Colin Ross, "Unser Amerika", Chapter 21

 21.

From Rebellion to Revolution

In order to understand the nature and course of the American War of Independence, one must not lose sight of the fact that it was not really a war, but a revolution, not so different from those which we ourselves had witnessed and still witness. Men who today are regarded as brilliant patriots and paragons of American youth appeared at that time as a kind of evil Bolsheviks, not only in the eyes of the English, but even of those Americans of standing and property who, though they did not wish to be taxed by England, looked with the highest displeasure on people who preached that one should not pay one's debts and should plunder the possessions of the rich. That in the troubled times that preceded the outbreak of hostilities and even in the first years of the Revolution among the rebels the number of those who had nothing to lose was greater than that of the propertied, who were more exposed to the vengeance of the British authorities, is only too understandable. One did not want to be taxed, one did not want to be forced to buy one's sugar and tea in London but where one could get it cheapest, one wanted to sell one's products where one got the highest price. They didn't want to let the English parliament interfere with their business, they wanted to be independent - although the idea of America had not yet been born and at most they thought of the independence of the individual colonies. - But fighting for all that, sacrificing property and blood for it, that was another matter.

In addition, the American colonies were not yet in a position to fight. At the beginning there was neither a revolutionary army, nor a leadership, nor even a common idea for which one could have been enthusiastic. The individual states had militias that had fought in the Indian and French wars and had considerable experience in bush and forest warfare. In the open field, however, they were no match for a standing army like the British. Moreover, few were available, since the militia were called up only on a case-by-case basis. The so-called "minutemen" who exchanged the first shots with the British soldiers were armed farmers, not much more than freemen who ran together to disperse just as quickly. Of them, too, only a portion were determined revolutionaries. Many who had been present at Lexington and Concord, and who were later hailed as heroes of the Revolution, were anxious to conceal their participation in it immediately after the clash with British troops. The first three engagements, Lexington, Concord, and Bunker Hill, were as many defeats for the revolutionaries. The British were by no means repulsed, but retreated to Boston in accordance with orders, having held their commission. Bunker Hill was stormed by the British. But as few expected the rebels to dare fire at all, the temporary resistance they offered was trumpeted as a great victory over the whole country. To what small extent the rebels felt themselves to be revolutionaries is illuminated by the one fact that Captain John Parker, the leader of the forty "minutemen" who exchanged the first shots with the advancing British, fiercely affirmed after the engagement that he had not fired at all.

It was just revolution, revolution in its very beginnings. There was still a lack of any unified organization and leadership. No one really knew who was standing where and which side the neighbor was taking. If the English had been more energetic and ruthless, they could have nipped the revolution in the bud. However, it would probably have risen again several years or decades later, in a stronger form and better prepared, for the thirteen colonies were in themselves ripe for independence. But the English General Gaye was as much in the dark about the situation as the revolutionaries. He was without precise orders and did not know how sharply to proceed or even if he should.

Thus the rebels had time to grow into revolutionaries, to find leadership as well as ideas. It was crucial to win all thirteen colonies to the Massachusetts cause. For the time being, it was merely a dispute that affected only the New England colonies: The "far South," South Carolina and Georgia, still showed quite little interest. Even the neighboring colonies, New York and Pennsylvania, were still wavering in their attitude. One might say that supporters and opponents of the revolutionary cause balanced each other out. Perhaps, or even probably, the balance would have been in favor of the British Crown and the Loyalists had not the Germans so resolutely taken the side of freedom at the critical moment.

The Germans were frontiersmen, in New York and Pennsylvania as in Virginia and Carolina, where they had emigrated in large numbers from Pennsylvania. They had no reason to think too kindly of the British authorities. They had not forgotten how they had been left without protection from the Indians. The Palatines in the Mohawk Valley, in particular, retained a grim memory of the British general at Albany who, in response to their request for assistance against the Indians, said that a little bloodletting could do no harm to the stubborn Germans. This man's cynicism cost them scalped women and slain children.

So it was in the Mohawk Valley, where the first Declaration of Independence was written long before the Philadelphia Congress issued its own. Behind this Declaration of Independence was no willingness to compromise, but the will to fight and the ability to do so; for the frontiersmen grew up with the rifle. It accompanied them to the fields as it did to church on Sundays. Even the priest kept the gun leaning against the altar next to him. It was one of these belligerent clergymen, Pastor Peter Mühlenberg, who, after the events in Massachusetts, invited his congregation to the last sermon. He closed it with the words, "There is a time for everything, for preaching and praying, but also for fighting. Now is the time for fighting." With that, he stripped off his gown and stood in uniform, saber at his side, before his surprised congregation. At the same time, the publicity drums rattled outside the church. Thunderous cheers broke out; three hundred men immediately enlisted in the regiment that the former pastor and now colonel had raised. He returned home from the War of Independence a victorious general.

He did not stand alone. Before the shots had even been fired at Lexington, numerous German pastors in Pennsylvania were standing up for the independence of the colonies and preaching it from the pulpit. Many had to atone for their boldness with imprisonment or wandered around the country as homeless refugees, like the two sons of Pastor Mühlenberg, and Pastors Helfenstein, Schmidt and Nevelling.

But after Bunker Hill, committees of safety began to be formed everywhere to take political power into their hands, and when the question arose whether and to what extent to support Massachusetts, every German community raised a force. How strong was the percentage of Germans in the volunteer formations is evident from the one fact that of the nine companies of sharpshooters formed in Pennsylvania, no less than four had exclusively German officers. The first Pennsylvanian troops to join the Revolutionary Army assembling in Boston were the two companies from all-German Berks County under their captains, Nagel and Dandel. Similar numbers of Germans were in the troops sent into the field by Virginia and Maryland. The last survivors of the Virginian sharpshooters who rose to prominence during the War for Independence were the four Germans Heinrich and Georg Michel Bedinger, Peter Lauck, and Gotthold Hulse.