Intelligence, in those days, travelled slowly. On the 17th of June, 1775, the world-renowned battle of Bunker Hill was fought. But no rumor of the conflict had reached Philadelphia when Washington left for Cambridge, three days later. Washington was accompanied by Generals Lee and Schuyler, and a brilliant escort of Philadelphia troops. They had advanced but about twenty miles from the city, when they caught sight, in the distance, of a courier advancing, spurring his horse to his utmost speed. He brought despatches of the battle. Washington inquired, with almost breathless anxiety, into all the particulars. When told that the Americans stood their ground bravely, reserved their fire till they could take deliberate aim, and did not retreat until all their ammunition was expended, he exclaimed, with deep emotion, “The liberties of our country are safe.” We need not here enter into the details of this battle, as it was one in which Washington took no part. A general description of the wonderful event is however needful, that the reader may comprehend the transactions which soon ensued, resulting from it. The American troops were kept together only by a general feeling of indignation against their oppressors. None of them were acquainted with the discipline of European armies. Most of them were without any uniform, or any soldierly accoutrements. The farmers and their boys had left the plough in the furrow, caught up the musket or the fowling-piece with the powder-horn, and, in their coarse, homespun clothes, without food, and with but the slightest supply of ammunition, had rushed to the field, to combat the veteran soldiers of Great Britain, under leaders who had already obtained renown in many a hard-fought battle. There was a ridge of quite commanding heights, in the rear of the village of Charlestown, which overlooked the town and the shipping. Two of the most prominent of these eminences were called Bunker’s Hill and Breed’s Hill. A council of war decided to seize and occupy those heights. It was necessary that the enterprise should be undertaken with the utmost secrecy and caution; for the British men-of-war could open upon the works a deadly cannonade. It was Friday night, the 16th of June. Just before sunset, about twelve hundred American soldiers, were assembled on Charlestown Common. None but the officers were aware of the expedition which was to be undertaken. President Langdon, of Harvard College, offered prayers. In the fading twilight they commenced their silent march. Though five of the British ships-of-war were anchored, so as to bear, with their broadsides, upon the peninsula. The troops, in the darkness, and with careful tread, crossed the isthmus unseen.