. This seems altogether out of character; moreover, the 
clock-case” method of a woman’s getting Masonic secrets has been 
overworked.
In a letter written in 1879 to Brother Montague Guest, the following 
passage relating to a Dorsetshire Lodge occurs:
“There was a Lodge about a hundred years ago, held in a house facing 
the Up-Lyme turnpike . . . It was in that lodge that it was said the 
woman hid herself in a clock and was in consequence made a Mason.”
The clock-case tradition finds an echo in Thackeray’s story of “My 
Grandfather’s Time,” which occurs in one of his papers on SNOBS, 
about . . .
“. . . my great aunt (whose portrait we still have in the family) who 
got into the clock-case at the Royal Rosicrucian Lodge at Bungay, 
Suffolk, to spy the proceedings of the Society. of which her husband 
was a member, and being frightened by the sudden whirring and 
striking eleven of the clock (just as the Deputy Master was bringing 
in the mystic Gridiron for the reception of a neophyte), rushed out 
into the midst of the Lodge assembled; and was elected by a desperate 
unanimity, Deputy Grand Mistress for life.  Though that admirable and 
courageous female never subsequently breathed a word with regard to 
the secrets of the initiation, yet she inspired all our family with 
such horror regarding the mysteries of Jachin and Boaz, that none of 
our family have ever since joined the society or worn the dreadful 
Masonic insignia.
There seems to be small doubt that Helene, Countess Hadik Barkoczy, 
born 1833, was actually “made a Mason” in Lodge Egyenloseg, warranted 
by the Grand Orient of Hungary.  The last of her race, at her 
father’s death she was permitted by the Hungarian courts to take the 
place of a son, receiving his full inheritance.  In this was an 
extensive Masonic library in which she became much interested.  In 
1875 the Lodge mentioned admitting her!
The Grand Orient of Hungary took immediate action on this “breach  of 
Masonic vow, unjustifiably conferring Masonic degrees, doing that 
which degrades a Freemason and Freemasonry, and for knowingly 
violating the statues.”  The Deputy Master of the Lodge was expelled, 
the officers of the Lodge had their names struck from its rolls, and 
the members were suspended for various periods of time.  To the honor 
of the Grand Orient be it said, its final pronouncement - apart from 
these merited punishments - was unequivocal.  It Read:
“1.   The Grand Orient declares the admission of the Countess Hadik 
Barkoczy to be contrary to the laws, and therefore null and void, 
forbids her admittance into any Lodge of their jurisdiction, under 
penalty of erasion of the Lodge from the rolls, and request all Grand 
Lodges to do the same.
“2   The Countess is requested to return the invalid certificate 
which she holds, within ten days, in default of which measures will 
be taken to confiscate immediately the certificate whenever produced 
at any of the Lodges.”
The Chevalier d’Eon is a mysterious and remarkable character, but he 
was not a “woman” Freemason.  It seems highly probable that this 
peculiar person (born 1728 was partially an hermaphrodite, feminine 
in appearance, if sufficiently masculine in nature to become a 
distinguished soldier and one of the best swordsmen in France.   In 
spite of a pronouncement by a court of law that “he” was a woman, his 
male sex was definitely proved after his death.  This is more 
remarkable, as after a masculine career of some distinction (which 
included being made a Mason in London) he voluntarily admitted that 
“he” was a woman, and lived as such for thirty-three years.!
The world believed him at the time, and great was the stir caused by 
the thought that a regular Lodge had “made a Mason of a woman.”  
Postmortem examination restored confidence; the best explanation of 
his odd life is that he was insane; the worst which may be thought of 
him as a “woman” is that he deceived the world, Masonic and profane 
alike, for many years.
Melrose Lodge No.1 is on the roll of the Grand Lodge of Scotland, 
preserves the tradition of as woman initiate, Isabella Scoon, known 
in the vernacular as Tib Skin.  The story runs that after removing 
from Newstead, the meetings were held in hired rooms for some years. 
and:
“The matron, ac true daughter of Eve, somehow obtained more light 
upon the hidden mysteries than was deemed at all expedient, and, 
after due consideration of the case, it was resolved that she must be 
regularly initiated into Freemasonry,” which tradition states was 
actually done, the initiate being greatly impressed with solemnity of 
her obligation, remaining ever a true and faithful Sister among the 
Brethren, and distinguishing herself in works of charity.!
