How Did Nathan Hale Grow Up
In mid-September of 1776, Captain Nathan Hale would set off for Long Island, New York to debut his career in espionage. He would conduct a short four-day mission behind enemy lines, gather and reporting valuable intel to the Continental Army. The American patriot was nearly six feet tall in height, towering well above most men of his time, and boasted an athletic build along with unforgettable good looks. Dr. Eneas Munson, Hale’s mentor during college years, would remark: “His chest was broad; his muscles were form; his face wore a most benign expression; his complexion was roseate; his eyes were light blue and beamed with intelligence; his hair was soft and light brown in color, and his speech was rather low, sweet, and musical.” Hale stood out, but would nonetheless attempt to disguise himself amongst British soldiers and Tories. And Munson would continue, “Why, all the girls in New Haven fell in love with him, and wept tears of real sorrow when they heard of his sad fate.” As redcoats
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gradually filled the shores of Long Island in the summer of 1776, colonists could only stand and watch as the enemy, under General William Howe’s command, grew in number. If the rebels didn’t form a counter plan soon, the British forces would take full control over New York. But General Washington could do nothing if he had no knowledge of the numbers they might face in battle—the Continental Army was hopeless if they were unaware of when Howe might launch his own attack. Thus, in September 1776, desperate Washington urged his Colonel Thomas Knowlton to recruit a spy. He would pass behind enemy lines in New York and gather the valuable intelligence they needed. Knowlton formed a meeting amongst his trusted rangers to relay the general’s call to arms. He asked for a volunteer, but heard nothing, as men only shrunk back—until one captain burst into the meeting and asked what was going on. Still pale and sweaty from influenza, Nathan Hale was barely able to stand, but he listened to what Knowlton had to say. And after taking it all in, he took one confident step forward and proclaimed to the room, “I will undertake it, sir.” Age twenty one, Hale had just put his life on the line. He had come to that meeting straight from his camp’s sick tents. But this was not the first time Hale would surprise everybody. Despite being born a sickly child, he rose beyond his parents’ expectations of a short lifespan. Hale would grow to become an intelligent and athletic teenager, breaking school records and graduating at the top of his class in Yale University. Munson, in addition to describing Hale as “perfectly proportioned . . . the most manly man I had ever met,” would also touch on his student’s behavior and reputation: “[Hale was] always neat. He was quick to lend a helping hand to a being in distress, brute or human: was overflowing with good humor, and was the idol of all his acquaintances.” In the end, Hale would rise to become a successful and affable leader in the American Revolution, rising to the rank of captain in the Continental Army. When Hale joined the military in 1775 as a first lieutenant, there was no doubt that he would rise through the ranks quickly. He was beginning to seek more action than “military duty out in the countryside.” After the Battle of Long Island in August 1776, he would be chosen to serve as a captain in “Congress’s Own,” a small company of Connecticut rangers chosen by Colonel Knowlton. It was by joining this company that Hale would eventually be chosen to serve his comrades further and spy on the enemy. General Hull had tried to dissuade Hale, arguing that “his nature was too frank and open for deceit and disguise...who respects the character of a spy, assuming the garb of friendship but to betray?” Yet Hale would once again repeat: “For a year I have been attached to the army, and have not rendered any material service...I am not influenced by the expectation of promotion....I wish to be useful, and every kind of service, necessary to the public good, becomes honourable by being necessary.” By these words, Hale proved how rare, how selfless, of a patriot he was. He was willing to put his life on the line for the sole sake of fighting for his country. Thus, Hale went to spy in New York. While never trained in the skills of espionage, Hale disguised himself as a Dutch schoolmaster best he could, carrying his Yale College diploma as proof of his credentials. It was an arguably weak disguise, but what really exposed Hale’s true colours was his open and “frank” nature—just as Hull had warned.
On September 21, Nathan Hale was captured by the ruthless Robert Rogers, a British colonel at the time, and sentenced to hang the next morning without trial.
