Exeter printing, one of 11 known, traveled on captured privateer
For Michael Scurr, a volunteer at the National Archives in Kew, west London, it was “just a boring old Thursday morning” when he sat down in late May to catalogue a collection of documents from the British national collection that had never previously been recorded in detail, Scurr told the Guardian.
As he opened a volume of 18th-century Royal Navy correspondence, however, Scurr unfolded a document whose opening words he recognised. “In Congress, July 4, 1776. A declaration by the representatives of the United States of America …” He turned to his supervisor, who was sitting opposite, and said: “I think you should come and have a look at this.” It was, Scurr said, “a really thrilling moment.”
The document is a copy of the so-called Exeter printing of the declaration, one of just 11 copies to survive and the only one known outside the US. The modest sheet of paper was printed in Exeter, New Hampshire, between July 16 and 19 — the time taken for news to spread of the bold declaration first signed in Philadelphia on July 4. These “broadsides,” like those printed in other major cities, “were designed to be printed quickly, distributed fast, and read and consumed by as many people as possible in as short a time as possible,” said Graham Moore, a records specialist at the National Archives. “This is about news in 1776.”
What makes the discovery particularly remarkable, Moore said, is the “amazingly complete story” of how the copy came to be in the possession of the Royal Navy, and what that reveals about how news of the declaration spread as the new nation sought to assert its autonomy.
The document was discovered among a collection of papers taken from an American privateer vessel called the Dalton, after it was captured by a British warship off the coast of Spain in December 1776. Though other significant papers were passed on to the Admiralty Court — including the privately owned ship’s commission personally signed by Continental Congress president John Hancock — the declaration was not. Instead, it was recorded only as “another document” and forgotten for more than two centuries in the naval archives.
Moore said the Dalton did not dock in Exeter, but it was likely that Eleazer Johnson, the ship’s captain, had bought a copy of the declaration in nearby Portsmouth, New Hampshire, where the ship briefly stopped to pick up more crew.
Johnson was a committed American. After his capture, he declared to a court in Plymouth, UK, that he was a citizen of the United States of America, still considered a treasonous statement by the crown. Amanda Bevan, the head of legal records, said she liked to imagine the captain had read the document aloud on deck. “I have this nice image of Eleazar Johnson on the ship … potentially reading out the declaration of independence to his 120-man crew of diverse nations to say: ‘This is why we’re doing it, this is why we’re putting our lives at risk, this is why we’re heading out into the ocean to take our chances again,’” Bevan said.
Thanks to other documents in the national collection and elsewhere, Moore said researchers know what happened next — including from the published diary of one of the sailors, Charles Herbert. The crew of 120 men — English, Irish, Scottish, French and Danish sailors as well as those declaring themselves American citizens — included one, Daniel Cottle, described in the muster book as being a black man. “This is not uncommon in North America,” Moore said. “It is likely by his role on this privateering ship that he is a free black man in 1776. We do see free black people fighting on both sides of the revolution.”
With the rest of the crew, Cottle was transferred to a guard ship and eventually taken to England, where he was held in the Old Mill prison in Plymouth. “That is really where we lose his story,” Moore said. “It’s possible that with more research we’ll be able to follow him a bit further — it’s likely that he came from Newburyport, Massachusetts, where the majority of the Dalton’s crew come from. So there’s definitely more to his story there.”
Saul Nassé, the chief executive of the National Archives and keeper of public records, said the “vanishingly rare” document was “a powerful reminder that the history of the American Revolution is fundamentally transatlantic.” As well as its documentary importance, he said: “It’s the story that makes this copy so important. Not only is it one of 11 in the world, it also has provenance. From a print shop in Exeter, New Hampshire, to a privateer at sea, to its capture, and eventually to being part of our state’s archives. And that kind of provenance is exceptionally rare.”