On the night of June 16th a thousand men armed with pick and spade stole out of the American camp. At dawn the startled British found that a redoubt had sprung up in the night on Breed's Hill (henceforward Bunker Hill) in Charlestown. Boston was endangered, and the rebels must be dislodged. About half-past two 2,500 British regulars marched silently and in perfect order up the hill, expecting to drive out the "rustics" at the first charge. Colonel Prescott, the commanding American officer, waited till the regulars were within ten rods. "Fire!" A sheet of flame burst from the redoubt. The front ranks of the British melted away, and His Majesty's invincibles retreated in confusion to the foot of the hill. Again they advance. Again that terrible fire. Again they waver and fall back. Once more the plucky fellows form for the charge, this time with bayonets alone. When they are within twenty yards, the muskets behind the earthworks send forth one deadly discharge, and then are silent. The ammunition is exhausted. The British swarm into the redoubt. The Continentals reluctantly retire, Prescott among the last, his coat rent by bayonets. Joseph Warren, of Boston, the idol of Massachusetts, was shot while leaving the redoubt. The British killed and wounded amounted to 1,054--157 of them being officers; the American loss was nearly 500. The battle put an end to further offensive movements by Gage. It was a virtual victory for the untrained farmer troops, and all America took courage. [Illustration: Map of Boston, the Mystic river on the North, the Charles river on the South.] Plan of Bunker Hill. [Illustration: Drawing of Boston harbor.] A. Boston Battery. B. Charlestown. C. British troops attacking. D. Provincial lines. Bunker Hill Battle. From a Contemporary Print. Two days before, Congress had chosen George Washington commander-in-chief, and on July 2d he arrived at Cambridge. Washington was forty-three years old. Over six feet in height, and well-proportioned, he combined great dignity with ease. His early life as surveyor in a wild country had developed in him marvellous powers of endurance. His experience in the French and Indian War had given him considerable military knowledge. But his best title to the high honor now thrust upon him lay in his wonderful self-control, sound judgment, lofty patriotism, and sublime courage, which were to carry him, calm and unflinching, through perplexities and discouragements that would have overwhelmed a smaller or a meaner man.