The vivid memories of my childhood, filled with grass-stained petticoats and the adventurous construction of hay bale forts, are treasures I will cherish for the rest of my life. I will never forget the rich, earthy scent of camp, mingled with the smoke from the fire, a fragrance woven into the very fabric of my being. In between the endless kitchen campfires, the dining fly was filled with the sighs and complaints of my mother and adopted aunts, each expressing the same frustration; while the men enjoyed their lively games of war, the women were left to toil over simmering pots and attend to rambunctious children. I often stood there as a spirited girl in a dress, clutching a toy musket, wondering why such inequality existed. This experience left a lasting impression that would shape my future endeavors in unexpected ways.
Though my past experiences have undeniably shaped my future, there was a period in my early twenties when history did not capture my heart. Seeking solace and understanding in the face of a complicated childbirth, I picked up Dr. Randi Hutter Epstein’s book, “Get Me Out: A History of Childbirth.” As I delved into the pages, I was particularly drawn to her chapter detailing the 18th century. Here, she shared a poignant account from Roger Lamb, a soldier in the 9th Regiment of Foot. He recounted the harrowing tale of how this sergeant’s wife was unexpectedly found in the depths of the woods by a group of compassionate Quakers, clutching the “very pains of childbirth.” What moved me in this extraordinary story was Lamb’s recounting of her bravery:
“She had determined to brave the dangers of the woods in order to reunite with her husband; she crossed the shimmering expanse of Lake George and, amidst the towering trees and whispering winds of the forest, was overtaken by the harrowing sickness of labor. She must have surely perished, had she not been providentially discovered by those kind-hearted souls who welcomed her into their shelter.”
At that moment, a spark ignited within me. I felt an urgent desire to unravel the stories of these remarkable women whose resilience and courage paralleled my own struggles. This was not the narrative I was familiar with during my upbringing, so I found myself wondering: what were the lives of those followers truly like?
With the invaluable guidance of some extraordinary mentors, I immersed myself in every book, manuscript, and research article that crossed my path. I found myself deep within the dusty, dimly lit confines of archives, unearthing original documents penned by field officers who often referred to this group simply as “the women.” What was uncovered was truly illuminating: vast mobile communities that accompanied the army, playing crucial roles in the operations essential for its survival. It was composed of wives, family members, enslaved individuals, and servants, representing a rich tapestry of ethnic and religious backgrounds, each contributing their unique skills and resilience to the ever-moving military landscape.
Through my journey, I found that even George Washington grappled with the complexities of the women who followed the soldiers during the Revolutionary War. In 1777, he voiced his exasperation over the swelling numbers of women and children accompanying the troops, describing them as a “…clog upon every movement.” These women frequently defied orders, refusing to stay on foot with the baggage wagon and charging exorbitant prices for their laundry services. Their presence posed significant logistical challenges, as they represented additional mouths to feed amid dire food shortages that plagued the army. Yet, as the war drew to a close, Washington’s perspective evolved. He became acutely aware of the moral quandary involved in imposing ration limits on these women and children, who endured the same hardships as the soldiers. In a letter to Robert Morris in 1783, he acknowledged the profound difficulties they all faced:
“The Cries of the Women—the sufferings of their children—and the complaints of the Husbands would admit of no alternative…In a word I was obliged to give Provisions to the extra women in these Regiments or loose by Desertion—perhaps to the Enemy—some of the oldest and best Soldiers in the Service.”
As I delved deeper into the lives of these remarkable women, my desire to authentically represent their stories grew stronger. This passion was echoed by a wave of fellow interpreters who also came to appreciate the significance of these pivotal roles. Over the past decade, as groundbreaking research has emerged, an increasing number of women have united to bring to light the compelling narratives of followers. This has led to a vibrant surge of groups dedicated to celebrating and preserving civilian contributions during this tumultuous wartime. These organizations are composed of some of the most astute, scholarly, and passionate historians I have ever had the privilege of knowing, each bringing their unique perspective and expertise to the collective effort.
While we’ve made significant strides since the days when our mothers and aunts were largely confined to the kitchen, there remains a considerable amount of work to do. It seems to be far too easy to accept the patriarchal narratives commonly presented in school textbooks, which often prioritize tales of valiant battles and heroic generals. This narrow perspective frequently overlooks the rich history of those marginalized groups who supported the soldiers in the first place. Those tasked with managing historical sites and developing events must engage thoughtfully with the public to ensure our legacy is not only preserved but also vividly appreciated. For history to resonate with contemporary audiences, it must be continuously crafted to attract visitors in diverse and meaningful ways. Much like the way Roger Lamb’s compelling story captivated me personally, a multifaceted portrayal of history will resonate with a variety of audiences—from the eager child who begs their parents for a John Adams costume to the reluctant wife attending cannon firings alongside her husband.
A richer narrative ensures that everyone finds something familiar and engaging in our past. I am wholeheartedly committed to fostering a genuine and nurturing environment, not just for the dedicated interpreters who generously devote their time and expertise, but equally for those eager individuals who seek to learn. We serve as the voices of American history, passionately recounting its rich tapestry. As we embark on the exciting journey of celebrating the 250th anniversary of our Nation’s foundation, let us declare it as a tribute to the remarkable contributions of women.
References
Adams, Abigail. “Letter to John Adams.” Massachusetts Historical Society , 31 Mar. 1776, https://www.masshist.org/digitaladams/archive/doc?id=L17760331aa.
Allison, Samantha. “Laundry: The Primary Occupation of Followers | Washington Crossing Historic Park.” Washington Crossing Historic Park , 28 Feb. 2024, https://www.washingtoncrossingpark.org/laundry-the-primary-occupation-of-followers/#:~:text=Laundry%20was%20the%20primary%20occupation,cook%20their%20rations%20for%20consumption.
Epstein, Randi Hutter. Get Me Out: A History of Childbirth from the Garden of Eden to the Sperm Bank. W. W. Norton & Company, 2011.
“General Orders, 4 August 1777.” Founders Online: Home, 4 Aug. 1777, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/03-10-02-0508.
Hagist, Don N. “Three Brave British Army Wives – Journal of the American Revolution.” Journal of the American Revolution, https://www.facebook.com/reporting.revolution/, 28 Oct. 2014, https://allthingsliberty.com/2014/10/three-brave-british-army-wives/.
Washington, George. “Letter to Robert Morris.” Founders Online: Home, 29 Jan. 1783, https://founders.archives.gov/documents/Washington/99-01-02-10529.
Written by Samantha Allison, Civilian Coordinator, Friends of Washington Crossing Park
