Transparency. The buzzword of the 2020s. But transparency doesn't exist and probably never will.
Secret societies sound so sinister, yet according to Ahnapee Record, the community had them. It wasn't just the small tow of Ahnapee. Such societies existed around the country and the county, even in neighboring communities such as Forestville, Casco, Kewaunee, Carlton and others. Some of the secretive groups were "anti-treating" - the groups which belonged to the anti-alcohol mpovements whose members pledged not to offer or accept drinks in saloons or other places where alcohol might be bought and sold. Some secret societies focused on mutual aid, but others were just plain secret.
The last of the 19th century was the heyday of
such societies, and charlatan leadership was often not far behind. Well before
1900, there was an uproar about secret societies that went as far as an
Anti-Secret Society Convention. When the group had its 1869 meeting, attendees
went after the secular press, saying even religious papers didn’t have the guts
to come out for Christ. It kept on.
More recently Dan Brown’s DaVinci Code shined light
on such societies. Once editor of the Daily Beast and Rolling Stone,
Noah Shachtman wrote that some groups provided for “open dialogue about everything
from academia to religious discourse, removed from the restrictive eye of
church and state.” Shachtman further stated the societies were “incubators of
democracy, modern science, and ecumenical religion.” Such groups elected
leaders and drew up a constitution. He said George Washington, Ben Franklin and
Voltaire were members of such groups, and “just like today’s networked
radicals, much of their power was wrapped up” in anonymity.
Lisa Hix penned an article appearing in a 2016 Dallas
Morning News (accessed
online) about 19th century secret societies selling life
insurance within fraternal rituals. Modern Woodmen of America was one of the
societies, and one found in Ahnapee/Algoma. Hix says Modern Woodmen “made life
insurance approachable and fun by packaging it in the familiar order culture of
the day.” She went on to say two Woodmen societies remained in existence although
were no longer fraternal.
Until around the mid-1900s, Modern Woodmen restricted
membership to white men from 18 to 45. At a time when Catholics and Jews saw
discrimination, the Woodmen admitted the two faiths as well as all Protestants,
atheists, and agnostics. In the beginning, the white males came from the
healthiest states that included Wisconsin and its neighbors. The group was not
open to those whose occupation was among the most dangerous such as miners and
railroad workers, but even baseball players were thought to be in a dangerous
profession. Those who joined the Woodmen were forced to acknowledge their own
mortality, as did the Masons, a group in Ahnapee by 1869.
When Maynard T. Parker chronicled the short 22-year history of
Wolf River/Ahnapee in the October 12, 1873 Record, he told readership The
Grand Army of the Republic was the community’s second secret lodge, although it
was disbanded within a short time. He pointed to the Masonic Lodge as the third
secret lodge. Key Lodge #174 was established on June 8, 1869 and a week later Will
Frisbie was its
representative to a convention of the Grand Lodge of Wisconsin F & A.M.
(Free and Accepted Masons) The first organized secret lodge must have
been so secret that Parker never mentioned it, however in January 1874, the Record
pointed to the organization of another new secret society in town, although
its name and goals were not known. The organization was Lone Lodge No. 1 of the
Knights of the Iron Band, which history says was formed in the winter of 1874.
By September 1877, Ahnapee had four societies
listing their meeting nights in the weekly Record: the Key Lodge No 174
F & A Masons met in their hall on the corner of 3rd and Clark, while
the Sons of Herman met in their 2nd Street hall. St. Joseph Society
met in the home of P.M. Simon, the Temple of Honor No. 111 met in their 3rd
and Clark Steet hall, and the YMCA met
in the Baptist Church parlors. Knights of the Iron Band did not announce
meeting nights.
That The Grand Army of the Republic (GAR) was secret is a surprise. Wikipedia says it was the largest of all Union Army veterans' groups and the "most single-issue political lobby of the late 19th century, securing massive pensions for veterans and helping to elect fice postwar presidents from its own ranks." For members, it was a secret fraternal group, a charitable group, a provider of entertainment and a patriotic organization.
