The History of Unknown Men

Got this idea from one of my favorite Manly Hall books. This is basically a compilation of information about obscure people in history who assisted in the advancement of America. Most of the info is from the book "The Secret Destiny of America"

Nearly all great causes are furthered by mysterious and obscure persons who receive little or no credit for the part which they have played in history. Most of these unknown philosophers work obscurely through other men, who gain the credit and the fame.
It is reasonably conceivable that in secrecy and anonymity well-ordered aid has been given to the struggle for human equity and justice that has been America’s destiny through the past to our present time. It is our duty and our privilege to contribute what we can to this Universal plan. It will go on, served by the unknowns, until the Platonic empire is established on earth, and the towers of the new Atlanis rise from the ruins of a materialistic and selfish world.
In an old book of rules used by the brothers of the secret orders, is the following: “Our brothers shall wear the dress and practice the customs of those nations to which they travel so that they shall not be conspicuous or convey any appearance that is different or unusual. Under no condition shall they reveal their true identity, or the work which they have come to accomplish; but shall accomplish all things secretly and without violating the laws or statutes of the countries in which the work.”

The Letters of Funius

Between January 21, 1769 and January 21, 1772, an unknown man using the pseudonym of Junious wrote as a man personally outraged. The sins of parliament weighed heavily upon his soul. He spoke for England, for the American colonies, and for the world. He defended the freedom of the press, attacked taxation without representation, and was a vigorous and belligerent champion of human rights. There can be no doubt that his pen advanced the cause of the American Revolution and created sympathy for the victims of bungling English politicians. It is not remarkable that “The Letters of Funius” gave inspiration and comfort to the cause of American independence. They were widly read in the colonies, and the solid judgment which these Letters contained influenced the thinking of Benjamin Franklin, Thomas Jefferson, and John Hancock.” Both liberty and property are precarious,” writes Junious, “unless the possessors have sense and spirit enough to defend them. This is not the language of vanity. If I am a vain man, my gratification lies within a narrow circle. I am the sole depository of my own secret, and it shall perish with me.”



