Tuesday, July 21, 2026

The Mary Rose's Watery Grave and Resurrection

 

The Mary Rose as depicted in the Anthony Roll, a survey of all of King Henry VII's ships, after her 1636 reconstruction with her distinct carrack profile of high castles fore and aft. Although the number of guns and gun ports is not entirely accurate, the picture is overall a good illustration of the ship.

In 1536 the Mary Rose already had 26 years of service which made her old for a heavy warship in an era when worms, barnacles, and dry rot took a toll on hulls, keels, and decking in addition to the great hazards of foundering in heavy weather, running aground, or being sunk or captured in combat.  But she was the core of English King Henry VIII’s small personal navy and for many of her years his heaviest ship laden with a huge complement of cannon.  She had survived combat, mostly against the French in the naval adventures that the Tudor monarch was able to undertake against his much more formidable Continental enemies.

But she had been in idle reserve for years when she was hauled to dry dock almost completely rebuilt that year with a treasury newly swollen by the King’s seizure and closure of the monasteries. Records of her original conformation and of the reconstruction are sketchy but naval historians and archeologists believe she was probably re-planked with fresh heavy oak from the hull to the decks.  In the process at least one additional deck was added giving her a total of four, the distinctive high fore and aft castles of a carrack raised even more.  She was one of the first war ships outfitted with a new innovation—gun portsthat added two more levels of artillery platforms to the open deck.  In the new form she carried between 78 and 91 guns, although some were light deck swivel guns meant for anti-personnel use.  That was an enormous wallop, although the in-line battle formations that made the use of broadsides so deadly had not yet been developed.  She would have to try to deploy those guns in virtual free-for-all close quarter melees.  In the process of this her tonnage increased about 500 to between 700 and 900 and her complement of crew, soldiers, and gunners swollen considerably.

Henry must have been pleased.  He made Mary Rose the flagship of his navy and set her off in service of his dream of restoring England to major power status.

At the turn of the 16th Century, England, having lost all but a toehold of its French holdings and having been embroiled for years in the dynastic War of the Roses was reduced to being a peripheral European power.  Mighty France was in the ascendency, Spain was newly unified and began to fatten from the plunder of gold and silver from the New World, and its Hapsburg dynasty also had control of the seafaring Low Countries. 

The English were far from the world dominant sea power they would become.  Henry VII, founder of the Tudor dynasty at the end of the War of the Roses was able to maintain only a small personal navy—five or six reasonably heavy ships.  In time of war merchant vessels were hastily and sometimes unsuitably adapted as war ships and small fleets light galleys—the staple of naval warfare since Roman times were slapped together.  Most fighting would be done within sight of shore—often in support of raids, invasions, and land campaigns. 

Open water fleet confrontations were rare, but with the rapid development of global empires would become more important.  Most open ocean combat was commerce raiding and conducted by privateers.


Henry VIII as we are not used to seeing him--a just crowned 20-year-old King who took special interest in the construction of new warships.

At the end of his reign Henry VII had a very small personal navy and only two sizable warships.  Circumstantial evidence indicates that he ordered the construction of the Mary Rose and a slightly smaller companion Peter Pomegranate to join his carracks Regent and Sovereign. Because the old growth giant oaks necessary for the two new ships had to be gathered from forest remnants across England, construction was not begun until just after young Henry VIII, then just 20 years old, assumed the throne.

The ambitious young monarch with big plans evidently took a personal interest in the construction.  He also probably selected her name, either for his favorite sister Mary and the Tudor Rose or for the Virgin Mary as symbolized by a rose.  Perhaps the name even had a double meaning.

Her keel was laid in Portsmouth in 1510 and she was launched in July 1511 and then towed to London and fitted with rigging and decking and supplied with armaments.  No known plans or pictures from life are known from this period and there is some controversy as to her exact conformation, but she drew about 500 tons.  The shape of the hull was a tumblehome form and reflected the use of the ship as a platform for heavy guns. Above the waterline, the hull gradually narrowed to compensate for the weight of the guns and to make boarding more difficult. 

The open deck between the fore and aft castles was meant to accommodate not only artillery, but scores of yeomen longbowmen who could rain death into the rigging and onto the decks of opposing warships.  There would also need to be room for compliments of bruisers capable of wielding cutlasses in boarding parties.   These troopsand additional soldiers if she was on an invasion or raiding mission usually outnumbered the sailing crew and gunners. 

