e House, they gave no comfort to Thomas Gage,
commander-in-chief of his majesty's forces in the Colonies. He was
chagrined over the outcome of the battle, the losses sustained. His
own officers were criticising the plan of attack. The soldiers said he
had slaughtered their comrades. The people were condemning him for
having burned Charlestown. He was conscious that he had gone down in
the estimation of those who had given him loyal support. He knew that
his military reputation had suffered an eclipse. Women were denouncing
him as cruel and inhuman. The conviction came to General Gage that he
was shut up in Boston, and that any attempt upon the position of the
rebels at that point, or upon the hills beyond Charlestown, would
result in disaster.

It was cheering news to Tom Brandon and all the soldiers of the
provincial army, a few days later, to learn that Congress, sitting in
Philadelphia, had selected George Washington of Virginia to command
them. His coming was evidence that all the Colonies had united to
resist the aggressions of the king. He fought bravely to drive the
French from the valley of the Ohio, and saved the army in the battle
near Fort Du Quesne. General Gage had been with him in that
engagement, but now they would command opposing armies.

It was a beautiful summer morning, the 3d of July, when the regiments
in Cambridge and some of the troops from Roxbury assembled on the
Common at Cambridge to receive General Washington. Tom Brandon saw a
tall, broad-shouldered man, sitting erect on a white horse, wearing a
blue uniform trimmed with buff, accompanied by General Putnam, General
Ward, and a large number of officers, ride out from General Ward's
headquarters and take position under a great elm-tree.

"Attention, the army!" shouted General Ward.

The officers repeated it, and every soldier stood erect.

"Salute your commander, Major-General George Washington!"

[Illustration: Where Washington assumed Command.]

The soldiers presented arms, the fifes began to play, the drums to
rattle. General Washington lifted his hat, bowed right and left, drew
his sword from its scabbard, and rode along the line. The soldiers saw
dignity, decision, and energy, yet calmness, in all his movements.
They knew he had a great plantation on the bank of the Potomac River
in Virginia; that he could live at ease and enjoy life in hunting and
fishing at his own pleasure, but he had left all at the call of
Congress to take c