Introduction
Tucked away alongside a West Virginia road in fertile Shenandoah Valley soil steeped
in the telling of the earliest chapters of the American story—literally in the cradle
of the nation’s revolution—lies a modestly sized limestone cavern. It’s a unique place, one
with a hidden history which holds enormous relevance. Local rumors have long swirled
that highly inspirational events once unfolded inside this dark and dank cave. Until now,
it has never fully seen the light of day. That is about to change.
The story begins in the spring of 1748 when a sixteen-year-old energetic and adventure-seeking George Washington traveled west and over the Blue Ridge Mountains. He went with a small surveying party. Back then, these were the frontier lands of Britain’s Colony of Virginia. The area was composed of lush rolling hills, seemingly endless vistas, and mountain meadows, and its settlers had only thinly populated it. It was a dream-come-true escapade for such a bright-eyed lad as George, then a staunchly loyal British
subject. Here, between the great mountain ridges, the aspiring land surveyor encountered wildlife and foliage hitherto foreign to him. He espied, too, adventure after adventure, and he was thankful for this chance to be away from the posh but tame Mount Vernon estate of his older half-brother, which the youth called home.
Upon discovering and entering “the Cave,” the strapping and precocious Washington, using what appears to be the blade of a penknife, cut his name and the year—“G Washington 1748”—in naïve block letters into the back wall, as if claiming the grotto for his very own. Then he departed. Or so tradition says.
Just two years later, in 1750, after saving up his earnings from working as a frontier
surveyor, the rapidly maturing and driven George returned to the same locale. There he
made his first real estate purchase, only several miles from “his” cavern. Not satisfied, he
added tract after tract to his growing portfolio and thereupon built for himself a thriving western tobacco plantation. He called it Bullskin. This was long before he inherited
Mount Vernon, the family’s sparkling crown jewel back in the established Tidewater
region of Virginia. When all was said and done, Washington accumulated over two thousand of the choicest acres in the rapidly burgeoning Shenandoah Valley. Not too shabby
of a start for the impressionable, twenty-year-old protégé of Lord Thomas Fairfax, who
was a fabulously wealthy land baron and the only titled Englishman ever to reside in the
American colonies.
So too did George Washington’s siblings acquire and develop frontier plots of land
near the Cave. The Washingtons built and occupied grand manor houses. As well, they
leased part of their extensive acreage. The game plan was to lure intrepid settlers to the
valley, to have paying tenants cultivate and develop the family’s upland holdings. That, in
turn, increased property values and simultaneously formed a new community. A Washington family fiefdom, so to speak, took firm root at what is today Charles Town, West
Virginia. The Washington siblings also forged lifelong partnerships with their Shenandoah neighbors. Those bonds, a quarter-century later, proved true during General Washington’s most formidable time of need.
Next, looking for a quiet and secluded place to hold Masonic lodge meetings, George
Washington—who had joined that ancient fraternity and received all three degrees, making him a Master Mason—settled on the Cave. In 1754, if the legend is accurate, at the
age of only twenty-two, Washington is said to have led a special initiation ceremony
establishing the first lodge of Freemasons west of the Blue Ridge. While Pennsylvanian
Benjamin Franklin generally gets credit with importing to America the liberation ideals
of the enigmatic order of the square and compasses, it was the Virginian who, at the Cave,
prompted its further migration west.
It’s a travesty that Freemasonry, its core beliefs and practices, while instilled in the
Founding Era of the United States, today largely goes under-recognized. Either that or
it gets distorted into lurid conspiracy theories. Every high school graduate in America
learns of Washington and Franklin and can name major events of the Revolution. Many
can even recite portions of the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. But how many Americans are aware that the underlying principles of their nation were substantially generated
and laid down by members of “the Craft”? Have they been taught how the famously secretive organization helped bind innumerable disgruntled colonists together as brothers
and markedly assisted in winning the war against Britain?
