Greene himself, unconsciously but certainly, was preparing himself and his comrades for the impending struggle which already cast its shadow over the outward conditions of peace. Modest, faithful, dignified, undaunted by rebuffs or failure, and as a rule, equable, self-sacrificing, truthful, and honest, he possessed much of that simple grandeur of character which characterized George H. Thomas and Robert E. Lee, of the American conflict, 1861–5. His patriotism, as he announced his propositions to the officers assembled before Cambridge, was like that of Patrick Henry, of Virginia, who shortly after made this personal declaration: “Landmarks and boundaries are thrown down; distinctions between Virginians, Pennsylvanians, New Yorkers, and New Englanders are no more;” adding, “I am not a Virginian, but an American.”
By the middle of June, and before the Battle of Bunker Hill (Breed’s Hill), the Colonies were substantially united for war. During the previous month of March, Richard Henry Lee had introduced for adoption by the second Virginia Convention, a resolution that “the Colony be immediately put in a state of defence,” and advocated the immediate reorganization, arming, and discipline of the militia.
A hush of eager expectancy and an almost breathless waiting for some mysterious summons to real battle, seemed to pervade both north and south alike, when a glow in the east indicated the signal waited for, and even prayed for. The very winds of heaven seemed to bear the sound and flame of the first conflict in arms. In six days it reached Maryland. Intermediate Colonies, in turn, had responded to the summons, “To arms.” Greene’s Kentish Guards started for Boston, at the next break of day. The citizens of Rhode Island caught his inspiration, took possession of more than forty British cannon, and asserted their right and purpose to control all Colonial stores.
New York organized a Committee of Public Safety,—first of a hundred, and then of a thousand,—of her representative men, as a solid guaranty of her ardent sympathy with the opening struggle, declaring that “all the horrors of civil war could not enforce her submission to the acts of the British crown.” The Custom-house and the City Hall were seized by the patriots. Arming and drilling were immediate; and even by candle-light and until late hours, every night, impassioned groups of boys, as well as men, rehearsed to eager listeners the story of the first blood shed at Concord and Lexington; and strong men exchanged vows of companionship in arms, whatever might betide. Lawyers and ministers, doctors and teachers, merchants and artisans, laborers and seamen, mingled together as one in spirit and one in action. An “Association for the defence of Colonial Rights” was formed, and on the twenty-second of May the Colonial Assembly was succeeded by a Provincial Congress, and the new order of government went into full effect.
In New Jersey, the people, no less prompt, practical, and earnest, seized one hundred thousand dollars belonging to the Provincial treasury, and devoted it to raising troops for defending the liberties of the people.
The news reached Philadelphia on the twenty-fourth of April, and there, also, was no rest, until action took emphatic form. Prominent men, as in New York, eagerly tendered service and accepted command, so that on the first day of May the Pennsylvania Assembly made an appropriation of money to raise troops. Benjamin Franklin, but just returned from England, was made chairman of a Committee of Safety, and the whole city was aroused in hearty support of the common cause. The very Tory families which afterwards ministered to General Howe’s wants, and flattered Benedict Arnold by their courtesies, did not venture to stem the patriotic sentiment of the hour.
Virginia caught the flying spark. No flint was needed to fire the waiting tinder there. Lord Dunmore had already sent the powder of the Colony on board a vessel in the harbor. Patrick Henry quickly gathered the militia in force, to board the vessel and seize the powder. By way of compromise, the powder was paid for, but Henry was denounced as a “traitor.” The excitement was not abated, but intensified by this action, until Lord Dunmore, terrified, and powerless to stem the surging wave of patriotic passion, took refuge upon the man-of-war Fowey, then in the York river.
The Governor of North Carolina, as early as April, had quarrelled with the people of that Colony, in his effort to prevent the organization of a Provincial Congress. But so soon as the news was received from Boston of the opening struggle, the Congress assembled. Detached meetings were everywhere held in its support, and from all sides one sentiment was voiced, and this was its utterance: “The cause of Boston is the cause of all. Our destinies are indissolubly connected with those of our eastern fellow-citizens. We must either submit to the impositions which an unprincipled and unrepresented Parliament may impose, or support our brethren who have been doomed to sustain the first shock of Parliamentary power; which, if successful there, will ultimately overwhelm all, in one common calamity.” Conformable to these principles, a Convention assembled at Charlotte, Mecklenburg County, on the twentieth of May, 1775, and unanimously adopted the Instrument, ever since known as The Mecklenburg Declaration of Independence.
In South Carolina, on the twenty-first day of April, a secret committee of the people, appointed for the purpose, forcibly entered the Colonial magazine and carried away eight hundred stands of arms and two hundred cutlasses. Thomas Corbett, a member of this committee, secured and opened a royal package just from England, containing orders to governors of each of the southern Colonies to “seize all arms and powder.” These were forwarded to the Continental Congress. Another despatch, dated at “Palace of Whitehall, December 23d,” stated that “seven regiments were in readiness to proceed to the southern Colonies; first to North Carolina, thence to Virginia, or South Carolina, as circumstances should point out.” These intercepted orders contained an “Act of Parliament, forbidding the exportation of arms to the Colonies,” and stimulated the zeal of the patriots to secure all within their reach. Twenty days later, the tidings from the north reached Charleston, adding fuel to the flame of the previous outbreak.
At Savannah, Ga., six members of the “Council of Safety” broke open the public magazine, before receipt of news from the north, seized the public powder and bore it away for further use. Governor Wright addressed a letter to General Gage at Boston, asking for troops, “to awe the people.” This was intercepted, and through a counterfeit signature General Gage was advised, “that the people were coming to some order, and there would be no occasion for sending troops.”