“The Lodge minutes, however, contain no record of the occurrence.”
The officers and about forty privates of the 22nd Regiment quartered 
at Newcastle, England, in 1769, being Freemasons, celebrated St. 
John’s Day in Winter by attending services at St. Nicholas’ Church.  
This publicity would appear to have excited the curiosity of the 
landlady under whose roof the Lodge was held, for in the “Newcastle 
Chronicle” of January 6, 1770, the following advertisement was 
inserted:
“This is to acquaint the public that on Monday the first inst., being 
the Lodge (or monthly meeting night) of the Free and Accepted Masons 
of the 22nd Regiment, held at the Crown Inn, Newgate, Mrs. Bell, the 
landlady of the house, broke open a door (with a poker) that had not 
been opened for some years past, by which means she got into an 
adjacent room, made two holes through the wall and by that stratagem 
discovered the secrets of Masonry, and she, knowing herself to be the 
first woman in the world that ever found out that secret, is willing 
to make it known to all her own sex; so that any lady that is 
desirous of learning the secrets of Freemasonry by applying to that 
well learned woman Mrs. Bell (that lived fifteen years in and about 
Newgate St.) may be instructed in the Secrets of Freemasonry,”
If Mrs. Bell did actually acquire the knowledge the advertisement 
claims, it is clear that she had by no means learned the lessons 
which were apparently so deeply impressed upon the other “lady 
candidates.”  The story can only be a hoax.  Probably Mrs. Bell heard 
a good deal about the doings of the Lodge held on her premises, and 
was inclined to pretend to know more than really was the case.  The 
advertisement, in the spirit of those times, was doubtless intended 
to hold her up to ridicule and warn her to be more discreet.
Recording the death, aged eighty-five, on Tuesday, May 11th, 1802, of 
Mrs. Beaton in Norwich, a newspaper notice reads:
“She was a native of Wales, and commonly called here (i.e. at 
Norwich) the ‘Freemasons’ from the circumstance of her having 
contrived to conceal herself in the waincotting of a lodge room, 
where she learnt that secret, the knowledge of which thousands of her 
sex have in vain attempted to arrive at - She was a singular old 
woman, and as proof of it the Secret dies with her!”
Capt, J.W. Gambier, a non-Masons, in his,  “Links in my Life on Sea 
and Land”, wrote:-
“In 1861 I arrived at Chatham and met my father.  We went ashore, and 
dined at the old inn by the pier at Chatham. sacred to the memory of 
Pickwick and his companions, and but for a fat old waiter . . . 
regaling us with pot-house legends . . . we should have been dull 
indeed.  Amongst other anecdotes this venerable old Ganymede told us 
was how once a woman had hidden herself in a cupboard, which he 
showed us in the room, to overhear what went on at a Masonic meeting, 
but that, being discovered, by her dog scenting her out, she had been 
hauled out and then and there made a Mason with all due Masonic 
rites.”
About 1864, Lodge Tongariro, No.705 E.C., met at the Rutland Hotel, 
at Wanganui, New Zealand.  Part of the premises adjoining the room 
used by the lodge had ceased to be occupied and had become somewhat 
dilapidated.  The following story is told in the history of the 
Lodge: -
“The landlord, who was a member of the Lodge, had a sister living in 
the house.  She was an elderly lady with a great thirst for 
knowledge, and she was determined to find out all about Freemasonry.  
Accordingly she went to this disused part of the building and 
succeeded in removing a knot from the wooden portion, and from this 
spy-hole was able to witness unobserved some portion of the 
proceedings.  She did not, however, posses the gift of silence, and 
one evening while serving behind the bar, told a gentleman who was at 
that time not a member of the Craft, although he afterwards became a 
Mason and subsequently occupied the Master’s Chair in the Lodge.  The 
good lady was especially impressed with the third degree, which she 
described as ‘very dreadful’.  She stated she was going again that 
night, and that it was her intention to enlarge the hole in order to 
get a better view.  She informed her hearer that there was not a 
great deal to see until the Lodge had been opened about an hour.  
