“On the 21st of April, 1775, a rider dashed into the little town upon his foaming horse and shouted the news of Lexington and Concord. Pausing only 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, was called at the court house for early candle light. Seemingly the whole town crowded thither. There were burning speeches and Hale’s was the most impassioned of all.
“The talking being over, he wrote down his name as a volunteer. Others caught the contagion and elbowed one another in their eagerness to be among the first to enlist. The next morning, when the boys came together at the call of the school bell, their teacher offered up an earnest prayer for the success of the great struggle that had opened, commended his pupils to the care of their Heavenly Father, shook the hands of each lad 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 in the school.
“The young patriot, however, could not remain idle so long as his beloved country needed her sons. He enlisted as a lieutenant in Colonel Charles Webb’s regiment, which had been raised by order of the General Assembly of Connecticut for home defense and, if needed, for national protection. In September, the regiment marched to Cambridge and took part in the siege of Boston. Upon the departure of the British for Halifax, the American army went to New York. Some months later, when the team of his company’s enlistment expired, Hale offered to give the men his month’s pay if they would stay a little while longer.
“The Continentals had been in New York but a short time when Hale became the hero of a daring exploit. A British supply vessel lay in the East River under the protection of a frigate of sixty-four guns. He obtained permission to attempt the capture of the sloop. Selecting a few men as brave as himself, they stepped into a whale boat, rowed silently out late at night and drew up beside the vessel undetected by the watch. Like so many phantoms, the boarders climbed over the side, seized the sentinel, fastened the crew below the hatches, lifted anchor and took the prize into Coenties Slip, without raising the slightest alarm. Day was 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 Rangers attached to Lieutenant-Colonel Knowlton’s regiment, called ‘Congress’ Own.’ The young officer’s company was the best drilled and disciplined of all. Little is known of his actions during those eventful days, but it cannot be doubted that he did his duty well. Illness kept him in New York at the time the British invaded Long Island, and still weak and pale, he joined the troops who retreated toward Harlem Heights early in September.
“This brings me back to the day when Lieutenant-Colonel Knowlton walked into the quarters of General Washington and introduced Captain Hale as the officer who had volunteered to serve him as a spy. The commander looked admiringly into the blue eyes of the handsome young athlete and took his hand. The great man was moved and feelingly thanked him for the inestimable service he hoped he would render his country. He saw without questioning that Hale was the ideal actor for so perilous a rôle. He gave him minute instructions, with a written order to the owners of all American vessels in Long Island Sound to take him to any point on Long Island where he might wish to go.
“Captain Hale left camp the same evening. He took with him Sergeant Stephen Hempstead, a member of his company, who was devoted to the officer, and a servant, Ansel Wright. They had to walk fifty miles to Norwalk before they found a safe place to cross the Sound, because of the British cruisers that were ever moving to and fro. At this place, Hale took off his regimentals and donned a brown cloth suit and a broad-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 started out to find a situation among more congenial folk.
“The captain instructed his companions to wait at Norwalk until the 20th, upon which day he expected to come back. They were to send a boat for him on that morning. He left with them his uniform, his commission and all other papers that might betray his identity. He crossed the Sound in a sloop and went ashore on the point of Great Neck in Huntingdon Bay, being rowed thither in a yawl. He landed near a place called ‘The Cedars,’ not far from a tavern kept by a widow named Chichester. She was a spiteful Tory and the inn was a lounging place for those of her neighbors who were of the same mind. In the gray light of early morning Hale walked past without being noticed. A mile beyond, he stopped at the farm house of William Johnson, and obtained breakfast and a bed for several hours’ rest. Thence he went directly into the nearest British lines, where he was received without suspicion. He was gone for about two weeks, but what he did, where he went, what adventures befell him and the various means he used to escape detection can never be known. It is certain that he visited all the enemy’s encampments near Brooklyn and twice passed their lines. He made drawings and notes of what he saw and learned; he went from Brooklyn, then only a ferry station, to New York City, which the British captured after his departure, and was equally thorough in every place. The drawings and memoranda, the latter written in Latin, were hidden under the loose inner soles of his shoes.
“Having finished his work in New York, Hale recrossed to Brooklyn and threaded his way through the lines to Huntingdon. By this time he felt so secure in his disguise that he entered without hesitation the tavern of Widow Chichester and sat down among a group of loungers, with whom he talked in his character of a Quaker school teacher. He was happy over the thought that his dangerous work was over and the important knowledge he had gained would soon be in the hands of General Washington.
“Among the strangers in the place was one whose face seemed familiar to Hale, but he could not recall where he had ever met the man. He decided that the resemblance was one of those accidental ones that are occasionally seen, and he gave the matter no further thought. By and by the fellow, who silently studied the beaming young Quaker, slipped out of doors and did not return.
“Ah, why did Hale fail to see the sinister meaning of all this? After escaping so many perils, why did he not continue alert and suspicious until safe within his own lines? Sad to say, not a single misgiving entered his thoughts, and after awhile he bade the company good night and went to his room.
