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Kid of the Black Hole
07-17-2008, 11:23 AM
http://mikeely.wordpress.com/2008/07/16 ... #more-1300 (http://mikeely.wordpress.com/2008/07/16/the-sale-of-budweiser-memories-of-beer-lovers-hemp-farmers-and-bloody-revolution/#more-1300)

Ok, I admit it. I’m not your usual observer. When I heard that Budweiser had been bought by the Euro-capitalists InBev, I was not concerned.

I don’t care who owns the factories in the U.S. I don’t worry the U.S. heartland is being infiltrated by foreign interests. And certainly, I don’t consider Budweiser a national treasure. The truth is that it’s almost undrinkable.

But my ears perked up when I read how Budweiser’s maker, Anheuser-Bush had roots in St. Louis that went back before the Civil War. Ah, my friends, THERE is a story worth telling. And I’m going to sit back in the damp heat of this Chicago evening, sip on a couple of Fat Tires, and tell it to you, just because I hate patriotic bullshit and because I love revolution.

* * * * *
The German revolutionaries of 1848



First, there is nothing American about beer making in St. Louis.

St. Louis in the 1850s was a raw river town situated where the Missouri River and the broad Mississippi met. It was a frontier town in many ways and the jumping off point. It was the “end of the line” for civilization. But it was also one of the first American industrial cities, with one of the heaviest concentration of of factory workers in the country. And these workers were not native-born Americans.

A great many of them came straight from Germany – and formed part of a very large German speaking population that then dominated both the urban and rural landscape from St. Louis to Chicago, to Cincinatti and far into the farmlands of Pennsylvania. And these immigrant workers were a very rowdy and radical bunch. Many were veterans of Europe’s great revolutionary battles of 1848 – the first upheavals when working class and communist revolution emerged as a living threat to the world’s ruling classes.

And, at the same time, surrounding this heavily leftwing, workingclass, German-speaking city was a countryside filled with some of the most ugly, racist, pro-slavery forces in the U.S. The Missouri River stretched west from St. Louis, and its shores were lined with slave plantations producing raw materials for twine — a product that shipped downriver to bind the cotton bales of the Mississippi Delta.

The slave owners of Missouri were quite militant. They produced the political gangs called “border ruffians” who crossed the western Missouri border into nearby Kansas territory, where they engaged in armed struggle with abolitionists like John Brown over whether Bloody Kansas would be a slave state or free.

So you can imagine that there was a tension growing through the 1850s between the pro-slavery farmers of the Missouri floodplains and the anti-slavery and often communist workers of St. Louis.

There was a parallel, and little known cultural clash going on at the same time: the German workers arrived as beer drinkers and quite a few of them were first class brewers. There were some Irish among the workers, and they too were fans of the Germans’ sudsy “liquid bread.”
Pro-slavery border ruffians from Missouri



Before long St. Louis was peppered with huge German beer halls, where the often lonely immigrants found community and a feeling of home. For reasons I haven’t yet uncovered, the reactionary political forces of Missouri territory were anti-beer. Maybe they didn’t want this foreign culture to take root. Perhaps they had some early religious prohibitionist logic. But in any case there was an early political clash when a major push was made to ban beer in St. Louis, and (needless to say) the German workers pushed back.

Here is an irony worth thinking about: In the Mississippi river valley, this important historical clash started between beer lovers and hemp growers. And, believe it or not, revolutionary sympathies go with the beer drinkers.

At a time when social organization among immigrants was primitive, the fight over beer helped spur a sense of common identity among the workers, and gave rise to a number of political newspapers. And the movement that emerged from these circles were increasingly active in the fight over slavery. I have on my bookshelf a rare little book that gathers articles and histories from these German immigrant newspapers – and it is clear how they started to articulate deeply revolutionary views that spoke for a highly conscious and engaged working class population.

You may have studied the civil war a little…. I know I have always been fascinated by this first, truly revolutionary war on U.S. soil. And one thing to keep in mind was that the so-called “border states” were a key battle ground as the civil war broke out. There was a strip of these states (from Maryland through Kentucky, Tennessee, to Missouri). They had sizable populations of slave owners and slaves – but a general political mood that was divided over the issues of secession and war.

