Women in the Revolution
- Liz Flaherty
- Jun 8
- 9 min read
by Randy Overbeck
History is written by the victors…most of the time by men.
So it is hardly surprising that women are given little mention in the telling of the founding of our nation. If students are taught about any women famous for this time, they may have learned about Betsy Ross, who’s given credit for sewing the first flag for the new country. Or if they had a particularly insightful history teacher, they may have learned how Abigail Adams, devoted wife of John Adams, became the advisor and confidant of this revolutionary and second president. But that’s about it.
The truth is we know very little about the role women played in the American Revolution, in part because men were recording the events. Of course, women were holding down the homestead, working the farm and raising the children, while their husbands were gone for months or even years fighting battles. But historians are confident women did more, much more. And scholars have been able to uncover details about a few.
One of the most remarkable tales is of Deborah Sampson. Deborah enlisted late in the fight (1782) and did so as a man, Robert Shurtliff. She served in the Massachusetts 4th Regiment for about seventeen months. She cut her hair, bound her chest and adopted male mannerisms so she could pass muster. She performed camp duties, guard duty, and
marched with her unit, fighting in some frontier skirmishes. She was only discovered when she was wounded, a musket ball in her thigh. She received an honorable discharge and even a military pension—though that took her twenty years of petitioning. Quite a woman.
Another woman in the historical records was Margaret Corbin. Margaret, or Molly as she was called, performed a role that many a wife and girlfriend did. She accompanied her husband John Corbin, an artillery man, from camp to camp and battle to battle. She assisted her husband, carrying supplies, caring for the wounded and even helping to load and fire a cannon. Her story is recorded because she was beside her husband in the battle at Ft. Washington, one of the most disastrous battles for the patriots. The colonial army of about 3000 was attacked by 8000 British and Hessian troops. All colonials were killed, wounded or captured. Margaret’s husband was killed in the action and accounts tell of how she took her husbands’ place at the cannon. In the end, she was captured and later released in a prisoner exchange. She too was awarded a military pension.
And then there is 355.
We don’t know her name, only her number. 355 was a member of the Culper Ring, George Washing’s super spy ring. Her number comes up in recovered correspondence between agents in the ring so we know some of the secrets she helped uncover, like the British scheme to flood the colonies with counterfeit Continental currency. Without a name or background details, historians have argued about her identity, positing several theories. Although they cannot agree on her social status or how she gained access to the secrets, they remained certain that her actions contributed to winning the war. That’s why I chose to give her flesh and blood as my title character, ABIGAIL TRENCH, in my new historical thriller launched this month (6/9/26) published and distributed by Diversion Books and Simon & Schuster.
As a long-time educator, I spent much of my career working with women and have developed a true respect for the great work they do as teachers, making a difference in children’s lives, often with no one noticing.
Much like my Abigail Trench of 1776.
Women seldom get the credit they deserve. It was true in 1776 and is still true now, though not as much. My new novel, ABIGAIL TRENCH, A NOVEL OF WASHINGTON’S SPY RING, is my homage to consequential women who change lives, sacrifice their own needs for others and make life better, whether anyone ever notices or not. With the national celebrating the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence this summer, now would be a great time to check out my story of 355. You can get all the details here. https://www.authorrandyoverbeck.com/books/abigail-trench
Blurb:
A vivid, propulsive Revolutionary-era thriller with the spy-craft verve of the streaming hit TURN: Washington’s Spies and the electricity of 1776’s New York that Hamilton lovers will recognize, this story is inspired by the lone female operative in Washington’s spy ring.
In occupied New York, a schoolteacher with everything to lose turns information into a weapon, threading between Redcoats and rebels as plots against Washington gather steam.
