buted to
incendiary efforts to deprive them of agreeable winter quarters. Hale was
at first locked up in the Beekman greenhouse. Whether he remained there
all night is not known, and the place of his execution has been disputed;
but the best evidence seems to be that it took place on the farm of
Colonel Rutger, on the west side, in the orchard in the vicinity of the
present East Broadway and Market Street, and that he was hanged to the
limb of an apple-tree.

It was a lovely Sunday morning, before the break of day, that he was
marched to the place of execution, September 22d. While awaiting the
necessary preparations, a courteous young officer permitted him to sit in
his tent. He asked for the presence of a chaplain; the request was
refused. He asked for a Bible; it was denied. But at the solicitation of
the young officer he was furnished with writing materials, and wrote
briefly to his mother, his sister, and his betrothed. When the infamous
Cunningham, to whom Howe had delivered him, read what was written, he was
furious at the noble and dauntless spirit shown, and with foul oaths tore
the letters into shreds, saying afterwards "that the rebels should never
know that they had a man who could die with such firmness." As Hale stood
upon the fatal ladder, Cunningham taunted him, and tauntingly demanded
his "last dying speech and confession." The hero did not heed the words
of the brute, but, looking calmly upon the spectators, said in a clear
voice, "I only regret that I have but one life to lose for my country."
And the ladder was snatched from under him.

My friends, we are not honoring today a lad who appears for a moment in a
heroic light, but one of the most worthy of the citizens of Connecticut,
who has by his lofty character long honored her, wherever patriotism is
not a mere name, and where Christian manhood is respected. We have had
many heroes, many youths of promise, and men of note, whose names are our
only great and enduring riches; but no one of them all better
illustrated, short as was his career, the virtues we desire for all our
sons. We have long delayed this tribute to his character and his deeds,
but in spite of our neglect his fame has grown year by year, as war and
politics have taught us what is really admirable in a human being; and we
are now sure that we are not erecting a monument to an ephemeral
reputation. It is fit that it should stand here, one of the chief
distinctions of our splendid Cap