The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere by Longfellow – A Close and Critical Reading

David A. Johnson – Northern Michigan Learning Consortium

Reading Tasks: Students will closely read what the text is saying and make inferences when necessary, determining main ideas and how they’re supported. Particular attention will be paid to the speaker of the poem on the second day and who he or she might be. Students will analyze the structure of the text, and the arguments and claims made within.

Vocabulary Tasks: While meaning of the words will initially be derived with help from the teacher, the meaning within the context of the passage will be discerned by students as they read the poem.

Discussion Tasks: Students will evaluate the claims made within the poem and determine their historical accuracy over three class periods.

Writing Tasks: Students will write arguments with claims supported by evidence from the text, which is developed with the essential questions in mind. Students will also make text to text, and text to life comparisons.

Essential Question(s):

Is Paul Revere’s Ride really as important as we’ve given it credit for?

Text Selection (Background):

The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere was written April 19, 1860 and first published in 1863 as part of "Tales of a Wayside Inn". It presents an interesting account of Revere’s midnight ride, with historical facts presented in a way which allows students to read and enjoy history.

Target Span: 4th-5th Grade.

Reading Standards hit: R1, R2, R3, R4, R5, R7, R8

Writing Standards hit: W1, W9, W10

Directions/Introduction

As written, this lesson will guide students through multiple days of looking at a historical document. It is meant to be a teachable model, but is freely available to be changed based on your students own unique needs.

What should be understood however, is that with the Common Core State Standards covering literacy in Social Studies, we need to give our students rich, complex texts in order to deepen their understanding of our important content, as well as give them opportunities to practice literacy across the content areas. If this is their first time, it may be rough, but students will get better at it the more practice they have.

We chose to follow the advice of Mike Schmoker, who, in his book Focus: Elevating the Essentials to Radically Improve Student Learning, recommends that any vocabulary which could hinder a student’s understanding be taught in advance (Schmoker, 2011). The Core standards call for students to be able to identify the meaning of words by the context in which they are used (National Governors Association,2011), and by pre-teaching the vocabulary here, students still have to do this important step, even though the vocabulary was taught in advance.

In trying to provide a research based model, for vocabulary we’re following Marzano. Marzano identifies six steps to teaching vocabulary. We will be combining two steps (provide and restate) and eliminating step 6 which is practicing with games (Marzano & Pickering, 2005). You may adapt the lesson to include this step if you choose.

The recommended model for teaching each day is as follows:

Day 1: Provide Student Handout to students. Their document is complete and should be referred to every day of the lesson. You would then do vocabulary instruction as a group (just the words for the day from the teacher handout) and then follow the teacher directions within the document itself.

Day 2: Begin with vocabulary instructions, then follow the directions in the teacher Stage 2 handouts.

Day 3: Begin with vocabulary instruction, then follow the directions in the teacher Stage 3 handouts.

How you choose to assess this beyond what is provided here is up to you, but a discussion and activity based around the focus question is included in Day 3.

Section/Stage 1 Teacher Page

Text Under Discussion Vocabulary Directions for TeachersListen my children and you shall hearOf the midnight ride of Paul Revere,

On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;Hardly a man is now alive

Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, "If the British marchBy land or sea from the town to-night,Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch

Of the North Church tower as a signal light,--One if by land, and two if by sea;

And I on the opposite shore will be,Ready to ride and spread the alarm

Through every Middlesex village and farm,For the country folk to be up and to arm."

Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oarSilently rowed to the Charlestown shore,

Just as the moon rose over the bay,Where swinging wide at her moorings lay

The Somerset, British man-of-war;A phantom ship, with each mast and spar

Across the moon like a prison bar,And a huge black hulk, that was magnified

By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend through alley and streetWanders and watches, with eager ears,Till in the silence around him he hears

The muster of men at the barrack door,

aloft

belfry

moorings

As students are given the student page, tell them they will read it first on their own, and should be trying to determine the main idea. Invite students to summarize each stanza in one line only.

As a whole group, re-read aloud and as a class determine the stanza by stanza synopsis.

Ask students what the most important ideas/events in the poem are and why they picked those.

The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,And the measured tread of the grenadiers,Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,

To the belfry chamber overhead,And startled the pigeons from their perch

On the somber rafters, that round him madeMasses and moving shapes of shade,--By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,

To the highest window in the wall,Where he paused to listen and look down

A moment on the roofs of the townAnd the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,In their night encampment on the hill,Wrapped in silence so deep and still

That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,The watchful night-wind, as it wentCreeping along from tent to tent,

And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"A moment only he feels the spell

Of the place and the hour, and the secret dreadOf the lonely belfry and the dead;

For suddenly all his thoughts are bentOn a shadowy something far away,

Where the river widens to meet the bay,--A line of black that bends and floats

On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,

grenadiers

somber

sentinel

What is happening here? Decode this.