When Mary Rose set sail on her first combat cruise in 1512 she carried 206 sailors; 120 gunners; 22 sailing officers, surgeons, pursers, quartermasters, and the like; and 411 soldiers of all types.  That was a mighty crowded ship.

That year Henry VIII made an alliance with the Spain against the French after his marriage to Catherine of Aragon for the War of the League of Cambrai.  Her first action was as Admiral Sir Edward Howard’s flagship in action against a combined French and Breton fleet in the English Channel.  In action in support of a landing of Spanish troops further south, Howard’s fleet captured 12 Breton ships and conducted landings and raids along the Breton coast.  Her first action was a victory.


The Cordelière and Regent locked in a mutual death grip after a powder magazine explosion on the French ship set both ablaze from a contemporary illustration to a French poem about the battle.

Later that year she got to use her heavy guns against a superior fleet for the first time at the Battle of Saint-Mathieu off the coast of Brest.  Mary Rose reportedly led the charge into a large French/Breton fleet which was disorganized.  In a confused melee fight the English got the upper hand.  The battle is best remembered because the Breton flagship Cordelière and was boarded by the Regent, a newer English ship drawing 1,000 tons.  In the confusing fight the powder magazine of the Cordelière blew up setting fire to the Regent and sinking her.  Only about 180 and of the English ship’s crew and a handful of Bretons survived.  The High Admiral of France and the Steward of the town of Morlaix were among the hundreds killed.  Admiral Howard burned 27 French ships, captured another five and landed forces near Brest to raid and take prisoners.   More damage might have been done but Channel storms caused the English fleet to return to England for repairs.

The war dragged on another two years.  In 1512 Admiral Howard was killed after leading a boarding party against a pesky galley and the fleet returned to England in disarray.  By 1514 the war ended with a new peace between the old rivals and the marriage of Henry’s sister Mary to French King Louis XII.


Mary Rose
other English carracks were taken out of ordinary and spruced up to escort Henry VIII to his rendezvous with the French King Francis I at the Field of the Cloth of Gold in June 1520.  From the 1540 painting The Embarkation of Henry VIII at Dover.

With the outbreak of peace Mary Rose and most other English war ships were laid up in ordinary—docked with a skeleton crew of a dozen or so and minimally maintained until 1522 with one short exceptionshe and other reserve ships were called into service and decorated lavishly to escort Henry to France for his meeting with new French King Francis I at the Field of the Cloth of Gold in June 1520. Their menacing magnificence was meant as a warning to the French king.

Peace could never last too long between the old rivals.  In 1522 Henry allied himself with Holy Roman Emperor Charles V and the Papal States for a war on the Mediterranean power Venice and France.  England planned an invasion of France while French armies, the Austrians and Papal states slugged it out in Italy.  Mary Rose escorted an invasion fleet which captured the Breton port of Morlaix.  She returned to England without serious naval combat.  Most of the rest of the war was conducted on land in France, with the English managing to briefly threaten Paris.  The Scots joined the war on the French side and Mary Rose spent most of the rest of the war patrolling the Channel to deter French counter-raids and harass the Scots.

Meanwhile the French were defeated in Italy at the Battle of Pavia where Francis was captured by armies personally led by Charles V.  in 1525.  That ended Charles’s interest in the war and Henry was forced to withdraw empty handed from France.

Mary Rose returned to ordinary and kept in reserve until 1545.  It was during this period that she was “made new” along with most of the other capital ships of the small Navy under the stewardship of the King’s favorite at the time, Thomas Cromwell.  Despite the enlargement and reconstruction, she returned to ordinary for another nine years after work was completed.

Henry VIII complex marriage arrangements made the former pious Defender of the Faith abandon Catholicism and awkwardly back into Protestantism.  His divorce from Catherine of Aragon who could not produce a male heir precipitated the change.  It also cut him off from his former alliance with Spain.  His very profitable—for him—seizure of the monasteries earned the further wrath of another former ally, the Pope.  Henry and England were diplomatically marginalized and the likely target for a Catholic crusade led by mighty France.

Once again Henry accepted an alliance with Charles V and agreed to cooperate on invasions of France from opposite directions.  Mary Rose was called to escort the invasion force that managed to capture Boulogne at great cost in September 1544.  But Charles made a separate peace with France and left his ally high, dry, and dangerously exposed.  The French were able to concentrate their power against the English.


