The history of the seal of the United States

In Short

This record chronicles the long, often contentious process of creating the Great Seal of the United States. It traces the early, abandoned committee designs of the Continental Congress, the eventual adoption of the 1782 emblem, and the bureaucratic struggles to maintain that design amidst changing standards of art and heraldry. By grounding the seal’s evolution in the original reports, committee notes, and correspondence of the Founding Fathers, the text transforms a dry administrative history into a surprising study of how a new nation struggled to define its visual identity.

The Story

On the afternoon of July 4, 1776, mere hours after the Declaration of Independence was signed, the Continental Congress recognized a pressing need for a mark of sovereignty. They immediately tasked Benjamin Franklin, John Adams, and Thomas Jefferson with designing a seal. These early attempts were remarkably allegorical and elaborate, leaning heavily on biblical and classical imagery. Jefferson proposed a scene of the Israelites crossing the Red Sea; Adams preferred an engraving of the Judgment of Hercules. Others suggested complex shields filled with symbols of European ancestry. None of these initial concepts gained traction, and the project languished for years as the young nation contended with the chaos of war.

The search for a proper device continued through multiple committees. By 1780, designs began to feature elements that would become iconic: the constellation of stars, the olive branch of peace, and the striped shield. These symbols were heavily influenced by the developing American flag and the need for a "blazon"—a precise heraldic description that could be understood by any skilled artist. William Barton, an amateur heraldist, proved pivotal during this phase, submitting numerous iterations that refined the arrangement of the shield and the eagle.

The breakthrough arrived in 1782 when Charles Thomson, the Secretary of Congress, synthesized the various proposals. He combined the American bald eagle—the heraldic "displayed" pose—with the olive branch and a bundle of arrows. He also finalized the reverse side of the seal, featuring an unfinished pyramid topped by the Eye of Providence, accompanied by the Latin mottos Annuit cœptis and Novus ordo seclorum. Congress approved this design on June 20, 1782.

However, the adoption of the law did not secure the seal's consistency. For decades, the seal was used sporadically and inconsistently. In 1841, without clear authorization, the State Department commissioned a new die that significantly altered the original design, erroneously changing the number and arrangement of the arrows. This "illegal" seal persisted for years, drawing the ire of scholars and heraldists who pointed out its blatant disregard for the 1782 specifications.

The final arc of the history concerns the 1883 push to restore the seal's integrity. Secretary of State Theodore F. Frelinghuysen successfully petitioned Congress for funds to cut a correct die. A committee of experts—including figures from Harvard and Tiffany & Co.—was convened to interpret the original 1782 instructions. Despite their efforts, the reverse side of the seal, long considered too "prosaic" and "spiritless," remained un-engraved and largely relegated to the shadows. The account concludes with the irony of Benjamin Franklin’s famous, lighthearted critique of the eagle—a bird he considered a "bird of bad moral character"—serving as a reminder that even the most official symbols were subjects of vigorous, sometimes irreverent, debate among the founders.

How It Unfolds

The first committee Immediately following the adoption of the Declaration, the Congress attempts to project sovereignty through a committee including Franklin, Adams, and Jefferson. Their initial efforts result in overly literary and allegorical designs, such as Pharoah drowning in the Red Sea, which fail to achieve a consensus.

The shift toward heraldry As the war continues, the focus moves from narrative art to traditional heraldry, with William Barton emerging as a key designer. The designs begin to incorporate stripes, stars, and the eagle, reflecting a move toward a more formal, symbolic language that can be technically "blazoned."

The Secretary’s intervention Charles Thomson takes charge of the competing proposals, reconciling Barton’s suggestions with his own vision for a clean, symbolic emblem. This leads to the official 1782 adoption of the eagle-bearing shield, though the reverse side remains a source of artistic discomfort.

The era of the illegal seal A period of bureaucratic drift results in a redesigned die in 1841 that violates the legal requirements of the 1782 Act. This leads to a decades-long controversy among critics who demand a return to the original, legally mandated specifications.

The final restoration In the 1880s, the State Department organizes a scholarly commission to produce a final, accurate die. While they restore the obverse to its intended form, they ultimately decide the reverse is too aesthetically unappealing to be formally cut, leaving it in historical limbo.

The People

Benjamin Franklin emerges as a playful skeptic of the national symbol. While he initially helped draft the first, unsuccessful seal, he famously criticized the choice of the bald eagle, famously contrasting its "laziness" and "bad moral character" with the more virtuous, native turkey.

John Adams serves as a representative of the classically minded founders, initially favoring intricate, allegorical scenes that reflected the intellectual interests of the Enlightenment. His influence waned as the practical need for a heraldic, rather than literary, device grew.

William Barton acts as the primary technical architect. An amateur heraldist, he bridged the gap between the chaotic, artistic suggestions of the politicians and the rigid requirements of heraldic law, providing the "blazons" that eventually became the official design.

Charles Thomson is the pragmatic administrator who finalized the design. By synthesizing the work of Barton and others, and by adding his own refinements, he provided the coherent, enduring structure of the seal that the government uses to this day.

Theodore F. Frelinghuysen represents the late-nineteenth-century effort to correct historical error. As Secretary of State, he recognized that the government had strayed from the law, and he utilized experts from the academic and commercial worlds to ensure the seal was once again in compliance with its 1782 origins.

In Its Own Voice

The Declaration had been signed about 2 o’clock in the afternoon, and the members of the Congress assembling after dinner desired to complete the evidences of the independence of the United States by formally adopting an official sign of sovereignty and a national coat of arms.

This passage describes the urgency felt by the Continental Congress on the day of the nation's birth.

It is a fine allegorical picture and Adams gives a good description of it in his letter, but it is wholly unsuited to a coat of arms.

This remark assesses the practicality of John Adams's early artistic proposal.

For my part, I wish the bald eagle had not been chosen as the representative of our country; he is a bird of bad moral character; he does not get his living honestly.

This quote highlights Benjamin Franklin's humorous and lasting dissent regarding the choice of the national bird.

What It's Really About

The book is a study in the tension between idealism and bureaucracy. It asks how a new democracy, lacking a monarchical tradition, creates a permanent image of its own legitimacy. The central argument is that the seal is not merely a picture but a legal document; the history of the seal is the history of the United States attempting to reconcile its lofty, symbolic ambitions with the mundane realities of governance. It highlights a recurring theme: the difficulty of maintaining "official" meaning over generations, as different administrators apply their own aesthetic preferences, often in direct opposition to the established law.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy the "backstage" view of history will find this work rewarding. It is a precise, unpretentious, and surprisingly witty account of how the American state struggled to define itself. You will appreciate the contrast between the high-minded, almost frantic deliberations of the Founding Fathers—who wanted to capture the essence of their new empire in a single emblem—and the bureaucratic blunders of the nineteenth century, where officials essentially "fudged" the seal because the legal requirements were inconvenient or aesthetically displeasing.

The prose is straightforward and scholarly without being dry, though the reader should be prepared for the dense, technical language of heraldry, which the author provides to ensure historical accuracy. It serves as an excellent reminder that our national symbols have always been works in progress, subject to the same personal biases, artistic debates, and administrative failures as any other government project. If you are interested in the evolution of American iconography, this book offers a rare look at the often-forgotten, occasionally absurd, and always fascinating process of building a symbol that is intended to last forever, but which requires constant, human effort to preserve.