YaleUniyersitifLibrafy 39002008078991 Cb22 99 '.cut i) NATHAl^ HALE, A POEM, DELIVERED BEFORE t lihimiti %ssQt\Kfnn COLUMBIA COLLEGE, OCTOBER 37, 1858. JOHN MAC MULLEN, A.M. NEW YORK: JOHN F. TRO^V^ PRINTER, 377 & 379 BROADWAY, COKNEB OF AVHITE STEEET. 1858. m c\ % Mil I^ATHAl^ HALE, A POEM, DELIVERED BEFORE OF COLUMBIA COLLEGE, OCTOBER 27, 18-58. BY JOHN MAC MULLEN, A. M. NEW YOEK : JOHN F. TROW, PRINTER, 377 & 379 BROADWAY, CORNEK OF WHITE STREET. 1858. NATHAN HALE: A POEM, DELIVERED BEFORE THE OCTOBER 27, 1858. BY JOHN MAC MULLEN, A.M. Come all Alumni gather round ; I tell of courage high ; Of Nathan Hale, a college lo.oj, One not afraid to die. His father a stout yeoman was ; In Coventry his birth ; And never shone the golden sun On one of loftier worth. 'Twas leafy June when he was born ; Dame Earth was in her best, When his mother smiled, and the grave Deacon His little boy caressed. They little thought that he, so small And tender, lying there. Was of hero-mould ; had a head to plan, And a heart could boldly dare. He sported 'neath the maple-leaf. And the oak-tree's sturdy bough, TiU his limbs grew long, and his bones grew strong ; And few could him follow. To ride, to shoot, to speak the truth. To wrestle, jump, and cHmb, Such was the life his frame to knit, His courage to sublime. They thought to make him a man of Grod, And the viUage pastor, he Taught him the tongues of Greece and Eome With their deeds of chivalry. How Brutus the consul stern adjudged His traitor sons to death : How Curtius leaped in the yawning gulf That closed ere they drew their breath : How Decius stood on the blood-stained spear. And doomed himself to die ; And how the Fabii fought and fell. That house so great an4 high. He read of Thermopylae — sainted name — And of proud Plattea's day. And of him so prompt his Thebes to serve In the highest or humblest way. 0 ! heroes of old, so true and bold, Undying and sacred band ! How many ye've taught who have valiantly fought For Freedom and Fatherland ! Your spirit has breathed from the pages read In every CoUege hall, TUl their upturned thrones have crashed the bones Of oppressors proud and taU. And never a nobler youth hath read. In these chronicles of old. Of the steadfast men who honor loved Far more than life or gold. His fine eye flashed, and his red cheek glowed, And his head was lifted high, As he dreamed that he, in a noble cause, Full gallantly might die. He little thought that a few short years Should see him calmly stand. With an eye undimmed and a cheek unblenched In the midst of a hostUe band : And that never bold Eoman or gaUant Greek, In their proudest days, could say More heroic words than his youthful lips Gave forth on their dying day. When he entered the halls of Mother Yale, And trod beneath her elm, He seemed some heaven-sent Mercury, With winged feet and helm ; For he was tall, well knit, and strong ; No goodUer youth was seen : And in after years men proudly showed His leap on the College Green. Many a maiden turned agaia His graceful form to scan. Where nature featly had conjoined All that deUghts in man. The sparkling eye, the noble brow. The bearing frank and free, The pleasant wit, the genial smUe, The inborn courtesy. The priests of old from out their herds The goodliest always chose ; Upon fair Freedom's altar he Was ofiered even as those ; And of all the glorious martyrs bold That for mankind have died, None more unflinchingly stood up In the bloom of manly pride. To earn Hs bread Uke an honest man, When his college days were o'er. He took his seat at the teacher's desk And taught what he learned before. The path of knowledge stiU he smoothed. And strewed it o'er with flowers ; And all have said that 'neath his rule Swift fled the happy hours. 'Twas thus two years in peace had passed, TUl war was on the gale. The yeomen saw the gath'ring cloud, But were not men to quail. It burst at last on Lexington : It burst in bloody rain : And through the land the cry rang out, " Our brethren have been slain ! " This war-cry to New London came, Where Hale sat in his school. Then straightway rose the hero up ; Left copy-book and rule. " I've passed among you pleasant days : But those pleasant days are o'er. My country calls ; I leave my books, And gird me up for war." 8 Lieutenant by Connecticut, By Congress Captain made. He girt fast to his slender waist His bloodless battle-blade. New London his first station was ; But soon the eastern camp. Before beleaguered Boston, heard His and his