The fire that backfired: the British torching of Danbury, Connecticut, did not produce the desired effect--thanks in part to the midnight ride of 16-year-old Sybil Ludington.

From the deck of the H.M.S. Senegal, Major General William Tryon surveyed the peaceful beach outside Fairfield, Connecticut, at sunset, on April 25, 1777. In the dying rays of the sun, the pastoral scene at the mouth of the Saugatuck River seemed at odds with the arrival of his 26 ships, carrying 2,000 of England's best soldiers and six pieces of artillery. There was no sign that the rebels intended to offer any resistance. Nonetheless, he intended to give Connecticut a lesson it wouldn't soon forget. He had, in fact, carried a grudge against the rebellious colony ever since Connecticut patriot Captain Isaac Sears descended upon New York with 75 dragoons, entered Tory publisher James Rivington's office, destroyed his press and--with unforgivable audacity--converted the iron type into bullets.

Tryon, the royal governor of New York, now commanded the invasion of Connecticut. At 52 years of age, Tryon was an officer in the regular British army as well as commander of the loyalist provincials in New York. With many successful military operations under his belt, he surely must have felt that this one would be no different.

The British landing was uneventful, and all were ashore by 10:00 p.m. The beach being a less than satisfactory bivouac spot, Tryon started his men marching inland in the bright moonlight, toward Redding, Connecticut. Tryon intended to castigate the Connecticut rebels, and to endear himself to Admiral Lord Richard Howe, by destroying the food and ammunition his Tory spies assured him lay in Danbury. Suddenly, there was a shout from the darkness ahead.

"Who goes there?"

"You will know soon," replied Tryon, scornfully.

Instead of continuing the conversation, the hidden challengers replied with rifle shots, killing several of Tryon's men and wounding others. The advancing British column returned fire, but their challengers melted away into the surrounding woods. Tryon paused his men long enough to load his dead and wounded into an oxcart, sending them back to the ships. Then he pushed on into the night. This encounter with the rebel Captain Disbrow and his "Gallant Seventeen" taught Tryon that marching in the dark through enemy territory wasn't without risks. He needed to find a secure spot in which to spend the night.

Tryon's March to Danbury

The next morning, while Tryon breakfasted royally in Redding at William Heron's house (a generous Tory), his men searched the town for prominent patriots. They seized three--Stephen Betts, James Rogers and Jeremiah Sanford. The latter was only 10 years old. Get the young boys, Tryon had instructed his men, for they "would very soon grow into rebels." (Young Jeremiah never had the opportunity to grow into a rebel. Though Betts and Rogers were released several days later, Jeremiah Sanford died on a prison ship after two months.)

Marching in broad daylight, Tryon expected no further trouble from the rebels. But as his force began the ascent of Hoyt's Hill outside Bethel, he was met with an extraordinary sight. Appearing at the top of the hill was a solitary man, waving his sword. Turning to those behind him, he shouted, "Halt! the whole Universe! Break off by Kingdoms!"

How had the rebels been able to amass a large force so quickly? Tryon expeditiously swung his troops into position, brought his cannon forward and prepared for the unexpected engagement. But then, as suddenly as the sword-waving man had appeared, he was gone--and when Tryon's scouts crested the hill, they found the countryside desserted, not a soldier in sight besides their own. Tryon kept his ranks deployed. Danbury wasn't far off, and he was not taking any more chances.

The main British target was Danbury, where the rebels had Stockpiled military supplies. In addition to capturing this cache, the British also hoped to establish a strategic military presence in the southwestern part of Connecticut. To understand why this area was so important, consider the placement of the major British armies at that time: General John Burgoyne was located in northeastern New York, to the northwest; and General William Howe was located near Philadelphia, to the south. To allow the cooperation of the two armies, the British needed to be able to move freely between the upper Hudson River Valley and southern Long Island Sound. The logical route lay through western Connecticut, with its relatively good roads and easy access to points both north and south.

Tryon pressed on until reaching Danbury. Though there was no organized resistance in town, Tryon fired a few six-pound and 12-pound cannonballs down Danbury's streets--obviously intending to put the fear of God, or at least the fear of King George, into the rebels. By three o'clock that afternoon, he was in full possession of Danbury. Once he was comfortably quartered in Nehemiah Dibble's house, Tryon turned his attention to destroying the military stores.

A Brief Rest

On the very day that the British occupied Danbury, New York militia Colonel Henry Ludington, not yet aware of the crisis on the other side of the New York-Connecticut border not far from where he lived, allowed his men to return to their homes. After several months in the field, they were looking forward to spending some time with their families. They also had new crops to plant and new ground to till. Rain fell on the colonel's farm near Kent that evening, but the rain probably did not dampen the colonel's spirits, The colonel was with his wife, Abigail. and his 12 children. In fact, at that moment, even the horrors of the war could have seemed faraway--almost unreal--to him. The war would continue, but for now the colonel was at home with those he most loved.