Galleys swarmed carracks who couldn't bring their broadsides to bear against the fast, maneuverable gunboats. 

In July a huge force under the command of Admiral Claude d’Annebault set sail for England from Havre de Grâce with 128 ships including a large number of nimble Mediterranean galleys and an army of 30,000 or so.  The English could muster only 80 ships, most of them hastily converted merchantmen and about 18,000 troops.  After a brief attempt at a counter raid, the English retreated to Portsmouth.  The French advanced into the strait that separates the Isle of Wight from the mainland. They landed troops on the Isle and advanced on Portsmouth where the English capital ships were becalmed and unable to maneuver.

Henry VIII dined on board Great Harry, the flagship of Admiral John Dudley on the evening of July 18 and then retired to land to watch the battle unfold.  The French attacked with their galleys aiming to swarm and destroy the helpless warships.  The English had only a dozen galleys of their own, which they sent out on a virtual suicide mission to stop the attack.  Then, almost miraculously, the wind suddenly rose.  Led by the venerable Mary Rose, flagship of Vice Admiral George Carew, the English charged the attacking galleys scattering them.  They were driving to the French capital ships when Mary Rose in the van suddenly foundered and sank taking over 400 of her crew and soldiers to their deaths.


Mary Rose
heels over and founders in this 19th Century painting of the disaster.

The French thought that their galleys had managed to get close enough to sink her, but there is no evidence of that.  No one knows exactly how she came to suddenly disastrously take water.  The leading theory is that the inexperienced gun crews—there were hardly any other kind after all of the years of peace— left the lowest tier of gun ports open after a salvo allowing them to be swamped with water as she heeled over in a mild wind to make a turn. Henry watched unbelieving from shore.

Despite the loss, the English charge disrupted and scattered the French fleet.  Meanwhile multiple landings on the Isle of Wight were repulsed in bitter fighting.  They took especially heavy casualties in an assault on the newly built fortress at Bonchurch which was defended by local militia.

His invasion in disarray and his own flagship leaking heavily and in danger of sinking out from under him, Admiral d’Annebault abandoned his attack and sailed back to France.  England had almost miraculously been saved.

The mysterious fate of the gallant Mary Rose quickly became the stuff of legend and of ballads

Her loss and the close call encouraged Henry VIII to modernize his navy.  While still in the King’s Service the fleet was reorganized into the Navy Royal and expanded to 58 vessels by the time of Henry’s death in 1547.  His immediate successors, the boy king Edward VI and Queen Mary let the fleet deteriorate again to a mere coastal defense force.  Elizabeth I is usually credited with the determination to make England a world dominate naval power, but she had to rely on privateers and pirates like John Hawkins and Francis Drake to beat back the next great invasion threat—the Spanish Armada.  It was not until Restoration of Charles II in 1660 that the modern Royal Navy was officially created.


The dive team that discovered Mary Rose--Lt. Comander Alan Bax at center.

As for Mary Rose, she lay unmolested below the straight for centuries until her wreckage was discovered in 1971 after years of searching by teams led by historian, journalist, and amateur diver Alexander McKee and a group led by Lieutenant-Commander Alan Bax of the Royal Navy, sponsored by the Committee for Nautical Archaeology in London.  The two teams were originally fierce rivals with different theories of how she was lost and where exactly she might lay, but eventually combined efforts. She was found buried in silt 1.9 miles south of the entrance to Portsmouth harbor at a depth of just 36 feet at low tide.

The location had to be kept a secret because under British law at the time she could be freely plundered by looters and treasure hunters.  As a thin legal fiction, the discovery teams leased the seabed from Portsmouth harbor to afford questionable protection.  In 1973 Parliament finally passed the Protection of Wrecks Act and the Mary Rose was declared to be of national historic interest and enjoyed full legal protection from any disturbance by commercial salvage teams.  Even then there were years of lingering litigation and “personal items” retrieved from the wreck like chests, clothing remnants, cooking utensils, and some tools were claimed as fair game by salvagers and were in danger of being seized and auctioned off if raised from the wreck. 

It took years for a Mary Rose Committee with representatives from the National Maritime Museum, the Royal Navy, the BBC, and local Portsmouth organizations to raise money, mostly from private donors, to begin serious attempts to save and raise the ship.  The Committee became a registered charity in 1974, the same year it got official Royal patronage from Prince Charles, who made dives to the site. 