comrades' tramp. No carpet-knights were these young men ; Their station was in front. Of sorties from the penned-up foe They often bore the brunt. To Putnam's tent he often went ; Spencer and Sullivan, Lord Stirling, Greene, all loved him weU As officer and man. When, Fabius-like, our Washington, By firm and wise delay. Had forced our hireling enemies From Boston and her bay. To our city here he quickly marched. To face them once again : For they had come with bristling fleet Across the briny main. The Asia, sixty-four gun ship, In our East Eiver lay. A sloop was anchored 'neath her guns, To us a wished-for prey ; For she was fuU of army stores, WhUe our men were in want ; But she was girt with dangers round. That stout hearts weU might daunt. Cool heads and ready hands must be With those would cut her out ; Yet Hale soon found in those around Stout arms and hearts as stout. They choose a light and handy boat. And muffle well each oar, Then wait the friendly veU of night To reach the further shore. " 'Tis dark enough now, men, and we Are far enough above ; Silent and steady make your strokes Our weU-manned barge to shove. The moon goes down at midnight ; we Must hug the other side Untu we reach the opposing point, And there in patience bide." 10 All patiently they sit and watch The moon go down the sky ; And can, from far, the Asia's masts, And frowning huU descry. A single gun from that dark hull Could sweep them all to death ; But calm they eye her as she Ues, And wait their leader's breath. The moon has touched the horizon's edge ; And now her silver Ught Gently withdraws and leaves them aU Involved in deepest night. " This rising wind wiU serve' our turn ; The tide is strongest now ; Quiet and quick the watchword is ; We'll board her on the bow." The Asia's watch, from her high deck, Can nothing hear or see. Save rushing wind or swashing wave To windward or to lee ; But the Ught bark speeds bravely on, UntU they dimly spy The topmost rigging of the sloop Ag9,inst the darkening sky. 11 They reach her bow, make fast, and then, Like leaping panthers, spring ; SUent and swift they make their way ; With hands and feet they cling. The drowsy watch they gag and bind ; Then pass them all below ; Clap on the hatch ; the cable cut ; And with the tide they go. Then slowly, quietly, they hoist Some sail for steerage way. Hale takes the helm ; and steady steers, Hoping the dawn of day. It comes at last, that longed-for light, From God's own blessed hand. It gilds the sky ; it gilds the stream ; And gilds the wished-for strand. " Hurrah, we're safe ; the prize is won ; Now up with every saU ; And let her cleave the foaming waves, Before the favoring gale. We've blankets for our needy men, And shoes to fence their feet. And joyously, upon the wharves. Our coming soon they'U greet." 12 The wharves are crowded ; thronging round They eye the distant sail ; And many a hope, and many a fear. Weighs down the alternate scale ; But, as she nearer comes, their hopes Their many fears o'erwhelm. They see, they know those on her deck, And Hale is at the helm. — " Hurrah for Hale." — Each manly throat Rings out its heartfelt joy. " Ha, ha ! John BuU but little thought We'd thus his stores employ." She nears the wharf ; down drop the saUs ; The sloop is quickly moored ; Hale makes report ; his men march ofl" ; There floats the prize secured. But soon, alas, our Hale grew sick. And, as he lay along. The British landed at Gravesend, Ten thousand muskets strong. Out there, upon Long Island's plains, The hireUng Hessians stood. With the ranks of England's red-coat slaves That shed our brethren's blood. 13 They turned our flank upon the left, And gaUant Sullivan, 'Twixt Clinton and De Heister's fire. Lost many a daring man. Discomfited and sad of heart, Within their Unes they lay ; Till Washington across the stream Safe drew them all away. God sent to him a favoring wind. And kindly shrouding fog, That baffled Clinton's best bloodhounds : His steps they could not dog. But our great leader's mighty heart With anguish deep was rent, To think how many a freeman's head Low down in death had bent. Stirling and Sullivan were ta'en ; Sore sick the gallant Greene ; And many a once famiUar face Was nowhere to be seen. There lay the foe across the stream. But he'd no way to learn What force they had, or how disposed. That he might their blows return. 