“The next morning at dawn he walked to the bay to meet the boat that was to come for him. With a thrill of delighted expectancy, he saw a craft containing several men approaching. He sprang lightly down the bank and then suddenly stopped in consternation. The boat was filled with British marines under command of an officer!
“He whirled about to flee. Had he discovered his peril sooner and gained a few minutes’ start, no pursuer could have overtaken him. But six muskets were leveled, and he was ordered to surrender under threat of instant death. He paused, came down the bank again and stepped into the boat, which was rowed out to the British ship Halifax. There he was searched and the fatal papers were found on him.
“The tradition is that the man in the tavern who betrayed Hale was a distant Tory relative who recognized him as soon as he entered the place. Upon leaving the inn, he went to a British naval officer in Huntingdon Bay with the news.
“Captain Hale was taken to New York on the 21st and brought before Lord Howe, who read the documents that had been captured with the prisoner. It was useless to try to conceal the truth and Hale denied nothing. He said he wished no court-martial and was ready to meet his fate.
“Howe was naturally a kind-hearted man, but just then he was greatly irritated over a fire which had destroyed several hundred houses in New York, and which he believed had been started by the Americans to prevent his use of them. He condemned Hale to be hanged at daylight the next morning and placed him in the custody of William Cunningham, Provost Marshal and one of the most
brutal wretches that ever lived. It is some consolation to know that this miscreant was hanged himself some years later for scores of confessed murders to which he had been accessory. He thrust Hale into a prison cell, and would not have unpinioned him except for the intercession of a British officer. When the prisoner asked for the presence of a chaplain, it was refused with curses, as was his request for a Bible. The same friendly officer obtained permission for Hale to write letters to his mother, sisters and the girl to whom he was betrothed. The missives were handed to Cunningham to be forwarded. With a leer he read each and then tore them up and flung the fragments on the floor. Hale looked scornfully at him but did not speak.
“The next morning he was led to the gallows, which was the limb of an apple tree, exactly where is not known. In accordance with the military custom of those days, a ladder was placed under the branch. The prisoner climbed two or three rounds, when at a signal the support was turned and he was left dangling in the air. A moment before, he had looked down in the 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, a statue to his memory was unveiled in City Hall Park, in the presence of a vast assemblage and amid impressive ceremonies.”
CHAPTER VII
Concerning Certain New England Birds
“One reason why I deferred our talk about birds,” said Uncle Elk, addressing the troop of Boy Scouts who had gathered in the large room of the bungalow the next evening, “is that you might have more opportunity to brighten up your knowledge on the subject. Scout Master Hall tells me that when you learned you were to spend your vacation in southern Maine, you started in to inform yourselves about the birds which are to be found in New England. It is impossible under the circumstances that you should see them all, for the season is not the most favorable and not even a majority are to be found in this section. Instead of dealing out a lot of facts, I am going to ask you do it for me. Secretary Rothstein has given me a list of all the Boy Scouts who are present. There are too many of you for me to identify separately, so I shall call upon you at random. I think,” he added with a sly glance at the invalid on his right, “that I shall except Jack, since he seems to know all about our feathered inhabitants and would be simply taking my place.
“Starting with Mr. Hall’s Patrol I call upon his leader, Charles A. Chase, to name the first order as it is generally accepted.”
The alert young man promptly arose and said:
“It is the raptores, which means robbers.”
“What does it include?”
“The falcons proper, hawks, buzzard-hawks, eagles, horned owls, gray owls and day owls.”
“Very good. Corporal George Robe will name the second order.”
The plump little fellow blushed but did not hesitate.
“Scansores or climbers, which takes in cuckoos and woodpeckers.”
“The third order is so numerous that I can hardly expect any one to remember the complete list. Will Kenneth Henke name the third order?”
“Insessores or perchers.”
“I will ask Kenneth Mitchell, Robert Snow and Ernest Oberlander to help you in making out a complete catalogue.”
While these boys did well, they would not have succeeded but for the aid of Colgate Craig and Robert Rice. Even then Uncle Elk had to supply several names, for the long list included humming birds, goatsuckers, screamers, kingfishers, flycatchers, singers, thrushes, mocking birds, wrens, warblers, tanagers, swallows, shrikes, skylarks, sparrows, orioles, blackbirds, crows, jays and some others less known.
Alvin Landon had an easy task with the rasores or scratchers, which embrace the doves, game birds such as the Canada grouse, spruce partridge, pinnated grouse, ruffed grouse improperly called the partridge, Virginia partridge, quail and Bob White.
Chester Haynes gave the fifth order as grallatores or waders, which with its herons, shore birds, plovers, snipes, sandpipers and others are known to every one.
The sixth and last order as named by Hubert Wood was the natores or swimmers, with the principal of which every American boy is familiar. Hubert, with the assistance of Harold Hopkins, named swans, geese, several kinds of ducks, gulls, terns, divers, loons and grebes.
