AMERICAN HISTORY FROM
A
Spectacular
Ride
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ISBN 978-0-8126-6504-8
by Drollene P. Brown
illustrated by David Harrington
T
he evening sky that appeared on April 26, 1777, was not natural. The red glow
was in the east, not in the west where the sun was setting. Sixteen-year-old
Sybil, the eldest of eight children in the Ludington family, could see the
worry in her mother’s eyes. Would her husband, Henry Ludington, have to go away
again? Henry was the colonel and commander of the only Colonial militia regiment
between Danbury, Connecticut, and Peekskill, New York.
Thudding hooves in the yard abruptly ended the family’s evening meal. Henry went to
the door as Sybil and her sister Rebecca got up and began to clear the table. The girls were
washing dishes when their father came back into the room with the courier at his side.
“Here,” said the colonel, “sit you down and have some supper.” Sybil glanced over
her shoulder and saw that the weary messenger was no older than she.
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Across the room, her parents were talking together in low tones. Her father’s voice
rose. “Sybil, leave the dishes and come here,” he said. Obeying quickly, she overheard
her father as he again spoke to her mother. “Abigail, she is a skilled rider. It is Sybil
who has trained Star, and the horse will obey her like no other.”
Turning to his daughter, Colonel Ludington said, “That red glow in the sky is from
Danbury. British soldiers are burning it. There are about 2,000 soldiers, and they’re
heading for Ridgefield. I must stay here to organize and prepare for the battle that
comes, but someone must alert our men. They will have to leave their families and
crops again. The lull in fighting is over.”
“I’ll go! Star and I can do it!” Sybil exclaimed. She faced her mother. “Star is sure of
foot and will carry me safely.”
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“There are dangers other than slippery paths,” her mother said. “Outlaws or
deserters or even British soldiers may be on the road. You must be wary in a way that
Star cannot.”
“I can do it,” Sybil declared. Without another word, Abigail turned to fetch a
woolen cape to protect her daughter from the wind and rain. One of the boys was sent
to saddle Star, and
Sybil soon swung up onto her sturdy horse. The colonel placed a stick into her hand.
As though reciting an oath, she repeated her father’s directions: “Go south by the
river, then along Horse Pound Road to Mahopac Pond. From there, turn right to Red
Mills, then go north to Stormville.” And then she was off.
As Sybil approached the first few isolated houses, windows or doors flew open. The
sound of a galloping horse at that time of night put people on alert. She shouted her
message and rode on. As she neared a small hamlet, she could see many small houses
at the edge of Shaw’s Road, but everyone was in bed. Lights had not flared up at the
Ludington’s regiment marched out to join the Connecticut militia. They helped rout
sound of Star’s hoofbeats, and Sybil pulled the horse to a halt. Then she rode up to
the British at Ridgefield, driving them back to their ships on Long Island Sound.
one cottage after another and beat on each door with her stick. “Look at the sky!” she
shouted. “Danbury’s burning! All men muster at Ludington’s!”
At each village or cluster of houses, she repeated a similar cry. When lights began
Afterward, General George Washington gave his personal thanks to Sybil for her
courageous deed. Today, visitors to Putnam County, New York, can follow roadside
markers that retrace Sybil’s route. A statue of Sybil on horseback stands at Lake
to shine and people were yelling and moving about, she spurred her horse onward.
Gleneida in Carmel, New York. And in 1978, a commemorative postage stamp was
Sometimes, the paths Sybil rode on were slippery with mud and wet stones, and the
issued in her honor, bringing national attention to the heroic
terrain was often hilly and wooded. Sybil’s ears strained for sounds of other riders
young girl who rode for independence.
❀
who might try to steal her horse or stop her mission. Twice she pulled Star off the path
FAST FACT
while unknown riders passed within a few feet. By the time they reached Stormville,
Today, it might take
an hour to drive Sybil
Ludington’s nearly 40mile route. On that rainy
night on horseback, it
probably took Sybil at
least three hours.
Sybil’s voice was almost gone. But the town’s call to arms was sounding as horse and
rider turned homeward.
Covered with mud and tired beyond belief, Sybil could barely stay on Star’s back
as they rode into their own yard close to dawn. She had ridden nearly 40 miles that
night. Several hundred men were milling about. She had roused them in time, and
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