Read The Boy Patrol Around the Council Fire Page 6


  CHAPTER VI -- A Patriot Martyr

  The next day brought a marked coolness in the temperature. Inpreparation for the evening's instructive entertainment, nearly all theboys spent the time in roaming through the woods, taking notes andbrushing up their knowledge of birds, which were met with only inmoderate numbers.

  Mike Murphy told Alvin Landon and Chester Haynes of his singularexperience the night before, and asked their help in solving the puzzle.

  "I wish we could aid you," replied Alvin, "but it is as much a mysteryto us as it is to you. Gordon Calhoun went with us in the other canoe tothe western end of the lake, where we found so romantic a spot that weate our lunch there and did not return until after dark."

  "And ye didn't obsarve anything of thim tramps and their diveoverboord?"

  "We must have been deep in the woods when that took place and, ofcourse, we noticed nothing strange when we paddled back."

  "I've tried to pump Uncle Elk, but the valves won't work. I'm going tokaap at it till I larn the truth or break a trace."

  "Count us in to give all the help we can," Alvin assured him.

  That evening when the Boy Scouts gathered in the large room of thebungalow and disposed themselves in their free and easy fashion, amoderate fire was burning on the hearth and all were on the tiptoe ofexpectancy.

  "My friends," said Uncle Elk, "I am going to ask your permission toreverse the order which I laid out last night. Most of us old personsare apt to forget that the knowledge which interests us may not beequally interesting to everyone else. Although I cut short my talk aboutAmerican trees, it was still dry in some respects. Now if I should startin concerning birds you would by and by become weary. Oh, you needn'tshake your heads. I don't forget when I was a boy myself. So I havedecided to say nothing about our little brothers of the air untilto-morrow night, when we shall consider nothing else. The time now at mydisposal is to be given to the story I have in mind. If any one has anobjection to make let him do so now or forever after hold his peace."

  He looked around in the bright faces as if he really expected a protestinstead of a general series of smiles. Then with the prefatory remarkthat the narrative which he was about to give was true in every respect,he spoke as follows:

  "The cause of American independence never looked more gloomy than in thesummer and autumn of 1776. Washington with his famishing army was in thecity of New York, preparing for the attack that he knew would soon bemade by the British fleet and land forces. The American fortificationsextended from the ferry station of Brooklyn and Gowanus Bay to WallaboutBay (now Brooklyn Navy Yard), less than a mile and a half in length.Generals Sullivan and Stirling were in command, with five thousandmiserably equipped troops. Unfortunately that fine officer GeneralGreene was ill with a violent fever, and the boastful Sullivan assumedcharge, but Washington soon replaced him with General Putnam. By a fataloversight, one of the three roads over any of which the enemy couldadvance if it was unguarded, was left invitingly open. Through this theBritish soldiers rushed and drove the Americans pell-mell out of theirintrenchments.

  "Had Howe flung off his natural indolence, he would have captured thewhole patriot army, including Washington and his officers, but certainof soon doing so, he wished to save the lives of his men. The Americanshad several hundred killed and lost a thousand prisoners, among thelatter being Generals Sullivan and Stirling. The leading officers weresoon exchanged, but the privates suffered horribly in the hideous SugarHouse and rotten hulks at Wallabout.

  "A strange providence saved the Continental army. The fleet was checkedby adverse winds, and a dense fog settled over Brooklyn, but did nottouch the other shore. Thus hidden from sight, the Americans stole backto New York, unseen by the enemy.

  "But, as I said, the outlook could not have been more gloomy. Thesituation was critical to the last degree. The army was so demoralizedthat little discipline remained; whole companies deserted; the fewrecruits who came into camp met double their number going out; those whostayed clamored for their pay, and the money chest was as empty as anegg shell. Winter was coming on, and more than once it looked as if thearmy would dwindle to nothing. The fourteen thousand troops declared fitfor duty were strung the whole length of Manhattan Island.

  "The crisis was imminent and Washington called a council of warSeptember 7th, to decide whether New York should be abandoned ordefended. The commander, seeing the dread necessity coming, had askedCongress if he should not burn the city rather than allow it to serve asthe winter quarters of the invaders. He was ordered to use special careto prevent any damage being done, because that body was sure the placewould soon be recovered. The first council of war decided to stay anddefend New York.

