FREEMASONRY TODAY
For the Support of Brothers
Andy Durr Completes His Look at Working-Men’s Associations and Their Great Social Influence
When in 1883 J.M. Baernreither, a Doctor of Law from Venice, visited Britain
he got very excited. He found that ‘there [had] gradually been formed an
aristocracy of workmen, a kind of vanguard, which already counts many
hundreds of thousand’, actors in a ‘gigantic’ ‘theatre’ of ‘associated life’. For
Baernreither these Working-Men’s Orders as he called them, were ‘offshoots of, or in
imitation of, Freemasonry’.
These Working-Men’s Orders, Secret
Orders or Affiliated Societies as they were
better known, were numerous with over 150
of them recorded in 1874. They boasted an
array of names, such as the Loyal Order of
Alfred’s, the Loyal United Anglo Saxon’s,
Orders of Britons, the Ancient Order of
Comical Fellows, the Druids, the Foresters,
the Free Gardeners, the Order of Ancient
Grey Beards, the Odd Fellows, the Order of
Old Friends, the Sons of Phoenix, the
Rechabites, the Ancient Order of Romans,
the Ancient Order of Shepherds, and more.
Each, in turn, generated for themselves a
mythological history; the ‘Druids claimed
links with Moses’, the Foresters with the
Garden of Eden, the Rechabites with
ancient Egypt and the Odd Fellows with the
Roman Empire.
The reality was that these associations had
their roots in the eighteenth century but were
institutions of the nineteenth. For brevity we
will concentrate on the Odd Fellows, the most
prolific: by the mid-nineteenth century there
were over thirty-five different Orders of the
Odd Fellows – such as the Nottingham
Ancient Imperial, the Grand United, the
Ancient Noble Order of United Bolton Unity,
the Independent Order - Manchester Unity to
name a few. Some were quite small, consisting
of a handful of lodges but the largest,
Manchester Unity, had over 4,500 lodges by
the early 1890s. When compared with the
Freemasons – United Grand Lodge of England
at the same period mustered 2000 lodges – the
numerical magnitude is impressive.
It has been argued that the Odd Fellows
started to form lodges in London in the
mid-eighteenth century. This may well be
the case since by the 1790s they were well
enough known for publishers to engage
engravers to produce caricatures of their
initiation rites. What we do know is that by
the end of the eighteenth century, they had
lodges all around London under a Grand
Lodge. This Grand Lodge was issuing
dispensations for Lodges to be formed in
the provinces; in the North with two in
Sheffield, others in Birmingham,
Wolverhampton and Liverpool; and in the
South with lodges in Maidstone,
Canterbury, Dover and Lewes with others
in Bath, Shrewsbury, Windsor and
Richmond.
Odd Fellows’ Rituals
From what can be pieced together, the
Odd Fellows were not ‘offshoots’ from
Freemasonry but like many other
organisations were ‘in imitation of
Freemasonry’. As with Freemasonry these
lodges met in taverns and had food and
drink at their meetings. Early reports of
initiation rituals suggest that the candidate
was blindfolded before he entered the lodge
room. He was made to walk on ‘loose
planks [that formed] an imaginary road
with rough knots left at intervals, some
faggots of wood and bundles of cork, so
arranged as to form rocks and forests’ -
giving much the same effect as early
eighteenth century Freemasons being led
blindfolded over a floor covered with sand.
The Odd Fellow then made his obligation,
his blindfold was removed and the
presiding officer then confronted him in a
‘long white beard and wig’ and a long
apron ‘with the emblems of mortality
painted’. This officer stood in front of a
pedestal on which was a skull and a scythe.
All around him the other members of the
lodge, also in white surplices, had their
faces covered by ‘grotesque masks’. The
masks had the same effect as described in
reports we have of early eighteenth century
Freemasons grotesquely distorting their
faces as the initiate’s blindfold was
removed. The importance of masks to the
Odd Fellows can be seen in the images
used in early nineteenth century certificates
and pottery. Then, as with the Freemasons,
he was given the secret signs and
passwords. Following this lectures were
given on the benefits of charity.
It is not until the late eighteenth century
that we can get a feel of who these Odd
Fellows were. In Sheffield, the Freemasons
had two lodges, the first formed in 1765.
By the 1790s they were joined by two Odd
Fellows’ lodges. The masonic lodges in
Sheffield reflected the social composition
that modern academic research is revealing
across the country. They were
predominantly composed of artisans and
shopkeepers with a small tail of others: an
attorney, a surgeon and some gentlemen. In
this period the occupations of all four
lodges mirrored Sheffield: there were
cutlers, file-makers, grinders, hammer
makers, silver-platers and a mix of other
trades, not least working masons.
