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By Root 1152 0

debate with himself, wondering if a soldier could contribute more to the country’s cause than a man who gave education to the children. As the talk of war burst into the reality of Lexington and Concord, it was the British occupation of Boston that settled his argument. He had volunteered alongside many of his friends, made the march to Cambridge to join Washington’s army, had sat in earthworks for long weeks staring at the red-coated soldiers who stared back at him. When the British evacuated Boston, Hale had moved with the army to New York, had camped with the Nineteenth Connecticut Regiment near the city. He was quickly made an officer, promoted almost immediately to captain, an acknowledgment of his education and intellect, the young man who had gone to Yale College when he was only fourteen. He didn’t know much about being an officer, but the men who marched with him showed respect, a new experience for a man who had previously commanded only restless children.

There was respect from above as well, and he was offered the opportunity to join Colonel Thomas Knowlton’s Rangers, formed from the Connecticut regiments, a handpicked squad that would serve directly under Washington. They would be an official scouting unit, gathering information and intelligence beyond the normal chain of command. The opportunity excited him, since his duties thus far had been mostly mundane. He had never yet faced the enemy in combat. His unit had remained encamped in New York, while the great battle took place on Long Island. Though many in the nineteenth were relieved to be safely on Manhattan Island, Hale had wondered if he would ever know that experience, what those men had gone through, the men who stood and faced the enemy, the men who were now soldiers.

Once the Rangers had been organized, Colonel Knowlton himself had gathered the entire group together, had walked among them speaking of a specific mission. It was a mission for just one man, and there would be no uniform, no musket. Knowlton did not use the word, but the message was plain: General Washington needed a spy, someone to move through the British camps, someone who could provide information on when and where the British would move next. No one had volunteered, and Knowlton acknowledged that the job was unseemly, unfit for a real soldier. There was no respect to be found by being a spy. And, of course, a soldier caught out of uniform, behind the lines of the enemy, would simply be hanged.

Throughout the night that followed, he had thought again of all he had missed so far, knew that Knowlton himself had fought at Breed’s Hill, many of the men around him already taking their muskets into the line of fire, the campfires alive with tales of fights Hale could only imagine. No one spoke again of the new unpopular mission, but Hale could not escape the feeling that it was an opportunity, some way he could be useful. He had finally gone to Knowlton, had told him he would volunteer for the mission. Knowlton had accepted Hale’s offer with few words, and Hale understood that the colonel himself was unsure of the honor in this sort of job. But the two men had gone straight to Washington’s headquarters, and Hale had stood silently as Washington explained all he needed the young man to do. But that mission was on Long Island, and Washington could not have known that in a few days, everything would change. So now, Nathan Hale the schoolmaster was in New York.

SEPTEMBER 20, 1776

He had come to the city for the first time in late spring, when the army had arrived from Boston, the nineteenth pitching their camp near the East River. The duty had been mundane and tedious, but then had come the curious order, and the entire army had marched and assembled on the great open Green. It had been over two months ago, on July 9, and it was one of the few times he had actually seen the commander in chief. Washington had ordered the troops to form a hollow square, the first time the men had seen their own strength assembled in one piece of open ground. Even the citizens had come, gathering around