The British Are Coming: The War for America, Lexington to Princeton, 1775-1777

At the beginning of The British Are Coming, George Washington is introduced as a man shaped by both social ambition and prior military service. Atkinson presents him as a Virginian of substantial physical presence and social standing, with an established public identity grounded in his service during the Seven Years’ War. Citing firsthand accounts of his arrival in the Cambridge Camp, Atkinson details Washington as “truly noble and majestic, being tall and well-proportioned” (151), as though he is already aesthetically suited to the role of American Revolutionary leader, even if he has not yet demonstrated the skill needed for such a role. Like many of the American military leaders, Washington earned his reputation during the Seven Years’ War. Fighting for Britain against France, George Washington is a product of British imperialism. He has successfully fought on Britain’s behalf and even shares his name with King George III, who will eventually become his military rival. He had fought under British command and gained a reputation for bravery and endurance, though his experience also left him critical of British arrogance and tactical rigidity. Atkinson emphasizes Washington’s wealth as a Virginia planter whose vast tracts of land housed 135 enslaved laborers, creating the sense that Washington has a personal, material investment in the cause for which he is fighting—a cause that Atkinson notes was often bound up with the interests of enslavers. He may have earned a reputation fighting for the crown in the Seven Years’ War, but the Revolutionary War gives Washington a chance to define himself on a broader, more personal stage.

As the war progresses, Atkinson begins to frame Washington as a figure of growing mythic status, whose image begins to transcend the ordinary challenges of leadership. Washington is described as intensely aware of the symbolic weight he carried, so much so that his arrival in the camp is said to have breathed “the spirit of conquest [through] the whole army” (154). Yet Washington’s authoritative presence is not enough to win immediately. Much like the cause for which he is fighting, Washington is still in a fledgling state. He must be urged to listen to his lieutenants, whose caution “saved him from himself” (296) by preventing him from launching an ambitious yet doomed strike against the British. Tellingly, Washington’s failures mirror American failures. Bunker Hill, for example, is a military loss yet it is also heralded as a triumph. Washington, like America itself, is on a steep learning curve against the world’s mightiest empire. As such, his bearing and conduct on the battlefield, combined with his unwavering presence in the face of adversity, helped cultivate an aura of inevitability and greatness. Atkinson recounts that some soldiers called him “his Excellency” and regarded him with a kind of reverent awe (594). The narrative does not reduce Washington to mere hagiography, yet it consistently returns to the idea that Washington was becoming a living symbol of the American cause, someone whose discipline and stoicism would help define the character of the rebellion itself. Failures become triumphs in retrospect as they contribute to the Washington myth.

After the dramatic events of the Delaware crossing, Atkinson portrays Washington as a military leader whose stature has become firmly established. These campaigns, executed in the harsh winter of 1776-1777, serve as a climax to Washington’s early war narrative. Atkinson writes that after the Princeton victory, even the enemy had to concede that Washington was a “very good rebel” (639). Washington rode into Morristown triumphant, a general whose calculated risks had paid off and who now commanded the renewed admiration of his army and the broader public. Any earlier grumblings about him being replaced had completely disappeared. The men who followed him had seen both his endurance and tactical daring. In their eyes, he was the unshakable center of the revolutionary cause. Yet at the end of the book, the war is not yet won, and Washington faces many of the same challenges. He writes to Congress, begging for money and men. The difference now, however, is that Washington has a reputation needed to lead the cause, so much so that “his faith gave others faith; his strength made others strong” (669). Through trial and error, he has become the living avatar of revolutionary zeal.

In The British Are Coming, General Charles Lee emerges as one of the more charismatic and eccentric figures among the American commanders. A former British officer turned revolutionary, Lee brought a wealth of professional military experience and a flamboyant personality to the Continental cause. Atkinson describes him as “a brusque, vivid eccentric” (165), who is tall, disheveled, and quick-witted, often traveling with a pack of dogs and dressing with disregard for decorum. Despite his unconventional habits, Lee’s strategic mind and battlefield experience earned him early respect. He is “deeply imprinted him with European orthodoxy” (165), which makes him well suited to the early days of the Revolution as he is fighting against men who were formerly his comrades in arms. Importantly, Lee was seen by some as a potential rival to George Washington and briefly held considerable influence among officers and politicians who admired his aggressive instincts and strong opinions on military matters. As such, Washington’s series of failures and retreats are juxtaposed against the promise and charisma of Lee. Through Atkinson’s narrative framing, Lee emerges as the potential replacement for the head of the American forces should Washington fail again. Lee is more than just an American commander; he is the constant reminder to Washington that he is replaceable.

However, Lee’s fortunes shift dramatically due to a combination of overconfidence and poor judgment. Atkinson recounts that Lee, while commanding a detached force in New Jersey in December 1776, delayed rejoining Washington and instead took quarters far from his troops. The “scorched-earth swagger” that made Lee such a vital and compelling figure earlier in the conflict gradually becomes a threat to Washington’s tactical planning (405). By this time, Lee’s “increasingly erratic, bickering behavior had grown nettlesome” (590). The breakdown in communication and the chaos of the situation led to Lee’s capture by British dragoons in Basking Ridge, an event that not only embarrassed the Continental Army but also tarnished Lee’s reputation. His arrogance and disdain for Washington, once private, became a liability, especially after his return from captivity under suspicion of having offered intelligence to the British. By the end of the book, Lee is no longer seen as a credible alternative to Washington, but rather as a cautionary figure defined by his failure to match ambition with discipline. He serves as a useful narrative counterpoint to Washington, illustrating the peril Washington faces and good judgment and luck that help him avoid it.