The Professor

ROBERT Allen Campbell in 1890 published a little book Our Flag, or The Evolution of the Stars and Stripes. Diligent research fails to uncover any data about Mr. Campbell. He states in his preface that the work is "a compilation of facts and dates from official sources, larger works, occasional pamphlets and addresses upon this and collateral subjects; and is meant, therefore, for the perusal of those who have not the time, opportunity or disposition for a more extended study in this line of research."
Then he refers specifically to the chapter of interest to our present consideration: "That part of this sketch which treats of die proceedings of the Congressional Committee in relation to the Colonial Flag, and of the unofficial consideration, by a few of our Revolutionary statesmen and heroes, in regard to the Flag of the 'Thirteen United States,' immediately preceding its adoption by Congress, has not heretofore been published."
This last statement makes it extremely difficult to trace Mr. Campbell's source of information. We are forced to the conclusion that the story must have been given to him by word of mouth.
The book itself must have been printed in a very small edition, for it has become exceedingly scarce and is seldom if ever offered for sale. On those rare occasions when copies have changed hands, the book commands a price far in excess of usual works in this field.
According to the rules laid down by Sir Francis Bacon for works published under the authority of the society of unknown philosophers, each book must be marked in some peculiar way, easily recognizable by the informed, but not conspicuous to those who are not a party to the plan. All of the older writings are so marked, either with ciphers, curious headpieces, vignettes, colophons, designs, symbols, figures, or signatures. It is possible that the book, Our Flag carries such a signature; for it ends with the following quotation, "Out of monuments, names, words, proverbs, private records and evidences, fragments of stories, passages in books, and the like, we save and recover somewhat from the deluge of time." --Bacon.
One thing is certain, Robert Allen Campbell has concluded his treatise with a curiously meaningful passage from the writings of the man responsible far the broad program of colonization in the western world that made possible the creation of the United States of America. The selection of Bacon's words to conclude the book may be accident, and it may be intent; but in the light of the text and the air of mystery which covers the history of the writing and the life of the author, it appears more than possible that intent is the answer.
Chapter 2 of Our Flag is entitled, "The Colonial Flag" This in substance is what it says:
In the fall of 1775, the Colonial Congress in session at Philadelphia appointed Messrs. Franklin, Lynch, and Harrison as a committee to consider and recommend a design for a Colonial Flag. General Washington was then in camp at Cambridge, Massachusetts, and the Committee went there to consult with him.
While at Cambridge the committee men were entertained by a patriotic and well-to-do citizen. At that time the best room in this gentleman's residence was temporarily occupied by a peculiar old gentleman. As there was only one other guestroom, Messrs. Lynch and Harrison were given the unoccupied room, and Dr. Franklin shared apartments with the old gentleman.
Nothing is known about the mysterious old man except that he was referred to as the "Professor"; his name is not preserved. He was beyond seventy years of age but apparently in the prime of his life. He ate no flesh, fish, nor fowl, or any green things, and drank no liquor, wine, or ale. His diet consisted of cereals, well ripened fruit, nuts, tea, and such sweets as honey and molasses. He was well educated, highly cultured, of extensive as well as varied information, and very studious. He spent most of his time pondering over rare books and ancient manuscripts, which he seemed to be deciphering, translating, or rewriting. These he kept carefully locked up in a heavy iron-bound chest and never showed them to any person.
He was liberal but in no ways lavish with his money, but was well supplied with all that he needed. The Professor was a staunch advocate of democracy and his favorite statement was, "We demand no more than our just due; we will accept and be satisfied with nothing less than we demand."
On the eve of their arrival, December 13, the committee men dined with their host and hostess, also General Washington and the Professor. The Professor was introduced to the visitors without his name being given, and his ease, grace, and dignity during the introduction is especially noted. When Benjamin Franklin was presented, he stepped forward and extended his hand, which the Professor heartily accepted. As their eyes met there was an instantaneous, a very apparent, and a mutually gratified recognition.
After dinner, Washington and the committee men exchanged a few words in undertone, and then Dr. Franklin arose, saying, in substance, "As the Chairman of this committee, speaking for my associates, and with their consent, and with the approval of General Washington, I respectfully invite the Professor to meet with the committee as one of its members; and we, each one, personally and urgently, request him to accept the responsibility, and to give us, and the American Colonies, the benefit of his presence and his counsel."
After graciously accepting the invitation, the Professor made his first recommendation. He pointed out that the Committee now consisted of six persons, General Washington and the host being honorary members. Six was not an auspicious number, and as none of the members could be spared, let the hostess be included so that the number could be increased to seven. This suggestion was unanimously accepted and the hostess became the secretary of the committee.
The committee met the following evening in the Professor's room. General Washington opened the proceedings by asking Dr. Franklin for his recommendations. Franklin replied by requesting that the entire committee listen to the words of his new found and abundantly honored friend, the Professor, who had definite suggestions to make.
After a preamble, the Professor made the following extraordinary remarks:
"The sun of our political air, like the sun in the heavens, is very low in the horizon--just now approaching the winter solstice, which it will reach very soon. But, as the sun rises from his grave in Capricorn, mounts toward his resurrection in Aries, and passes onward and upward to his glorious culmination in Cancer, so will our political sun rise and continue to increase in power, in light, and in glory; and the exalted sun of summer will not have gained his full strength of heat and power in the starry Lion until our Colonial Sun will be, in its glorious exaltation, demanding a place in the governmental firmaments alongside of, coordinate with, and in no wise subordinate to, any other sun of any other nation upon earth."
The Professor went on to point out that the flag which he recommended would be subject to change in the future as the national destiny increased. This change, however, should not require a complete re-designing but a process of gradual modification: "To make it announce and represent the new nation which is already gestating in the womb of time; and which will come to birth--and that not prematurely, but fully developed and ready for the change into independent life--before the sun in its next summer's strength ripens our next harvest."
The design finally submitted consisted of a field of thirteen alternate red and white stripes, and in the area which now contains the stars was the British Union Jack. The area containing the Union Jack was the one suitable for modification. The design was formally and unanimously accepted, and the flag was adopted by General Washington as the recognized standard of the Colonial Army and Navy. There is no record of any report being made by this committee to Congress.
On January 2, 1776, at Cambridge, in the presence of the Army, General Washington with his own hands raised the newly made flag on a tall and specially prepared pine tree liberty pole. The British army at Charleston Heights could see the flag clearly. After inspecting it with their field glasses, the British officers ordered a salute of thirteen cheers, followed by a regular official salute of thirteen guns in honor of the new standard. It appears therefore, that the Colonial Flag was as pleasing to the British as it was to the Colonies.
It is easy to see why Mr. Campbell's story has received very little recorded recognition. It belongs among those shadowy and mysterious happenings which influence or change the course of empire but will ever find little favor with prosaic and unimaginative historians.



Mysterious inspiration for the declaration of independence

It is not known who he was and the incident is preserved only in a rare old book, the very existence of which it is difficult to prove.
In esoteric circles, many believe that the unknown man was Saint Germain. Only a master of his attainment could have charged the atmosphere of the room with such fire that all fear melted away. He had assembled many of his most stalwart friends (e.g. Ben Franklin) from over the centuries to embody at that point in time and space to help create a country dedicated to freedom, the most important freedom being that of religion. His greatest ally in that cause was none other than George Washington. The father of our country was not in the room of course. He was not a delegate.
Some years ago, while visiting the Theosophical colony at Ojai, California, A.P. Warrington, esoteric secretary of the society, discussed with me a number of historical curiosities, which led to examination of his rare old volume of early American political speeches of a date earlier than those preserved in the first volumes of the Congressional Record.

He made particular mention of a speech by an unknown man at the time of the signing of the Declaration of Independence. The particular book was not available at that moment, but Mr. Warrington offered to send me a copy of the speech, and he did; but unfortunately neglected to append the title or the date of the book. He went to India subsequently, and died at the Theosophical headquarters at Adyar, in Madras. Then, in May, 1938, the speech appeared in The Theosophist, official organ of the society published in Adyar. In all probability the original book is now in the library of the Theosophical society. There is no reason to doubt the accuracy and authenticity of Mr. Warrington's copy, but I am undertaking such investigation as is possible to discover the source of the speech.

