And as nor law nor right was known Since my arrival in this town, To remedy this fatal flaw, I hereby publish martial law. Meanwhile, let all, and every one Who loves his life, forsake his gun; And all the council, by mandamus, Who have been reckoned so infamous, Return unto their habitation, Without or let or molestation.-- Thus graciously the war I wage, As witnesseth my hand,--TOM GAGE. By command of MOTHER CARY, Thomas Flucker, Secretary. _Pennsylvania Journal_, June 28, 1775. The Committee of Safety received intelligence of Gage's plans and ordered out a force of twelve hundred men to take possession of Bunker Hill in Charlestown. At sunset of June 16 this brigade started from Cambridge, under command of Colonel William Prescott, a veteran of the French War. On reaching Bunker Hill, a consultation was held, and it was decided to push on to Breed's Hill, and erect a fortification there. Breed's Hill was reached about midnight, and the work of throwing up intrenchments began at once. THE EVE OF BUNKER HILL [June 16, 1775] 'Twas June on the face of the earth, June with the rose's breath, When life is a gladsome thing, and a distant dream is death; There was gossip of birds in the air, and a lowing of herds by the wood, And a sunset gleam in the sky that the heart of a man holds good; Then the nun-like Twilight came, violet-vestured and still, And the night's first star outshone afar on the eve of Bunker Hill. There rang a cry through the camp, with its word upon rousing word; There was never a faltering foot in the ranks of those that heard;-- Lads from the Hampshire hills, and the rich Connecticut vales, Sons of the old Bay Colony, from its shores and its inland dales; Swiftly they fell in line; no fear could their valor chill; Ah, brave the show as they ranged a-row on the eve of Bunker Hill! Then a deep voice lifted a prayer to the God of the brave and the true, And the heads of the men were bare in the gathering dusk and dew; The heads of a thousand men were bowed as the pleading rose,-- _Smite Thou, Lord, as of old Thou smotest Thy people's foes! Oh, nerve Thy servants' arms to work with a mighty will!_ A hush, and then a loud _Amen!_ on the eve of Bunker Hill! Now they are gone through the night with never a thought of fame, Gone to the field of a fight that shall win them a deathless name; Some shall never again behold the set of the sun, But lie like the Concord slain, and the slain of Lexington, Martyrs to Freedom's cause. Ah, how at their deeds we thrill, The men whose might made strong the height on the eve of Bunker Hill! CLINTON SCOLLARD.