The GAR seems far from a secret organization although in Secret
Societies in America, author W.S. Harwood called attention to the military
oath and said the military was “knit together by secret threads.” It would seem
that military secrets are necessary.
Wolf River/Ahnapee’s early days were healthy. The population
was young, and isolation kept it germ free. As the community grew, so did
lumbering and sailing. Both were dangerous, and both took lives. Then came the
Civil War with the death and disease. Risk of injury and death were always
there in everyday life. If the husband died, who was there to provide for the
wife and children? Nobody wanted to be on the “poor list,” though many were. Joining
secret clubs such as the Freemasons and Odd Fellows, men found networking and
entertainment. They also found help.
Major Joseph McCormick was a member of Ahnapee’s F & A
Lodge when his horse threw his buggy injuring him in 1875. McCormick was 88
years old, in serious condition and unable to move. As a 33rd degree
Mason, McCormick was cared for by the Lodge. Googling tells us the
thirty-third degree is an honorary award bestowed upon Scottish Rite Freemasons who have made major contributions to society or
Freemasonry. McCormick certainly did. His story is chronicled in previous
posts.
Following the Civil War, mutual benefit societies popped up offering insurance. Ahnapee saw the
Sons of Hermann/Herman and Knights of the Iron Band. Even as women and Blacks
were excluded from such societies, between 1890 and 1930, up to 1/3 of American
men belonged to at least one secret society.
Wikipedia says the Sons of
Herman was a mutual aid society for German immigrants, formed in Ney York in
July 1840. It remains active in some states today. While membership was
restrictive in the early days, the society is open to all today, providing
insurance and aid. Founded in New York in response to anti-German sentiment,
the group historically preserved German traditions and language. The Sons were
an offshoot of the Odd Fellows, however there were declines in Sons’ membership
with the advent of World War 1, and again because of anti-German sentiment.
At one time the Catholic
Church refused to bury members of the Sons because of rituals, but that
disappeared. German Jews were members, and in Milwaukee, those of the Jewish
faith held leadership positions, something that didn’t happen with every group.
Mothers, wives, daughters and sisters were allowed in a female auxillary. It
was in July 1985 when the national organization required all to purchase a life
insurance policy.
The Sons of Herman organized in Forestville before founding the Sons of Herman Ahnapee Lodge #23 in September 1874 with twenty-seven members. John Weilep was elected president of Bismarck Lodge, No 23, O.D.H.S. (Der Orden der Hermanns-Soehne) when the Sons of Herman was organized in Ahnapee by an officer of an officer of the Grand Lodge of the State. Launched with fourteen charter members, the society flourished, they planned to meet at Weilep’s (now the Hotel Stebbins) until their new hall was ready. Though rejecting the “social glass,” Sons of Hermann was known to be a friendly organization and at its organization members learned the mysteries of the order such as “riding the goat,” which has several meanings, most associated with Masons.
Not long
following the Lodge’s formation, Ahnapee’s Lutheran congregation passed a resolution.
Feeling that because the German lodge was secret, it was unchristian, and, therefore,
Ahnapee Lutherans felt lodge members should be excluded from church membership.
However, it is unclear if any of the Sons lost their membership.
Catholics too dealt with secret societies. In May 1880, Ahnapee's Father Cipin wrote a letter to the Record defending the church's St. Wenceslaus men's group which was joining the society of St. Louis, another Bohemian society. Cipin said St. Louis was neither a lodge nor secret society as identified by the paper a week earlier, but an open, public society. He said the Catholic church forbid secret societies and any Catholic who joined one would be excommunicated. Cipin said the Society of St. Louis was named Bohemian Catholic Central Association and was focused on mutual support.
On September 20, 1894, the Record listed officers for the new St. Francis Court #465, a subordinate of the Catholic Order of Foresters. Each member carried $1,000 in insurance and after six months would receive weekly benefits in the event of sickness or accident. The paper said the Foresters were the only "secret society, that is, the only society that makes use of a password, sign, grip, etc. connected with the Catholic church at present."
