How the British could have won the American War for Independence.
Growing up in America, I learned the world began in 1492 when Columbus sailed the ocean blue. Then the first settlers colonized America at Jamestown in 1607. In 1763, Britain began unfairly taxing American colonies after winning the French and Indian War, and in 1776, America declared its independence from the evil and tyrannical British. America won easily, for we wore brown camouflaged shirts and fought from behind trees with rifles while the stupid British stood in straight lines, wore red jackets, and pointed their muskets vaguely at the enemy hoping their foes would politely stand in the way and get killed.
Now, almost every aspect of the popular perception of the American War for Independence is wrong. While the rebellious colonists occasionally fought in a ranger-like fashion, they often met the British in open battle, and by the war’s end the British light infantry and their Hessian Jaeger auxiliaries were every bit as good at guerilla warfare as the colonists, if not better. Tallying up all the battles fought between British regulars and colonists during the war, the British outright win more than half of them, and in most American victories the militia outnumber the British more than two-to-one.
Clearly, this is not a case of overwhelmed, outnumbered, plucky rifleman heroically evading British musket volleys and bayonet charges to snipe from concealed positions. In fact, it is often the outnumbered British who overcome great odds to defeat the disorganized, poorly-trained, and over-confident colonists with discipline, skill, and courage. Viewing the American War of Independence from the British point of view, it feels very much like the Vietnam War, a technologically advanced and well-trained force overwhelmed in a distant, foreign land by a numerically superior and supremely motivated militia foe. And much like the United States in Vietnam, the British lost.
But did they have to lose? Was defeat truly inevitable, or could a change in strategy, tactics, or policy have resulted in the United States remaining part of the British Empire forever?
To answer this question, we must first define what British victory means. Today we shall consider the British victorious if all 13 rebellious colonies remain part of the British Empire, either as subjugated colonies or in some form of larger imperial federation. Obtaining home rule or independent government ruled in personal union with King George III as a shared monarch doesn’t count. After all, Queen Elizabeth II is technically the monarch of Canada, Australia, and New Zealand, but nobody would reasonably call those nations part of the British Empire anymore.
We also will not discuss nebulous ideas of overarching policy. British colonial policy was unfocused and vacillating, swinging from overly lenient to threatening and repressive depending on who was in charge and whether they had drunk their tea yet. To defeat a rebellion, one must offer a mix of carrots and sticks – be brutal on the battlefield and gentle in victory. The rebels must be made to wonder why they are risking their necks, suffering bad weather, worse food, and exhausting duty for the privilege of a brutal death in battle, when they could surrender and return to their homes little the worse off. The British had a bad habit of being tepid in both areas, allowing easily isolated rebel forces to escape and punishing the civilian population just enough to anger them without doing enough to cow them. Had British policy throughout the war been more balanced, the rebellious colonies might have slowly and tepidly slunk back into the imperial fold. However, that is not the purpose of this essay.
Nor shall we discuss the survival or death of specific persons, weather conditions, or other acts beyond human control. True, had Benedict Arnold happened to die in the snowstorm assault on Quebec in December 1775, Clinton’s invasion may have reached Albany in 1776, but I hate to leave the fate of nations to chance. Here, we shall discuss specific decisions made by individuals which, had they chosen a different path, may have led to a British victory.
With that said, here are the 5 most likely ways I think the British could have won the War for American Independence.
1: General Howe Captures Washington at Long Island
Yeah, yeah, you all knew this one was coming.
On August 27, 1776, General Lord William Howe inflicted upon the Continental Army arguably its worst defeat, killing, wounding, and capturing over one thousand Continentals on the Guian Heights. General George Washington rushed reinforcements across the East River from Manhattan, but was unable to prevent the retreat to the fortified Brooklyn Heights. Having driven the Americans into a corner and confident of victory, Howe halted the attack and dug siege lines, preparing to force the trapped rebels into surrender. However, over the night of the 29th and 30th, assisted by a dense fog and a friendly wind which kept British ships out of the East River, Washington extracted his army from Long Island to Manhattan, leaving Howe confusedly contemplating empty fortifications in the morning.
