Our First Martyred American Spy

Long before the days of the CIA and Cold War, even before the spies of the Civil War, our nation had a network of spies that rivaled any spy agency of today. The leader of this spy ring, the Culpeper Ring in New York City, was Benjamin Tallmadge, an officer in the Continental Army. One reason Tallmadge may have been so driven to create this spy ring is because his best friend from college, Nathan Hale, was hung as a spy on his first intelligence gathering mission in New York.

Nathan Hale was born in Connecticut in 1755. Before his fourteenth birthday, he and his brother, Enoch, were sent to Yale University to get an education. Nathan's father was a minister and planned for Nathan to follow in his footsteps.

At Yale, Nathan became close friends with Benjamin Tallmadge and William Hull, a man who worked with Tallmadge. Hale's university days created in him a desire to be free from the rule of the British Crown as it did with most of his contemporaries. When he graduated, instead of becoming a minister, he took a job teaching at a private school in East Haddam.

When war broke out, Hale was reluctant to join the army, but at the urging of Tallmadge in a letter, joined up in 1775. For the next year, he saw no action. It disturbed him because he felt he was doing nothing to further the independence of the American Colonies.

In September, Washington was desperate for intelligence about the British troop movements in Manhattan. That information would determine his next move. He asked for volunteers. At that time, most didn't consider spying a respectable occupation, and nobody was willing to volunteer for such a dangerous mission. Nathan Hale, who was eager to do something to help his country, stepped up and said he would do it.

Hale snuck into Manhattan and got the information he needed. Before heading back, he stopped at a tavern where he was recognized by Robert Rogers, commander of Rogers' Rangers. Earlier, Rogers had attempted to get free passage behind enemy lines, telling Washington he was a patriot. His real intentions were to spy for the British. Washington denied his request, but during that time, he had seen Hale in uniform.

Rogers needed proof Hale was a spy and invited him to his home where he informed Hale that he was a patriot. Hale fell into the trap, and was arrested. After admitting he was a spy, he was sentenced to hang by General William Howe.

When Hale was at the gallows, the last sight he probably saw was New York City burning. A fire had started accidently, but knowing it would help the Americans, many patriot civilians started more fires or did things to slow the British in putting out the fires. Many of these patriots were captured and executed. The fire did stop the British from taking up residence in the city.

Hale's last words were immortalized as the sentiment of American Patriots. "I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country." This quote is reported by Tallmadge and Hull, Hale's friends who were not present at the execution. The quote is probably a condensed quote of what he really said. Hull and Tallmadge were at the site shortly after the execution to facilitate a prisoner exchange and talked to a British officer, John Montresor about what Hale's last words were. Others reported other things Hale may have said, so his speech was longer than the reported quote.

Frederick MacKensie, a British officer, wrote this diary entry for the day, "He behaved with great composure and resolution, saying he thought it the duty of every good Officer, to obey any orders given him by his Commander-in-Chief; and desired the Spectators to be at all times prepared to meet death in whatever shape it might appear."

Whatever the case, at his death, Hale was a patriot and the first American spy executed for his exploits of bravery.

The Tender Romance of Henry and Lucy Knox

It was a typical morning at breakfast that June 29, 1776. Lucy was relaxing with her husband, American General Henry Knox, in a beautiful mansion overlooking New York Harbor. The palatial building served as the Continental Army’s base of operations.

What should have been an ordinary morning meal shared between the couple, however, took a drastic turn.

Terror seized Lucy as she looked down through the second-story window and saw the British fleet filling up the harbor. The Colonial city was under attack and gunfire from the American forces to alert the residents erupted everywhere.

In David McCullough’s 1776, he quotes a letter written by Henry Knox to his brother William about that frightening morning:

“You can scarcely conceive of the distress and anxiety which (Lucy) then had. The city in an uproar, the alarm guns firing, the troops repairing to their posts, and everything in the height of bustle. I not at liberty to attend her, as my country cries loudest.”

According to McCullough, Henry Knox had been trying to get Lucy to leave the city with their infant daughter for several weeks. Henry sensed the impending danger and now, seeing the reality of thousands of enemy troops in New York, the general despaired that she had not done so before.

“My God, may I never experience the like feelings again! They were too much, but I found a way to disguise them, for I scolded like a fury at her for not having gone before.”

Lucy and their baby did successfully escape, along with Martha Washington and Caty Greene (wife of General Nathanael Greene) and her infant. Once he knew his wife was safely in Connecticut, Henry Knox wrote to her expressing his relief, as well as declaring his great love for her. Henry also shared his concerns for their future.

“We are fighting for our country, for posterity perhaps. On the success of this campaign the happiness or misery of millions may depend.”

Two days after the British landed on Staten Island, New York, the Continental Congress signed the Declaration of Independence in Philadelphia. It was the fourth of July, 1776.

On July 8, 1776, Henry wrote to Lucy that 10,000 Redcoats occupied the island across the harbor. That number would increase to 32,000 British troops by the middle of August. They were poised to attack the 7,000 American troops under General Washington in New York City.

Henry knew after the arrival of the enemy troops that the situation was not going to get any safer for his wife, Lucy, to rejoin him. He told her, despite the actions of other officers’ wives, that she should stay where it was safe: 

“The greatest happiness for me (is) to be with you, but to be under a continual uneasiness on account of your safety is what you would not wish.”

He informed her of how close in distance the enemy was and, were she to come, she would not have time to gather herself and her carriage to escape if the Redcoats approached. He imagined the terror for his wife and young daughter at such a risky venture. “The reality would kill me,” he wrote.

He ends his missive to Lucy with the most tender of words: 

“Write me, my love, as often as lays in your power and believe me to have no other earthly love but you. Kiss and bless your babe for me.”

These words from her husband are heartrending as the young wife must be separated from Henry for extended periods of time. After the victory at Trenton in December of 1776, Henry writes again to his wife:

“It grieves me exceedingly that I still date my letters from this place and that I am so far distant from the dearest object of my affections. This War with all its variety is not able to banish your much lov’d Idea from my heart. Whatever I am employ’d about still you are with me…as soon as the sacred calls of his Country will permit, (I) will return with the permission of heaven and enjoy all the blessings of conjugal affection.”

These touching love letters are even more soul-stirring when one realizes that Lucy Flucker Knox had separated herself from her own family for the cause of Liberty. Her parents were Loyalists and when the Tories abandoned Boston, her parents fled without so much as a goodbye.

Nancy Rubin Stuart, author of Defiant Brides, tenderly describes Lucy Knox as a woman who longed for family and hoped to fill the Knox home with numerous children. In their marriage of 32 years, Lucy gave birth to a total of thirteen children, yet only three survived to adulthood.

With their less-than-trim figures, Lucy and Henry would likely not be the couple chosen for the cover of a historical romance. But their ardor for each other would fill the pages of any novel with a depth of commitment forged through love and war—a romance of the most passionate kind.

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