Booted and spurred, with a heavy strideOn the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.

Now he patted his horse's side,Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,

Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,And turned and tightened his saddle girth;But mostly he watched with eager searchThe belfry tower of the Old North Church,

As it rose above the graves on the hill,Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height

A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,

But lingers and gazes, till full on his sightA second lamp in the belfry burns.

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,

And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a sparkStruck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;

That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,The fate of a nation was riding that night;

And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,Kindled the land into flame with its heat.

He has left the village and mounted the steep,And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,

Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;And under the alders that skirt its edge,

Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

It was twelve by the village clockWhen he crossed the bridge into Medford town.

impetuous

spectral

tranquil

alders

He heard the crowing of the cock,And the barking of the farmer's dog,And felt the damp of the river fog,That rises after the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,When he galloped into Lexington.He saw the gilded weathercock

Swim in the moonlight as he passed,And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,

Gaze at him with a spectral glare,As if they already stood aghast

At the bloody work they would look upon.

It was two by the village clock,When he came to the bridge in Concord town.

He heard the bleating of the flock,And the twitter of birds among the trees,And felt the breath of the morning breeze

Blowing over the meadow brown.And one was safe and asleep in his bedWho at the bridge would be first to fall,

Who that day would be lying dead,Pierced by a British musket ball.

You know the rest. In the books you have readHow the British Regulars fired and fled,---How the farmers gave them ball for ball,

From behind each fence and farmyard wall,Chasing the redcoats down the lane,

Then crossing the fields to emerge againUnder the trees at the turn of the road,

And only pausing to fire and load.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;=And so through the night went his cry of alarm

To every Middlesex village and farm,---A cry of defiance, and not of fear,

A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,And a word that shall echo for evermore!For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,

Through all our history, to the last,In the hour of darkness and peril and need,

The people will waken and listen to hearThe hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,

And the midnight message of Paul Revere.

defiance

As a final step for today, have students write based on this prompt: “Do you believe the author has accurately depicted Revere’s Ride? Why or why not?

Stage 1 – Additional Information/Instructions/Performance Tasks

Section/Stage 2 Teacher Page

Text Under Discussion Vocabulary Directions for TeachersListen my children and you shall hearOf the midnight ride of Paul Revere,

On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;Hardly a man is now alive

Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, "If the British marchBy land or sea from the town to-night,Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch

Of the North Church tower as a signal light,--One if by land, and two if by sea;

And I on the opposite shore will be,Ready to ride and spread the alarm

Through every Middlesex village and farm,For the country folk to be up and to arm."

Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oarSilently rowed to the Charlestown shore,

Just as the moon rose over the bay,Where swinging wide at her moorings lay

The Somerset, British man-of-war;A phantom ship, with each mast and spar

Across the moon like a prison bar,And a huge black hulk, that was magnified

By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend through alley and streetWanders and watches, with eager ears,Till in the silence around him he hears

The muster of men at the barrack door,

aloft

belfry

moorings

Begin stage two by inviting students to recall the plot of the poem from yesterday.

The opening lines identify potential speakers of the poem. Who might be telling this story? What is the evidence that supports what you’re saying?

Continue by re-reading the poem together as a class, with model student readers taking turns for each stanza.

The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,And the measured tread of the grenadiers,Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,

To the belfry chamber overhead,And startled the pigeons from their perch

On the somber rafters, that round him madeMasses and moving shapes of shade,--By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,

To the highest window in the wall,Where he paused to listen and look down

A moment on the roofs of the townAnd the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,In their night encampment on the hill,Wrapped in silence so deep and still

That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,The watchful night-wind, as it wentCreeping along from tent to tent,

And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"A moment only he feels the spell

Of the place and the hour, and the secret dreadOf the lonely belfry and the dead;

For suddenly all his thoughts are bentOn a shadowy something far away,

Where the river widens to meet the bay,--A line of black that bends and floats

On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,

grenadiers

somber

sentinel

This line is like a riddle. What is it identifying?

Ask students: What mood does this passage convey? Use examples.

Booted and spurred, with a heavy strideOn the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.

Now he patted his horse's side,Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,

Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,And turned and tightened his saddle girth;But mostly he watched with eager searchThe belfry tower of the Old North Church,

As it rose above the graves on the hill,Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height

A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,

But lingers and gazes, till full on his sightA second lamp in the belfry burns.

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,

And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a sparkStruck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;

That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,The fate of a nation was riding that night;

And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,Kindled the land into flame with its heat.