It is the near-unanimous verdict of history that had Howe continued his attack on August 27th, he would have utterly routed the ten thousand Americans on Long Island, leaving Washington with nine thousand effectives on Manhattan. Depending on the timing of the attack, Howe might have captured Washington himself, and I cannot imagine the rebellion would have survived without him. The man was a walking morale boost, a respectable face for the rebel army, and he could extract an army from Hell before the devil noticed it was missing. He knew the United States needed to keep an army in the field more than it needed to win battles, and he was uniquely capable at keeping that army in the field.
Even if Howe missed his fox on the 27th, he had another chance to catch Washington. Washington had retreated to Manhattan, which, notably, is another island. The only ways off this island in 1776 were 1) by ship, or 2) over the King’s Bridge at Manhattan’s northern tip. By September, the weather which had so favored Washington’s plans cleared, and the British navy controlled the waterways, limiting Washington’s escape to Kings Bridge. Had Howe landed his army there on September 15, he would have forced Washington’s surrender. Washington had bled militia since August, and commanded only fifteen thousand soldiers spread out across Manhattan. Howe had over twenty-two thousand effectives and controlled the water. One of his subordinates, Henry Clinton, even suggested landing at Kings Bridge.
However, here we see for the first time the British high command’s propensity to act like the cast of Mean Girls rather than a dedicated military organization. Howe and Clinton had bickered earlier, so when Clinton made this eminently agreeable suggestion to completely defeat the rebel army, Howe found an alternative which would deny his subordinate any glory for the victory.
Howe’s solution was a landing at Kip’s Bay, only one third of the way up the island from New York City. At best, this landing would have trapped Washington and half his army, but the landing did not go as hoped, and Washington was able to withdraw his troops to the defensive position on Harlem Heights and then later across Kings Bridge to the mainland, because as said above, Washington could extract an army of dead men from Charon’s boat on the River Styx.
Without Washington, I have no doubt the American cause would have collapsed. Resistance would have continued in the south and New England, but would crumble as the British army advanced. Within a year, maybe two, British garrisons would occupy Philadelphia, Charlestown, and finally Boston. Without Washington to rally around, support for Congress would have faded. Howe could have offered generous peace terms, as was his inclination in real life, and retained a relatively peaceful British North America.
Instead, twice in a month, Howe’s lethargy and unwillingness to accept advice from his subordinates allowed Washington to escape. Howe continued to exhibit both character flaws until his removal from command following Burgoyne’s defeat at Saratoga.
2: General Clinton Gets Off His Ass in Canada
But before we join Gentleman Johnny’s Party Train at Saratoga (thank you Mike Duncan for the vivid imagery), we must first head north to Canada the year before. In 1775, Congress authorized an ill-conceived and poorly-planned invasion of Quebec. Hoping to turn Canada into a 14th colony (one of many potential 14th colonies proposed throughout the war, including Nova Scotia, the Bahamas, and Florida), Congress underestimated the Catholic French Quebecois’s antipathy towards the Protestant New Englanders they had fought near-continuously since 1688. The attack stalled out after a disastrous assault the night of December 31 which resulted in the American commander’s death and the wounding of the infamous Benedict Arnold, at that point an ardent American patriot. The surviving Americans settled into a distant siege of the city, their numbers reduced by desertion, expiring enlistments, dysentery, malaria, and freaking smallpox until only around 500 effective soldiers remained. The British commander, General Guy Carleton, Governor-General of Canada, managed to raise 1,600 troops throughout the siege, outnumbering his besiegers three to one. Yet, he failed to attack his weakened foe, perhaps remembering how the French General Montcalm had perished doing the same thing against British General Wolfe in the French and Indian War 18 years earlier on this spot. This reticence ended on May 2, when Carlton received some 11-12,000 reinforcements under Generals Burgoyne and Von Riedesel. As soon as he could unload his reinforcements, Carleton counterattacked, driving the Americans back. By June 19, the Americans had evacuated Fort St. Johns at the northern end of Lake Champlain, leaving Canada in British hands, their invasion a complete failure.
In the intervening months, Howe landed at Long Island, defeated Washington, and chased the founding father into New Jersey while Carleton stayed at St. Johns. Finally, on October 4th, Carleton sailed down Lake Champlain towards Ticonderoga, Crown Point, and hopefully Lake George and Albany. Carleton would be briefly delayed by Benedict Arnold’s hastily-constructed navy at Valcour Island on October 11 and 13, and they occupied Fort Crown Point on October 17. There Carleton tarried another fortnight before marching on the Americans at Ticonderoga. However, Fort Ticonderoga was strongly held, and the first snows started to fall, prompting Carleton to withdraw to the north shore of Lake Champlain on November 2nd. Baron von Riedesel, the Brunswick-born commander of Canada’s German auxiliaries, bitterly commented, “If we could have begun our expedition four weeks earlier I am satisfied that everything would have been ended this year.”