14 He callfed a councU, and 'twas fixed That some superior man Must spy them out, and make report. And all their works must plan. To Colonel Knowlton 'twas assigned To find the man they sought ; He called his officers around. And earnest with them wrought. But each one, silent, hung his head. Or turned him cold away. To be a spy, though sore the need. That part they could not play. Hale had come late to councU, and Was pale from his sick bed. But when he saw them aU draw back He Ufted up his head. " I'll undertake it," calm and clear. From his young lips outbroke : But all the council crowded round. And each against it spoke. For he was loved by all the corps. Both officers and men. They sorrowed o'er him sick, and joyed To see his face again. 15 " Nay Hale, it cannot, must not be. An officer a spy ! And if discovered, from a tree Hung like a thief to die ! Let some one from the ranks go out. Or some camp follower keen. Your epaulettes, for aU our sakes. You should not thus demean." — " Hold, comrades, hold. — Your words are vain. I thank you for your love ; But there are higher, holier thoughts. Such earthly thoughts above. We are not here on gay parade. Our epaulettes to show. We fight for freedom, undismayed. Against a powerful foe. " Our General asks it. Would he ask Dishonoring deed or wrong .? No ! and his voice my country's is. For her my heart is strong To dare a felon's death, or aught May help her at her need. If we draw back how can we pray Our God her cause to speed ? 16 " Whate'er she needs as glorious is. For me, as loftiest plume That ever decked the warrior's meed. Where guns and swords make room. So good-bye, comrades ; if I fall. Some one wUl take my place ; And, soon or late, in peace or war. Each man must end his race." So spake this youthful heart and bold, This patriot pure and high ; Nor did his manly deeds his words. In any point, belie. To head-quarters he was ordered, they Were then at Murray HiU, That he might clear instructions get, And learn his General's wiU. Long time talked they together there. Two noblest among men ; But never, on this earth of ours. From that time met again. One died in honored age, and one In his youthful bloom was slain. With a heart as pure, and a soul as high. As e'er felt joy or pain. 17 Hale took the guise of schoolmaster. Wandering in search of work, 'Neath plain brown clothes and broad-brimmed hat His purposes must lurk. He crossed the Sound at Norwalk, When all was still and dark. And safely trod on hostile ground Ere rising of the lark. Through EngUsh, Hessians, Waldeckers, He passed in safety on, Striving their numbers all to note. And all their works to con. From Brooklyn he crossed over here. And passed along our streets ; Though every soldier was his foe. Yet aU he calmly meets. A single instant could bring him To gibbet and to rope ;• But, in College Latin, still he notes All that's within his scope. At length, the information gained. Placed safe within his shoe. He crossed again to Brooklyn, And from their lines withdrew. 18 'Twas early morn when on the shore, At Huntington, he stood. He waited but the appointed boat To bear him o'er the fiood. 'Twas close by Jesse Fleet's. The leaves Were fluttering on the trees ; The rippling waves, in changing curves. Obeyed the wandering breeze. His task was done ; the risk was run ; His knowledge all secure. He'd but to cross the Sound again. And all would then be sure. A boat comes round the point. — 'Tis she,- The bark to bear him o'er. He stands to wait, in careless ease, Her progress to the shore. —Too late ! too late ! he sees his fault. — The British uniform Is in the boat ; and near must float Some ship where foes thick swarm. He turns too late ! the sheltering trees He never more may gain. " Stand or you die ! "—He yields perforce, - And in the boat is ta'en. 19 How bitter ! oh how bitter to The young and sanguine heart ! When the cup is dashed to earth that he Eaised up with Ups apart. But Hale his sadly sinking heart Has force enough to hide. A patient prisoner calm he meets Whatever may betide. They reach the ship, the Halifax, And, when on deck they stand, The lounging idlers crowd around To see who's come from land. Quick from the crowd a renegade Cries out " 'Tis Nathan Hale ! — A rebel dog — I know him well." Hale turned a moment pale. The shadow of his coming fate Fell on him as he stood ; And, for a single instant, it Congealed his youthful 'blood. But no fell fate a brave man daunts. And soon his manly pride Fired his full eye, and flushed his cheek. And spread his nostrUs wide. 20 As if he scorned the traitor's blood. That fought against his land, And