  "A few days later, however, another council agreed that the only coursepossible was to leave the city and take position on Harlem Heights. Thepublic stores were to be sent to Dobbs Ferry and the sick carried acrossto New Jersey. The main army would march northward and General Putnamwould stay in New York with four thousand troops. If he found hisposition untenable, he was to follow Washington.

  "At this council the commander-in-chief said:

  "'I know absolutely nothing of the intentions of the enemy. Twoships-of-war have gone up the East River and others will follow. Theirtroops are active everywhere, but I cannot even guess what they mean todo. Until I have knowledge on that point, I am helpless.'

  "In his distressful dilemma, Washington wrote to General Heath atKingsbridge, entreating him and General Clinton to aid in securing theindispensable information. He told them to spare no expense or pains,adding that not since the beginning of the war had he been so uneasy.

  "Shortly after, Washington called his officers together again. He toldthem he was still without the least knowledge of the plans of the enemy.Only one recourse remained to him:--that was to send a spy into theBritish lines in quest of the information. Such a man must beclear-headed, cool, tactful, a good draughtsman and of undauntedcourage. He appealed to Lieutenant-Colonel Knowlton (soon to die thedeath of a patriot) to find him the person. Knowlton laid the requestbefore a conference of his officers, and asked whether any one waswilling to volunteer.

  "A spy is very different from a scout and in the eyes of most people isthe most contemptible of creatures, for the essence of his duty istreachery. To succeed he must play the hypocrite and betray confidenceat every turn. In such scorn is a spy held by civilized nations that heis not permitted to die the death of a soldier, but is hanged like theworst of felons.

  "The request of Knowlton was succeeded by an indignant hush. The bronzedfaces flushed as if under the sting of an insult, and the officers darednot trust themselves to reply. In the midst of the strained silence, aclear voice spoke:

  "'I will go!'

  "Every eye was turned in astonishment on the speaker. He was a young manof athletic figure and handsome face, whose paleness was due to a severeillness from which he was hardly yet recovered. He wore the uniform of acaptain, and in the whole army there was not a braver or more belovedofficer than he. His words caused a painful shock to his comrades, who,believing a disgraceful death was certain to follow his mad attempt,closed around him and protested in the most forceful language at theircommand. To all their appeals he smiled and shook his head.

  "'Gentlemen, it is useless. I am touched by your friendship, but all thearguments you bring forward have already been considered by me. A spy islooked upon with loathing, but the necessity of one's country makesevery kind of service honorable. I am not seeking promotion or pecuniaryreward. I go to serve our cause, for which I am ready at any time togive my life.'

  "It was not the words alone, but their emphasis which silenced hiscomrades. They saw it was useless to appeal to one whose patriotismthrobbed and burned through his entire being, and inspired everythought, word and deed.

  "And who was the young officer who thus took his life in his hands thathe might serve the cause of liberty?

  "He was Captain Nathan Hale, born in Connecticut, in 1755, the six
thchild among twelve, of the strictest Puritan parents. His mental andathletic gifts were wonderful. None of his playmates could approach himin running, leaping, swimming, throwing, wrestling and the feats ofstrength and agility so much admired by all rugged American youths. Manya time he would place a row of empty barrels beside one another and withlittle effort spring out of one into the other until he had completedthe series. Standing beside a fence whose top rail touched his chin, hewould rest one hand lightly on it and vault over as easily as a deer.One day, while a student at Yale, in a contest with his friends, he madeso prodigious a leap that the bounds were carefully marked and preservedfor years, the admiration and despair of all subsequent students.

  "But, extraordinary as was Nathan Hale's athletic skill, his mentalpowers were more brilliant, while his social qualities made him afavorite with all. His simplicity, unfailing good nature and readinessto help others, no matter whom, justified the remark: 'Every man, womanand child who knew him were his friends and among them not one was everan enemy.'

  "He entered Yale College when fifteen years old and was graduated in duecourse with the highest honors. This fact attests his scholarship andability. He was easily the most popular student, not only with hisclassmates, but with the tutors and the faculty of the college and thebest families in New Haven.