Reviewing the paltry American defenses, I am inclined to agree. Had Carleton begun his offensive earlier, he almost certainly would have taken Fort Ticonderoga, and starting from Ticonderoga in 1777, Burgoyne could hardly have failed to take Albany. Howe would have found it harder to ignore the sense of a combined strategy on the Hudson, and the colonies would have been divided.
So can we find Von Riedesel his four weeks?
Carleton’s advance from Quebec to Montreal and St Johns is relatively speedy, taking about six weeks in May and June, so not much time can be made up there. That leaves the periods before and after this advance. Let’s start with after.
Much is made of Benedict Arnold’s spirited defense at Valcour Island, but to my eye, Arnold’s fleet only delayed Carleton a few days, a week at most. What delayed Carleton more was Arnold’s decision to burn every boat he couldn’t use at Fort St. Johns. Harsh rapids separated Lake Champlain from the St Lawrence River, so Carleton couldn’t sail ships to the lake. Denied a fleet, Carleton was forced to build a new one, including gunboats to protect his troop-carrying bateaux from the armed American barges he expected to encounter. Carleton remained at St. Johns for nearly three months, from July 19th to October 4th, building his fleet.
Did Carleton truly need this much time? Arnold had much of his fleet finished by mid-August, only lacking powder, shot, cannon, and trained sailors. The British shared none of those problems. They had plenty of six, nine, twelve, eighteen, and twenty-four pounders from the northern forts, and royal navy seamen were available to man their vessels. The gundalow Loyal Convert and two large schooners (the Carleton and Maria) mounting 6, 12, and 14 6-lb guns respectively were dragged intact up to the lake, and the massive, 180-ton, 3-masted, 18-gun twelve-pounder frigate Inflexible was pre-constructed on the St. Lawrence River, broken down, dragged to St Johns, and reassembled within 28 days of arriving. A third schooner, the Royal Savage of 12 guns, was damaged by the Americans at St Johns, but successfully refloated and rearmed. Considering how greatly the British fleet outclassed their opponents even before the construction of the massive floating gun battery Thunderer, (with six 12-lb guns, six 24-lb guns, and two howitzers or mortars) one wonders if Carleton could have launched his attack without waiting to finish every armed ship. The resulting battles certainly seem to bear this hypothesis out, as despite Arnold’s admittedly brilliant leadership and tactics, he was simply out-gunned. The Thunderer, Maria, and Loyal Convert did not even participate in the first battle of Valcour Island, leaving the Inflexible to nearly single-handedly silence the American guns, and two days later Arnold burned his fleet and evacuated his troops to avoid utter destruction. Had he trusted in a smaller fleet, Carleton might have overwhelmed Arnold’s forces and proceeded to Crown Point and Ticonderoga in time to seize both forts before the winter.
More intriguing, though, what if Carleton had attacked the frozen, starving, smallpox-inflicted American camp outside Quebec before May? What if, capitalizing on the American defeat, Carleton had attacked the moment the weather cleared, driving the rebel forces back. Congress reinforced the Canadian garrisons after New Years, but it is uncertain how many soldiers were actually north of Ticonderoga and Crown Point. Had Carleton pushed the rebel militia back to Sorel or even Montreal in January, his May reinforcements would have unloaded far upriver, and Carleton might have seized St Johns with its fleet intact. Without the need to build a new fleet, Carleton could have launched his expedition downriver months earlier, thus securing his victory over Ticonderoga and Crown Point. Heck, Carleton’s army was larger than Burgoyne’s by some 1,500 men. Maybe he could have taken Albany in 1776 and victoriously linked with a contingent of Howe’s army marching north from New York City. In real life, Howe sent Clinton with 6,000 men to take Newport in late 1776. Might Howe not have sent his second-in-command north to link with Carleton instead while Howe himself pursued Washington into New Jersey?
Instead, Carleton tarried, and this opportunity for victory was lost. Even at the time, Carleton’s dallying was criticized. Carleton’s delay in 1776 was a decent portion of the reason behind his replacement by Burgoyne in 1777, leading to the ultimately failed Saratoga campaign, all because the governor-general of Canada could not get off his ass.
