The Lost Lieutenant
Among the thrilling incidents connected with the war of the
Revolution, when our country, in her infancy, struggled to throw
off the yoke of English despotism, and raise the standard of
Liberty; none, perhaps, is more laden with interest than the one
which clusters around the stranger's grave on Sandy Hook.
Haliburton's grave is there - surrounded with the solitude of
waters, and the ocean's undying roar. Little did this noble youth
of Scotland believe when he bade adieu to his native Highlands,
that he would find a rude grave on that sandy tongue of land over
lashed by the restless waves of the broad Atlantic: but it was
so.
Hamilton D. Haliburton was one of the highly favored of earth;
fortune smiled upon his birth. He was of a noble, high-born, family
in Scotland; heir to the princely estate of the Earl of Morton.
Although he had seen twenty summers only, yet upon him was the
ripeness of early manhood - rich in intellect, manly in beauty,
noble in person, and generous in sympathies; in a word, he was
young, intelligent, generous, brave - everything the world is apt
to like in a young man. Yet he was ambitious, a manly, generous
fault - if fault it was. The distinctions of his birth, and the
honors of an Earldom, were not enough; he sighed for more: even
distinctions and honors that would be world-wide; hence his wish
for a Lieutenancy, and loftier stations in the dauntless Navy of
his mother country; it was, that amid the perils of the great deep,
and at the mouth of the booming, deadly cannon, he might gather
fame of noble deeds - greater fame for space in the world's
thought, and dominion over his fellow men.
OK the proof that you have been to the cache is email me with
the answer of who is buried with him and what rank he held and how
many members of his crew died there.