By 1978 initial excavation was complete revealing a remarkably intact hull.  Now that the hull was exposed, preservationists had to act quickly before biological decay and the scouring of the currents destroyed the wreckage. 

The cost of raising her would be enormous so a new organization, The Mary Rose Trust was created to raise funds and oversee the operations.  In 1979 the salvage vessel Sleipner was purchased for the operation and diving grew to 50-man teams working nine months a year with scores of additional volunteer divers.  From 1979 to 1982 over 22,000 diving hours were spent on the site, amounting to 11.8 man-years.


Raising Mary Rose.

On the morning of October 11, 1982 just before foul weather would delay the project another year and after years of technological challenges, fits and starts, and sometimes dissention on the team, the operation to raise the wreck finally began.  A special frame built to encase and stabilize the wreck was slowly jacked up on four legs straddling the wreck site to pull her off the seabed. The massive crane of the barge Tog Mor was lifted the frame and hull on to the specially designed cradle which was padded with water-filled bags.  Then with Prince Charles, BBC crew, and scores of excited witnesses the final lift began with the wreck breaking water at 9:02.  Despite one leg of the frame buckling and a corner of the frame slipping nearly 3 feet, the hull was lifted successfully out with minimal damage. 

The hull was brought to the Portsmouth Historic Dockyard by where Admiral Horatio Nelson’s flagship Victory was preserved.  Decades of meticulous preservation work was completed in carefully climate-controlled environments, much of the time with the wreck and work observable to the public behind glass.  Special care also had to be taken with hundreds of artifacts from the wreck which went on display in the nearby Mary Rose Museum. 


Viewing Mary Rose behind glass at the new Mary Rose Museum in Portsmouth.

The new Mary Rose Museum was designed by architects Wilkinson Eyre, Perkins+Wil and carefully built over and around not only the wreck but the historic dry dock at a cost of £35 million.  It opened to the public on May 31, 2013.  More than 80 million visitors have already toured the facility and in 2017 year it was voted the most popular tourist attraction in Europe.

Preservation of the hull is nearly complete.  It is slowly being dried under careful conditions.  But right now visitors can see the resurrected Mary Rose.


Monday, July 20, 2026

1969--Man Oh Man on the Moon


The world was transfixed by the grainy video from a camera attached to the Lunar Module as Neil Armstrong set foot on the Moon.

As Americans and countless others around the world stayed glued to their televisions, Astronaut Neil Armstrong became the first man to set foot on the face of the Moon on July 20, 1969, 57 years ago today. Armstrong, the commander of the Apollo 11 mission climbed down a ladder from the Lunar Module Eagle to the surface in the Sea of Tranquility at 10:56 p.m. Eastern Day Light Time. 

As he climbed down, he repeated a carefully constructed statement on what he knew would be a historic occasion.  Viewers at home heard him say, “That’s one small step for man, one giant step for mankind.”  Armstrong would later insist that he said, “one small step for a man” and that the article had simply not been picked up by the microphone.  It is indicative of Armstrong’s notoriously detailed mind and insistence on precision that this misquote bothered him for years. 

The mission famously made good on President John F. Kennedys 1963 pledge, made at the height of the Space Race with the Soviet Union that the U.S. would go to the Moon within a decade.  


The crew of Apollo 11--Neil Armstrong, Michael Collins, and Buzz Aldrin in their NASA publicity photo.

Like Armstrong, the other two members of the Apollo 11 crew were already veteran astronauts.  Pilot Michael Collins stayed in the main Command Module, Columbia still in orbit while Armstrong and Lunar Module pilot Edwin Buzz Aldrin descended to the surface, a tense trip marked by an alarming shortage of fuel for the rockets that adjusted the attitude of the craft and brought it to a landing.  Less than 11 seconds of fuel were left on touchdown

The business-like Armstrong had been calling off markers on the way down to Mission Control in Houston.  Finally, he radioed, “Houston, Tranquility Base here. The Eagle has landed.”  It took two hours to prepare to depart the lunar module.  Armstrong was soon joined on the surface by Aldrin. The men were on the surface for a little over two and a half hours. 

They shot still photographs, made a panoramic video of the surroundings then set up the camera on a tripod to observe their activities.  They tested various means of moving about on the surface and settled on kind of a lope. The two planted an American Flag stiffened with wire to stay unfurled in the Moon’s windless zero gravity.  They collected rock and soil samples, but everything was taking longer than expected and Aldrin tried to speed up the pace of his assignments before being warned that his pulse rate was climbing.  The pair was given a 15-minute extension of planned EVA (Extra Vehicular Activity) to complete their tasks.  