The era may be called the Age of Enlightenment. Many of its seeds, however, were
sowed in dark and covert places. Reportedly one was at today’s Charles Town. Within the
ill-lit confines of the limestone cavern, the man revered as the father of the great American experiment is said to have held early communion with his Masonic brethren. It’s not
hard to imagine that hidden from the light of the outside world, but by the flickering
illumination of torches and lanterns, the underground frontier Freemasons—who were
becoming increasingly dismayed and disillusioned by the world in which they lived—
met. We can envisage they furtively mused on the concepts of religious tolerance, equality, social justice, and liberty from all forms of tyranny. A new day was dawning within the
Cave and other places like it.
Fast forward to June of 1775. That’s when the strained ties with the mother country
could bear no more weight. A full-blown war with England was starting to erupt. George
Washington, having been put in command of the ragtag Continental Army and pitted
against the most potent fighting force in the world at the besieged city of Boston, turned
his eyes south … to the Shenandoah Valley. More specifically, he looked to the secluded
limestone grotto and his old frontier friendships. It was there he knew that the help
needed to start and win the fight for American independence was waiting at his beck and
call. A sleeper cell of Virginia riflemen, whose leaders are said to have used the Cave as
its cryptic headquarters, quickly assembled and marched six hundred miles. Despite the
summer’s sweltering heat, they traveled at breakneck speed. Not along roads or paths, but
through fields and forests they went. Straight as an arrow, they flew to their commander’s
side. It came to be known as the Beeline March to Cambridge.
Upon their arrival at General Washington’s camp, the frontiersmen-turned-troops
(predominantly Scots-Irish exiles) were at first viewed with skepticism by their northern
counterparts. They were considered uncouth and backward, even immoral and beast-like.
Not to worry. For although George Washington was not an especially charismatic leader, and experts on warfare have never deemed him a mastermind tactician on the battlefield,
the man possessed a far more special gift. His leadership genius was knowing how to
bring together diverse groups of people. He did it not with charm or intimidation but
with understanding and compassion. He had a critical eye, spotted talents and weaknesses, and brought out the best in others. Once assembled, Washington’s fledgling war machine proved to be an eclectic yet harmonious amalgamation; it consisted of Americans
of all walks of life, talents, languages, cultures, and religions. With a united spirit and under Washington’s uniquely adroit leadership, the infantile army matured and ultimately
achieved a hard-fought victory for a country they could call their own.
After the birth of the democratic nation, the little countryside cavern got set aside.
It was never duly recognized in the annals of history. Some of the frontier soldiers never
lived to see the fruits of their sacrifice. Others, like Washington, moved on in life and
position. Perhaps some warriors even chose to forget, wanting to put that traumatic chapter behind them. Despite its pivotal role of playing host to the brave men and the fresh
ethos that founded the United States of America, the Cave came to be seen as a myth, at
best. Mostly it was neglected and then forgotten. Even the Freemasons, who occasionally
returned to the site to mark anniversaries honoring the legacy of the hallowed hollow
and their Brother Washington, eventually stopped coming. Then came the Civil War. It
utterly decimated the region. The memory of George Washington’s Masonic Cave, at that
point, completely faded to black. Time marched on, first by years. Then by decades. And
now by centuries.
The unique and fascinating history of the Cave has never been disclosed to the
American public. It’s so far off the radar, even experts who specialize in the nation’s
foremost founder know not of it. Many would probably deem its story implausible, too
fantastic. Those several prior historical accounts that mentioned the Cave in passing provided the paltriest of detail (some of it inaccurate) and then got set aside. Within the
pages of Brought to Light is the full scoop, including newly unearthed facts and recently
realized connections. Naturally, because of the enormous significance of George Washington, there has long been a steady stream of books and articles about him that, through
no fault of their own, mostly rehash the same old facts, perhaps with a different perspective here or a different context there. This book stands out as being quite different in that
regard. Exposing a new vein to follow and mine, it contains raw and unprocessed material, a healthy portion of which you will find nowhere else. Some ideas presented herein
may challenge current beliefs. Challenge, though, can be a good thing.
