Who Was The Teen Girl Known as the ‘Female Paul Revere?’

Sybil Ludington’s stormy midnight ride to rouse troops, if it happened, was three times as long—and markedly more dangerous.

By Gregory Wakeman

Photo:  By Anthony22 - Originally from en.wikipedia; description page is (was) herefirst upload in en wikipedia on 20:08, 23 April 2006 by Anthony22 (I took this photograph of the statue of Sybil Ludington on Gleneida Avenue in Carmel, New York. GFDL-self — GNU Free Documentation License), Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3139772

The world has long celebrated Paul Revere for his famous midnight warning ride. On April 18, 1775, he alerted the Continental Army in Lexington and Concord to incoming British troops ahead of the first battles of the Revolutionary War. 

But there were other midnight riders who heroically risked their lives—and never received the same spotlight. 

Chief among them was 16-year-old Sybil Ludington, who on the night of April 26, 1777, set off from her family’s farmhouse in northeastern New York after learning that the British were attacking the Continental supply depot in Danbury, Connecticut, and setting the town ablaze. Although Ludington’s story isn’t as renowned, her warning ride was actually more strenuous than Revere’s. “I always say that Paul Revere ought to be called the male Sybil Ludington,” says Carol Berkin, author of Revolutionary Mothers: Women in the Struggle for America’s Independence. 

Despite her bravery, some still question whether Ludington actually made the ride at all. Here’s what’s known about Sybil Ludington’s midnight warning ride. 

What did Sybil Ludington do?

Sybil Ludington’s father, Colonel Henry Ludington, commanded a militia in what is now the town of Kent, New York. “Militia leaders were often wealthy and elected by the people in the militia unit, so he was most likely a prominent man, socially,” says Berkin. 

Stamp:  By US gov - US gov, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=6053610

The story goes that on the night of April 26, 1777, Sybil, who had just turned 16 three weeks earlier, was sitting by the fire with her father as her 11 younger brothers and sisters slept upstairs. “At around 9 o’clock, a messenger sent by generals Benedict Arnold, David Wooster and Gold Silliman—soaked and covered in mud—knocked on the door and said, ‘Connecticut has been raided. The British are burning Danbury. We need your 400 men,’” says Vincent Dacquino, author of four books on Sybil Ludington.

Needing to urgently muster his soldiers, who were scattered on farms around the county—and finding no one else available—Henry agreed to send Sybil. “She traveled 40 miles through rough countryside, all night long,” Dacquino says. According to Berkin, she was the perfect candidate to gather forces because she knew the territory and people and she wasn’t going through enemy lines. 

Compared with Revere’s 12-mile ride, Ludington covered three times more territory—in a driving rain through deep forest—all while trying to evade British troops, British loyalists and roving outlaws called “skinners.” And whereas he had two fellow riders to spread the message, she rode alone, Dacquino says. “Revere also rode through the city rather than the middle of the woods. Plus, he got caught, and Sybil didn’t,” he says. 

By daybreak, the men Sybil had roused arrived at Ludington’s house ready to march. They couldn’t save Danbury, but they joined other regiments to engage British forces in Ridgefield, Connecticut and push their retreat to the sea.

Why is Sybil Ludington’s story questioned?

The first published mention of Sybil’s efforts came in Martha Lamb’s 1880 book on the history of New York followed by Willis Fletcher Johnson’s 1907 biography of her father, Henry. While historians at the time were intrigued, some questioned the tale’s legitimacy, as it had never been told before in the 100-plus years since it occurred. 

“As it turned out, there were other mentions of the ride earlier,” Dacquino says. While writing his books, Dacquino received a cache of family letters from Sybil’s distant niece Jane Ludington. This included an 1854 letter from Sybil’s nephew to the organizers of a memorial for Wooster, in which he explained what Sybil had done. “I have a copy of that letter, [which] completely describes what Sybil did that week,” Dacquino says. 

However, some historians doubt the credibility and accuracy of such sources. “Historians want government military records, but that’s not going to happen,” Dacquino says. “Sybil was a woman. Women were not soldiers. They didn’t have historical records. They were asking for something that was almost impossible to provide.” 

Doubters also cite Sybil’s 1838 application for a war pension, which was based on her dead husband’s military service and denied due to the lack of a marriage certificate. According to The New England Quarterly, it made no mention of her midnight ride either.

The growth of women’s history and studies in the 1960s provoked more scholars to search for stories of women’s roles in the American revolution. “We began to find all these documents, newspaper letters, poems written by women and stories of heroism,” Berkin says. “Almost all these stories were handed down in families over the generations. Other historians did not deal with them because they were suspicious they weren’t hard facts.” 

It wasn’t just Sybil Ludington. Nancy Hart, Deborah Sampson and Lydia Darragh are just three other examples of women who played either combat or intelligence roles. “Women played a critical part in every aspect of the revolution,” Berkin explains. “Both the British and Americans assumed females were outside of the war; this allowed them to spy and carry messages.”

In tribute to her actions, a commemorative sculpture of Sybil Ludington was erected at Lake Gleneida near Carmel, New York, in 1961. A commemorative stamp of her followed in 1975. 

What happened to Sybil Ludington?

Sybil married Edmond Ogden in 1784, and they ran a tavern together.

According to Dacquino, they moved to Hudson River boomtown of Catskill, New York, believing it would become the next New York City. Edmond died in 1799 of yellow fever, leaving her to raise their teenage son, Henry.

By 1803, Sybil had opened her own tavern. Henry became a lawyer and New York State assemblyman. In 1811, she sold the tavern for three times her initial investment and followed Henry and his wife to Unadilla, New York, where she helped them raise their six children. 

She died at age 77 on February 26, 1839.