On the Moon with the Eagle Lunar Module and the American flag of conquest.

Aldrin re-boarded Eagle first and had some difficulty getting a bulky box of mineral samples up the ladder.  After a night’s sleep, the Eagle lifted off to return to Columbia.  Aldrin and Armstrong were on the Moon for just over 21 hours.  They left behind the flag, the landing craft stairs with a special plaque commemorating the event, and discarded items from their EVA including their backpacks, lunar overshoes, and a Hasselblad camera.  There was also a small bag of mementos carried by Aldrin in a suit pocket. 

After Columbia splashed down in the Pacific near Wake Island the capsule and astronauts were carried by helicopter to the deck of the USS Hornet, a famous aircraft carrier from World War II, where they were personally greeted by President Richard Nixon.  


President Richard Nixon with the Apollo 11 crew in isolation on the USS Hornet.

With the war in Vietnam still raging, dissent rife at home, and urban riots exploding in Black communities, Nixon—and the nation—craved some good news. 

The occasion of the landing has become beyond iconic.  Many historians now regard it as the pinnacle of the American Century.  Unsuspected by most people at the time, the county was on the verge of a long, slow slide. 

Crisis after crisis from the OPEC oil embargo of the ‘70s, terrorism, through endless wars, rapid de-industrialization, competition from rising economies, climate change-fueled natural disasters, a global pandemic, to today’s crisis of democracy and a starkly divided population have hammered the country. 

After the last Space Shuttle retired, NASA no longer had the capacity to launch astronauts into space and had to hitch rides from the Russians and other nations to the International Space Station and its successors.  The hardware part of space exploration was handed willy-nilly over to private corporations and billionaire vanity projects who squandered their investments in space tourism schemes.  Their rockets to launch satellites have proved unreliable.  Troubled Boing stranded two astronauts in orbit on a test run of its newest spaceship, Starliner.  Instead, a series of leaks and malfunctions have caused NASA to delay the duo’s return for months.  

The image of Armstrong on the Moon is a melancholy reminder that once we were a nation that could do things, big things.

In his first term Resident Trump aiming to cast himself in the image of JFK ordered NASA to return men to the Moon within five years but gave the gutted agency scant resources to complete the mission.  In celebration of capitalism and scorn for government accomplishments, hope is pinned on two competing privately owned corporations to build re-usable rocket systems to first transport astronauts and equipment to the International Space Station from which a new mission to the Moon might be launched.

 


Buzz Aldrin's, (second from the right) skeptical, shocked mugging during Donald Trump's unintelligible blathering about space became a social media sensation.

Neil Armstrong died in 2012 and Michael Collins in 2021. But 96-year-old Buzz Aldrin is still with us.  Aldrin enjoys his celebrity status and makes frequent public appearances including a memorable stint on Dancing With the Stars.  He is a strong proponent of the space program and an advocate for manned space exploration and a return to the Moon.  In 2017 he accepted an invitation from the Grifter-in-chief to attend a White House speech on the space program.  He became a viral social media sensation for the contorted faces he made as his host spouted literal gibberish.  Way to go, Buzz!

Despite, or perhaps because of all this, Americans commemorated the golden anniversary of the nation’s crowning achievement in 2019 with enthusiasm tempered by nostalgia.  The film First Man focused on Neil Armstrong played by Ryan Gosling.  The documentary Apollo 11 enjoyed a well-reviewed theatrical release.  PBS aired multiple documentaries and less prestigious cable outlets like The History Channel and The Sci-Fi Channel had offerings of their own.  Broadcast TV networks all had special programing.  Apollo Mission Control at the Johnson Space Center in Houston was meticulously restored and opened to the public.


The movie Fly Me to the Moon starting Scarlet Johansson and Channing Tatum was more about the orchestrated hype of manned space flight by NASA and a conspiracy theory fake than either scientific achievement or astronaut heroism.

Five years later there was far less ballyhoo.  Commemoration of the event was swamped by the attempted Trump assassination, President Joe Bidens political free fall, and a breathtakingly divisive election in November.  The biggest cultural acknowledgement that year was Fly Me to the Moon.  The flick stared Scarlett Johansson as a savvy flack hired by the government to help swing public opinion back in favor of space exploration.  Included in her arsenal was a faked first man walk on the Moon “just in case something goes wrong up there.”  That played to a popular conspiracy theory that the whole mission was faked by Stanley Kubrick.

