Women Soldiers, Combatants, and Spies in the American Revolution

When I began writing my American Patriot Series, I realized that the storyline I envisioned would require my heroine, Elizabeth Howard, to do many things one doesn’t usually associate with 18th century women at the time of the American Revolution. I wanted the story to be as authentic as possible—no modern-day women in historical clothing! When I started doing research, I discovered that, in fact, women were involved in a whole lot of activities during the Revolutionary War that most of us have never heard about. So here are a few brief accounts of some of the ways women became directly involved in fighting for our independence.

Sybil Ludington Statue

On April 26, 1777, two years and eight days after Paul Revere made his famous ride, Sybil Ludington, the daughter of Col. Henry Ludington, a New York militia officer and later an aide to General George Washington, did essentially the same thing. Except that she was 16, a girl, and she rode more than twice the distance Revere did. Not to mention that her route was a whole lot more daunting, and much of the way it rained hard. Learning that Governor William Tryon’s troops were marching on Danbury, Connecticut, 15 miles away, to carry off the militia’s munitions and stores, Sybil immediately jumped on her horse and took a 40-mile jaunt to rouse the countryside, while her father mobilized the locals. She left her home at Fredericksburgh, NY, at 9:00 p.m. and arrived back home at dawn. By then almost the whole regiment of 400 soldiers had mustered due to her warning. They were on the march within a couple of hours and engaged the British at the Battle of Ridgefield. Although they arrived too late to stop the sack of Danbury, they drove Tryon’s forces back to Long Island. After the war, in 1784, then twenty-three year-old Sybil married Edmund Ogden, a farmer and innkeeper. They had six children and in 1792 settled in Catskill, NY, where they lived until Sybil’s death on February 26, 1839, at the age of 77. She is buried near her father in the Patterson Presbyterian Cemetery in Patterson, NY.

Frontispiece of The Female Review: Life of Deborah
Sampson, the Female Soldier in the War of Revolution

There’s no way to know how many women actually served as soldiers during the war by disguising themselves as men, but we do know about 4 who did. Probably the most well-known is Deborah Sampson. Born in 1760, in Plympton, Massachusetts, she enlisted in Captain George Webb’s Company of the 4th Massachusetts in 1782, calling herself Robert Shurtleff. By all accounts she performed her duties admirably and  achieved the rank of corporal. During her first battle, on July 3, 1782, outside Tarrytown, NY, she took two musket balls in her thigh and suffered a cut on her forehead. She managed to avoid detection then, but later was discovered to be a woman. Honorably discharged, she was later granted a pension for her services. The Massachusetts legislature issued a declaration stating that she “exhibited an extraordinary instance of female heroism by discharging the duties of a faithful, gallant soldier.” Sampson later talked about her experiences in the war as a lecturer, saying that she enlisted because of the unjust deaths of colonists at the hands of British soldiers.

Detail of Battle of Germantown by Christian Schussele

Anna Maria Lane probably married her husband, John, before he enlisted in the Connecticut line in 1776 under General Israel Putnam. It isn’t clear if she also disguised herself as a man or just accompanied him as a camp follower. We do know that by the Battle of Germantown she was wearing men’s clothing, though that may have been for convenience. The records of Virginia’s General Assembly state that she “with the courage of a soldier, performed extraordinary military services, and received a severe wound at the battle of Germantown.” Following the war, the Lanes moved to Virginia, and both drew pensions for their service.

Two other women are known to have fought in the Revolution. Sally St. Clare was a Creole girl who lost her life in the war. Another known only as “Samuel Gay,” was discovered to be a woman and discharged. It’s likely others also served in the army as men but were never detected.