3: Howe, Burgoyne, and Carleton Stop Acting like Bitchy Teenagers
On June 14, 1777, General “Gentleman Johnny” Burgoyne launched an invasion of upper New York. His goal was Albany, which would secure the Hudson River from both ends, effectively cutting the rebellious colonies in half. Instead, after taking Crown Point and Ticonderoga, Burgoyne pursued the fleeing American army through dense woodland. The colonial militia gathered in force, surrounded Burgoyne, and forced him to surrender on October 16. This ignominious defeat convinced the French to join the war, leading to the later involvement of the Spanish, the Dutch, and the Kingdom of Mysore in India. Facing this overwhelming array of enemies around the globe, and without allies to distract their enemies, Great Britain fought the world to an exhausted draw, and was forced to give up 13 colonies to the newly-formed United States to stop the war. It is unsurprising that many historians identify this as the moment the British lost the war, but could this have been the turning point towards a British victory? Let’s explore.
First, it does well to examine the differences between Burgoyne’s expedition in 1777 and Carleton’s expedition the year before. First of all, Burgoyne departed St Johns with 7,000 men on June 14, while Carleton moved with 9,000 soldiers on October 4. If Baron von Riedesel had wished for four weeks in 1776, he could not have been disappointed with an additional four months in 1777. The reasons are obvious – Burgoyne had a fleet built for him the year before, and he started from St. Johns, not Quebec. However, the lack of two thousand soldiers compared to his predecessor’s attempt is noticeable. So where did they go?
Well, approximately 750 went on the St. Ledger Expedition, a divisionary attack down the Mohawk valley from Lake Ontario which failed to divert many American troops, nor do much attacking. Carleton had not bothered to divide his forces, but sent the whole kit and kaboodle at Albany in one fell swoop. But still, what happened to the other 1,250? In my research, I’ve not found a satisfying answer, but I suspect that Carleton, Governor-General in Canada, jealously kept as many soldiers under his command as possible, denying Burgoyne any way he could.
This would not be the only time Carleton denied Burgoyne troops. Preceding the invasion, Carleton was supposed to raise 2,000 militia - he raised less than 300. Burgoyne asked Carleton to assemble 1,000 Native Americans - Carleton recruited around 500. Carleton was ordered to provide carts for transportation – Carleton delayed, and only reluctantly gave over hastily knocked-together carts of bad green wood. When Burgoyne took the forts at Ticonderoga and Crown Point, he wrote to Canada asking for garrison troops to hold the forts, but Carleton refused, so Burgoyne left 1,300 behind to hold them. Burgoyne may have denied himself 750 soldiers with the St Ledger expedition, but Carleton prevented 3,500 troops from supporting Burgoyne, which would have increased Burgoyne’s army by fully half again its starting numbers!
But why would Carleton do this? Once again, the Mean Girls nature of the British high command came into play. After retreating in 1776, Carleton fully intended to resume the invasion the next year. However, over the winter, his subordinate Burgoyne sailed to England and campaigned in Parliament for command of the expedition. His pleas fell especially convincingly upon the ears of Lord George Germain, the Secretary of State for Colonial Affairs, who generously gave Burgoyne command of the next year’s invasion. Carleton could not have been happy his former subordinate, a junior general whom Carleton outranked, was given the command Carleton felt should have been his. Even worse, Carleton was ordered to assist this jumped-up junior general by Lord Germain himself! So Carleton decided to obstruct Burgoyne wherever he could.
But why would Lord Germain pick Burgoyne over Carleton to strike down Lake Champlain for the Hudson? Why, because Germain and Carleton were old enemies, of course! During the Seven Years War, at the Battle of Minden, Lord Germain commanded the heavy cavalry. When ordered to charge by his allied commanding officer, Germain refused. His reasons were unknown, but charge he did not, and thus the French army escaped. Germain was removed from command, court-martialed, stripped of his rank, forbidden from rejoining the army, removed from the privy council rolls, and declared unfit to serve the king in any military capacity whatsoever. Had his punishment been any more severe, he would have been executed. And who was a key witness in Germain’s court-martial? That’s right, Guy Carleton, the future Governor-General of Canada. So given a chance to ruin his old rival’s reputation, Lord Germain convinced King George III to appoint Burgoyne to command the expedition.