The reader is enjoined to refrain from forming premature conclusions about the
topic at hand until all the particulars are laid bare and the totality of evidence can be
analyzed. The level of detail might sometimes seem tedious. That is mandated, given
the unique circumstances of the matter. Extraordinary claims—astronomer Carl Sagan
advised us—require extraordinary evidence. The author has gone to great lengths to include in the following pages every feature and facet of the Cave’s narrative and sufficient
context to make it a cohesive (and hopefully enjoyable!) read. Personal theories and hypotheses are labeled as such. Also, be advised: the full story of the Cave is not yet known,
and research is ongoing.
How hidden is the Cave? Even Charles Town locals who live in houses immediately
around the cavern know little more than its existence. Some correctly assume that it must
be near Old Cave Road, but most do not realize that it lies less than one hundred feet
from the side of the pavement they routinely drive along. That is how well camouflaged
it is. It is hidden in plain sight, as the best secrets often are. My first of many forays to
Charles Town was to scout out the Cave’s environs. Not knowing exactly where to look,
I spoke to several locals to glean any information that could be had. They each replied
something like, “Yeah, I heard there is a cave over there somewhere,” or, “I’ve never seen
it, but I think homeless people go down in it to get out of the rain.” That was about the
extent of the reconnaissance I was able to lasso, even from individuals residing right there,
on Old Cave Road, indeed right across the street from the cavern.
Scott Carter, a respected colleague and friend of mine, and a fellow American history buff, first turned me on to the Cave. As he lives nearby the cavernous curio, he had
heard some of the rumors of its associations with Washington. Dreading the prospects
of a solo trip into the bowels of the earth, and knowing an adventure is always more fun
when shared, I was quite glad (perhaps relieved is the better word) when Scott enthusiastically consented to the proposition of entering the mysterious cavity together to
search for the youthful wall tagging of the Father of His Country. Scott, I must confess,
is the brave one who led the way into the darkness of the unknown, while I followed
closely behind. He has remained enthused and involved with this project from day one.
I am grateful for his friendship, and I want to make sure he knows that I recognize this
momentous chapter in my life would never have occurred without him. Thanks, Scott!
When we arrived on our big day of exploration, fittingly over a Memorial Day
weekend (2018), the lady who permitted us to go inside told us, “Well, my brother has
been in, and he says there is not much to see. Just bat droppings, an old sofa, and other
junk.” We grew a bit anxious when the same nice lady, while pointing her finger in the
direction of some treetops nearby, added, “After they dynamited land over there a few
years ago to build a new housing project, my brother went back in and found some of it
had collapsed.” Thus, when we entered the Cave, we did not know how much intact history we would find. We especially feared the purported carved autograph of our nation’s
founder might be lost forever. But, when we stepped back out several hours later, after
a full tour, including a close inspection of the inner signature chamber, a sense of awe
and responsibility suddenly dawned on us. Knowing we had taken the first-ever clear
photographs (and videos) of the 1748 Washington etching and the rest of the Masonic
Cave’s contents, we realized it was crucial to share our material with others. A website
was quickly developed thanks to my daughter, Sylva. The images—far more than could be
included in this book—were posted there. The reader is encouraged to pay a visit.
After our muddy spelunking adventure, the next step in this project was not quite
as exhilarating. Instead of walking into a dark and mysterious cavern, it consisted of
walking into stuffy research libraries. Fortunately, working long shifts as an emergency
psychiatrist permitted me an ample number of extended weekends. Many were taken up
either sitting behind a microfiche machine or unpacking and repacking archive boxes filled with folders of yellowed letters, contracts, genealogical charts, surveys, and the like.
While my research started in the history room of Charles Town’s public library, it soon
had me crisscrossing both West Virginia and Virginia multiple times. If ever there was a
labor of love in my life, this was it. Hundreds of hours were devoted to quarrying from old
documents any and every clue related to the Cave property and the people tied to it. Each
bit of evidence unraveled a little more of its secretive past and revealed more unraveling
needing to be done. It has been a time-intensive process, and I still deliberate whether it
was I who entered the Cave or whether it entered me.