raised, midst hosts of hireUng swords, His parricidal brand. This traitor his own cousin was ; A wretch, who kindred ties And patriot hopes, our hoUest thoughts. Could both alike despise. The Captain lent unwUling ear To charges such as these, Against a youth of form and face Each manly heart to please. But when, within Hale's shoe, were found The plans and notes he'd ta'en, He sent him to the city here with lU-dissembled pain. At two o'clock, on that same morn. The demon fire had waked The sleepers from their pleasant dreams, And they with terror quaked. . For the roaring flames came leaping on From Whitehall up each street, House after house devouring, till Our CoUege Green they meet. 21 There stayed their waves. The changing wind Their biUows backward swept. But five hundred homes were desolate, And many a woman wept. Such the sad scene that met Hale's eyes. As from the boat he came, — The clanging beUs, the roUing smoke, And the far flasHng flame. But close they guarded him, and led, To where, on Murray HiU, Sir WUUam Howe's head-quarters were. In Beekman' s mansion still. Its owner a true patriot was. And to .^sopus fled. They seized his house, and rang his haUs To the hated Briton's tread. In the garden stood a greenhouse, and They brought the captive there. The place was shorn of aU its flowers. The tUed floor was bare. Bound, but undaunted, waiting doom, The youthful Captain stood. Whate'er he felt, his manly front Betrayed no changing mood. 22 Sir WUliam Howe sat there to judge, With officers beside. Their captive clad in plain homespun. And they in all their pride : Yet that young man so plain arrayed. In history's page shall live. When their gewgaws and titles all No lingering gleam shaU give. Short was his trial, sharp his doom — At daybreak he must die. And now's led forth to hold secure TiU dawning tints the sky. Close guarded to his prison ceU, The doors upon him close. And he is left to think all night. Or seek disturbed repose. Our CoUege then a prison was. And it may be that Hale Was placed within its strong stone walls, With many a prisoner pale. Yes ! in those haUs where we've oft read Of the heroes true of old, This youthful hero slept, perhaps, Before his death-kneU toUed. 23 Old College ! thou art gone, — and those Sweet memories of youth That clustered fondly round thee ; Young friendship's bright-eyed truth ; The genial hours we all have spent Beneath those grand old trees. That rose, Uke towers, from out the earth. Huge palaces of leaves ; That pleasant green that heard so oft Youth's light and ringing laugh. Ere we went on life's pilgrimage, With sober scrip and staff ; Those lecture-rooms, where smothered jokes With learning we inwove ; Those chambers underground, where wits In tUt and tourney strove ; The many spots more sacred made By memories of the dead. Those who untimely left our sides To seek their lowly beds ; — Are gone ! all gone .! and what is more. The very earth's removed, Where trod the springing footsteps oft Of those we knew and loved. 24 Oh ! had it not been better, still To leave, midst mammon's waste. That one green spot, those strong old waUs, Where patriot prisoners paced ! I speak not of our private griefs. But, in this age of ours. We hurry on with heedless hand To pluck both fruit and flowers. Not thinking of those men of old Who shivered and who bled. That we might all go warmly clothed. And with the best be fed. Had our old College, the Provost, The Sugar House been kept, Where crowded patriots moaned, grew sick. And then in silence slept : No place more holy could have been Than where they used to pine, And no more touching monument Could architect divine. Amidst our city's wealth and pride They should have sacred been, As shrines where patriot pilgrims still Some holy thoughts might glean. 25 Thus Hale must have thought, in his lonely cell. Of the martyrs bright of old. The long, long line that have shed their blood More precious far than gold. They that have striven to raise our race From aU that's low and vile. And borne, unshrinking, chains and death, Eough rope or blazing pUe. But tenderer thoughts came throbbing through His warm and youthful heart. Of home and friends, and her, from whom 'Twas death indeed to part. How oft he'd watched her graceful form On household cares intent ! How oft beside the spinning wheel As, to and fro, she went ! And, when the wars were over, she Had promised him to wed ; Now, — he must die a felon's death, And sleep in lonely bed. He asked a Bible. — 'Twas