That’s not to say Burgoyne did not screw up plenty himself. Even with only 7,000 soldiers, Burgoyne had every reason to expect success, but from the first, he bungled away his advantages.
In taking the fortress at Ticonderoga, commonly considered to be impregnable, Burgoyne did realize Sugar Loaf Hill commanded the fort and ordered siege artillery dragged to its top. However, he also allowed his works to be seen, so the 3,000 Americans garrisoning the forts were able to escape. Had Burgoyne erected his batteries on Sugar Loaf with greater deception, he could have commanded the fort, the lake, and the pontoon bridges, preventing any American escape, but instead, Burgoyne’s carelessness let the enemy stream south to form the nucleus of the force which would spell his doom.
Burgoyne then had two choices. He could chase the Americans down to Skenesboro at the southern edge of Lake Champlain, or he could rush down Lake George to Fort George and an easy hop, skip, and jump across a short land bridge to the upper Hudson. Burgoyne chose the former, hoping to catch the American army before they disappeared into the woods. However, after a check at Hubbardton, Burgoyne failed. He still could return to Ticonderoga and take the easy boat ride to Fort George, but instead, he decided to march down the narrow, rough, easily-obstructed forest road.
I cannot emphasize how bad a decision this was.
The Americans felled trees across the road, burned bridges over gorges, and dammed streams to turn the area into a swamp. Burgoyne spent a month struggling through the swampy terrain before reaching Fort Edward, and took several hundred casualties in the running fight. During this time, the rebel militia removed all the provisions Burgoyne needed to supply his army. In August, desperate for food, Burgoyne sent one thousand of his best soldiers to Bennington to find food, where they were surrounded and defeated by two thousand militia. Baron von Riedesel had suggesting gathering provisions, supplies, and horses to mount his dragoons in July, but Burgoyne chose to wait a month until the patriots could remove everything of value, denying Burgoyne supplies and mounted scouts.
And why did Burgoyne take the forest road? It’s almost impossible to imagine, because in preparing for the advance he himself had written how this very road would be easily defended by the rebels if they, for example, felled trees, burned bridges, and dammed streams. However, many conject that Philip Skene, a wealthy loyalist property owner who would benefit from a road built from his land to Albany and in whose house Burgoyne stayed while in Skenesboro, convinced Burgoyne the route would be easily traversed and the road would profit all, including Burgoyne. Thus lured by easy money and easy marching, Burgoyne struck out into the woods.
At this point, one of Burgoyne’s Amerindian allies killed a woman named Jane McCrea. The circumstances of her death were unclear then and mysterious now, but they served as a patriot rallying cry. Burgoyne blamed his native allies for McCrea’s death as well as the failure at Bennington. Frustrated with the general’s pique, the Amerindians left. Had Burgoyne mounted his dragoons at Castleton in July, this might have not been so crippling a blow, but without mounted cavalry or Amerindian scouts, Burgoyne’s army was blind.
At this point, the end was nearly confirmed. Burgoyne made a valiant showing, but his force dwindled due to starvation, desertion, and combat casualties. The British numbered between five and six thousand men, while the American force swelled to over fifteen thousand by Burgoyne’s surrender on October 16. Had Burgoyne conducted his campaign with greater intelligence, boating down Lake George, mounting his dragoons, and keeping his Amerindian allies, he might have reached Albany, but instead, he allowed himself to be blinded, starved, and surrounded after choosing the most difficult road possible.
Yet even at this late hour, Burgoyne might have been saved. He was not surrounded until October 13. As late as September 19, he conducted spirited offenses. Realizing his position was dire, on September 21 Burgoyne sent a letter to New York City to activate his contingency plan – a secondary invasion north up the Hudson to catch the Americans between two armies. Had Howe been around with sufficient forces to do this, the campaign might have been saved.
But Howe was not in New York City. He was 95 miles away, in Philadelphia, with the majority of his troops. His second in command, Clinton, remained behind with 7,000 soldiers. It was enough to hold the city, but not enough to venture forth and rescue Burgoyne. Despite an attempt to do so with 3,000 troops in early October, they could not penetrate far enough north to draw off the Americans, and Burgoyne was forced to surrender.
