The First American Army - Bruce Chadwick [86]
Infused into his poetry was the same gritty determination to win the war, unite the country, and secure independence from the hated Redcoats, a conviction felt by many who wrote poetry or the songs that regiments sang throughout the conflict. In all of McMichael’s stanzas, there was a disdain for the Tories:
We are now unto Chester County came
In which some people lives that are of fame
But some are Tories to their great disgrace
Numbers of them reside near to this place
He had little use for the antiwar Quakers of Pennsylvania either, describing them harshly in one of his poems:
By Tories we are now surrounded
Either marching or rebounding
But Tories still are pusillanimous
And can’t encounter men magnanimous
We made us merry at their expense
Whilst they wished we were all gone hence
These were the people called Quakers
And in war would not be partakers
To liberty’s sons this seemed but light
We still allowed that we could fight
He wrote of his own hopes to fight well, expressed the night before an anticipated engagement with the enemy:
I am now nearly sick of marching
But for the enemy must be searching
When we do meet we’ll surely fight
And try which party is most right
This must be decided, by arms,
By thundering Mars’ most loud alarms
I’ll take my post amongst the rest
And act the manner which I think best
McMichael, like all soldiers, feared death. They all knew that their lives could end at any moment on the battlefield, that they could fall from a musket ball or bayonet. It was the fear that soldiers carried within their hearts for centuries and would continue to carry long after the Revolution. During the blackest hours of the rebellion, McMichael, ever apprehensive about his safety, wrote poems about being killed, such as one he finished the night before a battle:
When I lay down I thought and said
Perhaps tomorrow I may be dead
Yes I shall stand with all my might
And for sweet liberty will fight.
It is not known if the young lieutenant sent these poems to his wife or whether he only mailed her his love sonnets. There were plenty of those and they gave the soldier renewed energy every time he finished one. He gained even more sustenance when one of Susanna’s letters, especially the sultry ones, arrived and he could sit down and read it—over and over and over.
Chapter Sixteen
WOMEN OF THE REVOLUTION
McMichael’s yearning to see his beloved was a common feeling among the soldiers, whether officers or enlisted men. Many had wives or girlfriends back home to whom they wrote as frequently as possible; they treasured letters from them that they received in camp. All attempted to win furloughs to visit them and made their way home as quickly as carriages or horses—or for some their feet—could take them when they obtained a pass. Soldiers bombarded their commanding officers with requests to go home specifically to see those they loved.
Wives often begged their husbands to stay home for awhile. These requests were not strictly for romantic trysts. Many men had left farms and small businesses that did not prosper during their absence. Others were the heads of families with six or more children and the responsibility to run the family and care for the children alone placed a heavy burden on their wives. Some women were also left to supervise laborers, or in some cases dozens of slaves, and found that a difficult task. Others had to run stores. The return of a husband, even if only for a few days or weeks, would prove helpful.
Some women traveled with the army to be close to their husbands, but not many. These were usually high-ranking officers’ wives, who lived with them in huts, tents, or houses. A few wives of enlisted men marched with the army and were in the group called “camp followers.” It consisted of several hundred people, including women who worked for the army as piecework laborers, washing