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Episode 139 : Secrets and Silence: William Morgan and the Freemasons

Sep 17

3 min read

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In the summer of 1826, a bricklayer named William Morgan vanished from Batavia, New York. He didn’t leave a note. He didn’t pack a bag. He was simply—gone.

The disappearance might have faded into obscurity if not for one explosive detail: Morgan had been preparing to publish a book revealing the secret rituals of the Freemasons, one of the most powerful and secretive fraternal organizations in early America. The episode that followed—known as The Morgan Affair—would grip the nation, shake public faith in justice, and even give rise to the first official third political party in the United States.


1829 illustration of Morgan by The Grand Lodge of British Columbia and Yukon
1829 illustration of Morgan by The Grand Lodge of British Columbia and Yukon

William Morgan was, by most accounts, an unremarkable man: a stonecutter by trade, a husband, a father. He claimed to have served in the War of 1812 and to have achieved high rank within the Freemasons. But much of his story didn’t hold up under scrutiny. His Masonic credentials were disputed—even denied—by lodge members in western New York. Still, he managed to gain access to several lodges and rituals, perhaps by overstating his qualifications or exploiting the Freemasons’ growing internal divisions.

After being shut out by local lodges, Morgan turned against the fraternity. He partnered with a local publisher, David C. Miller, to produce Illustrations of Masonry, a book that promised to expose the group’s most closely held secrets.


In September 1826, just as Miller was preparing the book for print, a strange series of events unfolded. Morgan was arrested—twice—on dubious charges, including the theft of a shirt and a $2.65 debt. After being jailed in Canandaigua, he was released into the custody of men he didn’t know. Witnesses say Morgan screamed “Murder!” as he was forced into a waiting carriage. He was never seen again.


Four Masons—including a sheriff and a colonel—were later convicted of kidnapping Morgan, but none were charged with murder. The lack of a body meant no definitive proof. Rumors spread: Morgan had been taken to Canada. He had been bribed. He had been drowned in the Niagara River with a stone tied around his neck.


Morgan’s disappearance unleashed a wave of public fury. Masonic influence ran deep—many judges, sheriffs, and legislators were members—and their refusal to fully investigate the case stoked fears of a conspiracy. Citizens across New York formed investigative committees, organized town meetings, and demanded accountability. The sense that Masonry operated above the law ignited something larger than a manhunt: a political revolution.


In 1828, citizens of Le Roy, New York, issued their Declaration of Independence from the Masonic Institution. By 1830, the Anti-Masonic Party had been formed—the first third party in U.S. history. It attracted everyone from local farmers to national politicians. Future president Millard Fillmore and Abraham Lincoln’s Secretary of State, William Seward, both had early ties to the Anti-Masonic cause.

The party didn’t last long. Infighting over policy direction and the limits of single-issue politics led to its collapse. But the Morgan Affair left a lasting impact. Masonic membership declined, their once-immense influence diminished, and their public image never fully recovered.

Despite Morgan’s fate, Illustrations of Masonry was published in full. David Miller included a damning introduction, claiming the book was written “in the absence of the author, who was kidnapped and carried away… by a number of Freemasons.” The book included word-for-word descriptions of ritual oaths, including warnings of torture and death for those who broke their vows. For readers in the early 1800s, it was shocking.

Even today, the mystery of Morgan’s disappearance remains unsolved. One body found in Lake Ontario was initially believed to be his, until it was claimed by another family. There were whispers he’d been paid to leave the country, that he’d assumed a new identity, or that he had been executed and buried in secret. None of it was ever proven.

Lucinda Morgan, William’s widow, would go on to remarry—a man named Joseph Smith, the founder of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Like the Freemasons, the early Mormons would also face suspicion, secrecy, and persecution in the decades to come.


In 1881, more than fifty years after his disappearance, a monument to William Morgan was erected in Batavia. It reads: “A martyr to the freedom of writing, printing and speaking the truth.”


Whatever happened to William Morgan, he left behind more than a manuscript. He left behind a legacy of public resistance, a cautionary tale about unchecked power, and a reminder of just how far some people might go to protect a secret.


🎧 Listen to the full episode now on Historical True Crime—available wherever you get your podcasts.



Sep 17

3 min read

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