But why did Howe go south? Howe was well aware of Burgoyne’s intentions. Ticonderoga fell July 5, and Howe did not sail for Philadelphia until July 23. Heck, he wrote to Burgoyne on July 17 that he intended to take Philadelphia, and if Washington went north, Howe would soon catch him! More oddly, Howe did not land in the Delaware River estuary, an easy boat ride of slightly over a week from New York (Howe’s ships were sighted off the Delaware Capes June 30, and could have landed a few days later). He could have landed in the mouth of the Delaware, then marched quickly overland to Philadelphia. Instead, Howe sailed all the way to the Chesapeake, delaying his landing until August 26!
This is intolerable. Had Washington been a skilled general, he could have marched north to assist in Burgoyne’s defeat, then returned south to face Howe with reinforcements from upper New York. This move might have cost the British the entire war in 1777, and only Washington’s tactical mediocrity saved them! Heck, had Howe struck north with the first robin, he could have linked hands with Burgoyne, then returned to New York City in time to sail for Philadelphia, accomplishing both objectives in one year! So why did Howe delay, then sail south?
Well, play the Mean Girls soundtrack again, because it looks to me like Howe and Burgoyne were playing personal politics again.
When Burgoyne received the commission to attack from Canada, he also received credit for the plan. Had Howe struck north in support of his subordinate, he expected Burgoyne would receive all the accolades for victory. If, on the other hand, Howe took Philadelphia, the rebel capital, Howe would receive the glory. Howe waited just long enough to learn Burgoyne had taken Ticonderoga and thus could be assumed to win before setting sail on a long, isolating journey. One explanation for Howe’s choice to land on the Chesapeake is his wish to avoid any news which would draw him towards Albany. I’ve read other explanations for Howe’s movements, but none ring as true to me as Howe’s desire to steal the glory himself.
But should not Howe have been ordered to support Burgoyne? Howe may have been C-of-C in North America, but Lord Germaine was in charge of running the war. He approved all the plans offered by his officers before they were put into action. He controlled the disposition of troops. So if Germaine supported Burgoyne, how could Howe have gone to attack Philadelphia?
Simple. Lord Germaine approved both plans.
He APPROVED BOTH PLANS!
God FUCKING damn it! You’re fighting a fucking war! Stop playing politics and WIN, you dumb fucks! No one will get ANY glory from this fight, because you all fail to work together and so you get NOTHING! YOU LOSE! GOOD DAY, SIRS!
*ahem*
It is truly astonishing how petty and jealous the British commanders were during the American War for Independence. Howe could have attacked up the Hudson to support Burgoyne and still had time to conquer Philadelphia had he not coveted Burgoyne’s glory. The attack from Canada might have succeeded regardless had Carleton swallowed his pride and supported Burgoyne, or had Germaine let bygones be bygones and given Carleton command instead. The year before, Howe might have won had he listened to his subordinate Clinton. But no. The British commanders succumbed to petty squabbling, too concerned with their own self-aggrandizement to bother with anything so simple as winning the God-damned war.
This is the last realistic opportunity the British had to win the American War for Independence. After Burgoyne’s surrender at Saratoga, the war expanded beyond the 13 colonies. Britain was overstretched. Any concentration of British force meant uncovering another location, which the enemy alliance could exploit. For example, the British fleet which relieved the Great Siege of Gibraltar had blockaded a French fleet in Brest. That French fleet then sailed across the Atlantic to besiege Cornwallis at Yorktown, ending the war for North America. This particular failure may have been avoided, but only by sacrificing Gibraltar. Every choice after 1777 is like this. The British Empire is going to be reduced – the only question is by how much? I might say that Britain could more easily recover Gibraltar in the Napoleonic Wars than they would the 13 colonies, but there are so many what ifs associated with that line of thinking that it is hardly worth pursuing. Alone, opposed by the French, Spanish, Dutch, Mysoreans, and their own rebellious colonies, Great Britain had no chance of winning that war. Britain needed allies, but none were forthcoming, only enemies angry at the last century of defeats at British hands. It would have taken an outbreak of a major European conflict like the 7 Years War or the War of Austrian Succession to drive a major European power like Prussia, Austria, or Russia into an alliance with Britain against the Franco-Spanish-Dutch alliance, but that’s simply unreasonable. Laughable, even! Right, guys?
Guys?
