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The Dark Freemasons' Goat

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The Dark Freemasons' Goat

Post by Karen on Mon 1 Mar 2010 - 13:26

Masonic Column

Freemasonry Exposed.

BY A VICTIM.

I have joined the Masonic Fraternity. Mr Editor, I'm a free and accepted son or brother, or whatever it is, of that ancient and mysterious organization. I have belonged to many secret societies in my time. I have been an Orangeman, and a Son of Temperance, and a Fenian, and if I remember aright, I once belonged to a gang of coiners; but this Masonic arrangement, this institution of the compass and sqare, distances them all. I had often wondered what sort of a thing a Mason was - in what respect it differed from an ordinary human being. Time and again I have pumped persons who I thought knew what was what, with a view of finding out something regarding these remarkable men, but it was no go. Mum was the word. Those who could tell wouldn't, and those who would couldn't; for further information I was advised to go and find out. I had a vague idea of my own, that a Mason was a sort of a supernatural being, a regular ring tailed roarer, with horns and hoofs to match, who could come down the chimney or get in the keyhole, and disappear like a flash of lightning - a chap that could knock blazes out of a fellow with a wink of his eye, and of whom the very devil himself was afraid.
There is one singular thing connected with Masonry of which you are perhaps now aware, and that is, a Mason never dies. Occasionally it is given out that a brother has departed this life, and the fraternity is respectfully summoned to do honor to his remains, but it is all a sham - a big swindle got up to throw dust in the eyes of uninitiated. The coffin is stuffed full of bricks, and deposited with due solemnity in the cemetery; while the brothers and friends are blubbering their eyes over the grave of the dear departed and the dear departed himself quietly enjoying himself in the back room of some hotel, preparatory to leaving for parts unknown. It is a fact, Mr. Editor, Masons never die. They may change their outward appearance, and move off to other spheres, but as for dying, they don't do it. It is supposed by some after they have transacted enough wickedness on this earth, they are transformed into comets and meteors, and go wandering through space, kicking up shindies, and raising the devil generally, and a great many people suppose that the last meteoric display was nothing more nor less than a free fight between some rival lodges that had crossed each other's path; the different colored lights betoken the different degrees they had acquired while in the flesh.
Free Masonry is of ancient date, as proved by the fact that during the wet season Noah used to hold meetings in a corner of the Ark. He was obliged to give it up, however, owing to the curiosity of Mrs. Noah, who, notwithstanding the fact that her husband placed a couple of lions and a big crocodile at the door as outside guard, came pretty near finding out the secret and starting a female lodge on her own hook.
I must tell you of the perils and trials I had to undergo to become a Mason. On the evening in question, I presented myself at the door of the lodge room, No 66, 666, sign of the skull and crossbones. I was conducted to an ante room, where five or six melancholy chaps in sashes and embroidered napkins were waiting to receive me. On my entrance they all got up and turned back summersaults and then resumed their seats. A big fat fellow, who sat in the middle, and who seemed to be proprietor, then said, "Sinner, from the outer world, advance! I advanced. "Will you give up everything to join us?" "Not if I know it," I said, "there is my wife and fourteen fine -----." Another party here told me to say "yes," as it was merely a matter of form. So I said, "yes I give up everything." The fellows in the towels then groaned and said, "'tis wel." "Do you swear never to reveal anything you may see or hear this evening, to any human being, nor to your wife?" I said, "'pon my word I will not." They then examined my teeth and felt my muscles, and made me put out my tongue, and then groaned again. I said, "if you don't feel well, I have got a little bottle here that - " The fat man here took the bottle from me and told me to shut up. He then in a voice of thunder said, "bring forth the goat." Another fellow then came up with a big cloth to blindfold me. "No you don't, Mr. Mason," I said, "no tricks on travelers, if you please. I don't believe in playing blind man's buff with a goat. I'll ride the devil if you like, but I don't go it blind. Stand back or I'll knock you into smithereens." They were too much for me, however, so I had to submit and be blindfolded. The goat was then led in, and I could hear him making an awful racket among the furniture. I began to feel that I was urgently wanted at home, but I was in for it, and couldn't help myself. Three or four fellows then seized me, and with a demonical laugh, pitched me on the animal's back, telling me at the same time to look out for squalls. I have been in a good many scrapes, Mr. Editor. I have been in an election fight - I've been pitched out of a fourth story window - I've gone down in a railroad collision, and up in a steamboat explosion, but this goat excursion was a little ahead of them all. The confounded thing must be all wings and horns. It bumped me against the table and the chairs, and the stove and the ceiling, but I hung on like a Trojan. I turned front somersaults, and rolled over and over till I thought it was all over with me. I was just on the point of giving up, when the bandage fell from my eyes and the goat bounded through the window with a yell like a Comanche Indian giving up the ghost. I was in a Lodge of Masons. They were dancing a war dance around a big skull, and playing leap-frog and turning hand-springs, and the big fat fellow of the ante-room was standing on his head in a corner fluishing the contents of my little bottle. Order was soon restored, and I was led up to a desk and told to stand at ease. The Chief Engineer of the establishment then put his thumb to his nose, and stretching out his fingers in the shape of a fan, toward me, and commanded silence. The rest of the brethren did likewise and were silent. The governor then addressed me: "Brother Knobb, you are now one of us. You are now a member of an institution that has lasted over ten millions of years. From this forward your constitution is sound. You are impervious to light and heat, or any other atmospheric influence. You are water-proof, fire-proof, ond over proof. With impunity you may walk through the lake, or sit on a red hot stove. With impunity drink acquafortis, rye whiskey, Wahoo Bitters, or any other poisionous substance. You are free from rheumatism, dyspepsia, whooping cough or the measles. The Sheriff dare not seize you for debt, nor the policeman arrest you for misdemeanor. You are of us and you are safe. Here is the password; with that and a big club you can get into any lodge in Christendom." I then took the oath on a pack of cards, and stood the whiskey and water all around, and I was a Mason.

