The “absorbed” 1776 copy of the Declaration of Independence – sometimes referred to as the “official” or “signed parchment” version – is on display in the rotunda of the National Archives Museum, inspiring those who, like Abraham Lincoln, look on as “a rebuke and a stumbling block…to tyranny and oppression”.
Sealed in a gold-plated titanium frame, with bulletproof glass and state-of-the-art light and moisture protections, it remains under constant surveillance by armed guards and security cameras. Every night he descended into a vault (along with the Constitution and the Bill of Rights, considered the other essential founding documents of the United States). It can be said that no other text in the world enjoys the same level of protection.
Yet this is a relatively new development. Before arriving at the National Archives, the “signed parchment” Declaration of Independence survived many trials and tribulations, including war, fire, occasional abuse, insects, and the ravages of time. Other early versions of the statement, some also dating back to 1776, have also persisted to the present day and can fetch big bucks at auction.
How the Declaration of Independence Was Printed
When the Second Continental Congress passed the Declaration of Independence on July 4, 1776, the manuscript was immediately taken to the nearby shop of John Dunlap, who printed about 200 poster-sized copies that night. These so-called Dunlap broadsides were then distributed throughout the 13 former colonies, including to General George Washington and his troops, and across the Atlantic as well. By July 6, newspapers had also started publishing the statement in their pages.
“As the text was printed and proclaimed at public readings across the colonies, communities tore up royal symbols and celebrated with toasts and huzzahs,” says Emily Sneff, a PhD student in history at William & Mary, who writes her thesis on the Declaration. of Independence.
But although the Dunlap flank was the first public version of the statement, it used simple type and did not include the names of the congressional delegates who endorsed it. For a more official and formal version, the Continental Congress ordered on July 19 that the declaration be “pretty parchment-written”—meaning it had to be elaborately and richly hand-written on animal skin—and signed by each delegate.
The scribe for this job was reportedly Timothy Matlack, assistant to the congressional secretary, who completed the task on August 2. Starting with John Hancock, 56 delegates, including a couple opposed to independence and others who missed the vote. , then put their signature on the document.
Although born in Philadelphia, the “signed scroll” statement did not stay there long. Under British threat, the Continental Congress evacuated to Baltimore in December 1776, taking the scroll with them in a wagon. From there, assuming it continued to travel with Congress, the statement briefly returned to Philadelphia, then jumped from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, to York, Pennsylvania, again to Philadelphia, to Princeton, New Jersey, to Annapolis, Maryland, Trenton, New Jersey, and New York.
After a fourth stop in Philadelphia from 1790 to 1800, the Declaration of Independence was transported by ship to Washington, DC, the newly built capital, where it has remained for almost a few years since. As the National Archives points out, it was likely rolled up and unrolled several times during its years on the road, setting off a process in which it gradually became more wrinkled, stained, torn and faded. There’s even a mysterious handprint on the lower left side of the scroll.
In the custody of the State Department, the scroll was kept in various government buildings until the end of the War of 1812, when British soldiers marched on Washington, D.C. Just before the city burst into flames, the State Department Clerk Stephen Pleasonton, who later claimed to have acted against the Secretary of War’s advice, stuffed the statement and other important documents into linen bags and took them to Leesburg, Virginia. There they remained safe in private accommodation until returning to DC the following month.
The “signed scroll” statement again bounced around various DC buildings, including the former Patent Office (now the National Portrait Gallery), where it was exposed to “high light levels and fluctuating extremes of temperature and humidity,” says Amy Lubick, senior curator. at the National Archives. She adds that “it was posted at different times both vertically and horizontally.”
For a few months in 1876, the statement was displayed in Philadelphia’s Independence Hall as part of the Centennial Exhibit, then coincidentally moved to the State Department Library in DC just months before a fire that destroyed ravaged the Patent Office.
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Although considered explosion-proof, the statement’s new living quarters contained an open fireplace and permitted smoking, according to the National Archives. At this time, the document was really showing its age, with one writer calling it “old and yellow”. “All the moves and attempts to display it over the decades have had a significant impact on the ink,” says Sneff.
Worried about her condition, the State Department removed the Declaration of Independence in the 1890s and locked it in a steel safe. But it was made public in the 1920s after being transferred to the Library of Congress.
In December 1941, just days after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor, the declaration was transported by train to Fort Knox in Kentucky, where it remained until 1944. There, two Harvard-affiliated curators launched the first documented attempt to fix it. Further restoration work would take place in 2003.
Back at the Library of Congress, much effort has gone into protecting the statement from light and air pollution. Still, humidity remained a problem, and protein-eating beetles were found in the vicinity. So in 1952, under military escort, the Declaration of Independence, the Constitution and the Bill of Rights were moved to their current home in the National Archives.
“We consecrate these records for future ages,” President Harry S. Truman said at the time. “This magnificent hall was built to display them, and the vault below, which we built to protect them, is as safe from destruction as anything the mind of modern man can imagine.”
Other versions of the Declaration of Independence
Reverence for the “signed parchment” version has only grown over time. “Americans tend to treat the signed scroll as the Declaration of Independence,” says Sneff.
As she points out, however, it was originally only used for internal government purposes. “If we focus [solely] on the signed scroll or the act of signing,” Sneff says, “we miss…how the declaration reached people outside of Congress, how they responded, and the influence of the text on other independence movements or equality.
The many other surviving versions include a fragment of the declaration’s earliest known draft; the so-called original draft; and a representation of the so-called “clean copy” that was eventually presented to the Continental Congress.
Additionally, 26 copies of the Dunlap broadside are known to still exist, and there are at least nine surviving broadsides printed in 1777 by Mary Katharine Goddard. Authorized by Congress after fleeing to Baltimore, Goddard’s broadside was the first public release to list the names of the signatories and, Sneff explains, “demonstrates Congress’s commitment to independence even after the British forced them to evacuate Philadelphia”.
Although not directly affiliated with Congress, local flyers were also printed in various cities and towns during the Revolutionary War era.
Meanwhile, in 1823, William J. Stone produced another parchment version, having been authorized by Secretary of State John Quincy Adams to create a facsimile of the famous absorbed copy (which had by then become worn). Particularly iconic, Stone’s work reflects the statement most often found in history textbooks.
Later, Stone’s friend Peter Force was commissioned to make another version, for which he used Stone’s copper plate to print copies on translucent tracing paper. There are currently less than 40 original copies of Stone left, as well as possibly a few hundred copies of Force.
All of these versions differ slightly from each other and, as Sneff says, each “has a story to tell”.