There was a possibility that Nathan was first identified by his Tory cousin, Samuel Hale. Ultimately, however, it was Rogers who would catch America’s first spy. Rogers gained Hale’s trust with a simple lie, stating to be “upon the business of spying out of the inclination of the people and motion of the British troops.” Afterwards, he invited Hale for dinner in his own quarters. They would talk as friends until redcoats had the house surrounded and arrest the spy. But when finally brought to General Howe in the British camps, Hale “at once declared his name, his rank in the American army, and his object in coming within the British line,” Hull reported. “[He] frankly acknowledged his rank and his purpose as a spy.” Hale accepted that he was going to be hanged the next morning at 11:00 AM, September 22,
1776. For the night preceding his execution, Nathan Hale remained resilient in the face of death. Even when first captured and bound with shackles, he must have realized that he had been caught as a spy on enemy lines—and by law, he was subject to a sentence of death without trial. Hale would keep his dignity and accept his death as the price for fighting for his country. After immediately revealing his identity and handing over his incriminating documents, Hale was allowed under the protective custody of Captain John Montresor, Howe’s chief engineer. Although he was refused the company of a chaplain or even a Bible, Hale would not spend his last night in misery. Montresor was impressed by the maps and drawings of British fortifications, and throughout the night, he would sit and hold genuine conversation with Hale. The next morning, Montresor would write that Hale “was calm, and bore himself with gentle dignity, the consciousness of rectitude and high intentions.” Even when Hale was brought out to hang, Hale stood proudly for each minute leading to his death, his head tilted high. He spoke his last words, “I am so satisfied with the cause in which I have engaged that my only regret is that I have not more than one to offer in its service,” deriving them from the Addison’s Cato:
—How beautiful is death, when earned by virtue! Who would not be that youth? what pity is it That we can die but once to serve our country!
For the next three days, a noose would suspend Hale’s body under the branch of an apple tree, for all to see as they passed by. America’s first spy was left to rot in the thick summer heat—before finally being buried in an unmarked tomb. Few people witnessed his bravery at death. Yet why was Nathan Hale remembered so vividly as America’s first martyr—why does his story persist into the present, preserved in the mediums of biographies and ballads? Although distorted to “My only regret is that I have but one life to lose for my country,” Hale’s last words live on. His choice to become a spy might have been foolish, but as a patriot and soldier, Hale stood for values even the British soldiers would praise openly. They would talk about his infamous moments before execution. British lieutenant Frederick Mackenzie would report Hale’s last words vividly, having only heard of the hanging by word of mouth . . . Montresor would even visit the Americans in person, under a white flag of truce to express his grief and officially report Hale’s death to the Continental Army.
Nathan Hale had died young, in the sight of a very few men. But America still remembers him—they immortalized
gradually filled the shores of Long Island in the summer of 1776, colonists could only stand and watch as the enemy, under General William Howe’s command, grew in number. If the rebels didn’t form a counter plan soon, the British forces would take full control over New York. But General Washington could do nothing if he had no knowledge of the numbers they might face in battle—the Continental Army was hopeless if they were unaware of when Howe might launch his own attack. Thus, in September 1776, desperate Washington urged his Colonel Thomas Knowlton to recruit a spy. He would pass behind enemy lines in New York and gather the valuable intelligence they needed. Knowlton formed a meeting amongst his trusted rangers to relay the general’s call to arms. He asked for a volunteer, but heard nothing, as men only shrunk back—until one captain burst into the meeting and asked what was going on. Still pale and sweaty from influenza, Nathan Hale was barely able to stand, but he listened to what Knowlton had to say. And after taking it all in, he took one confident step forward and proclaimed to the room, “I will undertake it, sir.” Age twenty one, Hale had just put his life on the line. He had come to that meeting straight from his camp’s sick tents. But this was not the first time Hale would surprise everybody. Despite being born a sickly child, he rose beyond his parents’ expectations of a short lifespan. Hale would grow to become an intelligent and athletic teenager, breaking school records and graduating at the top of his class in Yale University. Munson, in addition to describing Hale as “perfectly proportioned . . . the most manly man I had ever met,” would also touch on his student’s behavior and reputation: “[Hale was] always neat. He was quick to lend a helping hand to a being in distress, brute or human: was overflowing with good