There was to be ‘a third’ that night, and if her friend would join 
her in about half an hour, he might take his turn at the peep-hole.  
Unfortunately for her plan,  her bother, who was standing near, 
though unobserved, overheard this conversation, and when the old lady 
had climbed up to her accustomed place, he crept softly behind her, 
and taking a firm grip on her ear, conducted her without ceremony to 
her rightful place behind the bar.  Unlike the Hon.  Elizabeth St. 
Ledger, the lady who concealed herself in a clock-case at an Irish 
Lodge, she was not initiated into Freemasonry, so could not equal 
this famed lady.”
Loose bricks, knot-holes, clock-cases, doors pried open with pokers - 
the ladies seemed to have had but one method of “becoming 
Freemasons.”
A number of supposed “women Freemasons” have received temporary 
notoriety in the United States.  Probably the best authenticated (and 
that very poor) is Mrs. Catherine Babington, “nee” Sweet, who was 
born in Kentucky in 1815, married in 1834, and died in 1886.	 
Brother J.P. Babington, her son, of Cleveland Lodge No.202, Shelby, 
North Carolina, after her death published a biographical sketch of 
his mother, evidently in the sincere belief that what he heard all 
his life was true, and giving a plain  (if inherently improbable) 
account of this “lady Mason.”
According to this book, which ran into three editions, Catherine 
Sweet spent the greater part of her childhood and young womanhood 
with her Grandfather, Benjamin Ulen, who lived near where she was 
born in Kentucky.  Near her Grandfather’s house was a two-story 
building; a school below, and a room intended as a church above.  
However, it was used by Masons as a Lodge room.  Your Catherine is 
said to have concealed herself in the hollow pulpit not once, but at 
every meeting of the Lodge for more than a year, seeing all the 
degrees and learning all the work, even the most secret
She was finally discovered by one of her six Uncles, all alleged 
members of the Lodge, and on being closely questioned - and she is 
stated to have refused to answer unless interrogated Masonically - 
she showed a more proficient knowledge of the ritual than any of them 
possessed!
She was kept in custody for more than a month, while the Lodge 
decided that to do with her.  Finally she was “properly prepared” and 
“made a Mason”  but not a member of the Lodge.
This estimable lady is said to have talked Masonry on every and any 
occasion even “instructing” brethren whom she considered “bright” and 
was immensely proud of being “the only woman Freemason.”  Critical 
historians, however, look with considerable doubt on the major 
incidents of this tale.  It appears that there was no regular Lodge 
near her Grandfather’s home at the time she was alleged to spy upon 
it (there may have been a spurious Lodge, of course) and no records 
exist that any of her Uncles were Masons.
There seems to be no doubt that (1) Mrs. Babington lived; (2) that 
she knew at least some Masonic ritual and (3) that hundreds if not 
thousands of her neighbors and friends believed the story.
Her knowledge of ritual can easily have come from any of a half dozen 
of the so-called exposes of Masonry (such as the Morgan booklet) 
which circulated freely enough and may still be found in libraries 
and second-hand stores.  It is possible that she learned Masonic work 
from her husband (unlikely, inasmuch as he was a Past Master) and 
barely possible that she did get into some spurious Lodge and hear 
from a concealed place.  If the latter is true, why were the 
particulars which her son received from her not of a place and a 
Lodge which could be identified?
There are tales and tales and still more tales not here mentioned; 
many of the are obviously confusions between the French Rite of 
Adoptive Masonry and the genuine Ancient Craft Masonry, or have to do 
with that odd little bi-product of quasi-fraternity known as “Co-
Masonry.”  The story of Madam Xaintrailles belongs among the former; 
she was doubtless a member of an Adoptive Lodge, but the story that 
she was later initiated into Craft Masonry at the close of the 
eighteenth century rests almost wholly upon tradition.
Some supposedly Masonic bodies at one time or another have admitted 
women to membership - one of these in Mexico in a not far distant 
past - but their stories belong in a history of spurious Freemasonry, 
not in the chronicle of curious fiction in which only the illegal 
“making” of the Countess and the accidental discovery of the young 
English girl seem to have genuine claims to credibility.