Source: Daily Colorado Tribune (Denver, Denver County), Sunday March 8, 1868, page 1




How He Became a Freemason.

The goat, the goat, the bearded goat,
The horned, the hoofed, the hairy goat;
As I'm a sinner of some note,
This night I rode the Masonic goat.

He was a beast of wondrous size,
With lengthened limbs and glassy eyes,
And beard that swept the carpet clear,
And horns that touched the chandelier.

Ye gods! If there's time we feel
Misgivings through our noddle steal,
'Tis when we through the mysteries float
Upon the dark Freemasons' goat.

Three times was I compelled to ride
The beast around the temple wide,
And when I tried the fearful mount
My heart's pulsations all could count.

Twice did I make the circuit fair,
With hold on horns, on tail and hair,
Till on the third attempt and last,
When I presumed all danger past,
He pitched me clear off horns and head
And left me far below for dead.

But when I rose with courage frail
The goat had vanished, head and tail,
And I was styled by one and all
The liveliest Mason in the hall.
- Concha County Herald.

Source: The Quincy Daily Whig; Jun 18, 1893, page 5

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Karen Trenouth
Author of: "Epiphany of the Whitechapel Murders"
Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
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Re: The Dark Freemasons' Goat

Post by Karen on Tue 26 Jun 2012 - 7:51

L.L. Palmer, C.P. Walker and A.C. Harris were headed Jefferson-ward Tuesday evening, presumably with evil designs on the Masonic goat. They report a gay time.

Source: Iowa Newspaper, April 1895

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Re: The Dark Freemasons' Goat

Post by Karen on Tue 26 Jun 2012 - 7:56

NEW HARTFORD.

George H. Deacon of Dike rode the Masonic goat in the third degree here last Friday.

Source: Waterloo Evening Courier and Reporter, Thursday January 13, 1916

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Karen Trenouth
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Re: The Dark Freemasons' Goat

Post by Karen on Tue 26 Jun 2012 - 8:01

The Grand Commandery of the Knights Templar of Iowa is now in session at Templars' Point, and the Masonic goat in consequence has no breathing spell. The Chapter of Royal Arch Masons is having weekly meetings, and judging from the general appearance of some of the candidates who have been taking degrees, the goat here has likewise no rest this warm weather, and neither have the candidates.

Source: The Milford Mail, Milford Iowa, July 1901

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Re: The Dark Freemasons' Goat

Post by Karen on Tue 26 Jun 2012 - 8:15

A Masonic Goat.

In a small village, not a thousand miles from this place, says the Sonoma Democrat, a certain divine, whose church is strongly opposed to secret societies, announced, a few weeks ago, that he would deliver a discourse against Freemasonry. The appointment was for Saturday night, and a large audience came out to hear him. Just as the speaker began to warm up with his subject, a lot of boys went up to the door, and opening it, shoved in an old billy goat, and locked the door on the outside. Now this old goat was a notorious fellow. The boys about town had teased and "fooled" with him so much that he was always "on the fight." When thrust into the large company that composed the audience of the reverend speaker, he was not at all abashed, but began looking around for a foeman worthy of his horns. Soon he discovered the speaker gesticulating in the further end of the room, and, with a few preliminary nods, to assure himself that his neck was in good working order, he made for him on the double-quick. It was as if the ghost of the traditional Masonic goat was after him. Dodging around the pulpit he managed to elude billy's well-aimed butts. Down among the audience they came, the pursued and the pursuer. Women and children mounted the benches, and such a scene of confusion and such an uproar is not often seen in a solemn assembly. In the meantime the boys were firing a volley of stones at the end of the building. By a strategic movement the goat was caught and tied to a bench, and the congregation quieted down. The speaker resumed his subject. Billy stood quietly for a while, but when one of the boys, who knew his tricks, made a motion at him, he began to plunge and to rear to get at him, creating as much confusion as before. When the door was opened all were glad to get out, except billy, who felt that he had not had half a show.

N.B. I believe those young boys were put up to that by Masons who may or may not have been their fathers or uncles. What a great example of discussion suppression!

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Author of: "Jack the Ripper: The Satanic Team"
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