Nursing in the Revolutionary War

Julie Reyes, DNP, RN

"Hush now, say your prayers and go to sleep," I tell her, "we have a long day tomorrow." She rolls over and looks at her brother, who looks back at me with tired, deep blue eyes filled with fear. Will we always live on the edge of fear? I stand up and put out the fire. It is hot out, and with the sun going down, we don't want to give away ourselves with firelight.

It's dark, and I can hear the others, some cursing under their breath, some crying softly. All are in quiet tones for fear of ambush. I lie down on the grass next to the children, swipe the hair from my face, and look up at the stars. I pray for him like I have never prayed before. I miss him, and haven't seen him in over a month. His children need him. I need him. I am scared. In the distance, I hear screams and the sound of cannons. A hush settles over the camp - fear has gripped our throats, and settles like a fire in our stomach....it is hard to find sleep.

"Rachel! Rachel, wake up! There are more wounded - you must come now!" I glance at my children, holding each other as they sleep. "Don't worry - Sarah will look after them and get them some rations for breakfast. Quickly, come!" I grab my shawl and quickly follow the surgeon to the tent we have set up for a hospital. It is dimly lit, and filled with death.

Groans and ragged breathing of soldiers fill my ears, while sweat, blood, and gunpowder assault my nose. There are more than fifty men in the room, and all of them need help now. I frantically scan the room for my husband, but there is no time to identify any of the men here covered in make - shift dressings. I try to determine where to start.

The surgeon says, "Here, we have to cut his leg off, he is bleeding to death!" I run to him, and put my hands on his shoulders. He looks at me with terror in his eyes. "Bite on this!" I say as I put a stick in his mouth. "Don't scream, they can't know we are here!" I look at the surgeon, and he tightens the tourniquet. He grasps the thigh and places the saw just above where is knee should have been. He begins to ferociously move the saw back and forth on the skin. It takes all of my strength to hold this patient on the bed, and then he is overcome by his pain.

I take the limb that was destroyed in battle outside of the tent. I stack it on the other limbs that will be moved when daylight approaches. I shudder as I look at the pile; I examine the palms of my hands, caked with blood, so I wipe sweat from my face with the back of my hand. I say another prayer for my husband - I am not yet sure if he is here - if he is one of the men lying in the tent fighting for his life. I am weary, but determined to give my all for these men who sacrificed so much. I turn around and make my way back into the tent - back to care for my patients.

Rachel Clement was a camp follower in the American Revolution. She was married to a soldier in General Washington's brigade. Wives and families of soldiers often followed their husbands/fathers into battle camps because they had no other means to survive. General Washington offered rations to women/children in exchange for services to the soldiers fighting in battle. Women were cooks and made meals for the soldiers and would carry them to the battle lines. They were tailors and mended or made clothes for the soldiers as well as did the laundry washing. Then, there were the women who were nurses (women were much preferred than men - because the man was deemed to be a soldier on the front lines) caring for the sick or injured. Rachel Clement was one of the many heroic nurses in the American Revolution. The story above is just that, a fictional story (the character is real), but one that could have been a very real part of her everyday life.

Reference:

Women's Service with the Revolutionary Army

Nursing in the Revolutionary War

About Julie Reyes, DNP, RN

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