Functionally, what both the Freemasons
and the Orders were doing at the end of the
eighteenth and early nineteenth century
was filling that gap in ‘civil society’ left by
the demise of the Social or Religious
Guilds at the end of the Reformation and
the Craft Guilds at the beginning of the
eighteenth century. They would bury their
dead, look after widows and orphans and
relieve members in distress, not least as
they moved around the country from lodge
to lodge seeking work. In public, they
would wear their regalia at a brother’s
funeral and take part in the funeral rites.
Both Freemasons and the Orders alike
played a part in civic life. In Sheffield, at
the opening of the General Infirmary in the
1790s, the thirty-five trade clubs took part,
each carrying different coloured silk flags.
The freemasons were preceded by two
trumpeters dressed in white on white
horses, a band, two Tylers with swords and,
in the first of many banners, one of crimson
silk depicting Faith, Hope and Charity.
Coming down another street were the Odd
Fellows: ‘The Most Noble Grand Master’
with a scarlet sash, trimmed with silver lace,
and his jewels suspended by a narrow ribbon
of the same colour, carrying in his hand a gilt
staff. The supporters wore green sashes,
medals and gilt wands. An elegant flag, of
white silk, was carried. It delineated many
symbolic figures of the Order.
It was not just the large cities which held
such parades: in Lewes, with the visit of the
King and Queen, they had the trade clubs of
the Carpenters and the South Saxon Lodge
of the Freemasons and the Royal Clarence
Lodge of the Odd Fellows stationed on
either side of the carriage road in full regalia
under their respective banners.
With the French Revolution and then
war with France, the State passed a raft of
legislation making national associations
illegal. The Freemasons only just escaped
when they agreed to give the names of each
lodge member annually to the local
magistrates. The Freemasons then formed
into the United Grand Lodge of England.
Lodge meetings became separated from the
eating of food and drinking. Regalia
became much plainer as did the
membership certificates. Gone were the
glorious colour and the emblematic images.
In simple terms we begin to witness
perceived respectability and internalisation
of English Freemasonry which helped to
seduce the fast growing white-collar
Victorian managerial and professional
middle-class into membership.
Benefiting Society
The Orders, on the other hand, after the
set-backs caused by the Napoleonic Wars,
emerged in public from the second decade
of the nineteenth century little altered.
What the Orders did was to recognise the
down side of the astringent doctrine of
laissez-faire economics which added to the
‘ancestral hazards of illness, accident and
old age, unaccustomed perils of
unemployment and unpleasant anonymity
of the new industrial centres’. To achieve
their aims they needed to become legal, not
least to safeguard their funds. The only
route open to them was to register under the
Friendly Societies Act of 1790 which, for
them, was far too restrictive – it allowed the
collection of funds but not the regalia, the
rituals or the feasts. In the end, after a Select
Committee took place at which they gave
evidence, a new Bill was passed. While
each lodge had to register their rules they
were able to maintain their rituals of
initiation, pass words and signs and their
regalia, banners and other social activities
that many would have liked to remove –
there were complaints of the ‘reckless
extravagance, trumpery regalia’ but as the
Friendly Society actuary, Charles Hardwick,
noted with some pleasure in 1856, ‘no
expenditure, however great, in the manner
adopted by the modern “scientific”
insurance companies, could have
commanded much success, for the simple
reason that it neither is, nor was, adapted to
the education, taste, or condition of the
people addressed. The “respectable”
companies now generally employ an artist
to design for them an allegorical emblem
which they display as conspicuously as the
Odd Fellows do’ on their sashes and aprons.
But it was not just that. The Orders
were all-round organisations with social
activities, adult education classes and
more. On a practical level there were
a range of benefits not the least that
lodges would employ their own doctor. By
the late nineteenth century it would be the
Odd Fellows’ Hall in many towns that
would be used by many different
community organisations. It was the
different Orders, Trade Unions, Churches,
and Sunday Schools that would parade
around the towns on annual Hospital Day
collecting money.
These Working-Men’s Orders, Secret
Orders or Affiliated Societies were so
important with over 12 million members
that when Lloyd George started the embryo
Welfare State in Britain with the first
National Insurance Act of 1911, it was in
partnership with these societies. If one
skims through the pages of Bevridges’
Report - the 1940s working document from
which the Post-War Welfare State derived -
so much of what these organisations had in
place was a model which now forms part of
our National Health Service.
Andy Durr was Mayor of Brighton and Hove, currently
Visiting Research Fellow at the University of Sussex. Member
of South Down Lodge, No.1797. This article summarises
some points from a chapter of his book in progress, The
English Artisan and Fraternal Association.
Issue 25, Summer 2003
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