Col. Ludington was a successful businessman, a member of the New York Assembly, a justice of the peace and a sub-sheriff. He served as colonel of the Seventh Regiment of the Dutchess County Militia. which spent much of its time protecting freedom-minded colonists and their belongings from Tories and marauding thieves. General Howe considered Ludington aggravating enough to place a price on his head of 300 guineas, "dead or alive" That price was sufficient to entice some of Ludington's own neighbors to turn against him.

It was only a few months earlier that Ichobod Prosser, a determined Tory neighbor, decided to collect the bounty on Col. Ludington's head. Prosser, along with a number of other men, had surrounded Ludington's house in the dead of night. But Sybil, Ludington's oldest child, and her younger sister Rebecca had been standing guard and had foiled Prosser's plans. Sybil quickly lighted all the candles in the house and marched her 11 siblings around and around inside the house with mop and broom handles held high. It had seemed to Presser that the house was heavily guarded, and so he left after daybreak without attacking--never suspecting that it was only a few children who stood between him and his target. Sybil's bravery, and quick and clever plan, had very likely saved her father's life.

Tryon Burns Danbury

At 1:00 a.m. on Sunday, April 27, 1777. General Tryon was in a fix, for sure. Things were definitely not going according to plan. He had hoped to spend all day Sunday resting in Danbury. And he wouldn't have minded pushing further west into New York to more firmly establish his control of the territory. But not 10 minutes before. a messenger had arrived with word that the colonial generals David Wooster and Benedict Arnold had assembled a large force in Bethel--just three miles distant.

Not only that, but his own men, usually fine soldiers, were now in a drunken stupor after finishing off several barrels of good New England rum. They had spent the greater part of the evening carousing up and down the streets, shouting songs and coarse speeches, and swilling more rum. But with the rebel force so close, he had no choice but to evacuate Danbury immediately. Yet Tryon would not leave before making sure that Danbury, and the rebels, knew he meant business. Up to this point, he had burned only three buildings. By dawn, however. Danbury would be ashes.

Tryon ordered his aides to wake his men, sleeping so soundly, with any means available. Within the hour, his soldiers were on their feet and in as foul a temper as their general was. After marking the Tory houses with an "X" of lime, Tryon's troops began to march through the town, burning all the houses that were not so marked. They also took the time to fill several wells with scrap iron and cannonballs. By 3:00 a.m., Danbury was in flames, and Tryon and his men were on their way to Ridgefield, since Wooster and Arnold were blocking the way at Bethel.

Sybil Musters Her Father's Troops

Sybil played an important role in the Ludington household. Not only did she help with raising her siblings and the housework. she also often found herself standing guard against Tories, who wanted to collect the bounty on her father (as in the Presser attempt).

On the night of April 26, with her siblings tucked into bed, and her father home after having been gone for so long, one can imagine Sybil's excitement. Perhaps her father would share some stories from his regiment. But not on this night! As the family was settling in around 9:00 p.m., there was a knock at the door. Her father demanded to know who it was. The response came that the British were burning Danbury.

Opening the door, the Ludingtons saw an exhausted and soaked young man, and an equally exhausted and soaked mount standing with head down, water sheeting off his saddle. Inviting the man in, they heard that Tryon had taken Danbury and had burned several buildings. Colonel Ludington's heart sank. He had just released his militiamen--how could he gather them this rainy night, in time to save Danbury? It was obvious that the messenger and his horse could not go any further. Colonel Ludington couldn't get the men himself, as that would leave no one to muster them into some semblance of order.

Sybil, seeing that no one else could go, volunteered to round up the men. It is easy to understand Colonel Ludington's reluctance to send her out into the storm, to ride through the dark wilderness. What would happen to her if she met a British patrol, or worse yet, a band of outlaws and thieves? But someone had to go. He agreed.

Not ten minutes later, Sybil dashed out to the barn, quickly bridling and saddling her horse Star. Sybil's route would take her south to Carmel and Mahopac, then north to Kent Cliffs and Stormville, and then back home. Thus, on one fateful night at age 16, Sybil found herself riding, like Paul Revere, through the dark countryside, mustering her father's militia.

Sybil had more than 20 miles (closer to 40 according to some historians) of muddy wilderness roads to cover in the darkness of night. But her neighbors were depending on her! Reaching the first house, she banged on the door with a stick and shouted that the British were burning Danbury. All of the militia were to gather at Colonel Ludington's farm. And away she and Star sped, to repeat their message over and over. Long before dawn, her effort was bearing fruit, as Col. Ludington's men began to arrive at his farm. By the time Sybil and Star returned home, drenched from the cold rain and bone-tired, her father and his men had already left to join Wooster's and Arnold's troops--a welcome addition of 400 men.

Battle at Ridgefield

Tryon's cannons were mired in a creek, and he was being harassed by a straggle of rebels who had followed him from Danbury. One of the aggravating rebels fired in quick succession at the men trying to extricate the cannons from the mud. The man shot 32 times, but his marksmanship was poor, for not one of the shots had as much as nicked a British soldier. Undaunted by his failure, the rebel shook his empty cartridge box at Tryon's troops, and shouted as he ran away:

   He that fights and runs away
   May live to fight another day,
   But he that is in battle slain
   Shall never live to fight again.

