A Brave Ride to Warn the Patriots the British Are Coming

Surprise, this is not the story of the Midnight Ride of Paul Revere, rather it is a story of a young Conneticut girl helping  the Continental Army and her father in 1777. On the night of April 26, 1777 a man came to the home of Colonel Henry Ludington of the Continental Army bringing news of the burning of Danbury Connecticut along with the request that the Colonel’s regiment make haste to Danbury to aid in its defense. Enter sixteen year old Sybil. 

Sybil Ludington's Ride by Berton Braley

Listen, my children, and you shall hear

Of a lovely feminine Paul Revere

Who rode an equally famous ride

Through a different part of the countryside,

Where Sybil Ludington's name recalls

A ride as daring as that of Paul's.

In April, Seventeen Seventy-Seven,

A smoky glow in the eastern heaven

(A fiery herald of war and slaughter)

Came to the eyes of the Colonel's daughter.

"Danbury's burning," she cried aloud.

The Colonel answered, “‘Tis but a cloud,

A cloud reflecting the campfires red,

So hush you, Sybil, and go to bed."

"I hear the sound of the cannon drumming"

“‘Tis only the wind in the treetops humming!

So go to bed, as a young lass ought,

And give the matter no further thought."

Young Sybil sighed as she turned to go,

"Still, Danbury's burning-that I know."

Sound of a horseman riding hard

Clatter of hoofs in the manor yard

Feet on the steps and a knock resounding

As a fist struck wood with a mighty pounding.

The doors flung open, a voice is heard,

"Danbury's burning-I rode with word;

Fully half of the town's gone

And the British-the British are coming on.

Send a messenger, get our men!"

His message finished the horseman then

Staggered wearily to a chair

And fell exhausted in slumber there.

The Colonel muttered, "And who, my friend,

Is the messenger I can send?

Your strength is spent and you cannot ride

And then, you know not the countryside;

I cannot go for my duty's clear;

When my men come in they must find me here;

There's devil a man on the place tonight

To warn my troopers to come-and fight.

Then, who is my messenger to be?"

Said Sybil Ludington, "You have me."

"You!" said the Colonel, and grimly smiles,

Sybil's Ride

"You! My daughter, you're just a child."

"Child!" cried Sybil. "Why I'm sixteen!

My mind's alert and my senses keen,

I know where the trails and the roadways are

And I can gallop as fast and far

As any masculine rider can.

You want a messenger? I'm your Man!"

The Colonel's heart was aglow with pride.

"Spoke like a soldier. Ride, girl, ride

Ride like the devil; ride like sin;

Summon my slumbering troopers in.

I know when duty is to be done

That I can depend on a Ludington!"

So over the trails to the towns and farms

Sybil delivered the call to arms.

Riding swiftly without a stop

Except to rap with a riding crop

On the soldiers' doors, with a sharp tattoo

And a high-pitched feminine halloo.

"Up! Up there, soldier. You're needed, come!

The British are marching!" and then the drum

Of her horse's feet as she rode apace

To bring more men to the meeting place.

Sybil grew weary and faint and drowsing,

Her limbs were aching, but still she rode

Until she finished her task of rousing

Each sleeping soldier from his abode,

Showing her father, by work well done,

That he could depend on a Ludington.

Dawn in the skies with its tints of pearl

And the lass who rode in a soldier's stead

Turned home, only a tired girl

Thinking of breakfast and then to bed

With never a dream that her ride would be

A glorious legend of history;

Nor that posterity's hand would mark

Each trail she rode through the inky dark,

Each path to figure in song and story

As a splendid, glamorous path of glory to
prove, as long as the ages run,

That "you can depend on a Ludington."

Such is the legend of Sybil's ride

To summon the men from the countryside

A true tale, making her title clear

As a lovely feminine Paul Revere!