He has left the village and mounted the steep,And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,

Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;And under the alders that skirt its edge,

Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

It was twelve by the village clockWhen he crossed the bridge into Medford town.

impetuous

spectral

tranquil

alders

Using prior knowledge or a selection from a history book, judge the accuracy of this part of the passage

This passage really hits home a certain emotions to readers. What emotion is the speaker trying to convey? Does he succeed?

He heard the crowing of the cock,And the barking of the farmer's dog,And felt the damp of the river fog,That rises after the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,When he galloped into Lexington.He saw the gilded weathercock

Swim in the moonlight as he passed,And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,

Gaze at him with a spectral glare,As if they already stood aghast

At the bloody work they would look upon.

It was two by the village clock,When he came to the bridge in Concord town.

He heard the bleating of the flock,And the twitter of birds among the trees,And felt the breath of the morning breeze

Blowing over the meadow brown.And one was safe and asleep in his bedWho at the bridge would be first to fall,

Who that day would be lying dead,Pierced by a British musket ball.

You know the rest. In the books you have readHow the British Regulars fired and fled,---How the farmers gave them ball for ball,

From behind each fence and farmyard wall,Chasing the redcoats down the lane,

Then crossing the fields to emerge againUnder the trees at the turn of the road,

And only pausing to fire and load.

Using a map such as the one attached, have students trace Revere’s route marking locations and times. What distance is travelled?

So through the night rode Paul Revere;=And so through the night went his cry of alarm

To every Middlesex village and farm,---A cry of defiance, and not of fear,

A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,And a word that shall echo for evermore!For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,

Through all our history, to the last,In the hour of darkness and peril and need,

The people will waken and listen to hearThe hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,

And the midnight message of Paul Revere.

defiance

As a closing activity, have students use the final stanza to describe the colonists feelings towards the events of the night. Back up with claims from the poem.

Stage 2 – Additional Information/Instructions/Performance Tasks

Section/Stage 3 Teacher Page

Text Under Discussion Vocabulary Directions for TeachersListen my children and you shall hearOf the midnight ride of Paul Revere,

On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;Hardly a man is now alive

Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, "If the British marchBy land or sea from the town to-night,Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch

Of the North Church tower as a signal light,--One if by land, and two if by sea;

And I on the opposite shore will be,Ready to ride and spread the alarm

Through every Middlesex village and farm,For the country folk to be up and to arm."

Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oarSilently rowed to the Charlestown shore,

Just as the moon rose over the bay,Where swinging wide at her moorings lay

The Somerset, British man-of-war;A phantom ship, with each mast and spar

Across the moon like a prison bar,And a huge black hulk, that was magnified

By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend through alley and streetWanders and watches, with eager ears,Till in the silence around him he hears

The muster of men at the barrack door,The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,And the measured tread of the grenadiers,

aloft

belfry

moorings

Invite students to begin today by discussing why the author might have decided to use poetry as the medium to tell this story.

By using these two stanza’s, look once again at the historical accuracy by either reviewing in a textbook or activating prior knowledge.

Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,

To the belfry chamber overhead,And startled the pigeons from their perch

On the somber rafters, that round him madeMasses and moving shapes of shade,--By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,

To the highest window in the wall,Where he paused to listen and look down

A moment on the roofs of the townAnd the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,In their night encampment on the hill,Wrapped in silence so deep and still

That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,The watchful night-wind, as it wentCreeping along from tent to tent,

And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"A moment only he feels the spell

Of the place and the hour, and the secret dreadOf the lonely belfry and the dead;

For suddenly all his thoughts are bentOn a shadowy something far away,

Where the river widens to meet the bay,--A line of black that bends and floats

On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride

On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.

grenadiers

somber

sentinel

Now he patted his horse's side,Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,

Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,And turned and tightened his saddle girth;But mostly he watched with eager searchThe belfry tower of the Old North Church,

As it rose above the graves on the hill,Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height

A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,

But lingers and gazes, till full on his sightA second lamp in the belfry burns.

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,

And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a sparkStruck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;

That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,The fate of a nation was riding that night;

And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,Kindled the land into flame with its heat.

He has left the village and mounted the steep,And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,

Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;And under the alders that skirt its edge,

Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

It was twelve by the village clockWhen he crossed the bridge into Medford town.

He heard the crowing of the cock,And the barking of the farmer's dog,

impetuous

spectral

tranquil

alders

“Impatient to mount and ride.” How does this portray Revere? What’s your evidence?

And felt the damp of the river fog,That rises after the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,When he galloped into Lexington.He saw the gilded weathercock

Swim in the moonlight as he passed,And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,

Gaze at him with a spectral glare,As if they already stood aghast

At the bloody work they would look upon.

