The Hon. Mrs. Aldworth
The only woman Freemason
I have another picture of the lady from a painting in Doneraile,—never photographed before,—but it is not so distinct as the one I give, and is merely that of a beautiful woman, a woman of the world before her character has been developed. Certainly none would dare claim—in her presence at least—that the character of the lady in the portrait I do give has not been developed, nor would it be well to cast any aspersions upon that character. You may think you know a thing or two, but if wise you will not dare the owner of that face yonder. Madam, I doubt not but that you were the very best Mason the sun ever shone upon, so let me alone, will you?
She was born in 1695, and her history is told us by Lord Castletown in the room where its great event occurred.
It is the first on your right in front as you enter the mansion, and the interest of the house centres there, for therein was being held in 1725 the Free-masons' lodge when the Hon. Mary St. Ledger, afterwards Mrs. Aldworth, hid herself, some say in the great clock, and upon being discovered was by those present condemned to death, when one man so plead for her that her life was spared and she was made a full-fledged Mason, the only one in the world's history. What could follow an incident so romantic save a wedding, and it did follow shortly. It is said that she was condemned for ever to wear clocks on her stockings, hence that name for that bit of embroidery. It is also stated that Aldworth at first voted for her death and she married him to pay him out again. Whichever tale is correct it is stated that in later years he more than regretted that he had not voted for her death, but he was probably a degenerate man, for the face in yonder portrait was worth fighting for. In the room where it all occurred are her masonic emblems, a "square" about three inches long, the stone above an amethyst, the rising sun above, gold, and the rays diamonds (or old paste), a greyish stone, and yellow amethyst in alternate rays. A little thing to last when she who wore it and created all this disturbance has been dust and ashes since 1775.
The room is a double or alcoved apartment with bookcases ranged around its walls, and still holds, I believe, the same furniture as upon the eventful night.