  "Hale left college in 1773 and engaged in teaching. In 1774, he was madepreceptor in the Union Grammar School at New London. The building iscarefully preserved and is well worth a visit. The institution was of ahigh order, and its students were not only grounded thoroughly in anEnglish education, but were prepared for college. Hale was its firstpreceptor, and his success was pronounced from the beginning. Boys likeyou have admired and always will admire physical prowess, and there wasnever one among them all who could approach their instructor in thatrespect. What a star football player he would have made in these laterdays! Added to this ability, his mental and social gifts and hisprofound religious nature explain his marked success among the youth ofNew London.

  "On the 21st of April, 1775, a rider dashed into the little town uponhis foaming horse and shouted the news of Lexington and Concord. Pausingonly long enough to rest his panting steed and to snatch a bit of food,he thundered away for New York with his momentous tidings.

  "Instantly New London flamed with excitement. The bells were rung and a'town meeting,' the inalienable recourse of all New Englanders, wascalled at the court house for early candle light. Seemingly the wholetown crowded thither. There were burning speeches and Hale's was themost impassioned of all.

  "The talking being over, he wrote down his name as a volunteer. Otherscaught the contagion and elbowed one another in their eagerness to beamong the first to enlist. The next morning, when the boys came togetherat the call of the school bell, their teacher offered up an earnestprayer for the success of the great struggle that had opened, commendedhis pupils to the care of their Heavenly Father, shook the hands of eachlad in turn, uttered a few words of advice, and set out for Cambridge.Some time later, he came back to New London and resumed his duties inthe school.

  "The young patriot, however, could not remain idle so long as hisbeloved country needed her sons. He enlisted as a lieutenant in ColonelCharles Webb's regiment, which had been raised by order of the GeneralAssembly of Connecticut for home defense and, if needed, for nationalprotection. In September, the regiment marched to Cambridge and tookpart in the siege of Boston. Upon the departure of the British forHalifax, the American army went to New York. Some months later, when theteam of his company's enlistment expired, Hale offered to give the menhis month's pay if they would stay a little while longer.

  "The Continentals had been in New York but a short time when Hale becamethe hero of a daring exploit. A British supply vessel lay in the EastRiver under the protection of a frigate of sixty-four guns. He obtainedpermission to attempt the capture of the sloop. Selecting a few men asbrave as himself, they stepped into a whale boat, rowed silently outlate at night and drew up beside the vessel undetected by the watch.Like so many phantoms, the boarders climbed over the side, seized thesentinel, fastened the crew below the hatches, lifted anchor and tookthe prize into Coenties Slip, without raising the slightest alarm. Daywas breaking when Hale, holding the helm, was recognized by his friends,who received him with hurrahs. For once at least his comrades enjoyed a'square meal.'

  "In May, 1776, he became captain of a company of Continental Rangersattached to Lieutenant-Colonel Knowlton's regiment, called 'Congress'Own.' The young officer's company was the best drilled and disciplinedof all. Little is known of his actions during those eventful days, butit cannot be doubted that he did his duty well. Illness kept him in NewYork at the time the British invaded Long Island, and still weak andpale, he joined the troops who retreated toward Harlem Heights early inSeptember.

  "This brings me back to the day when Lieutenant-Colonel Knowlton walkedinto the quarters of General Washington and introduced Captain Hale asthe officer who had volunteered to serve him as a spy. The commanderlooked admiringly into the blue eyes of the handsome young athlete andtook his hand. The great man was moved and feelingly thanked him for theinestimable service he hoped he would render his country. He saw withoutquestioning that Hale was the ideal actor for so perilous a role. Hegave him minute instructions, with a written order to the owners of allAmerican vessels in Long Island Sound to take him to any point on LongIsland where he might wish to go.

  "Captain Hale left camp the same evening. He took with him SergeantStephen Hempstead, a member of his company, who was devoted to theofficer, and a servant, Ansel Wright. They had to walk fifty miles toNorwalk before they found a safe place to cross the Sound, because ofthe British cruisers that were ever moving to and fro. At this place,Hale took off his regimentals and donned a brown cloth suit and abroad-brimmed hat. He assumed the character of a Quaker school teacher,who had wearied of the society of the rebels in New York and had startedout to find a situation among more congenial folk.