The bloom was off the rose. 


Artemis II, a high-flying step to the return to the Moon.

This year NASA visited the neighborhood of the Moon in the U.S. manned missions flight beyond low Earth orbit since Apollo 17 in 1972.  Artemis II with a crew of five blasted on Artemis II Space Launch System (SLS) rocket and the Orion spacecraft Integrity on a mission to fly by the Moon and enter Moon orbit.  In the process the capsule and crew reached the furthest from the Earth by a manned mission, broadcast and recorded detailed images of the so-called Dark Side of the Moon, and oohed and awed Earthrise over the Lunar horizon.  The crew landed safely and cleared the way for the  Artemis IV mission to actually return to the Moon's surface scheduled for 2028.  That is if the technical difficulties the private built launch system that plagued development before don't return.

Trump, course, took credit for the whole thing even if it will take more than twice as long as his original goal due in no small part to starving NASA with slashed personnel, arbitrary slashes to research and development and actual productions, and anti-science hectoring.  It was made possible by Joe Biden's recommitment to the program during the window of his four years in office.

Most folks paid little attention to all of that background noise.  They were excited and there was a feverish run for the five plucky astronauts to shake hands, wave to crowds, and make stirring mini-speeches.  Then the Aremiss II bloom was off the rose again as the next big thing--the FIFA World Cup, grabbed all the attention.  

Sunday, July 19, 2026

Corky Siegel at the Woodstock Opera House--Murfin Verse


Corky Siegel at the Woodstock Opera House 

July 18, 2026 

        The crowd was mostly well over sixty

            and just south of death

            in assorted sizes and shapes 

            and conditions of decrepitude.

                pot bellies and bald heads, razor cut perfection, 

                casual neglect and stray ponytails,

                baseball caps here and there bills forward,

                beards wispy and well tended,

                golf course tans, and ashen pallor,

                Hawaiian shirts, commemorative T's,

                no faux hippie tie dye in sight,

                Shorts, jeans, and what might be pajama bottoms.

            Ladies as slender as runway models 

                and plump as babushkas,

                hair dyed and coifed or left defiantly gray,

                simple print sun dresses, night out to the nines,    

                and any old thing at all.

            All paired up in unexpected combinations

                or lonely lurkers in the crowd.

        Once we were all young and beautiful,

                bopping out in smokey dive bars,

                at sun drenched street festivals,

                in cavernous old ballrooms,

                or benefits at the Wobbly Hall.

        As Corky got down and wailed on the mouth harp,,        

                we closed our eyes and for a moment

                were once again.

--Patrick Murfin


This Could Be the Start of Something Big--Women Siting Down to Tea in Seneca Falls Were Present at Creation

    

 Mrs. Stanton reads the draft of the resolution.

Note:  This celebration of the Seneca Falls Women’s Rights Convention has been noted here several times before.  And it deserves to be.  It is also a reminder of how powerful just a handful standing up to all of the norms and expectations of their society can spark kindling that over time becomes a roaring bonfire.  Change is possible—even deep, fundamental, and revolutionary change.  The actions of a few, sustained over time and adversity, can lead to the paradigm shifts that seem to transform societies overnight.  Our own lonely collaborations around kitchen tables and in church basement meeting rooms may at this very moment be igniting that change.

1848 was the year of revolution in Europe.  On this side of the pond another kind of revolution, one that continues to this day, had its beginnings in a hastily called meeting in a small industrial town in Upstate New York

The Seneca Falls Womens Rights Convention which was called to order on July 19, 1848, was hastily arranged by a group of ladies who came together over tea at the home of Jane Hunt to meet a visiting celebrity.  Lucretia Mott was a leading anti-slavery advocate and noted public speaker from Boston.  Attending the tea were Mary Ann McClintock; Martha Coffin Wright, Mott’s sister; Elizabeth Cady Stanton, a young mother and veteran anti-slavery advocate, and Hunt.

Except for Stanton, the women were all members of the Society of Friends—the Quakers. Stanton was a Freethinker, although it was unlikely that her friends then understood how radical her religious views were.

 

                                                            A young Elizabeth Cady Stanton about the time of the convention.