Almost
two years later, in July 1896, Kewaunee Enterprise mentioned Archbishop Frederick
Katzer, third bishop of the Green Bay Diocese, who was Archbishop of Milwaukee
at the time. Katzer fought a proposition to introduce secret rituals into the
Order of the Catholic Knights and went to Stevens Point to fight against the
idea. If the Knights had elected to be a secret society, Archbishop Katzer
would have withdrawn his support.
Iron Band Society, Lone Lodge #1, was founded in 1874 to propagate "anti-treating" ideas, paramount at the Monday meeting nights. Such leading citizens as Michael McDonald, John R. Doak, George W. Wing, Orange Conger, Simon Warner, John McDonald, Irving W. Elliot, Maynard Parker, Levi Parsons, George Bacon, and E.T. Tillapaugh were elected officers in December 1874.
A fire near the Ahnapee piers was one of the first big conflagrations to challenge the fledgling fire department. About 3 AM one night just before Christmas 1874, the Pier Company's store building at the foot of Steele was engulfed in flames. According to Editor William Seymour, though the fire department was efficient, the building was destroyed with property inside. G.W. Youngs, who used a portion of the building as an office, was able to remove the safe, books and other valuables. The Knights of the Iron Band, the secret society that met on the second floor, was not so lucky. The society lost all its property including a valuable English book printed in London during the early 1700s, other rare books, and geological and vegetable curiosities. The society had met the previous night and theirs was the only stove lit.
A few hundred dollars’ worth of tools and items, belonging
to the government but stored there, were among the substantial loss. Insurance
agent Peter Schiesser said there was an insurance policy of $1,000 although the
building was worth about $2,000. It was said the fire would have been far worse
for the village had the winds not been blowing from the southwest, so toward
the lake.
The fire did little to dampen enthusiasm in the Knights of the Iron Band. Immediately following the fire Senior Grand Knight Michael McDonald announced future meetings would be he in the hall in J.R. McDonald’s building at the corner of 2nd and Steele. The Knights eventually began meeting in Temple of Honor Hall, the site of the Knights’ entertainment on January 3, 1881, an evening of entertainment that included recitations, debate, speeches, instrumental and vocal music.
A few days earlier, on New Year’s Eve, the Lone Lodge
members wore their regalia and emblems during a torch light parade. The paper
said the order’s principles were universal, but mystery was “embodied in its
organization.” It further aid that the society brought curiosity among the
public. Curiosity was somewhat satisfied in
April when the Record reported on a strange, mysterious installation – a
solemn occasion - of Lone Lodge No 1 of Iron Band of the I Alone officers’
ceremony. Readership was informed that more excited residents witnessed the event than any other secret society,
partly because it appeared so strange to the populace. While outsiders felt it
was mysterious, many believed it was a horrible, diabolical secret society.
The Record’s reporter found barely enough room in the area allotted to spectators. Describing the center of the remaining space with its catafalque draped in black and decorated with white, the reporter said it held the figure of a man in clay. He went on to say: “Clothed in the robe of the order, with hands folded upon his breast, his clear-cut marble-like features showed the body by the light of four tapers which were sustained by candelabrums (sic) of gold and silvered glass, stood upon the black drapery at each corner of the bier upon which his form rested.” High officers stood on an elevated platform behind the catafalque while two guards, “in gloomy robes,” walked back and forth armed with spear and battle ax.
As members marched in, the Knight of the Ceremonies directed them to seats on either side of the hall. As they gave the Iron Band salutation, they sat facing the bier. Then the Knight escorted the Grand Senior Knight Commander to his station where he received the salutation of the Knights.
It was most unusual when the Senior Knight placed his left hand on the cold forehead of the clay figure as he promised to be fair, fearless, and faithful in his governance of keeping true temperance, stressing that excess is dangerous, downgrading, and leads to suffering and misery. He pledged to maintain the order and not allow it to come into neglect. Receiving the badge of the order, the other officers came forward to pledge a faithful performance before the Grand Senior Knight delivered an address. Exhorting officers to faithfulness, vigilance, and earnestness, the Grand Senior Knight warned them about the responsibilities they were assuming.
