'One if by land, Two if by sea!'

[elleng]

a signal that Paul Revere used to alert the colonists to the British approach during the American Revolution. The signal was displayed in the steeple of Boston's Old North Church.

The words used by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow in his poem “ Paul Revere's Ride ” to describe the signal used to guide the “midnight ride of Paul Revere” at the start of the Revolutionary War . Revere had ordered two lanterns to be placed in a Boston church tower to warn his confederates that the British were on the move. Longfellow embellished the story a little.

On April 18, 1775 Boston silversmith and patriot Paul Revere rode by horse to alert the colonial militia of the British forces about to attack in Lexington and Concord, Massachusetts -- battles fought the following day that signified the start the American Revolutionary War. First, Revere placed two lanterns on the Old North Church steeple in Boston to warn citizens and patriots that troops had left Boston and were crossing the Charles River. Accompanied by William Dawes, a tanner by trade, Revere and his fellow militiaman, under direction of General Joseph Warren, set out late at night on slightly different routes to Lexington to meet up with Samuel Adams and John Hancock, American statesmen and Founding Fathers. Joining the horseback mission on a third route was Samuel Prescott, American physician, who was heading home to Concord from Lexington; Dr. Prescott was the only one to actually reach Concord where he gave word to the town sentry to ring the First Parish Church bell. While Revere was captured en route by the British, Dawes was thrown from his horse and walked back to Lexington.

Despite its historical inaccuracies, the vivid poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow is well known in both U.S. history classes and American literature. The midnight ride of Paul Revere, and fellow revolutionaries, is still re-enacted in remembrance of their contributions to American history and the "Shot Heard Around the World."

TOMORROW!!!

[William769]

1. Thanks for that.

[usonian]

2. No taxation without representation

More: https://www.democraticunderground.com/100219770873

I often drove past the Lexington Green on the way home from work.

[bottomofthehill]

3. Taught in every Massachusetts elementary school in the 70's

“Paul Revere’s Ride,” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Listen, my children, and you shall hear
Of 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 march
By 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 oar
Silently 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, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse’s side,
Now 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 search
The 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 sight
A 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 spark
Struck 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 clock
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
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 meadows brown.
And one was safe and asleep in his bed
Who 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 read,
How the British Regulars fired and fled,—
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
From behind each fence and farm-yard wall,
Chasing the red-coats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under 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 forevermore!
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 hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.

[calimary]

4. Wunnnnnnnnnnnnnnnderful!

[CitizenZero]

5. Great!

Thanks for posting that.

[Jack Valentino]

6. Thanks for that! I myself wrote two poems about this,

while still in Elementary School. I was quite the history buff,
after having purchased one of those "Scholastic" books on the subject...

The second poem won an award in some youth talent poetry contest... 3rd place, I think
(also with my own somewhat crude pencil art)

sorry I don't have it easy at hand, but I might still have it here somewhere.....
maybe need to look into one of the 'family history' boxes....


Nowadays, I would associate ICE Agents with the British troops....

[HeartsCanHope]

7. This was posted by Eko earlier, in case you missed it.

https://www.democraticunderground.com/100220248441
I've got a couple of electric candles I'll be putting in the front window tomorrow!

[Meowmee]

8. We learned about it in school, but I had forgotten a lot of it- ty for the update 😁

The last few years of extreme stress have knocked a lot of stuff out of my more accessible memory storage apparently- it's still there somewhere 😹