After rogue Redcoats assault her and strip her family’s Long Island farm, Abigail Trench fights to survive in New York City—tutoring in a high-ranking British officer’s Water Street household by day, navigating taverns, informants, and soldiers by night. Through Abigail’s keen eyes—and a counter-narrative following a principled British major—the novel renders the moral gray zones of occupation with gritty intimacy. As rumors swirl of a strike at General Washington, Abigail’s vantage inside upper-crust parlors and rough waterfront rooms makes her an ideal courier—and a target.
This historical thriller delivers high tension, textured world-building, and a captivating heroine who put it all on the line for freedom.
Excerpt:
When she came down Queen Street on the edge of Manhattan, she spotted a small crowd gathering in front of a house—an unusual sight lately. She’d noticed the house a few times on her trips to and from the Monteiths’. It was a handsome two-story structure with white clapboard siding and two chimneys, set back from the road, a small open meadow between it and the other buildings. While nowhere near as grand as the Hamptons’ mansion, this house stood out, far finer than most homes in Manhattan. Its most noticeable feature was a long porch running across the front. In the center sat two wooden chairs, perfect for rocking and taking in the view of the city and harbor beyond. Some days, as she passed, she’d daydreamed about sitting in those cozy chairs, rocking in the sunset.
Seeing the gaggle of people—locals, women and children, a few older men, and two Negroes standing next to young toughs who were likely dock workers—Abigail moved to cross the street. Exhausted, she did not want to get caught up in whatever was happening. Halfway across the dusty road, she heard a familiar voice.
“Respectfully, sir, this is a really bad idea.”
She recognized the bass tone of Major Parker Monteith, though he kept his voice low. Her curiosity now greater than her fatigue, she turned and headed toward the onlookers, stopping at the edge of the group to get a better look.
Major Monteith said, “Sir, we only took control of the city a few days ago. Is this how we want the locals to view us?”
Abigail’s gaze went from the Major to the house. On the porch, two figures sat in those rocking chairs she coveted—a middle-aged man and woman. No. She stared. The two were tied to the chairs, hands and feet bound to the wood, and were guarded by a pair of Redcoats, rifles at the ready.
On the walkway running along the street, a third soldier was painting two crude letters on the wood. As he finished and stood, Abigail looked past him. She recognized R and C. A clang drew her attention back to the structure. Two more soldiers, glass bottles in hand, banged them against the siding. The men sloshed dark liquid onto the clapboards. When they finished, they dumped more onto the porch floor and down the steps to the street.
The Major stood close to another man in uniform, a smaller, obese officer whose large belly strained the silver buttons of his red greatcoat. As she stared at the second officer, she noticed a long blue feather dangling from a coat button. A gust blew across the porch, making the feather flutter—a delicate motion so out of place in the grim scene.
Abigail watched Monteith, posture stiff, sweep his gaze over the crowd. He gestured toward the house. “Colonel Hollister, I suggest this is far too drastic a measure,” he uttered through tight lips, obviously struggling to keep his voice under control. “This will only enrage the locals. It will give them more powder.”
“Nonsense,” the older officer bellowed.
Abigail supposed the man was Major Monteith’s superior. The obese man turned and glanced at the crowd. Abigail caught bloodshot brown eyes above a bulbous nose, a cigar dangling between puffy lips. The fingers of one hand played with the feather, flipping it over and over.
Pulling the cigar from his mouth, the man used it to point at the house. “This will strike fear into their disloyal hearts. They’ll see what happens to those who collaborate with the rebels.”
Abigail glanced again at the two sloppy letters painted in red on the walkway. R. C. Rebel Collaborator.
Monteith asked, “Are we certain these two are collaborators? Colonel Hollister, what about a trial? Isn’t that what English justice calls for?”
“Trial! Huh!” The Colonel puffed on his cigar and pulled it out again. “We caught these two red-handed. They were getting ready to pass information to the rebels.” He stabbed the cigar toward the Major. “Your troops, Monteith. Caught them trying to pass details on troop placement to the damn rebels. You think we should allow that to happen?”
“Of course not,” Monteith said. “But there has to be a better option than this.”
“For these spies, this is precisely what they deserve,” the senior officer announced.
