“I stood by the bed-side of my expiring and much loved father, closed his eyes, and performed the last filial duties of him.”
Charles Thomson was only 9 years old when his father, John, died aboard a ship destined for the British colonies of America. The young Irish boy arrived on America’s shores with his brothers and his father’s body. Three thousand miles away from home and now an orphan, he seemed destined for a path far different from becoming one of the most important, though now largely neglected, figures of America’s founding.
Charles Thomson (1729–1824) was born in County Londonderry, Ireland. When his mother died after giving birth to his brother in 1739, his father decided to move the family to the New World. He got only as far as the capes of Delaware, dying aboard ship while in Delaware Bay.
A Fortuitous Start
Fortunately, Thomson found work in New Castle with a local blacksmith, but the trade would not be Thomson’s future. His mind was too brilliant for that. A few years later, he entered New London Academy in Pennsylvania where he received a classical education, learning Latin and Greek. After several years, he was hired as a tutor at the Academy of Philadelphia (now the University of Pennsylvania), becoming the school’s first hired tutor.
Shortly after Englishman David James Dove arrived as the academy’s English master, Thomson became one of his boarders. The close proximity to the English scholar in and out of the school paid dividends. In 1755, Thomson resigned from his position as a Latin tutor to become head of the Friends’ Public School’s Latin department in Philadelphia. His career in education continued until 1760, when he became a businessman.
Politics, however, defined Thomson’s legacy. In the early 1750s, he joined the Junto, a society founded by Benjamin Franklin in 1727 that later became known as the American Philosophical Society.
He opposed the colony’s policy toward the Lenape (Delaware) Indians, going so far as to serve as secretary for Teedyuscung, a Lenape leader, during official meetings in 1758. His attentive record-keeping demonstrated a skill that would prove unmatched among his peers.
In the mid- and late 1760s, Thomson continued to put his pen to work, stating his displeasure with King George III’s and British Parliament’s policies. He wrote numerous tracts and was a leading figure in organizing protests against the policies. On Aug. 30, 1774, John Adams recognized Thomson’s zeal, calling him “the Sam. Adams of Phyladelphia—the Life of the Cause of Liberty.”
Shortly after Adams made the note in his diary, Thomson married Hannah Harrison, the daughter of wealthy Quaker Richard Harrison. The wedding took place about five years after his first wife, Ruth Mather, and their infant twins died.
Although the couple remained in Philadelphia, Thomson soon found his hands full with more than wedded bliss. The First Continental Congress had been called together, and he played a significant role in its proceedings. Indeed, he became the indispensable man for the First and Second Continental Congress, as well as the Confederation Congress.
Becoming Secretary
On Sept. 4, 1774, the colonial delegates made three decisions: where Congress would meet, who would be the presiding officer, and who would be the congressional secretary. Carpenter’s Hall in Philadelphia and Peyton Randolph of Virginia supplied the answers for the first two questions. When it came to the secretary, the conservatives, led by Joseph Galloway of Maryland, tried to keep Thomson from obtaining the position. The radical wing of the First Continental Congress, however, preferred Thomson. Despite Galloway’s efforts and Thomson’s absence from the initial meeting, he was elected secretary of Congress.
The First Continental Congress was brief, lasting until Oct. 26, 1774. The Second Continental Congress, which convened the following year in May, lasted until March 1781. Throughout both congresses, Thomson proved meticulous in his notetaking. His position, however, required far more than taking minutes. As an executive officer, his signature provided instant credibility to any document, and he was often found advising members of Congress. Importantly, through the many years, he rarely missed a meeting.
When the Declaration of Independence was approved, the full text was given to Thomson’s assistant, Timothy Matlack, to engross. During the session, Thomson copied the text into the Journals of the Continental Congress, considered “the most authoritative manuscript copy.”
As secretary, Thomson also attested the Declaration with his signature, which appears near that of Congress President John Hancock. Their signatures are the only ones on the Dunlap broadside, the first printed version. Thomson also carried the Declaration with other important papers wherever Congress convened. It was forced to relocate frequently during the Revolution.
A visual representation of Thomson’s importance to the Continental Congress is seen in the painting the “Declaration of Independence” by John Trumbull. On the right side of the painting, Thomson stands next to the seated Hancock.
‘Here Comes the Truth!’
Though not a delegate, Thomson was one of the most respected leaders in Congress. His signature was viewed with such authority that Thomas Jefferson noted that “the world gave unlimited credit to whatever was stamped with the name of Charles Thomson.” His advice was coveted and, thanks to his diligent attention to his duties, his notes were taken as gospel. In fact, the common refrain of “Here comes the Truth!” could be heard during congressional meetings whenever Thomson entered the room.
Considering his elevated position in American politics, Thomson was not without enemies. The Galloway incident was certainly early evidence. In 1779, Henry Laurens of South Carolina once denigrated Thomson to Congress. The secretary responded with a 10-page rebuttal of Laurens’s claims. The following year, James Searle of Philadelphia accused Thomson of misquoting him in the minutes. A fight broke out between the two. Samuel Holten of Massachusetts wrote in his diary, “Yesterday Mr. Searle cained the secy. of Congress, & the secy returned the same salute.”
In 1781, the Second Continental Congress became the Congress of the Confederation under the ratified Articles of Confederation. Thomson remained secretary of Congress until resigning in 1789. He witnessed the American Revolution from a position unlike any other participating member. For 15 years, he was the new country’s executive secretary.
In 1783, John Jay, the future chief justice of the Supreme Court, wrote Thomson, stating, “I consider that no person in the world is so perfectly acquainted with the rise, conduct, and conclusion of the American Revolution, as yourself.”
The Final Years
Though largely forgotten today, Thomson’s contributions endure. Shortly after the Declaration was approved, Jefferson, Franklin, and Adams attempted to create a seal for the United States. Their effort was tabled by Congress, though their Latin phrase, E Pluribus Unum (Out of Many, One), was adopted. Another attempt was made in 1780, leading Congress to adopt the design’s olive branch, 13 stars, and the red and white striped shield on a blue field. Congress then referred the matter to the trusted Thomson in early 1782. The Great Seal of the United States was approved June 20.
As a further sign of trust, Thomson was given a letter to hand-deliver to Gen. George Washington, informing him of his election as the first president under the new Constitution. He delivered it on April 14, 1789, at Washington’s home in Mount Vernon.
Thomson was indeed no stranger to anyone, especially Washington, who wrote Thomson commending his service to the young country. “I have to regret that the period of my coming again into public life, should be exactly that, in which you are about to retire from it,” Washington wrote.
“I cannot withhold any just testimonial, in favor of so old, so faithful and so able a public officer, which might tend to sooth his mind in the shade of retirement. … Your Services have been important, as your patriotism was distinguished; and enjoy that best of all rewards, the consciousness of having done your duty well.”
Thomson retiredat 59, but his work was hardly finished. He dedicated himself to religious and scholarly matters, creating the first American translation of the Greek Old and New Testaments, known as the Septuagint.
After his death in 1824, an obituary proclaimed Thomson to be “one of the most virtuous, stedfast, energetic and useful patriots of the Revolution. Few names connected with the history of American Independence deserve more honour than his in reference both to his public and private merits.”
Lewis R. Harley, in his turn-of-the-20th-century biography of Thomson, wrote,
“[As] a finished scholar, he brought judgment into public life; an ardent patriot, he labored incessantly to strengthen the sentiment for independence in Pennsylvania; a skillful organizer, he aided powerfully to hold together the discordant factions of the Continental Congress; in the retirement of private life, he made a valuable contribution to Biblical literature.”
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