Finally, Tryon's men freed the cannons and continued toward Ridgefield. They burned Keeler's Mill and its considerable quantity of corn, and they breakfasted on several of the rebels' cows. Almost to Ridgefield, and thus halfway to his ships, Tryon saw no sign of Wooster and Arnold. But as in Danbury, his complacence was short-lived. Not long after breakfast, 200 rebels, led by General Wooster, dashed out of a section of woods nearby. So surprised were the British that Wooster made off with a significant number of prisoners, and killed and wounded several more.

When Tryon reached Ridge field, he discovered the road blocked by a barricade of stone and logs, where General Arnold was lying in wait with more than 500 men. Three frontal assaults on the barricade resulted in nothing but the loss of 16 or more British lives. Flanking maneuvers resulted in the same. General Arnold survived (some could say miraculously) a hail of shot from less than 30 yards. Nine balls had struck and killed Arnold's horse, but the general himself escaped into the swamp, gained another horse, and was back at the head of his troops again. Finally, the three-to-one advantage of the British enabled them to force the barricade and the rebel force withdrew.

After burning several more houses, Tryon encamped on the edge of Ridgefield. His situation was getting worse. He had lost numerous men, his ammunition was getting low, and more rebel forces were closing in from all sides like a swarm of angry hornets (including Col. Ludington's 7th Regiment). There was nothing to do but run for the ships. Monday morning, Tryon mustered his men, burned an Episcopal church that was also a rebel hospital, and began a dogged march for the mouth of the Saugatuck River and his waiting ships. Arnold's men--protected by rocks, trees and other cover--continued to pepper his flanks and rear with uncomfortably accurate musket-fire.

In the afternoon, Tryon received word that if he intended to take advantage of the outgoing tide, he had better hurry. He managed to get some of his cannons onto Compo Hill, and reinforcements came to his aid from the ships. With the advantage of artillery and fresh men, he was able to overcome the fierce attempt to forestall him, and his entire force was able to reach the ships and sail with the tide.

Turning Point

Tryon left much British blood upon Connecticut soil, and he gained nothing but the assurance of having set the New Englanders' blood a-boil. George Macaulay Trevelyan, a British historian. wrote of Tryon's raid:

We thought to fire but farm-steads. We have lit a flame less transient in the hearts of men.

Indeed, instead of merely torching at least 19 houses and 22 stores and barns, along with some military and medical supplies, Tryon provided exactly the unifying spark that New England needed to stand firm against the British. Soon after Tryon sailed away from the Saugatuck, 3,000 Connecticut citizens flocked to join the Connecticut Army of Reserve.

More importantly, because New York had come to the aid of Connecticut during Tryon's raid, Connecticut answered New York's cry for help later that year, sending a considerable number of militiamen to help General Stark at the Battle of Bennington. And later, they sent 200 cavalry and two strong regiments of musketeers to assist General Gates in the defeat of General Burgoyne at the historic Battle of Saratoga.

For the American patriots, it had been two long years since the "shot heard 'round the world" was fired--two years of fighting while being underfunded, undertrained and underfed. The zeal and enthusiasm that had animated the patriots in the first year of the American War for Independence had begun to wane. American morale and motivation definitely needed a boost.

Unwittingly, a relatively minor British offensive action in the early spring of 1777 provided exactly that--particularly in New England. Tryon's heavy-handedness in destroying not only patriot munitions and supplies, but also burning an entire town and taking many prisoners--some of them children--united the New England militia and filled them with new resolve. Not six months later, the Americans soundly trounced General Burgoyne at the battle of Saratoga.

And a turning point in the whole saga was the courageous and brave action of a 16-year-old girl, who, on horseback, raced out into the midst of a dangerous, rainy April night to sound the alarm.

The Female Paul Revere

In 1784, Sybil married Edmond Ogden, who ran a public house on a piece of Ludington land in New York's Dutchess County. About two years later, they had a son, Henry--their only child. When Henry was 13, Edmond died of yellow fever. Sybil took over her husband's tavern business to support herself and Henry, and proved to be quite successful. But she sold the business when Henry married and moved to Unadilla, New York, so that she could be with family and help take care of her grandchildren--a task to which she devoted the remaining 28 years of her life.

Sybil's "midnight ride" sparked the imagination several poets through the years. In 1912, Reverend George Nobel of Carmel, New York, composed a lengthy poem, and in 1940, Berton Barley published another poem about Sybil in the New York Herald Tribune. In 1961, sculptor Anna Hyatt Huntington created a bronze equestrian statue of Sybil, located in Carmel, New York. In 1975, the U.S. Postal Service issued an eight-cent stamp, depicting Sybil her horse Star.

Jodie Gilmore, a home-schooling mother of two, is a freelance writer.