Stanton recalled meeting Mott in 1840 at the International Anti-Slavery Convention in London where women in the American delegation were denied recognition seating.  She then, according to her account many years later, went on a diatribe about the general condition of women and their lack of economic and political rights.  Mott was impressed and the two began a friendship by correspondence when they returned to the U.S.

 

Quaker Lucretia Mott was already a senior activist in the Anti-Slavery movement.  Seen here with her supportive husband James in 1842.  James took the chair for the second day of the convention. 

In Hunt’s parlor, the discussion begun in London was shared.  The women eagerly added their own accounts and grievances.  It is unclear if Stanton, Mott or both came to the gathering with a plan or if it arose spontaneously.  In either event the women decided to call a convention to discuss advancing the status of women.  But it had to be done quickly before Mott, the major draw to such an event, left the area.  McClintock, only 27 years old, and Stanton were given the principal assignment of making the arrangements.  The local Wesleyan Methodist Chapel, the frequent site for anti-slavery, temperance, and other reform cause meetings, was secured as a venue for a meeting scheduled only eight days after the tea.  A brief call to the meeting was placed in the local Seneca County Courier which was picked up by Frederick Douglass North Star and other reform publications. 

Meanwhile Stanton was given the task of drawing up a Declaration and a set of resolutions.  Shrewdly, she drew from Thomas Jeffersons soaring rhetoric in the Declaration of Independence.  She wrote that “all men and women had been created equal” and went on to list eighteen “injuries and usurpations,” the same number of charges leveled against the King in the original document, “on the part of man toward woman.”

She also drafted eleven resolutions, most of them dealing with the rights of women to own property, conduct business in their own name, and other legal and economic reforms.  Ten had been broadly agreed to at the tea.  On her own authority, Stanton added another, which she placed in the ninth spot which read, “Resolved:  That it is the duty of the women of this country to secure to themselves their sacred right to the elective franchise.”  

The addition even shocked Mott, who was afraid the inclusion of a demand for the right to vote would be so radical that it would discredit the whole document.  By Stanton’s later account Mott exclaimed, “Why, Lizzie, thee will make us ridiculous.”  But all agreed to submit it to a vote of the convention. 

On such short notice the meeting was hardly a national event.  Many prominent women and reformers from Boston, Philadelphia, and New York City were unable to attend—indeed were likely completely ignorant it was taking place.  Attendees were drawn from the immediate area around Seneca Falls.

Luckily for the organizers the Finger Lakes Region was populated by some of the most progressive and reformed-minded people in the U.S.  Heavily populated by progressive Quakers, reform minded Methodists, Universalists and other religious groups, it was a hot bed of early Abolitionism and of other reform movements, especially Temperance, the mother cause for many first-generation feminists.  

 

Abolitionist Fredrick Douglass helped publicize the Convention in his newspaper the North Star and spoke forcefully in support of the Declaration and Resolution, helping to sway the support of most men in attendance.   He and Stanton became life long friends and collaborators, each supporting the others work.  In today's movement lingo the recognized intersectionality. 

The call went out not just to women, but to sympathetic men, of whom there were several, including Lucretia’s husband James, a leading anti-slavery crusader and Fredrick Douglass from Rochester.  Stanton’s husband Henry was a lawyer who advised her on points of law while she was drafting the resolutions.  But he had political ambitions and was frightened by the call for the vote for women so he arranged to be out of town during the convention so his name would not be associated with it.

The convention started in the middle of a rare blistering heat wave.  Temperatures would reach the 90’s both days.  A sizeable crowd, including 40 men, was outside the Methodist church waiting for admittance at 10 A.M.  Unfortunately, in the press of events, no one remembered to ask the Sexton to unlock the building.  Stanton’s young nephew had to be boosted through an open window to unbar the door.

Soon the crowd filled the main floor and overflowed into the balcony.  Men had been asked to attend only the second day, but seeing so many there, they were admitted but asked to refrain from speaking until the next day.  McClintock was appointed secretary. 

 

The Wesleyan Chapel as it appears today, its exterior restored by the National Park Service. 

The first day was largely taken up by speeches by Mott and Stanton, a humorous reading, and a first reading of the Declaration and Resolutions.  To conduct business the next day, no woman would step forward to claim the chair.  It was considered unseemly for a woman to preside over men.  James Mott was called onto chair the morning session where the Declaration and resolutions were debated.  All of the resolutions passed unanimously except the motion on suffrage, which experienced significant resistance.