humor, and was the idol of all his acquaintances.” In the end, Hale would rise to become a successful and affable leader in the American Revolution, rising to the rank of captain in the Continental Army. When Hale joined the military in 1775 as a first lieutenant, there was no doubt that he would rise through the ranks quickly. He was beginning to seek more action than “military duty out in the countryside.” After the Battle of Long Island in August 1776, he would be chosen to serve as a captain in “Congress’s Own,” a small company of Connecticut rangers chosen by Colonel Knowlton. It was by joining this company that Hale would eventually be chosen to serve his comrades further and spy on the enemy. General Hull had tried to dissuade Hale, arguing that “his nature was too frank and open for deceit and disguise...who respects the character of a spy, assuming the garb of friendship but to betray?” Yet Hale would once again repeat: “For a year I have been attached to the army, and have not rendered any material service...I am not influenced by the expectation of promotion....I wish to be useful, and every kind of service, necessary to the public good, becomes honourable by being necessary.” By these words, Hale proved how rare, how selfless, of a patriot he was. He was willing to put his life on the line for the sole sake of fighting for his country. Thus, Hale went to spy in New York. While never trained in the skills of espionage, Hale disguised himself as a Dutch schoolmaster best he could, carrying his Yale College diploma as proof of his credentials. It was an arguably weak disguise, but what really exposed Hale’s true colours was his open and “frank” nature—just as Hull had warned.
On September 21, Nathan Hale was captured by the ruthless Robert Rogers, a British colonel at the time, and sentenced to hang the next morning without trial.
There was a possibility that Nathan was first identified by his Tory cousin, Samuel Hale. Ultimately, however, it was Rogers who would catch America’s first spy. Rogers gained Hale’s trust with a simple lie, stating to be “upon the business of spying out of the inclination of the people and motion of the British troops.” Afterwards, he invited Hale for dinner in his own quarters. They would talk as friends until redcoats had the house surrounded and arrest the spy. But when finally brought to General Howe in the British camps, Hale “at once declared his name, his rank in the American army, and his object in coming within the British line,” Hull reported. “[He] frankly acknowledged his rank and his purpose as a spy.” Hale accepted that he was going to be hanged the next morning at 11:00 AM, September 22,
1776. For the night preceding his execution, Nathan Hale remained resilient in the face of death. Even when first captured and bound with shackles, he must have realized that he had been caught as a spy on enemy lines—and by law, he was subject to a sentence of death without trial. Hale would keep his dignity and accept his death as the price for fighting for his country. After immediately revealing his identity and handing over his incriminating documents, Hale was allowed under the protective custody of Captain John Montresor, Howe’s chief engineer. Although he was refused the company of a chaplain or even a Bible, Hale would not spend his last night in misery. Montresor was impressed by the maps and drawings of British fortifications, and throughout the night, he would sit and hold genuine conversation with Hale. The next morning, Montresor would write that Hale “was calm, and bore himself with gentle dignity, the consciousness of rectitude and high intentions.” Even when Hale was brought out to hang, Hale stood proudly for each minute leading to his death, his head tilted high. He spoke his last words, “I am so satisfied with the cause in which I have engaged that my only regret is that I have not more than one to offer in its service,” deriving them from the Addison’s Cato:
—How beautiful is death, when earned by virtue! Who would not be that youth? what pity is it That we can die but once to serve our country!
For the next three days, a noose would suspend Hale’s body under the branch of an apple tree, for all to see as they passed by. America’s first spy was left to rot in the thick summer heat—before finally being buried in an unmarked tomb. Few people witnessed his bravery at death. Yet why was Nathan Hale remembered so vividly as America’s first martyr—why does his story persist into the present, preserved in the mediums of biographies and ballads? Although distorted to “My only regret is that I have but one life to lose for my country,” Hale’s last words live on. His choice to become a spy might have been foolish, but as a patriot and soldier, Hale stood for values even the British soldiers would praise openly. They would talk about his infamous moments before execution. British lieutenant Frederick Mackenzie would report Hale’s last words vividly, having only heard of the hanging by word of mouth . . . Montresor would even visit the Americans in person, under a white flag of truce to express his grief and officially report Hale’s death to the Continental Army.
Nathan Hale had died young, in the sight of a very few men. But America still remembers him—they immortalized