General Paterson was described as a strapping, handsome man of Scottish descent, six foot two and athletic, a man who never shirked his duty or sought attention. This is especially remarkable considering his youth; according to his great-grandson, he was one of the youngest, if not the youngest, generals in the war, and he remained in his position until everyone else was sent home. He was made a major general at the close of his duty.
An only son, the youngest in a family of five sisters, with a military father who passed away from yellow fever in service to the Crown, John Paterson was not hard at all for me to bring to life. After reading his great-grandson’s stories and the military communications begging for relief for the men in his charge, I was greatly impressed. Like Deborah, I adored him. Many of the scenes and events in the book are entirely fictional, but his dedication was not. It was also evident, from the archives that remain, that he was often sent in to handle disputes and calm storms, and his reputation was stellar.
His relationship and fondness for Agrippa Hull, a celebrated African American soldier of the Revolution, was noted in the records I found as well. He was well-known and well-loved in Stockbridge, Massachusetts. The story about him donning Colonel Kosciuszko’s dress uniform and painting his lower legs and feet is factual. He was a vibrant and compelling character both in this story and in real life.
According to his great-grandson, John Paterson kept detailed records, and as a general, a lawyer, a judge, and a reluctant one-term congressman, that is not surprising. However, not long after Paterson died, all his personal records and correspondence were lost in a fire.
I took liberties with the ages and relationships of my characters: John Paterson’s wife, Elizabeth Lee Paterson, did not die during the war, and though it seems she met Deborah at some point, she and Deborah did not have the relationship I gave them in the book. Elizabeth Paterson outlived John Paterson and Deborah Sampson by decades and was a fascinating and stalwart woman. John and Elizabeth had five children, including one who died in childbirth and another, Polly, whom I name in this book, who suffered with ill health and died at seventeen. John Paterson has a small monument in Lenox, Massachusetts, and the home he built there was still standing when his great-grandson compiled his record.
Deborah Sampson was born December 17, 1760, not 1759, and she was indeed a descendant of William Bradford, whose accounts of the Pilgrim story have been passed down through the ages. Her heritage, on both sides of her family, began there, and it was deeply personal and important to her. She was indentured at a young age because her father, Jonathan Sampson, abandoned his family, a wife and five children. Deborah’s relationship with her mother was almost nonexistent, though the Thomas family lived in Middleborough, not far from Plympton. Reverend Sylvanus Conant helped arrange the bond of servitude, which was very common in those days. Her intelligence and abilities were a joy to him, and he did his best to shepherd her and give her what he could. His sudden death in 1777 was devastating to her.
The Thomases had many sons (some records say six not ten), though I could not find a good account of their names or military records. I know several of them were lost in the war, but could not find specific, reliable details of that service. I do believe the Thomases were like many of the families in that day. All gave some, some gave all, and I have to believe those Thomas boys made a huge impact on Deborah Sampson, both in life and in death.
Deborah’s regiment, her commanding officers, and some of the names of men who served with her are all part of the historical record. James (Jimmy) Battles, Noble Sperin, and John Beebe all died at Tarrytown and were in Deborah’s company. There is some doubt whether Deborah enlisted in April of 1781 or April of 1782. If she enlisted in 1782, she did not serve in Yorktown, though the book by Mann has her there. It hardly matters. Her service in the war was truly remarkable, and her stamina and grit even more so.
It is also true that she organized a speaking tour in 1802, the first of its kind, and traveled around sharing her adventures. She was the first woman to receive a soldier’s pension, though she had to petition Congress for decades. Paul Revere, a friend, was instrumental in her receiving it.
Deborah married a man named Benjamin Gannet a few years after the war and had three children (Earl, Mary, and Patience) and adopted another, an indentured servant girl named Susanna. I found that especially touching. It seems our heroine never forgot who she was.
Deborah’s leg troubled her for the rest of her life, though she was tireless until the end, always doing and striving. When people met her, they were often surprised by her appearance, expecting, as John states in the book, “a Samson instead of a Deborah.” I think she was both. A true pioneer and a patriot, she is buried in Sharon, Massachusetts, and a small museum in Middleborough marks her life to this day.