Abigail stared across at Major Parker Monteith. As if he could feel her eyes on him, the Major met her gaze. Though he made no move at first, Monteith’s eyes seemed to acknowledge her, his face a mask of disgrace. He shook his head slowly, his gaze shifting from his superior to the house, then finally back to Abigail. He took a few quick steps and stopped next to her.
“Miss Trench, this is not something you will want to see.” His head jerked back toward the prisoners. “This is not fit for a young woman to witness.”
Abigail looked at Monteith, then nodded past him to the activity on the porch. “No one should witness this. I certainly don’t want to,” she said, steel in her voice. “But if British soldiers are going to commit such a heinous act, someone needs to witness it.”
“War is ugly.” He shifted his feet, glancing back toward the house.
“This is not my idea of war, but I am not in charge.”
The fat Colonel hollered, “Are you two about finished?” Abigail turned to see the portly man gesture at the soldiers pouring liquid on the house.
Shaking his head, Monteith retraced his steps and returned to his position flanking the structure.
Hollister harrumphed. “Hurry up. I have a supper to get to. I understand the cook is preparing lamb for tonight.” He puffed one more time on the cigar. Indicating the two sentries standing behind the prisoners, he bellowed, “All right, you two men, better get off there.”
Relief flooding their faces, the two Redcoats scurried off the porch.
The brown liquid oozed down the walls and onto the floorboards. More of it lay in ugly pools on the wooden steps. Abigail swept her gaze from the officer holding the burning cigar to the porch drenched In fluid. A breeze carried a familiar, fishy odor from the house. It hit her—whale oil. The same oil used to light lamps at night. This British officer, this Colonel, was going to execute these two right here, in plain daylight. No, not merely execute them. He was going to torture them. Burn them. A modern version of burning at the stake. And Major Monteith was simply going to watch?
Bio:
Dr. Randy Overbeck is an award-winning educator, bestselling author, popular podcaster and speaker in much demand. After serving children for almost four decades as teacher, college prof and school leader, he used those experiences and skills to craft captivating mysteries, thrillers and historical suspense. His novels have earned more than a dozen national awards including Thriller of the Year, Best Book Award, the Gold Award and Mystery of the Year and have garnered hundreds of five-star reviews on Amazon, Goodreads and BookBub.
His newest novel, ABIGAIL TRENCH, is a historical suspense about the Revolutionary War, released June, 2026 by Diversion Books and distributed by Simon and Schuster.
Dr. Overbeck is also the host of the popular podcast, Great Stories about Great Storytellers, which reveals the little known backstories of famous authors, directors and poets and ranks among the top 50% of all podcasts in the US. When he is not writing or podcasting, he is in much demand as a speaker, sharing informative and entertaining programs to more than 300 groups all over the country.
SOCIAL MEDIA CONTACTS
Added in this morning, because Abigail Trench is OUT!
Well, the day has finally arrived!
After years of research, writing, editing and finally finding a publishing home, ABIGAIL TRENCH, my Revolutionary War thriller about the lone female operative of Washington’s spy ring, is being released and distributed this week everywhere by Diversion Books and Simon & Schuster. If you’re a fan of historical fiction or the Revolutionary War or are looking for a way to celebrate our country's 250thanniversary, this book is for you!
The early reviews are off the charts--
“An outstanding work of historical fiction”
“A gripping historical thriller I could not put down”
“A top notch tale of courage amid our country’s struggle for independence”
“I kept turning pages late into the night”
“A great way to celebrate America’s 250th anniversary”
You can get your copy wherever you purchase your books. The link below will take you to your preferred site. Check it out now. Thanks
An informative interview, Liz and Randy, and an excerpt that gave me goosebumps, Randy. I am looking forward to reading your book. Meryl
This sounds like an extraordinary read!
Looking forward to reading your new book. Susie Black
So glad to have you here today, Randy. Good luck with the release and thanks for sharing the story of the Women of the Revolution.