I headed down to the Museum of the American Revolution recently to catch a “live” press preview for a new exhibit, When Women Lost The Vote, A Revolutionary Story, 1776-1807 (through April 25, 2021). This was the second “live” press event in the city since covid shuttered the city’s arts and cultural scene back in March.
The first museum to host a non-virtual event for the press was The Barnes Foundation, when it presented a memorable breakfast and viewing of (the extraordinary) Elijah Pierce’s America (till January, 2021), less than ten days before.
At both events there was a high turnout although an official at the Barnes informed me that a portion of press did not RSVP because of continued covid fears. Congratulations to both museums for taking a much needed bold leap forward. I think I speak on behalf of many Philadelphians who say that they have had enough of virtual reality.
At the Museum of the American Revolution I was struck by an exhibit honoring Revolutionary War hero, Deborah Sampson. I had never heard of Sampson before but reading the highlights of her story caused me to want to learn more about her.
In short order, Sampson dressed as a man in order to enlist in Washington’s Continental Army. After one failed attempt to do so, she finally succeeded and served as a male soldier for 17 months before she was found out.
Sampson was one of 7 children born (December 17, 1760) in Plympton, Massachusetts to Jonathan and Deborah Sampson, both descendents of noteworthy Pilgrims. Deborah’s mother was the granddaughter of MA Governor William Bradford. When she was five years old, Deborah’s father left the family to marry another woman and start a new family, so her mother, financially overwhelmed, farmed out her children to different households. At age 10, Deborah began work as an indentured servant for Deacon Benjamin Thomas, a farmer in Middleborough, where she would work until she turned 18.
Single women in that era had some autonomy but marriage placed women under the authority of their husband.
The few sketches of Deborah that exist show a woman with a long and narrow androgynous face. Looking at the sketch of Deborah in the museum I was reminded of the face of novelist George Sand: not especially pretty in the traditional feminine sense, but handsome enough to appear, with the right costuming, as a somewhat attractive slender dark haired young man.
Deborah developed significant skills as a weaver. Many weavers in the colonial era worked in taverns, and many taverns had looms that were rented by weavers for a period of time. Looms generally were expensive and too large to cart around. Wealthy women might take to weaving but for a poor woman like Deborah, the only recourse was to work in a tavern. For a time Deborah worked a loom in a tavern while living upstairs with another woman.
General George Washington’s call for troops was Deborah’s chance to escape a life of tavern weaving and to earn some real money. Because many young men in Massachusetts were not heeding Washington’s call—they had already done their time in their local militia—few were signing up despite the offer of 20 pounds of silver if they signed a contract promising to serve 3 years.
Deborah sprung into action, pulling her hair behind a man’s cap and making sure that her breasts were adequately hidden beneath a bulky top coat. She adopted the first name of Timothy, signed the service contract on the dotted line, received her silver and went home to wait the call to action. This was thwarted when an especially acute snitch happened to notice the scar on Deborah’s left forefinger (caused by a loom accident) as the latter signed the document. Deborah could not properly bend the injured finger in question so this was additional proof for the snitch. The authorities were alerted and Deborah was forced to return the silver.
Women who impersonated the opposite gender were either arrested, flogged, fined or paraded through the town as harlots. Deborah quickly left town although the local Baptist church where she had been a member branded her a loose woman, the perception being that she wanted to be a soldier so she could work the Revolutionary War circuit as a prostitute.
Her church excommunicated her but by this time Deborah was long gone, traveling all over MA in search of other sign-up opportunities. She found a lucrative deal—60 pounds of silver for a 3 year contract—at 22 years old and was quickly mixed in with a band of almost 40 recruits, the Fourth MA Regiment. Together the Regiment walked all the way to West Point, about 150 miles, and when they arrived they were trained in strenuous exercise and war maneuvers.
Deborah chose the enlisted name of Robert Shurtleff. As Shurtleff, she was selected as a member of the Light Infantry, an elite corps of warriors comparable to today’s Navy Seals. At 5’7” she was taller than the average man at the time (5’5”). She also had good teeth, another Light Infantry requirement because soldiers had to hold a musket while ripping apart gun powder packets with their mouths.
In 1782, she led 30 men in battle. She was shelled at Yorktown (where she dug trenches), injured twice in combat, once with a sword wound to the head. When a bullet from a musket went into her thigh she removed it herself, fearful that if a doctor did it he would discover her biological gender. She avoided detection by avoiding heavy drinking and carousing with her soldier mates and by always volunteering for single person missions involving riding a horse as a scout looking for British advances.
Alex Myers, author of the novel ‘Revolutionary,’ about the life of Deborah Sampson, grew up hearing his grandmother tell him stories about their famous family ancestor. Alex Myers was born a girl but, perhaps finding strength and inspiration in his famous family member’s story, he became a transgender male. At a talk at the Harvard Book Store in Cambridge, Alex avoids hagiography when talking about his ancestor but admits, “Deborah lied a lot.”
He explains that Sampson lived for 3 months in a tiny cabin in New Windsor, Massachusetts with 16 men in the dead of winter. Myers is convinced that this experience solidified Sampson’s belief that she really was a man, biology aside.
While on a mission to subdue a mutiny outside Philadelphia, Sampson came down with a high fever during an epidemic and the physician treating her opened her jacket and discovered the truth. He did not turn her over to the authorities but offered to write a letter on her behalf that she could keep on her person until her apprehension. Soon after this Sampson was found out and given an honorable discharge.
Walk Boston History describes Sampson’s discharge: “George Washington did not like any women in the camp do to the impact they had on discipline and the necessary extra support, food and baggage. He instructed his generals to remove all women from service to improve discipline. He handed Deborah her honorable discharge in writing but did not utter a word of thanks. “
After the war, Deborah married Benjamin Gannett in 1795 and they had 3 children. The family lived on a small farm in Sharon, Massachusetts . She applied for a military pension but Congress denied it but when Paul Revere became a champion of her cause, she was finally able to obtain a pension.
The amount of Sampson’s pension was $4.00 a month ($104.00 today). She spent her remaining years lecturing about her time in Washington’s Continental Army, sometime appearing in uniform and acting out various scenes behind the podium.
In 2019, Congress passed The Deborah Sampson Act “to improve the benefits and services provided by the Department of Veterans Affairs to women veterans, and for other purposes.”
Thom Nickels
Contributing Editor