refused. He sought a man of God, — But Cunningham his jaUer was ; More brutal never trod. 26 With coarse, loud laugh he answered him. With oath, and gibe, and jeer, Ev'n when he asked for paper, but To write to those most dear. A young lieutenant of the guard Could not this sight endure. But, ere he left, saw paper given To Hale in hand secure. Thus he sate down to write that night His farewell words to those, So near, so dear, now dearer still Since Ufe was at its close. His sisters one, his parents one. His brothers, now afar. Fair Alice one, — her lovely eyes Those Unes will sadly mar. His task is done, the light is gone — He sits there in the dark. And tears will course adown his cheeks. Since none are by to mark. But one and twenty summers had Strewn flowers along his path. Respect, affection, friendship, love. Yes ! all this bright life hath. 27 'Twas hard to leave them. Hard to die, From every friend away, A felon's death, midst flouting foes, Who'd mock his senseless clay ; — But soon his mind took loftier tone. As he thought of duty done ; And felt that the love of earth's best men With his li£e he'd nobly won. He knew his comrades would feel sad. His friends forget him not ; But he wondered if, in after years. The same would be his lot ; If we should win our freedom, and Men histories should indite, If they, in them, on any page, His youthful name would write : If the students of our coUeges Would ever hear that one, A son of Yale, in Columbia slept. To die with the rising sun. Yes ! Hale ! across the gulf of years, I'm standing here to-night To teU them how you died for us. And left this pleasant light. 28 Here, in the mightiest city that This broad, broad land can claim, I'm telling old Columbia's sons Of you and of your fame. God grant some hearts here in this throng With the sacred fire may bum That lit your steps on glory's path That gilds your funeral urn ! Let them not wait occasion grand, But fill the present need. As high your fame, a spy who died. As theirs that in battle bleed. Let them Columbia's honored name With added fame increase. And take their place midst that bright throng The patriots of peace. But see ! the first gray streaks of dawn Come stealing o'er the sky ; Hale leaves his restless couch that he May dress himself to die. They come, — ^he meets them with calm face, And walks with firmest tread ; Upright his graceful, manly form, Uplifted is his head. 29 'Twas on a Sunday morning thus They led him forth to die. Saddening the quiet ofthe streets With their death melody ; But midst their flashing ranks The pinioned prisoner paced Proudly, as he a conqueror were. And they his triumph graced. In Chambers Street they halted ; and The brutal Cunningham, With negro Dick, his hangman foul, Their cursed work began. There was a graveyard to the north, And from a branching tree The fatal noose hangs ready That's to set his spirit free. Now, from his vest, young Hale takes out The letters that he wrote. To Cunningham he hands them there. Who must their contents note. But see ! he tears them up, and flings Their fragments on the ground. " The cursed rebels ne'er shall know ¦ Such man's among them found." 30 'Twas a bitter pang that thrUled through Hale, When he those fragments saw ; But higher stUl did he lift his head. And his curling lip up draw. With cool contempt he gazed on him. As turned the brute about. And jeering caUed for his dying speech — 'Twas then those words broke out : " My sole regret is that I've but One life our land to give." The furious brute laid hands on him. That be might not longer live. 'Tis done ! — His manly form now swings Between the earth and heaven. The tender ties that bound him here Thus rudely all are riven. We know not where they buried him. Belike beneath the tree ; But patriot memories cluster there, Where'er the spot may be. 31 Yes ! youthful martyr ! all our isle To us more sacred's made. Since on her breast thy manly form In death's deep sleep was laid. And stUl when comes September, The month that saw thy death. And the forest leaves begin to change Beneath the frost-king's breath. In cottage and in College hall. Throughout our wide-spread land. Let each faithful heart recall thy part Amidst the patriot band. Yes ! aU our youths that manUest are. And con the historic page. Shall feel in turn thy patriot fire To honor still their age. Young maids, at twUight musing, sigh, Soft-murmuring, and look grave. As memory whispers them of one So handsome and so brave. 3 9002 00807 8991