Pupils in Y5/6 have been studying The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes. They looked closely at the characters in the poem and wrote, in diary form, the thoughts of Bess as she waited, bound and gagged, for the highwayman to return.

Clement wrote:
There’s no escape. Through this dark, gloomy, window the howling wind in the tall trees makes me worry more for my darling love. The red-coats sneer and snigger like devils, as I struggle to get free. The window is a screen of sorrow. My eyes flood with tears and they fall to the ground like sand in open hands. I hear the hooves of my love, but they are the hooves of the devil.

Samantha wrote:
I’m waiting here at the old inn, hoping that the highwayman won’t come. I’m scared – thinking that my true love will be killed. My heart is beating, beating, beating. My tears have turned to blood; my eyes have swelled with pain and my heart is broken into a thousand pieces. Clop, clop, I can hear his horse’s hooves – I know what I must do…Bang!

Kevin wrote:
… My heart is pounding fiercely; I can’t risk the highwayman’s life. I shake aggressively, fighting like a lion against the rope. Suddenly, I see the highwayman. He comes closer and closer. Reluctantly, I pull the trigger…

Joe wrote:
At the moment, I am tied with a rope and I am very scared that I will die. My heart is beating as fast as the speed of light; I really don’t want him to come. He is my love and I hate to see him hurt. From the corner of my eye, I can see the track that he will come. With a musket beneath my breast, I pull the trigger…

Alana wrote:
I am speechless. Three soldiers have tied me to the end of my bed, facing the window. As the soldiers drink my father’s beer, I can see the road my love will ride and then die.
Inside I am screaming “Help!” But the outside knows no-one will answer. Twisting my hands, I can feel my blood throbbing. Suddenly, a sound in the distance. An idea strikes me. I will shoot myself as a warning…

Ann wrote:
At this second, I am tied to the foot of my own bed. All I can see is the bright light of the moon, shining through the cracked window. I am between two soldiers; guarding me like something precious. But really, they want to kill my love.

Nervously, I am thinking of what to do. Should I kill myself, or wait for my highwayman and die together? The soldiers are armed with muskets. And just beside my breast, the musket that will end my life.

I can hear the sound of his horse. Are the soldiers deaf? Can they not hear that? My finger reluctantly touches the trigger. I know the highwayman is coming; I can hear the clip, clopping of his horse. I have to shoot myself. Boom!



Ellie wrote from a different angle
I knew it! I knew that I would die because of that job of his. A highwayman! Why couldn’t he be a shoe polisher or own a shop? Look at me, bound to the foot of the bed. If he comes he will die. They will shoot him.
I mean, really, they will kill him! But why me? Ok, maybe I helped him get away – but I am not HIM!
My hands are blood red.
Tied to the foot of my bed.
To warn him I must die,
Without saying goodbye.
My brave, last act of the night.
Now I will die – in fright. BANG!