  "The captain instructed his companions to wait at Norwalk until the20th, upon which day he expected to come back. They were to send a boatfor him on that morning. He left with them his uniform, his commissionand all other papers that might betray his identity. He crossed theSound in a sloop and went ashore on the point of Great Neck inHuntingdon Bay, being rowed thither in a yawl. He landed near a placecalled 'The Cedars,' not far from a tavern kept by a widow namedChichester. She was a spiteful Tory and the inn was a lounging place forthose of her neighbors who were of the same mind. In the gray light ofearly morning Hale walked past without being noticed. A mile beyond, hestopped at the farm house of William Johnson, and obtained breakfast anda bed for several hours' rest. Thence he went directly into the nearestBritish lines, where he was received without suspicion. He was gone forabout two weeks, but what he did, where he went, what adventures befellhim and the various means he used to escape detection can never beknown. It is certain that he visited all the enemy's encampments nearBrooklyn and twice passed their lines. He made drawings and notes ofwhat he saw and learned; he went from Brooklyn, then only a ferrystation, to New York City, which the British captured after hisdeparture, and was equally thorough in every place. The drawings andmemoranda, the latter written in Latin, were hidden under the looseinner soles of his shoes.

  "Having finished his work in New York, Hale recrossed to Brooklyn andthreaded his way through the lines to Huntingdon. By this time he feltso secure in his disguise that he entered without hesitation the tavernof Widow Chichester and sat down among a group of loungers, with whom hetalked in his character of a Quaker school teacher. He was happy overthe thought that his dangerous work was over and the important knowledgehe had gained would soon be in the hands of General Washington.

  "Among the strangers in the place was one whose face seemed familiar toHale, but he could not recall where he had ever met the man. He decidedthat the resemblance was one of those accidental ones that areoccasionally seen, and he gave the matter no further thought. By and bythe fell
ow, who silently studied the beaming young Quaker, slipped outof doors and did not return.

  "Ah, why did Hale fail to see the sinister meaning of all this? Afterescaping so many perils, why did he not continue alert and suspiciousuntil safe within his own lines? Sad to say, not a single misgivingentered his thoughts, and after awhile he bade the company good nightand went to his room.

  "The next morning at dawn he walked to the bay to meet the boat that wasto come for him. With a thrill of delighted expectancy, he saw a craftcontaining several men approaching. He sprang lightly down the bank andthen suddenly stopped in consternation. The boat was filled with Britishmarines under command of an officer!

  "He whirled about to flee. Had he discovered his peril sooner and gaineda few minutes' start, no pursuer could have overtaken him. But sixmuskets were leveled, and he was ordered to surrender under threat ofinstant death. He paused, came down the bank again and stepped into theboat, which was rowed out to the British ship _Halifax_. There he wassearched and the fatal papers were found on him.

  "The tradition is that the man in the tavern who betrayed Hale was adistant Tory relative who recognized him as soon as he entered theplace. Upon leaving the inn, he went to a British naval officer inHuntingdon Bay with the news.

  "Captain Hale was taken to New York on the 21st and brought before LordHowe, who read the documents that had been captured with the prisoner.It was useless to try to conceal the truth and Hale denied nothing. Hesaid he wished no court-martial and was ready to meet his fate.

  "Howe was naturally a kind-hearted man, but just then he was greatlyirritated over a fire which had destroyed several hundred houses in NewYork, and which he believed had been started by the Americans to preventhis use of them. He condemned Hale to be hanged at daylight the nextmorning and placed him in the custody of William Cunningham, ProvostMarshal and one of the most brutal wretches that ever lived. It is someconsolation to know that this miscreant was hanged himself some yearslater for scores of confessed murders to which he had been accessory. Hethrust Hale into a prison cell, and would not have unpinioned him exceptfor the intercession of a British officer. When the prisoner asked forthe presence of a chaplain, it was refused with curses, as was hisrequest for a Bible. The same friendly officer obtained permission forHale to write letters to his mother, sisters and the girl to whom he wasbetrothed. The missives were handed to Cunningham to be forwarded. Witha leer he read each and then tore them up and flung the fragments on thefloor. Hale looked scornfully at him but did not speak.

  "The next morning he was led to the gallows, which was the limb of anapple tree, exactly where is not known. In accordance with the militarycustom of those days, a ladder was placed under the branch. The prisonerclimbed two or three rounds, when at a signal the support was turned andhe was left dangling in the air. A moment before, he had looked down inthe faces of the hushed spectators and uttered his last noble words:

  "'I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country!'

  "No one knows where the martyr was buried. On November 25, 1893, astatue to his memory was unveiled in City Hall Park, in the presence ofa vast assemblage and amid impressive ceremonies."