Molly Pitcher at the Battle of Monmouth,
engraving by J.C. Armytage, c. 1859

Still other women became combatants when need arose. You’ve undoubtedly heard the name “Molly Pitcher,” which was attached to a woman who stepped in to service her husband cannon after he fell. There’s some evidence that at least two women performed such duties. Mary Ludwig Hays McCauley accompanied her husband, John, who served with the Seventh Pennsylvania Regiment. During the Battle of Monmouth, New Jersey, on June 28, 1778—which will be portrayed in book 6 of my series, Refiner’s Fire—she was hauling water to her husband’s cannon for the sponger to swab out the barrel, when John collapsed, either because of a wound or the day’s extreme heat. Mary immediately stepped up and took his place, assisting the gun crew for the rest of the battle.

Corbin Memorial, West Point Cemetery,
United States Military Academy

Margaret Cochran Corbin was married to John Corbin, another artilleryman, who was killed in the Battle of Fort Washington in November 1776. She also filled her husband’s place at the cannon, assisting in sponging and loading, and received grape shot wounds in the arm and chest. Disabled for the rest of her life, she was an original member of the Invalid Regiment that Congress created in 1777 to care for disabled soldiers. In 1779 Corbin was granted a stipend of $30 and a lifelong pension of half a soldier's pay. She was the first American woman to receive a disabled veteran's pension.

Women also served as spies during the Revolution. A laundress at British headquarters in Philadelphia alerted Washington to British General Henry Clinton’s withdrawal from the city, and many others served in the shadows, like Lydia Darragh. British officers occupying her house in Philadelphia used a large upstairs room for their secret conferences. Lydia would slip into an adjoining closet and take notes on their plans, and after her husband transcribed the intelligence in a form of shorthand on tiny slips of paper, she enclosed them in fabric-covered buttons, which she sewed onto the coat of her fourteen-year-old son, John. When he visited his elder brother, Lieutenant Charles Darragh, serving with the Continental Army outside the city, Charles would snip off the buttons, write out the notes, and send them to his superior. Lydia also supposedly concealed other intelligence in a sewing-needle packet she carried in her purse when passing through British lines.

Major John André

One of the most well-known female spies today was a member of the famous Culper Ring in the New York City area, who was known only by her codename “355,” which stood for “lady” in the Culper code. Her background is unknown, but it’s speculated that she may have come from a prominent Tory family with access to British commanders. She was one of several young, attractive, and intelligent women surrounding dashing British Major John André. When he was arrested by the Americans and executed as a spy in October 1780, Benedict Arnold, one of Washington’s officers who had defected to the British, questioned everyone associated with him. Agent 355 was pregnant at the time and refused to identify the child’s father, arousing Arnold’s suspicions. He had her arrested, and she was held on the infamous prison ship Jersey, moored in the East River. She bore a son there and died shortly thereafter, never identifying the child’s father. But, tellingly, she named him after Robert Townsend, another member of the Culper Ring.

Yet other women followed Washington's army for safety and subsistence. Many provided services such as cooking, washing and mending clothing, and nursing, and consequently received rations and sometimes pay. In my next post, we’ll take a look at the life of camp followers.