There is another aspect of the Cave for which Scott and I share a passion: the
need to clean up and conserve this subterranean American icon. The legacy of George
Washington deserves it. The country does, too. The current owner has (as have owners for
generations before him) tried to put up walls, gates, and large metal doors at the cavern’s
mouth. These attempts, as can be seen in our photographs, have not worked well. Pilgrims, vagabonds, and juveniles with too much time on their hands have torn the doors
off and strewn them to the side, only to go in and trash and deface the place. Most, I
reckon, are clueless as to the significance of the cavern. Scott and I will continue to try
and work with the Cave’s owner and other members of the Charles Town community to
find a better long-term solution to its preservation.
Back to my research. Sometimes fact truly is more interesting than—and even
wilder than—fiction. It seems to be the case with the Cave. Connecting one clue to
another, and then to another, an image started to take shape. It soon became clear that
the Masonic Cave’s tale is far more complex and tangled than I initially conceived—encompassing topics ranging from French ballroom dancing to a lost colony Washington
once tried to establish. Amazingly, the Cave’s connections to the Washington clan spill
well into the nineteenth century, long after the general was deceased. For example, I uncovered a handful of Washington family letters written from the Cave and sent directly
back to Mount Vernon. These old documents had been resting in the archives of Mount
Vernon all these years. Yet the library staff there had no clue what the Cave property was
all about. They do now!
To keep my thoughts straight and make my findings available to anyone with a
shared interest, I initially started cataloging sources and writing brief postings on my
website. I also did it to ensure some poor soul in the future doesn’t repeat all the legwork.
Once is enough. The idea of a book came about when I realized something most compelling. For the first (and almost assuredly only) time in my life, I possessed more knowledge
on a singular subject than anyone else, present or past. And by a considerable margin. This
realization was nothing but humbling. It also obligated me to do something about it;
hence, a book to preserve and convey what I have learned came to be. Immense gratitude
goes out to my publisher, who, uncannily, came to me with the book idea right as I was
about to approach them with it. Electronic media is a boundless tool. Even so, I suspect
printed words will—in the long run—be more durable and functional than any blog or
website. I intend to distribute free of charge hard copies of this book to individuals and
places directly connected to the little grotto. This is to ensure that the chronicle of George
Washington’s Masonic Cave is transmitted far into the future.
Why does the Cave matter? It’s not that the wet and slippery limestone walls are
somehow sacred. That is not the point. George Washington has already been sufficiently
“deified” and has “temples” like Mount Vernon and Mount Rushmore to which curious
tourists flock. As well, the Cave does not illuminate the way to some lost Knights Templar treasure. Nor does it unlock any great secrets of the ages through its connection
to the Freemasons. No, it is the story of the Cave itself and what it represents that is
so special. It allows us to tap into the movement afoot back in 1775 when the impetus
for the forming of a new nation—an enlightened republic—began. It provides a prime
opportunity for us to contemplate afresh who we are and the motives that went into our
molding. It enables us to renew our quest to find where we came from and (most importantly) where it is we are heading.
Scott and I realize that much of the Cave story may be a myth, a delicious but fabricated legend. We have repeatedly asked ourselves, how is it generations of historians
have overlooked something so marvelous? It is a well-known fact that much lore has
grown around the already brilliant life of Washington. Quaint fables like young George
chopping down the cherry tree and throwing a silver dollar across the mile-wide Potomac River (actually, the Washington family legend places this feat at the Rappahannock
River, which might be feasible at 250 feet across) make for great storytelling. While these
very tall tales probably have a place in the overall American narrative and may aid in our
attempts to relate to George Washington, they do not deserve inclusion in factual books
of history. Washington was such a giant in our nation’s birth that it is easy to see how
people might idolize and mythologize the man, leading to those lines between historical
fact and creative fiction getting blurred. True stories can get embellished. Others are just
flatly made up to prove a point. Even if the ends justify the means in the telling of a good
Washington folktale, it is still vital to sort out what is fact and what is fiction. It is thus
appropriate not to rush into accepting the Cave story as being 100% authentic.
On the flip side of the coin, there is a grave danger in dismissing something too
readily as mere fabrication without first carefully inspecting its elements. The adage may
be as ancient as humanity itself. It has been employed over and over but remains no less
relevant. Those who forget or choose not to learn history are doomed to repeat it.