Then Fredrick Douglass took the platform and delivered an eloquent plea of support for the resolution:

In this denial of the right to participate in government, not merely the degradation of woman and the perpetuation of a great injustice happens, but the maiming and repudiation of one-half of the moral and intellectual power of the government of the world.

His argument swayed the attendees who voted heavily in favor, although not unanimously, and there were some walk-outs. It would not be the last time Douglass and other prominent Black Abolitionists came to the aid of early Feminism.

Emboldened by the radical turn of events Mott offered a twelfth resolution, although she must have known that it would cause the loss of support for the cause from several clergy present:

Resolved: For the overthrowing of the monopoly of the pulpit, and for the securing to woman equal participation with men in the various trades, professions and commerce.

The assembly, made up largely of Quakers, a faith without ordained clergy but which allowed women like Mott to be recognized as lay preachers, easily passed the addition.  Predictably some of the clergy in attendance, although never offering objection at the meeting, went back to their churches to denounce the meeting and its document.

Out of an estimated three hundred in attendance one hundred women and men signed the Seneca Falls Declaration, although subsequent criticism caused some of them to remove their names.  There were separate columns for the endorsements of women and men. 

The organizers considered the meeting a success.  Douglass prevailed upon Mott to stay in New York long enough for a second convention to be held two weeks later in Rochester.  Over the next two years similar local or state conventions were held in Ohio—where Sojourner Truth made her famous Ain’t I a Woman speech—Indiana, and Pennsylvania.

The novelty of the event and its radical declaration drew considerable press notice, some of it supportive, but most of it either ridiculing or reviling the meeting and its organizers.  Most of the reformist press was more or less positive.  Horace Greely offered tepid support in the New York Tribune.  But rival James Gordon Bennett derisively printed the entire Declaration in the New York Herald expecting that the document was so outrageous that it would self-destruct. 

Stanton had another opinion:

Just what I wanted…  Imagine the publicity given to our ideas by thus appearing in a widely circulated sheet like the Herald. It will start women thinking and men too; and when men and women think about a new question, the first step in progress is taken.

Despite the publicity at the time many participants did not think of the Seneca Falls Convention as foundational.  Mott regarded it as just one of many meetings she attended or addressed and as just a part of an on-going process.

Others would look to the 1850 National Womens Rights Convention in Worcester, Massachusetts as the true beginning of an organized movement.  By that time Stanton had become the ally of another rising feminist, Susan B. Anthony and women’s suffrage took center stage as the main demand instead of being a controversial add-on. 

 

Stanton's position with her partner Susan B. Anthony as the most important senior leaders of the Suffrage Movement was endangered by her open avowal of radical Free Thought.  Her 1876  history of the Women's movement helped establish the Seneca Falls Convention the foundational moment of the movement and remind readers of her pivotal role. 

It wasn’t until 1876 when the now gray Stanton published the first volume of History of Woman Suffrage that she celebrated the Seneca Falls meeting as foundational, “the greatest movement for human liberty recorded on the pages of history—a demand for freedom to one-half the entire race.”  Despite the derision of rival Lucy Stone, Stanton’s late assessment became enshrined as the central act in a creation story. 

By the time that book was issued, Stanton had been marginalized in the movement.  Even her closest ally, Anthony, sometimes kept her at arms distance because of her scandalous Freethinking views on religion.  Many leaders believed the support of church women was essential to furthering the cause and Stanton was a red flag in the eyes of many of them. 

Some historians now believe that Stanton may have inflated the importance of the Seneca Falls meeting in the book to regain her place as central to the movement’s history.  But then again many of those same historians are as uncomfortable with Stanton’s apostasy as were the likes of Lucy Stone.  

 

First Wave sculpture group by Lloyd Lillie depicting 20 Seneca Falls convention attendees including Mary Ann and Thomas McClintock, Lucretia and James Mott, Jane and Richard Hunt, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, Frederick Douglass, Martha Wright and 11 anonymous participants representing men and women who attended the Convention.

Discounting the myths that have grown up around the event—it was not a national convention, men were not only in attendance but played leading roles, and suffrage was not the main focus—the contemporary press accounts of the event and the energy that it gave to ongoing efforts, not the least of which was launching Stanton’s career, make it clear that to be at Seneca Falls was to be present at creation.