4: The American War for Independence merges with the War of Bavarian Succession
On the 30th of December, 1777, Duke Maximilian III Joseph, Elector of Bavaria, died of smallpox, leaving no children to succeed him and no established heir. His closest male relative, Charles IV Theodore, Margrave of Bergan Op Zoom and Count Palatine of Sulzbach, Elector of Palatine, was set to inherit Bavaria as well, but he had no legitimate children either (as his many bastards could not inherit his titles). Thus his cousin, Charles II August, Duke of Zweibrucken, had a claim to the throne as heir presumptive (a heir presumptive is the current 2nd in line to the throne, but liable to be displaced if the current ruler has a legitimate child). Charles Theodore had little interest in ruling Bavaria. He was more interested in gaining a royal title rather than acquiring another ducal realm. Recognizing this, the Austrians pounced.
Holy Roman Emperor Joseph II, archduke of Austria, desperately wanted Bavaria. It was nearby, it was wealthy, and it was German, unlike the mess of Hungarians, Slovaks, Czechs, Ukrainians, Poles, Croatians, Italians, and many, many others who inhabited his realm. Annexing Bavaria would extend Austrian influence into southern Germany, and hopefully establish Austrian hegemony over the fractious polity of the Holy Roman Empire. In exchange for southern Bavaria, Emperor Joseph II offered Charles Theodore land in the Austrian Netherlands (modern Belgium) which they did not particularly care for. Belgium was far away, intractably independent, and French and Flemish, not German.
Charles Theodore agreed.
After all, one ducal realm was much like another. Charles August protested, wishing to inherit Bavaria whole, and Frederick the Great, King of Prussia, agreed. Prussia wished to reduce Austria’s influence in Germany, and so on July 3rd, 1778, Prussia and their Saxon allies went to war with Austria. Very little fighting occurred, although some 20,000-30,000 soldiers died of starvation, exposure, and disease, giving this war it’s nicknames of Kartoffelkrieg or Zwetschgenrummel (potato war or plum fuss). Austrian and Prussian armies stared at each other in Bohemia and Silesia until Catherine the Great of Russia threatened to send 50,000 soldiers to support Prussia if the war continued, and so a treaty was signed May 13, 1779.
So why the hell am I droning on about some forgotten, battle-less war between central European powers which lasted less than a year? Isn’t this essay about how the British could have won the American Revolution?
Yes, and shut up.
After 1777, Britain had no chance of winning their war unless it found some allies. The War of the Bavarian Succession potentially has those allies! Britain and Prussia still had an alliance from the 7 Years War, and France was allied with Austria. There was every possibility that, through France, Britain could have been drawn into the Bavarian war and turned it into 7 Years War 2: Gunpowder Boogaloo.
In reality, the French foreign minister skillfully kept France from joining Austria’s war, choosing to focus on kicking the crap out of Britain, and Prussia did not need British help since Russia was right there and very obliging.
But what if France had been drawn into the war? The French King might have wanted as much revenge on Prussia as on Britain, as they had been enemies in the last war. And Britain might have been the instigator. Britain declared war on the Dutch in December 1780, despite having plenty of enemies to go around between the French, Spanish, and their own rebellious colonists, so what if they had jumped the gun and declared war on Austria in 1778 in a calculated move to spread the war around?
The possible futures for this war are wild. One could write nearly any outcome. France would not have been able to devote so many soldiers to the 13 colonies, the Caribbean, and West Africa if they had been forced to fend off a Russo-Prussian invasion from the east. Portugal might have gotten involved, or any number of other nations. The French economy may have collapsed and kickstarted the French Revolution a decade early, likely pulling France out of the war and pre-empting Napoleon’s rise, since young Bonaparte was still in school in 1778. I still think it’s a long shot that the British would have kept their colonies, but the possibility did exist, and I would be remis if I did not mention it here.
5: Parliament Removes their Heads from their Asses and Gives the Colonies what they Want.
Thus far we’ve discussed how the British could have defeated their rebellious colonies in battle, but by far the most possible, and most likely to last, method of winning the American War of Independence would have been to prevent it happening in the first place. And how could that have happened? Simple. Give the colonists what they wanted.
It is a common misperception that the 13 colonies were fighting for independence from the word go. That was not true. The colonists were rioting and rebelling in order to protect their British rights! “No Taxation Without Representation” was not a slogan for independence, but a call for Parliament to give the colonies representation in Parliament!