How many of these women have you heard of? Which one do you find most interesting or appealing?

~~~

J. M. Hochstetler is the daughter of Mennonite farmers and a lifelong student of history. She is also an author, editor, and publisher. Her American Patriot Series is the only comprehensive historical fiction series on the American Revolution. Book 6, Refiner’s Fire, releases in April 2019. Northkill, Book 1 of the Northkill Amish Series coauthored with Bob Hostetler, won Foreword Magazine’s 2014 Indie Book of the Year Bronze Award for historical fiction. Book 2, The Return, received the 2017 Interviews and Reviews Silver Award for Historical Fiction and was named one of Shelf Unbound’s 2018 Notable Indie Books. One Holy Night, a contemporary retelling of the Christmas story, was the Christian Small Publishers 2009 Book of the Year and a finalist in the Carol Award.

Unexpected Revolutionary Hero

Posted by Elaine Marie Cooper

Sometimes heroes are not obvious. And certainly no one would envision a Quaker midwife taking on the role of military spy.

Yet that is exactly what Lydia Darragh did in 1777. Displaying admirable courage in a critical hour, she saved the day for General George Washington and his troops in December of that year. Her courageous action brought victory for the Continental forces, changing the tide for the American Army after several discouraging defeats. It was an unexpected change for Lydia, who was born into a Quaker pacifist family in Dublin, Ireland in 1728.

Mrs. William Darragh, who was born Lydia Barrington, emigrated to America with her husband in 1754. The couple made their home in Philadelphia. As members of the Quaker religion, they settled into the large community of fellow believers in that city.

As their faith taught, they preferred peacemaking when the American Revolution began, refusing to become involved in the fighting. The Darragh’s oldest son, Charles, however, left his religious teaching and joined with the Continental forces. When the British took over the city of Philadelphia in September of 1777, Lydia seemed to have a change of heart about remaining neutral as well.

Whether it was a mother’s heart with a son in the Army that piqued her concern or her worries in general about the American cause is unclear. But one thing is certain: Her involvement with a pacifist church made her appear to be harmless to the British cause. But nothing could have been further from the truth.

British General Sir William Howe made his headquarters in a confiscated house directly across the street from the Darragh home. Soon after, British Major John Andre pounded on Lydia’s door demanding that the family evacuate. Lydia, the mother of five, had already sent her youngest two children to stay with relatives for safety. She still had two children at home and begged the major to allow her to stay, as she had nowhere else to go. A distant cousin, who was a British officer, worked in the enemy headquarters across the street. He arranged for Lydia to stay in her home as long as the British could use one of the Darragh’s rooms for military meetings. Lydia agreed.

On the evening of December 2, several British officers, including Howe, arrived at her home and ordered the whole family to retire to bed early. But Lydia only pretended to sleep. While the others slumbered in their rooms, Lydia quietly hid in a closet adjacent to the room where the officers met. Her heart in her throat, she heard them planning a surprise attack on Washington and his soldiers at a place called Whitemarsh. That was where Lydia’s son was stationed with the Continental Army! As the meeting was wrapping up, she quietly snuck back to her room.

Major Andre came to her room and knocked on her door. She feigned being in a deep sleep and ignored the first two attempts by the major to awaken her. By the third knock, she managed to look rumpled and sleepy as she answered. Their meeting was over, the officer told her. She pretended to return to her slumber, but she did not sleep. Lydia lay awake in bed, planning how to get the word to Washington.

The next day, Lydia took an empty twenty-five-pound flour sack to the British headquarters to request a pass to leave the city. She needed flour, she said, and she wished to visit her two youngest children as well. Her cousin became the one who gladly signed a pass for his Quaker relative. I can just see her smiling gratefully for this opportunity to purchase much-needed food for her family.

But any smiling would be short-lived as time was becoming critical. The planned attack on the American troops would take place the next day.

Mrs. Darragh carried the flour sack but, more importantly, the critical message warning of the impending assault. She had tucked the handwritten message in a folder for her sewing needles. Trudging several miles through the snow, she located the Rising Sun Tavern, a known hang-out for Patriots.

An entry in a journal by Elias Boudinot, Commissary of Prisoners, who was dining at the tavern that night, relates this incident:

  “After dinner, a little poor-looking insignificant old woman came in and solicited leave to go into the country and buy some flour. While we were asking some questions, she walked up to me and put into my hands a dirty old needle book, with various small pockets in it.”

The woman left. When Boudinot opened the last pocket, he found a message: General Howe was coming out the next morning with 5,000 men and thirteen cannons.

The next day, the “surprise” British attack against the American forces was thwarted. All because Lydia made a decision to be brave and risk her own life for the lives of others. Although she was later questioned by Major Andre about her possible involvement in spying, Lydia managed to convince him that she had no idea what he was talking about. She had been in a deep sleep the night of the officer’s meeting, after all. He completely believed her tale.

Lydia Darragh’s wartime spying came to light in 1827 when her daughter, Ann, published her mother’s story. In 1877, some questioned the veracity of Ann’s written narrative—until Boudinot’s memoirs were published in 1909, lending credibility to the tale of the courageous Lydia Darragh. Her treasonous actions could have led to her execution. Instead, her mother’s heart led her to unexpected bravery.