“That is a pretty full list,” commented Uncle Elk, “but it may be that Michael has some other waders in mind.”
“That I hev,” responded the Irish youth springing to his feet; “the first time Alvin and Chester tried to paddle a canoe it tipped over wid ’em—they lacking the sense I showed—and the water not being deep the same was waders for the time.”
Mike did not smile as he resumed his seat on the floor, though every one else did.
“Let me remind you,” added Uncle Elk, “that we have simply named the six orders, without any attempt to particularize. To illustrate will you name a bird?”
Some one called:
“Let’s talk about the thrush.”
“Very well; its head is a clear cinnamon brown, the under parts white, sometimes tinged with buff on the breast and thickly marked beneath except on the chin and throat. The sides of the head are a dark brown, streaked with white, with maxillary streaks on each side of the throat. It is a trifle over eight inches long, the wings being a little more than half of that, and the eggs are usually four in number, of a uniform light-blue color, without spots and showing a slight tint of green.
“The song thrush is common in Rhode Island, Connecticut and Massachusetts, but is not often seen in the other New England States. I have had persons say they saw and heard them in this section, when it was either the hermit or olive-backed thrush. You may look for their return from the South about the tenth of May, the two sexes coming at the same time.
“The great charm of the thrush is its wonderful voice. Hardly has it arrived when you hear the sweet notes of the male at early dawn or when twilight is coming on. Very rarely is it heard in the middle of the day, unless the sky is overcast. The best description of that which cannot be described is by Nuttall, which so impressed me when I first read it that I have never forgotten the words. He says:
“‘The prelude to this song resembles almost the double-tonguing of the flute, blended with a tinkling, shrill, and solemn warble, which re-echoes from his solitary retreat like the dirge of some recluse, who shuns the busy haunts of life. The whole air consists usually of four parts, or bars, which succeed in deliberate tune, finally blending together in impressive and soothing harmony, becoming more mellow and sweet at every repetition. Rival performers seem to challenge each other from various parts of the wood, vying for the favor of their mates with sympathetic responses and softer tones. And some, waging a jealous strife, terminate the warm dispute by an appeal to combat and violence. Like the robin and the thresher, in dark and gloomy weather when other birds are sheltered and silent, the clear notes of the wood thrush are heard through the dripping woods from dawn to dusk; so that the sweeter and more constant is his song. His clear and interrupted whistle is likewise often nearly the only voice of melody heard by the traveler to midday, in the heat of summer, as he traverses the silent, dark and wooded wilderness, remote from the haunts of men.’
“You have all been charmed by the music of this bird and will agree that this description, while it falls short of the reality, cannot be excelled. Now, in your rambles you have seen birds with gorgeous plumage; which one do you consider the most beautiful of all?”
After some discussion, the majority pronounced in favor of the scarlet tanager.
“Most persons will agree with you, but my preference is for what is popularly known as the wood duck, which builds its nests in trees and in size and habits resembles the common duck. The colors shown in the feathers of this bird to my mind are simply bewildering in their beauty.
“But to return to the tanager. He is found in all parts of New England but more frequently in the southern portions. A noticea
ble fact about this tanager is that it seems to be extending its range. I hear that it has been seen for the first time in sections where those familiar with its habits never expected to find it. Will Arthur Mitchell tell me when it arrives from the South and about its nesting?”
The lad appealed to rose and replied:
“It comes north about the middle of May, looks around for two weeks or so and then begins building its nest. It prefers oak groves situated near swamps. The nest is placed on the horizontal limb of a tree not more than twenty feet above ground.”
“What of the eggs?”
“They vary from three to five in number, and are of a light greenish blue with spatters of purplish brown. It belongs to the order of perehers.”
“Is the tanager a useful bird?”
“It is; the males destroy thousands of insects and though the song isn’t noteworthy, it is pleasant to hear.”
“Will Gordon Calhoun give a general description of this bird?”
“The wings and tail of the male are like black silk velvet, but the main color is a brilliant blood red. The female wears a more sober dress.”
When the rambling talk had continued for some time longer, Scout Master Hall asked Uncle Elk to tell them something about bird migration.
“That is an interesting subject over which I with thousands have speculated and theorized without learning much. It is easy to understand why the geese from the extreme north hike south with the approach of the arctic winter, and why many others in more temperate latitudes do the same, coming north with the return of spring, but some of the migrations are beyond explanation. I should like to ask what birds make the longest flights?”
Scout Master Hall and Jack Crandall expressed their views, but the old man shook his head.
“Since all of you did no more than guess, it was a waste of time. Now follow me closely. We have no large maps here to place on the wall for you to study, but you have a fair knowledge of geography and can draw a mental map that will serve. Picture a map of the western hemisphere. Have you done so?”
The Edward S. Ellis Megapack Page 317