It was two by the village clock,When he came to the bridge in Concord town.

He heard the bleating of the flock,And the twitter of birds among the trees,And felt the breath of the morning breeze

Blowing over the meadow brown.And one was safe and asleep in his bedWho at the bridge would be first to fall,

Who that day would be lying dead,Pierced by a British musket ball.

You know the rest. In the books you have readHow the British Regulars fired and fled,---How the farmers gave them ball for ball,

From behind each fence and farmyard wall,Chasing the redcoats down the lane,

Then crossing the fields to emerge againUnder the trees at the turn of the road,

And only pausing to fire and load.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;=

Really hit this home now. How does this make the British Look? (Evidence!)

And so through the night went his cry of alarmTo every Middlesex village and farm,---

A cry of defiance, and not of fear,A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,

And a word that shall echo for evermore!For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,

Through all our history, to the last,In the hour of darkness and peril and need,

The people will waken and listen to hearThe hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,

And the midnight message of Paul Revere.

defiance As a final writing activity, invite students to judge the historical worthiness of the poem overall and discuss their feelings about the reading and how it might be important for them in their own lives.

Stage 3 – Additional Information/Instructions/Performance Tasks

Student Page

Text Under Discussion Vocabulary My Thoughts/NotesListen my children and you shall hearOf the midnight ride of Paul Revere,

On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;Hardly a man is now alive

Who remembers that famous day and year.

He said to his friend, "If the British marchBy land or sea from the town to-night,Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch

Of the North Church tower as a signal light,--One if by land, and two if by sea;

And I on the opposite shore will be,Ready to ride and spread the alarm

Through every Middlesex village and farm,For the country folk to be up and to arm."

Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oarSilently rowed to the Charlestown shore,

Just as the moon rose over the bay,Where swinging wide at her moorings lay

The Somerset, British man-of-war;A phantom ship, with each mast and spar

Across the moon like a prison bar,And a huge black hulk, that was magnified

By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend through alley and streetWanders and watches, with eager ears,Till in the silence around him he hears

The muster of men at the barrack door,

aloft

belfry

moorings

The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,And the measured tread of the grenadiers,Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,

To the belfry chamber overhead,And startled the pigeons from their perch

On the somber rafters, that round him madeMasses and moving shapes of shade,--By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,

To the highest window in the wall,Where he paused to listen and look down

A moment on the roofs of the townAnd the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,In their night encampment on the hill,Wrapped in silence so deep and still

That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,The watchful night-wind, as it wentCreeping along from tent to tent,

And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"A moment only he feels the spell

Of the place and the hour, and the secret dreadOf the lonely belfry and the dead;

For suddenly all his thoughts are bentOn a shadowy something far away,

Where the river widens to meet the bay,--A line of black that bends and floats

On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,

grenadiers

somber

sentinel

Booted and spurred, with a heavy strideOn the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.

Now he patted his horse's side,Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,

Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,And turned and tightened his saddle girth;But mostly he watched with eager searchThe belfry tower of the Old North Church,

As it rose above the graves on the hill,Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height

A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,

But lingers and gazes, till full on his sightA second lamp in the belfry burns.

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,

And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a sparkStruck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;

That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,The fate of a nation was riding that night;

And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,Kindled the land into flame with its heat.

He has left the village and mounted the steep,And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,

Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;And under the alders that skirt its edge,

Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

It was twelve by the village clockWhen he crossed the bridge into Medford town.

impetuous

spectral

tranquil

alders

He heard the crowing of the cock,And the barking of the farmer's dog,And felt the damp of the river fog,That rises after the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,When he galloped into Lexington.He saw the gilded weathercock

Swim in the moonlight as he passed,And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,

Gaze at him with a spectral glare,As if they already stood aghast

At the bloody work they would look upon.

It was two by the village clock,When he came to the bridge in Concord town.

He heard the bleating of the flock,And the twitter of birds among the trees,And felt the breath of the morning breeze

Blowing over the meadow brown.And one was safe and asleep in his bedWho at the bridge would be first to fall,

Who that day would be lying dead,Pierced by a British musket ball.

You know the rest. In the books you have readHow the British Regulars fired and fled,---How the farmers gave them ball for ball,

From behind each fence and farmyard wall,Chasing the redcoats down the lane,

Then crossing the fields to emerge againUnder the trees at the turn of the road,

And only pausing to fire and load.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;=And so through the night went his cry of alarm

To every Middlesex village and farm,---A cry of defiance, and not of fear,

A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,And a word that shall echo for evermore!For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,

Through all our history, to the last,In the hour of darkness and peril and need,

The people will waken and listen to hearThe hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,

And the midnight message of Paul Revere.

defiance