The Senior Knight went on to discuss temperance, saying the concept of treating was not “sanctioned or sustained by the customs of any other nation except our own.” He said it was foolish to squander money on one who does not care to buy something they don’t want, such as a headache. While he thought it might be acceptable to have one glass of beer or spirits, to drown one’s sorrows was hoggish, beastly, and degrading.” He said members were forbidden from giving or accepting “treats,” thus drunkeness would cease. As solemn and dark as the installation and address were, dancing followed the address.
The Record’s reporter told readership he
couldn’t fully explain the society which was so closely connected with
mysterious ceremonies. The black robes were sombre and their badges represented
iron, silver, and golden degrees of the I Alone. The costumes represented Iron
and Golden bands.
In June 1881, Lone Lodge No 1 of the I Alone cast a unanimous vote directing each member to go before a magistrate to make a complaint about any lodge member who had been expelled for violating the anti-treating law. The Lodge did not feel its members should have the duty of enforcing laws on any but its own members. When the Lodge said “temperance,” it meant it. Temperance in excessive drinking was required, and the Lodge felt “excessive” happened in saloons and that promoted drunkenness. Saloon owners were not in favor of the movement.
Temple
of Honor had its beginning in the U.S. about 1845. The society had a secret
ritual based on medieval Knights Templar, a fraternal group with signs,
handshakes, and passwords resembling those of the Masons and Odd Fellows. Ahnapee’s Temple 111 organized in early March
1877 with – according to Ahnapee
Record - 27 drinkers, about two-thirds of whom were called hard drinkers.
To look at the list of those in leadership positions, Ahnapee’s leading
citizens were among the fifteen officers selected and installed. Apparently,
some considered themselves hard drinkers as many of the officers held
leadership positions in the Iron Band Society formed a few years earlier.
Algoma Record Herald reported Anti-treating
passed Wisconsin’s legislature and was
signed by the 14th Governor of Wisconsin, William E. Smith in late
March 1881. Any treating in that resulted in conviction was to be fined no less
than $5 and no more than $10 for each offense.
Some thought it was one of the most ridiculous laws ever
while others thought it was the most effective temperance law ever passed. It
permitted a man to drink what he wanted if nobody else paid for it. The
Record saw the new law as a law to be broken, but it hoped for enforcement.
Those who pointed toward ridiculous were proven right.
Cato Institute, in an
article by Mark Thornton, Policy Analysis No. 157, July 17, 1991, explains why
Prohibition was a miserable failure. When Prohibition passed in 1920, it was
felt that law would result in better health and hygiene, reduce crime and corruption,
and even the tax burden from prisons and poorhouses.
The Cato Institute’s significant research concluded that," Although consumption of alcohol fell at the beginning of Prohibition, it subsequently increased. Alcohol became more dangerous to consume, crime increased and became "organized," the court and prison systems were stretched to the breaking point, and corruption of public officials was rampant. No measurable gains were made in productivity or reduced absenteeism. Prohibition removed a significant source of tax revenue and greatly increased government spending. It led many drinkers to switch to opium, marajuana, patent medicines, cocaine, and other dangeroussubstances that they would have been unlikely to encounter in the absence of Prohibition."
The number of Ahnapee saloons seem to indicate the village/city secret societies did not desire to bring an end to all alcohol, just buying a drink for another to consume. Total calls for abstinence came later. Prohibition came to an end in 1933, just as Wisconsin's anti-treating laws did years before.
The Depression and Social Security in 1935 ended much of the fraternal insurance since many wee unable to make their payments. As movies and radio came into existence, they supplied the entertainment once offered by the societies, many of which faded into society.
Sources: Ahnapee Record/Algoma Record Herald; An-An-api-sebe:Where is the River?; Cato Institute article by Mark Thornton, Policy Analysis No. 157, July 17, 1991; Commercial History of Algoma, WI Vol 1; Hix, Kisa, 2016 Dallas Morning News (accessed online); Lewis, Phil, History of Modern Woodmen an American Fraternity, 4/2021 (accessed online); https://www.history.com/news/secret-societies-freemasons-knights-templar; Wikipedia..
