Women of the Revolutionary War: Unsung American Heroes of 1776

My Dearest Mother and Father,

I pray this letter finds you in health and in God’s good keeping. The days here with the army are long, yet I am grateful that I may remain at John’s side. The marching is hard, and the cold wind bites us sharply now, but still I take comfort in the company of the other wives who tend to their husbands just as I tend to mine. We wash the linens, mend torn coats, and keep the kettles filled, for without these small labors the men could not endure the hardships of the field.

Two days past, our encampment was ordered to Fort Washington. The sound of cannon fire echoed from the heights, and smoke hung thick in the trees. When the fighting grew fierce, John would not allow me to stay behind. “If I fall,” he said, “I know you will not leave my side.” And he was right. I took my place behind the gun with the rest of the crew, carrying water and powder as swiftly as my feet would allow.

Mother, Father — I confess the truth plainly: I have never known fear as I did that day. Yet I have never known such resolve either. When John fell beside the cannon, struck dead in an instant, something within me hardened like iron. I stepped forward to take his place, ramming the charge and sighting the gun as the others had taught me. The recoil shook my whole frame, but I kept firing until the smoke stung my eyes and the enemy overran our position.

I survived, though badly wounded. The surgeons say I will bear these injuries all my days, yet I do not regret the path I have walked. I only wish you to know that John died bravely, and that I did my duty beside him.

I hope to return home when I am able. Until then, think of me kindly and know that your daughter remains your loving and obedient child,

Margaret