Emerging Revolutionary War welcomes back guest historian Bjorn Bruckshaw

By the spring of 1776, the people of Rhode Island no longer needed to speculate about their relationship with Great Britain—they were already living in open resistance to it. War had begun the previous year, British naval power remained a constant threat along the coast, and the colony’s long history of defiance toward imperial authority had already brought confrontation to its shores. The destruction of His Majesty’s schooner Gaspee in 1772 had marked a decisive escalation, transforming protest into direct action against the Crown.¹ Now, as members of the Rhode Island General Assembly made their way to Providence in early May 1776, they did so with the reality of war firmly in mind. The question before them was no longer whether they opposed British authority, but whether that authority could continue to exist at all within their government.

Inside the Assembly chamber on May 4, 1776, that question was answered with clarity and finality. Without issuing a sweeping declaration or engaging in extended philosophical argument, the legislature passed an act that removed King George III from every function of governance within the colony. The law ordered that “in all commissions, writs, and other proceedings in the courts of law,” the name and authority of the king be omitted.² In their place stood the authority of the colony itself. The act further directed that royal authority was to be “totally suppressed.”³ Courts would continue to function, but under a new source of legitimacy. Officials would take new oaths. The government would proceed without reference to the Crown. Rhode Island did not simply declare independence—it enacted it.

This action did not emerge suddenly. For years, Rhode Island had been among the most resistant of the colonies to British imperial control, particularly in matters of trade and enforcement. British officials repeatedly complained of the colony’s defiance, noting the difficulty of imposing authority in a place where regulations were often ignored.⁴ That resistance became unmistakable with the Gaspee affair, and the Crown’s response—threatening to transport suspects to England for trial—provoked widespread alarm. Colonial critics warned that such measures would undermine “that great bulwark of English liberty,” the right to trial by a local jury.⁵ By the time hostilities began in 1775, many Rhode Islanders had already concluded that reconciliation with Britain was increasingly unlikely.

That understanding was reflected not only in legislative action, but in the colonial press. The Providence Gazette soon reported the Assembly’s proceedings, noting that the legislature had taken measures removing the authority of the Crown from government functions, a step consistent with the colony’s wartime posture and political condition.⁶ While not framed in celebratory or rhetorical language, the report treated the change as a matter of governance already in motion. Similarly, the Newport Mercury, writing amid growing military uncertainty, reflected a broader shift in tone, reporting colonial affairs in a way that assumed the imperial relationship was breaking down beyond repair.⁷

These accounts are significant not because they proclaim Rhode Island’s primacy, but because they demonstrate how independence was understood in real time—not as a single dramatic declaration, but as a series of actions already unfolding.