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

In June 1773, King George III journeyed to Portsmouth to inspect the Royal Navy and celebrate Britain’s maritime supremacy. He traversed a countryside teeming with spectators eager to catch a glimpse of their ruler. The Portsmouth naval review was a display of imperial power, with hundreds of naval vessels in formation. Amid cheers from people “delirious with pride” (19), George toured the fleet and basked in the affirmation of national greatness. For four days, he inspected shipyards and ropewalks with technical zeal, personifying his role as steward of empire. Unlike his forebears, George was a “thoroughly English” (21) King. Though sickly in his youth, he was a diligent and pious ruler who served as his own secretary. He was proud of his status as the head of the British Empire and sought to safeguard his realm. A difficult war with France had resulted in vast acquisitions in the Americas for the British Empire. This included “almost two thousand slave plantations growing sugarcane in the West Indies” (24).

Yet beneath the spectacle in Portsmouth lay anxiety. The British Empire, triumphant after the Seven Years’ War, was stretched thin. The cost of war had driven Britain into debt, and the Empire’s rapid expansion raised questions of governance and control. Parliament believed the American colonies should help “shoulder the cost” (25) for their defense, especially since they benefited from British military protection. But successive attempts to impose taxes—the Stamp Act and the Townshend duties—had only incited colonial resistance. Riots, boycotts, and the 1770 Boston Massacre signaled deep unrest. The 1773 Tea Act, designed to rescue the ailing East India Company, allowed it to sell tea directly in America at reduced prices. Though economically advantageous, it enraged colonists, reinforcing the call for “no taxation without representation” (26). Unlike people in other parts of the Empire, the colonial subjects of North America were heavily armed and experienced in combat.

The Boston Tea Party followed, with protestors dumping vast quantities of tea into the harbor. British outrage was swift and severe against the Americans, whom Samuel Johnson denounced as “a race of convicts” (31). Parliament passed the Coercive Acts (or Intolerable Acts), closing Boston’s port, revoking Massachusetts’ self-governance, and allowing royal officials to be tried elsewhere. Though intended to isolate Boston, the crackdown “galvanized American resistance” (33). Solidarity spread from New England to the South, and in September 1774, the First Continental Congress convened in Philadelphia, laying the groundwork for coordinated resistance. George III, meanwhile, hardened in his stance. He rejected petitions for compromise and began preparing for military action, convinced that rebellion must be crushed to preserve the empire. His ministers, wrongly assuming that resistance was confined to a vocal minority in New England, underestimated the resolve and unity of the colonies. In 1775, George III participated in London’s social season with apparent confidence, celebrating Queen Charlotte’s birthday and enjoying theater productions that glorified naval power. Meanwhile, secret plans to “crush the American insurgency once and for all” (36) were already underway. Behind the festive façades, the British government plotted the deployment of troops and warships to enforce submission.

In early 1775, as Parliament reopened after the Christmas recess, the British government faced a mounting crisis over its American colonies. At the heart of the action was Lord North, the sharp-witted prime minister and loyal ally of King George III. Though an amiable and capable administrator, North was said to lack the requisite “despotism and violence of temper” (39). He preferred conciliation to conflict but remained steadfast in executing the King’s will. Despite private doubts and little military acumen, he presented 149 documents to the House of Commons that painted the American colonies as rebellious and lawless. He pressed for decisive measures. The most vocal opposition came from William Pitt, the Earl of Chatham, a revered elder statesman who pleaded for reconciliation. Speaking in the House of Lords, Chatham warned that war with the American colonies would be disastrous and urged Parliament to withdraw British troops from Boston. Though his eloquence was moving, his proposals failed, defeated by wide margins. Meanwhile, in the Commons, the mood hardened. The “corrupt and servile” (40) members derided American militias as cowardly and untrained, predicting an easy British victory. Many MPs were past or current military officers, while North had secured loyalty through patronage, bribery, and political maneuvering.

By February, Parliament had officially declared Massachusetts in rebellion. King George demanded a theatrical show of unity. Hundreds of MPs and peers traveled en masse to St. James’s Palace to present a formal petition, urging him to take “effectual measures” (42) against the insurgents. Plans were quickly enacted to cut off New England’s foreign trade and to restrict its access to lucrative fishing grounds. The army and navy were expanded, and new regiments dispatched to America. Three major generals were appointed to reinforce General Thomas Gage, Britain’s commander in Boston. Though doubts persisted about military readiness and leadership, George remained confident that a single “smart blow” (46) would end the rebellion.

Weapons, powder, and soldiers began streaming out of the Tower of London. Gun shops along the Thames churned out Brown Bess muskets while artillery, mortars, and ammunition were loaded for transatlantic deployment. Meanwhile, officials debated strategy. Some argued that Britain’s navy alone could force the colonies into submission, while others, including senior army officers, warned that conquering America by land was nearly impossible. The army’s strength had waned since the Seven Years’ War, and many officers refused to fight fellow Englishmen. Recruitment lagged, and the government began covert negotiations with German principalities to hire foreign troops. War preparations accelerated under Lord Dartmouth, the colonial secretary and devout evangelical who viewed rebellion as a sin. Britain’s leadership hoped for a quick campaign that would bring clarity after a decade of unrest. Supplies and troops flooded the ports. Regiments crowded Cork, waiting for favorable winds. Many within Britain feared the cost of victory, yet the King remained determined.

The conflict that followed—later known as the American Revolution—would stretch over eight years, involve more than 1,300 engagements, and claim tens of thousands of lives. Against all odds, the colonies would succeed. Their revolution was unlike any 18th-century war: not a dynastic conflict, but a civil war between “two peoples of a common heritage” (46) but with divergent values. The price for Britain would be staggering: £128 million spent, thousands of soldiers lost, and the collapse of an empire’s most promising dominion. The triumph of the American republic, with its Enlightenment ideals and democratic aspirations, would reshape global history.

In March 1775, Benjamin Franklin departed from Britain. After nearly two decades in London as a colonial agent and “zealous citizen of the empire” (49), Franklin left disillusioned. Once a champion of the Anglo-American bond, he had been vilified for leaking private correspondence and humiliated before the king’s council. Though he continued to seek compromise, his diplomatic efforts collapsed. Franklin realized that British condescension, corruption, and contempt made reconciliation impossible. Boarding the Pennsylvania Packet, he sailed home a changed man: No longer a bridge between empire and colony, he had become a committed revolutionary. He boarded a ship for America, ruminating on his regrets and failed efforts at diplomacy. The “American Prometheus” (52) was going home.