Woodchips and Oyster Shells

0 1 2 5 8 11 22 55 69 88 101 111 121 151 181 202 212 222 252 282 505 515 525 555 585 609 619 629 659 808 818 828 858 906 916 926 956 986 1001 1111 1221 1551 1691 1881 1961 2002 IXXI What this means is: Every one of these numbers is the same (Upside-down) when veiwed in digital format. ( Like on a clock radio) Like the date: 10/02/2001Interesting facts from the constitution: IXXI- Date=9-11 The Traditional Practice of Engrossing as it Relates to The Constitution of The United States of America. Submitted in Partial Fulfillment For the Course Requirements of HST 345-A The Constitution By: Dave Adam Daniel Boorstin reminds us that The Constitution of The United States of America is the oldest and shortest written constitution still in use.1 This raises the questions: “ What is the actual document?” “What does it look like?” “Who did the actual ‘penning’ (engrossment)?” “Why engross?” “Was he or she paid?” “How much was paid?” “What would that fee, (if any) be worth in today’s economy?” “What was the order of technology, was the Constitution handwritten first and then copies printed afterwards or vice versa?” “ How is the original parchment preserved and displayed?” “Are there any typographical errors in the engrossment of The Constitution?” “ If so, what are they, and what could be the possible explanation for them?” “ What are some of the technical details about the reproduced engrossment of The Constitution with regard to size of document, medium used for the document, type of ink that was used, etc…?” It is my hope that when I have found the answers to these questions that I will have a better understanding of the creation of this precious document. To fully gain an appreciation for The Constitution, I have chosen to transcribe an engrossment of The Constitution from the Preamble to the Signature page in my own handwriting. In the process of producing a legible engrossment, I hope to also experience first-hand the difficulties this task would present and to report my findings. If this paper only serves to expose some of the little-known facts concerning the engrossment of our Constitution, then I have indeed accomplished my desired goal. My personal interest and experience in engrossing stems from my decade-plus working as a cartographer for a land surveying company. Because I was exposed on a daily basis to the pressures of engrossing near-flawless documents for recordation, I have a profound respect for the “artist” who produced the first engrossment of our Constitution. There are a few thin pieces of paper that have been given the job of keeping America the land of the free. These parchment papers are called The Constitution of the United States of America. Engrossment and presentation of legislation are technical components of the legislative process, they attest to the accuracy of bill texts, confirm passage by the House and the Senate, and confirm delivery of the bills to the President for his review.2 Legal engrossing is a quaint forgotten custom that died soon after the Constitutional Convention. When either house orders the third reading of a bill, it simultaneously orders the engrossment of the bill. Engrossment is the formal reprinting of the bill in the form upon which the chamber will vote final passage. In earlier times, such bills were handwritten in very large script, hence the term “engrossment.”3 Our word “engross comes from the Latin word “ingrossare”, which means to write in large letters. From around 1300, when the English language was taking its modern form, up to the 1790’s, engrossing was a special large handwriting used for formal legal documents. 4 During the summer of 1787, 55 delegates gathered in Philadelphia to design the Constitution. They hired two printers named Dunlap and Claypoole. They, and the delegates, all swore secrecy while the work was in progress. They printed successive drafts for study and correction, and secrecy was never breached. Finally, on September 15, 1787, the Convention finished its work. Most of the Constitution was written by Gouverneur Morris of Pennsylvania after all of the details had been hashed out by a body of 30 to 50 other men. George Washington ordered 500 copies printed and distributed. The Constitution was widely printed and read and fully known to our four million citizens, only then was it rendered into handwriting as a final legal formality. The precious document we keep in Washington, D.C. in the National Archives Building, (since 1952), is only a dramatization, it is theatre.5 The act of transcribing an already printed document into an ornate displayable engrossment was in vogue during the late 18th century. This practice was very much like the trendy practice some exercise today when having photographs sketched by artists to create an artistic likeness of the original. The engrossed Constitution is comprised of four pages of fiber-blend parchment approximately 28 ¾” by 23 5/8” that were engrossed by a man named Jacob Shallus. Shallus was an assistant clerk for the Pennsylvania General Assembly and was paid $30 (comparable to $280 today) to produce an ornate and legally binding engrossment suitable for signing and display. His office was in the same building in which the Convention was held. Engrossers of the day were expected to use flawless and ornate handwriting in their transcriptions, and the use of such unforgiving mediums such as: black permanent indigo ink, blended fabric parchment paper, and steel-tipped quill pens, made it a highly under-paid task for the level of expertise that was demanded. The document that we keep in a bulletproof case filled with helium and water vapor to preserve the paper’s quality; that is lowered into a vault at night behind five-ton doors that are designed to withstand a nuclear explosion, is only a handwritten copy of the original printed version. Our Constitution began its life as a printed document before that handwritten copy was made. Although it has been a common practice to allow the engrosser to leave his trademark or signature on the finished work whenever an engrossment is completed, Shallus was told that he would not be allowed to leave his “mark” on such an important document. When the records were located in 1937, (after a long and careful search of collateral public documents), financial memoranda listing an entry for “clerks employed to transcribe & engross” was discovered. During this search commemorating the 150th anniversary of the Constitution it was determined that Shallus was the clerk hired to engross the copy preserved today. Because of his position as an assistant clerk for the Pennsylvania State Assembly, I find it highly unlikely that Shallus would make the errors that are obvious in his misspelling of the word “Pensylvania” on the 4th and signature page of the Constitution, without good reason. I feel from personal experience that in his position he was the person most unlikely to misspell that word, unless he made the error on purpose. When I drafted subdivision maps for a land surveying outfit in North Carolina, I was often tempted to deliberately make errors as a form of poetic revenge in protest to the long hours, under-appreciated work, and sometimes just to see if the so-called “learned men” would notice. I know this is my theory, but I feel Shallus felt the same way. When I took on the challenge to engross my own copy of this same document, I tried to replicate the difficulty that Shallus faced. I chose to use black permanent markers known as “Sharpies” on college ruled notebook paper. I engrossed the document from the preamble to the signature page using a block-style font and unlike Shallus; I chose to start entire pages over in the event of an error. During the course of this attempt I had to re-start 6 times due to gross error. I also noted a pattern that became obvious to me with the placement of certain words on the pages. I noticed that the word “Shall” (as in Shallus) appeared to fall into the far-left margin of the pages in a majority of the times it appeared in the replicated engrossment. From this endeavor I have gained a great deal of respect for Jacob Shallus, his parchment was a much tougher medium to work with than the paper I used. Although I went through 2 “Sharpies” and 2 ballpoint pens to produce my engrossment, they had to have been a lot easier to use than the quill pens used by Shallus. In conclusion, I feel that we as a nation have spent a lot of money to protect and display the engrossments that have become symbolic with our Nation’s ideals, yet we have done so little to remember those (and in this case, the man), who actually produced the final engrossed document that we so cherish. I grew up with the impression that the engrossed Constitution was the first version of this document, and that it was special to us as a nation because our founding fathers had actually used a “feather-pen” to write these words. Until the time I chose to research the origins of this document, I felt I was right in my assumptions about this. I feel that we as a nation should give credit to where credit is due, and that something more is owed to Shallus. Maybe I am just someone that has grown to appreciate the difficulty of doing what he did. I am not really sure if those who rarely take the time to use a pen and paper these days will agree with me, but once you have actually faced the challenge of engrossing 4,400+ words with a permanent marker or pen, with a focus on minimum error and consistent legibility, then it becomes clear the level of work he achieved. Written October 24th, 2002 © on Apr 20 2002 11:26 AM PST, Dr David A DAm    18 • 0 • 13