There are many forms this representation could have taken. It could be small, thirteen seats in the Commons, a few Lords with colonial holdings, or even some form of devolved responsibility, like the situation with Scotland and Wales today. Scotland had a small number of “Representative Lords” and several commons added to the English Parliament to form the British Parliament in 1701 after the Union. In 1775, there was a subordinate Irish Parliament which reported up to the British Parliament – why not add an American Parliament with a similar arrangement? Heck, Britain could have easily acted similar to the Spanish with regards to their lowland possessions. Prior to the 80 Years War, Spain would set revenue targets and leave it to the Dutch to determine how they would collect the money. Britain could have done much the same with their American colonies. All of the colonies had local elected assemblies. Parliament could have informed the local assemblies how much they needed from each colony, and letting those elected assemblies provide the taxes however they pleased.
Nor is adding a colony to the mother country a crazy idea, impossible for the time. In 1789, just 14 years later, colonial representatives from Saint-Dominique travelled to France to participate in the National Assembly. They voted on laws and edicts which affected the entire First French Republic. It was later overthrown by a massive slave rebellion after Napoleon tried to re-enslave Saint-Dominique, but the basic idea was plausible. Portugal and Brazil were briefly united after Napoleon’s defeat, until the Portuguese decided to reduce Brazil back to a simple colony, sparking Brazil’s war of independence. The idea of a transoceanic superstate built from a motherland and its grown-up colonies existed at the time, but the greed and myopia of the Europeans prevented that from happening. If Parliament had been as open-minded towards the 13 colonies as they had been towards Scotland, they might have kept the colonies.
So would colonial representation have prevented the American War for Independence from breaking out? Maybe, but I doubt it. The American Patriots were led by wealthy landowners, slavers, and merchants who realized they could get a better deal running their own nation than by remaining part of Britain, and it’s never wise to bet against greed. However, colonial representation probably would have weakened the Patriot cause.
The rebellious colonists had three primary advantages going into their war against Britain. The rebels had local support and knowledge, they had ready-made allies in the form of Britain’s historical European enemies, and they were fighting for a comprehendible and inspiring cause. Britain’s enemies would always be waiting in the wings, but the local support and knowledge could have been shared by loyalists, and colonial representation in Parliament could have given those loyalists a cause to rally behind.
Although I believe much of the colonist’s rhetoric about British tyranny to be rank propaganda (It was the colonists who were scalding men alive with hot tar, burning customs ships, and destroying the houses of their political enemies if not bought off with beer, after all), the call of independence from tyranny has a historical ring to it. The educated men could draw on the examples of Greeks fighting Persians, or Romans throwing off their kings to become a republic.
The British Loyalists had no similar cause. Those colonists who declared for the king were fighting for, what, exactly? The right to remain a colonial subject of a faraway king? Is that really worth dying for at the hands of an enraged tax-dodger? Better to offer tacit support to the British regulars who would come marching in to save them.
But what if the British had offered their loyalists something more to fight for? If the cry was not “liberty vs loyalty,” but “Independence vs Representation,” that might have been something more inspiring. Had Parliament offered some form of representation or home-rule in, say, 1768, the majority of people would have likely calmed down. The Patriots call for freedom from repression would have less force if the colonies elected members to Parliament. Why fight for “freedom” that we already have? The rebel cause already nearly extinguished itself several times, as shown above, and only British bumbling and hostile policy kept the fires of rebellion alight. But had Britain offered a carrot along with the stick, plenty more committed loyalists would have joined up to fight, and I doubt the rebels would have been able to overwhelm the support for union with Britain.
6: The Brave New World
So what would our world look like without the USA? Well, that’s hard to say. I’d personally imagine that eventually, there would be some form of Imperial Federation, where an Imperial Parliament in Westminster composed of delegates from all over the empire decided things like foreign policy and military matters while local assemblies governed local affairs, kind of like the idea for the US congress presiding over the state assemblies, but multiplied by the size of the British Empire. Maybe eventually, when technology improved sufficiently, they might form a more unitary government the way France has absorbed her overseas departments into the Metropole. Or the empire might break up, the way the British Empire did, into a series of nominally aligned commonwealths, but essentially dissolved. I could make some other predictions about the abolition of slavery sparking a second civil war in 1836, or about an enlarged Britain’s participation in the Great War, but eventually, I’d just be writing a fantasy story.
Still, it’s not a story entirely without merit. The American War of Independence was a tough, close affair, and as I’ve shown here, the course of US liberty was not nearly as inevitable as your history book might have taught.