Colin Ross, "Unser Amerika", Chapter 22

 22.

The Fateful Hour of American Freedom

The British had left Boston, independence had been declared, and a cry of joy echoed through America. King George, however, was not so quick to admit defeat. The British came back, three times as strong. They landed on Long Island. Washington, opposing them, narrowly escaped annihilation with his entire army. New York was occupied, the Hudson forts were lost, and disaster followed on the White Plains. Defeat followed defeat until Washington's bold crossing of the Delaware and victory at Trenton at least temporarily restored the fortunes of war to the star-spangled banner.

The situation remained difficult enough, however. The Congress in Philadelphia talked and talked, made resolution after resolution, but still had not been able to bring itself to a unified organization of the states declared independent as well as to decisive political leadership. Under these circumstances, the eagerly awaited recognition by the European powers failed to materialize, not even that of England's old adversary France, although Benjamin Franklin had already been in Paris for months and was pulling out all the stops to achieve an alliance or at least the recognition of the United States.

In addition, increasingly gloomy clouds were gathering in military terms. England was about to strike a decisive blow. It planned to separate the New England colonies from the southern states. For this purpose, General Burgoyne was to march down the Hudson Valley from Canada, while at the same time a British fleet sailed up the river. In addition, a detachment under the command of Colonel St. Leger was to move from the west to flank the Americans and then join the main force at Albany. St. Leger's detachment also had the second important task of securing the rich supplies of the Mohawk Valley, the granary of New York State, for the provisioning of the troops as they continued their advance.

Both approaches were covered by one Fort each. Fort Ticonderoga, which closed the Hudson Valley, was evacuated by its three-thousand-man garrison when British troops scaled a cliff that overhung American fortifications. Even Fort Stanwix in the headwaters of the Mohawk could not have stopped the advance of St. Leger's columns had not the Palatines of the Mohawk Valley stood in their way.

The Palatines had already formed a security committee in 1776 to take over political administration. But in such a dangerous place it was not only necessary to talk and make decisions, but to act and to fight. Therefore, when news reached the Mohawk Valley of the approach of the British columns, joined by an auxiliary corps of about a thousand Indians, all the members of the Safety Committee met. The entire male population from sixteen to sixty years of age took up arms, and the leadership of this peasant army of eight hundred men was assumed by Nicolas Herchheimer, an old experienced fighter from the French wars.

Herchheimer decided to move against the enemy. His war plan was to take them under fire from two sides. He had notified the commander of Fort Stanwix, which was surrounded by the British, of his coming. At a given signal, the garrison was to make a sortie and seize the British in the rear. However, the messenger narrowly escaped capture and was delayed. Instead of surprising the enemy, Herchheimer himself fell into a trap. The old cautious backwoodsman finally could no longer resist the urging of his subordinates, who accused him of cowardice, and ordered the further advance before the appointed signal from the fort, three cannon shots, could be heard. As the marching column, Herchheimer on a white horse at the head, passed a swampy depression surrounded by dense forest, the valley echoed with the banging of countless shotguns and the shrill war cry of the Indians. The rear guard was cut off on the far slope, and those stuck in the lowlands seemed lost. But the backwoodsmen, skilled in bush warfare, had quickly caught on and repulsed the first attack. Admittedly, the losses were exceedingly heavy. Herchheimer himself was wounded. Leaning against a tree, he led the further fight, which was conducted for hours with extreme bitterness on both sides. Finally, after a long, long wait, three rapid cannon blasts rang out, the longed-for signal from the fort. With renewed determination the Palatines attacked, throwing the English and Indians to flight. The soldiers of the garrison of Fort Stanwix, however, did not reach beyond the British camp, and instead of advancing as far as Herchheimer's troops, they contented themselves with plundering the British and Indian camp and setting fire to the tents. Under these circumstances Herchheimer could not think of pursuing the enemy immediately. Of his eight hundred men, two hundred and forty had fallen. Of the rest, hardly any were unwounded. He himself succumbed to his injuries shortly thereafter. But reinforcements had scarcely arrived when the Palatines again advanced, sacked Fort Stanwix, and drove St. Leger back to Canada.

The effects of this encounter at Oriskany, which remained the bloodiest of the entire War of Independence, were of vital importance. Burgoyne had been deprived not only of the support of St. Leger's column, but more importantly of the provisions from the Mohawk Valley on which the whole plan of advance had been built. His troops soon began to suffer bitter hardship from everything. The Americans succeeded in encircling them on all sides and finally forced them to surrender Saratoga.

With Saratoga, the decisive turning point had occurred. By October 1777, Burgoyne had surrendered. In November, Congress passed the Articles of Confederation, which finally gave the thirteen individual states something like a unified political form. In December, France recognized the independence of the United States and entered into a treaty of alliance with them. In January, at last, England made peace proposals and indicated her willingness to recognize a partial independence for her former colonies. But after Saratoga, this was no longer enough for the Americans, who demanded all or nothing. In this way, the war continued until full independence was won.

By today's standards, Oriskany was only a modest battle. But small causes often have big effects. Without Oriskany, there would have been no alliance with France. Without the French alliance, no final victory. Eight hundred German peasants who stood in the way of enemy superiority with contempt of death held the decisive turning point.

Today there are American history books in which Oriskany is not even mentioned. At that time people judged differently. Under the immediate impression of the achievement of Herchheimer and his Palatines, Congress very swiftly, as early as October 1777, approved five hundred dollars for the erection of a monument in honor of the peasant general. And Washington judged, "It was Herchheimer who first transformed the dismal scene of the campaign in the North into its opposite!"