The Midnight Ride That Changed America:
Caesar Rodney’s Forgotten Sacrifice
In 1923, Delaware proudly honored one of its most storied figures by erecting a statue in Wilmington—Caesar Rodney. The bronze depiction captures Rodney mid-gallop, immortalizing his historic, whirlwind ride on the night of July 1, 1776. Rodney’s dramatic 80-mile dash from Dover to Philadelphia was no ordinary journey—it was the deciding vote for American independence. With Sussex and Kent Counties heavily loyalist and Delaware’s support hanging in the balance, Rodney’s last-minute arrival shifted the vote and solidified Delaware’s stand against British rule.
The image of Rodney thundering through the rain and darkness became more than just a heroic tale; it turned into a symbol of Delaware’s unwavering commitment to liberty. So impactful was “The Ride” that it has since become the unofficial emblem of the state, gracing signs along highways and inspiring the name of local schools and housing communities. Decades later, Congressman Mike Castle ensured Rodney’s place in history by featuring him prominently on Delaware’s state quarter.
However, Rodney wasn’t always celebrated. In his time, his fiery support for independence made him a divisive figure. Political opponents back home punished him for it, reflecting the deep internal divide in Delaware during the Revolution. Unlike Massachusetts or Virginia, where the call for independence resonated more uniformly, Delaware was split—not only with Britain, but also with Pennsylvania. Caesar Rodney’s perseverance didn’t just break ties in Congress; it forged Delaware’s very identity, separating it from both colonial control and its neighboring colony.
Rodney was born into privilege on October 7, 1728, in Dover, Kent County. As the son of a wealthy planter, he received a classical education, further solidified by his connections to the Ridgley family, one of Delaware’s most prominent. This grooming prepared him for leadership roles—first as Sheriff of Kent County, then as a respected assemblyman. When the colonies convened the First Continental Congress in 1774, Rodney joined a formidable Delaware delegation alongside Thomas McKean and George Read. A fiery patriot, he was described by John Adams as “the oddest looking man in the world… slender as a reed, pale, face no bigger than an apple.” Despite battling lifelong health issues, including facial cancer which left him scarred and concealed behind a scarf, Rodney pressed on.
The history of Delaware itself is intertwined with Rodney’s life. Originally part of Pennsylvania, the three lower counties—New Castle, Kent, and Sussex—were granted to William Penn in 1682. By 1702, tensions had brewed, with the three counties forming their own legislative assembly, sharing only a governor with Pennsylvania until the stirrings of revolution in 1776.
Rodney’s first step toward becoming Delaware’s “father of independence” began with his involvement in the Stamp Act Congress of 1765, despite the session being unsanctioned by royal authority. His relationship with Delaware’s governor, John Penn, was strained, but he cautiously championed the colonial cause, finding himself repeatedly alongside McKean and Read in petitioning against British overreach.
As resistance to British policies intensified with the Townshend Acts and later the Coercive Acts, Rodney transformed from a reserved loyal subject to a defiant revolutionary. When the First Continental Congress was called in 1774, it was Rodney who ensured Delaware’s presence, standing firm against pro-British factions in Sussex and Kent. Yet, as war loomed, Rodney’s support for independence placed him in peril. Loyalist forces within Delaware, stirred by prominent men like Thomas Robinson, organized armed resistance. On one dramatic occasion, Rodney squashed a planned Tory uprising that aimed to burn Dover to the ground.
Rodney’s crowning moment came in 1776. Summoned back to Philadelphia by McKean’s urgent message, Rodney spurred his horse into action, covering the treacherous route in record time to break Delaware’s tie. When he declared his support for independence, it was the decisive vote needed to push the colonies toward the historic Declaration. His journey, through a thunderstorm and across rivers, became the stuff of legend—a symbol of perseverance and patriotism.
But after the Revolution, Rodney’s reputation wavered. Delaware’s new constitution, drafted by moderates, pushed the fiery patriot aside. His own political future grew dim, and he was replaced in Congress by more conservative figures, including John Dickinson. Rodney’s health deteriorated rapidly, and he passed away in 1784, just months after the Treaty of Paris was signed, cementing the independence he had fought so hard to achieve.
Yet, history isn’t simple. In 2020, amid a wave of racial reckoning, Rodney’s statue was removed. His legacy, like those of many founding figures, is complicated by his ownership of enslaved people—despite his opposition to the transatlantic slave trade. Unlike Jefferson, Rodney’s will called for some of his enslaved people to be freed immediately, and for the gradual emancipation of others. Still, the contradiction is stark. How do we honor a man whose greatest achievement was liberty, but who himself denied it to others?
Caesar Rodney’s legacy endures, both celebrated and contested. His ride to Philadelphia remains a defining moment in American history—a testament to courage and conviction. He pushed a hesitant state toward revolution, rallied a divided people, and, in one dramatic night, helped a nation declare its freedom. As we grapple with the complexity of his story, the hope is that Rodney will be remembered for what he was: a flawed yet fiercely dedicated patriot, whose determined resolve helped shape the United States.
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