We will never discover CCTV footage showing George Washington as he carves
his name in the limestone wall or conducts secretive rituals inside the vault. Establishing its validity will depend on a careful inspection of the documents related to the Cave
and an examination of the Cave itself. Further, any reader hoping that the tome in their
hands will reveal a riveting conspiracy theory about the Freemasons or Illuminati will be
sorely disappointed. There is a mystery here, but it’s not the esoteric kind. It is more like
a detective novel or a five-hundred-piece historical jigsaw puzzle, where the end goal is
to confirm or deny a fantastic legend. Ultimately, it will be up to each reader to decide if
the substantial assemblage of evidence presented in Brought to Light is enough to verify
the Cave’s genuineness.
There is an even grander saga told in this book, of which the Cave is just a part, and
it includes each one of us. We seem to live in a time when, perhaps unwittingly, many enjoy the fruits of the Revolution but struggle to remember or honor the men and women who risked their lives and fortunes to make it possible for us to do so. Perhaps it is a sense
that it happened so long ago, in a bygone era by people who have long been dead, and the
marks on their tombstones are now so worn and indecipherable that it somehow does
not apply to us. Or is it an even deeper and more psychological issue? I have heard fellow
Americans describe George Washington as a “bad” man—a villain no less—because he
owned slaves and killed Indians. Have we somehow started to develop a national sense of
shame? Is it so difficult for us to look at any sins, stains, or omissions of our forefathers
that we cannot forgive them for all that and still see the bigger picture and appreciate the
most precious gift they left to all of us?
These giants in the birth of America were far from perfect. That’s a given. And we
need to eschew ancestor worship. Any ignoble deeds of Washington and his revolutionary cohorts need to be called out. That said, our forefathers’ failings can either imprison
us or help further liberate us—depending on how we approach them. Our understanding
of ourselves deepens and grows the more we reflect and have an open, honest dialogue
about past grievances. When we solely glamorize and exalt favorable aspects of America’s
history—those that sit right with us and make us proud—we do a tremendous injustice.
When we oversimplify and disown parts of our history and culture because of feelings of
discomfort or remorse, we fall short of our full potential as a free and thoughtful nation.
The dilemma of how to best handle our past’s iniquitous elements must be met
with wisdom and prudence. Statues and memorials that are clearly out of step with the
standards and sensitives of the present time can still serve as powerful teaching devices.
Rather than be toppled and dumped into harbors, melted down, or crated and hauled
off to warehouses never to be seen again, those public monuments that are disgraceful or
controversial should be left intact and placed in museums and other places of education
and understanding. Not to be honored, but to be studied and to help us remember our
grievous mistakes in days of old—and ensure we never make those same mistakes again.
The term “Founding Fathers” is befitting such historical figures as Washington.
These men (and women, as there were also Founding Mothers) labored over many years
and through many different types of tribulations to provide us with that sound foundation upon which was built everything we cherish. It’s critical to continuously ask ourselves: are we sufficiently inspecting and maintaining that foundation? Besides, George
Washington’s ideas and character evolved as the social and economic system around him
changed. We mustn’t view him or those of his ilk as a single static or frozen entity. The
story of the Cave and how it fits into the greater narrative of the man’s lifetime—I hope
my reader will come to find out—can animate and help us better appreciate that metamorphosis. Maybe it can even inspire us to evolve in some way of our own.
History, it would seem, is not about glorifying remarkable people. Nor is it about
memorizing lists of weighty events. It is about understanding the actual process that we
as humanity went through to get where we are. It’s my personal belief that the study of
the past should lead to self-discovery. It requires a deliberative and nuanced evaluation—
something that almost seems incompatible with today’s polarized cultural climate, smartphone immediacy, and overreliance on talking points. Whitewashing or hiding away the
past (especially its most unsettling and ugliest parts) can be a disservice to all. It can even fuel our existing problems. The truth sometimes hurts, but it must be told, and it must be
retained. In the elegant (albeit grammatically incorrect) words of George Washington,
“truth will ultimately prevail where pains is taken to bring it to light.”