On July 4, 1776, in the old State House in Philadelphia, a group of patriotic men were gathered for the solemn purpose of proclaiming the liberty of the American colonies. From the letters of Thomas Jefferson which are preserved in the Library of Congress, I have been able to gather considerable data concerning this portentous session.

In reconstructing the scene, it is well to remember that if the Revolutionary War failed every man who had signed the parchment then lying on the table would be subject to the penalty of death for high treason. It should also be remembered that the delegates representing the various colonies were not entirely of one mind as to the policies which should dominate the new nation.

There were several speeches. In the balcony patriotic citizens crowded all available space and listened attentively to the proceedings. Jefferson expressed himself with great vigor; and John Adams, of Boston, spoke and with great strength. The Philadelphia printer, Dr. Benjamin Franklin, quiet and calm as usual, spoke his mind with well-chosen words. The delegates hovered between sympathy and uncertainty as the long hours of the summer day crept by, for life is sweet when there is danger of losing it. The lower doors were locked and a guard was posted to prevent interruption.

According to Jefferson, it was late in the afternoon before the delegates gathered their courage to the sticking point. The talk was about axes, scaffolds, and the gibbet, when suddenly a strong, bold voice sounded-"Gibbet! They may stretch our necks on all the gibbets in the land; they may turn every rock into a scaffold; every tree into a gallows; every horne into a grave, and yet the words of that parchment can never die! They may pour our blood on a thousand scaffolds, and yet from every drop that dyes the axe a new champion of freedom will spring into birth! The British King may blot out the stars of God from the sky, but he cannot blot out His words written on that parchment there. The works of God may perish: His words never!

"The words of this declaration will live in the world long after our bones are dust. To the mechanic in his workshop they will speak hope: to the slave in the mines freedom: but to the coward kings, these words will speak in tones of warning they cannot choose but hear ...

"Sign that parchment! Sign, if the next moment the gibbet's rope is about your neck! Sign, if the next minute this hall rings with the clash of falling axes! Sign, by all your hopes in life or death, as men, as husbands, as fathers, brothers, sign your names to the parchment, or be accursed forever! Sign, and not only for your selves, but for all ages, for that parchment will be the textbook of freedom, the bible of the rights of man forever.

"Nay, do not start and whisper with surprise! It is truth, your own hearts witness it: God proclaims it. Look at this strange band of exiles and outcasts, suddenly transformed into a people; a handful of men, weak in arms, but mighty in God-like faith; nay, look at your recent achievements, your Bunker Hill, your Lexington, and then tell me, if you can, that God has not given America to be free!

"It is not given to our poor human intellect to climb to the skies, and to pierce the Council of the Almighty One. But methinks I stand among the awful clouds which veil the brightness of Jehovah's throne.

"Methinks I see the recording Angel come trembling up to that throne and speak his dread message. 'Father, the old world is baptized in blood. Father, look with one glance of Thine eternal eye, and behold evermore that terrible sight, man trodden beneath the oppressor's feet, nations lost in blood, murder, and superstition, walking hand in hand over the graves of the victims, and not a single voice of hope to man!'

"He stands there, the Angel, trembling with the record of human guilt. But hark! The voice of God speaks from out the awful cloud: 'Let there be light again! Tell my people, the poor and oppressed, to go out from the old world, from oppression and blood, and build my altar in the new.'

"As I live, my friends, I believe that to be His voice! Yes, were my soul trembling on the verge of eternity, were this hand freezing in death, were this voice choking in the last struggle, I would still, with the last impulse of that soul, with the last wave of that hand, with the last gasp of that voice, implore you to remember this truth-God has given America to be free!

"Yes, as I sank into the gloomy shadows of the grave, with my last faint whisper I would beg you to sign that parchment for the sake of those millions whose very breath is now hushed in intense expectation as they look up to you for the awful words: 'You are free.'''

The unknown speaker fell exhausted into his seat. The delegates, carried away by his enthusiasm, rushed forward. John Hancock scarcely had time to pen his bold signature before the quill was grasped by another. It was done.

The delegates turned to express their gratitude to the unknown speaker for his eloquent words.

He was not there.

Who was this strange man, who seemed to speak with a divine authority, whose solemn words gave courage to the doubters and sealed the destiny of the new nation?

Unfortunately, no one knows.

His name is not recorded; none of those present knew him; or if they did, not one acknowledged the acquaintance.

How he had entered into the locked and guarded room is not told, nor is there any record of the manner of his departure.

No one claimed to have seen him before, and there is no mention of him after this single episode.

Only his imperishable speech bears witness to his presence.

There are many interesting implications in his words.

He speaks of the 'rights of man,' although Thomas Paine's book by that name was not published until thirteen years later.

He mentions the all-seeing eye of God which was afterwords to appear on the reverse of the Great Seal of the new nation.

In all, there is much to indicate that the unknown speaker was one of the agents of the secret Order, guarding and directing the destiny of America.

I cant help but to wonder if America is still being directed by the same forces. Id like to know if anyone has heard of such people that I have not listed.