And in this fight over the border states, Maryland had a particular importance because it surrounded the Union capital, so that if it joined the slavery confederation, Washington DC would be harder to defend. And the mood was so bad that Abraham Lincoln was almost killed in Baltimore as he traveled from Illinois to DC to assume the presidency. At the other end of the country, St. Louis has a major strategic importance for the war: It was the major anti-slavery center on the Mississippi. (Nearby Memphis was a creature of the Mississippi Delta, it was one of the urban nerve centers of the slave empire – filled with slave markets and holding pens.)

And so, as war broke out, all sides prepared to seize St. Louis by force. And if it had fallen to the slavocracy, it would have been quite hard for the Union’s armies to gain a foothold on the Mississippi, and it would have been that much harder to defeat the South.

On the surface, the politics of St. Louis did not look promising. After 1860, the new governor Claiborne Fox Jackson was clearly a pro-slavery diehard, and the bastard was scheming to secede from the Union and pull the state into slavery’s confederacy.

Step by step the tensions mounted, and started to go from political to military preparations. One focus of preparations was the state armory, the largest warehouse of weapons on the frontier. Whoever controlled those guns would be better able to crush their enemies.
German working class militia train in Chicago — similar units prepared for insurrection in pre-war St. Louis.



Here again beer enters the story. Because the German workers started to prepare for battle. Led by veterans of the 1848 Revolutions, they started to secretly train themselves in discipline and military tactics. Their plan: to rise up against the state government in armed insurrection, to seize the armory, and defeat the governor’s army.

Where did they do their drills? In the cavernous beer halls of St. Louis. At a given time, they would gather. The doors would be sealed and put under vigilant guard. The tables would be cleared away. And cartloads of sawdust would be scattered deep on the beerhall floors.

And with the sawdust muffling the tramp, tramp, tramp of their feet, the workers prepared themselves for war – learning the unit movements so central to the warfare of that day. Outside, on the streets, the many spies of the governor could not hear what was going on within.

I won’t go into great detail about the heroic and fascinating ways that violence erupted. Led by heroic army officer Nathaniel Lyons the anti-slavery forces struck and struck hard. They seized St. Louis and the armory. And they shattered the schemes of the slave owners. They routed the Governor’s troops in the early battles. And they bottled up the slaveowners of the Missouri River – cutting them off from the Confederacy.

What followed was one of the most bitter civil wars I have ever studied: Missouri was criss-crossed by vicious pro-slavery deathsquads that carried out horrific murders and mutilations. Their raiders came dressed in a cloud of human scalps sewn into their clothes and bridles – as they spread terror among those who opposed the sale of human beings. If you have ever wondered where the frontier killer Jesse James got trained, it was as a triggerman for one of the most notorious death squads of the slavocracy.

Hemp made its appearance here too, right in the midst of the fighting: in several key battles the Confederate forces build protective breast works out of the hemp bales pulled from their slave plantations, piling up the bundled hemp harvest to protect themselves from Union bullets.

Fighting against the slavocrats were a complex array of forces, and at their core were new Union army units led by radical Republican John Charles Fremont, recruited heavily from among the German workers of St. Louis. The first known actions of communists in the U.S. was the revolutionary armed struggle of these largely German-speaking forces, led in part by Colonel Joseph Weydemeyer, an energetic communist co-thinker of Karl Marx.

These units militantly emancipated many slaves that fell into their hands. This was in direct contradiction with the policy of President Lincoln who, afraid to offend the leading forces of other border states, insisted in the early days of the civil war that slaves should not be freed, but should be treated as “contraband property.” In this dispute, Fremont was removed from the command of the Missouri armies, and these revolutionary working class forces were dispersed into larger armies in order to better control them.

There are, in my opinions, many lessons and insights within this story. And more in the parts I have left untold.

But I tell this story now just to make a single point:

Anyone who thinks that Budweiser and the beer industry of St. Louis is a story of patriotism, Americanism, of all-American “national treasures,” of a whiteman’s “heartland” of traditional values and conservative xenophobia…. Anyone who runs that story just doesn’t know.

The story of beer in St. Louis is a story of communist immigrant workers who didn’t speak English, who hated the mistreatment of kidnapped Africans in the United States and who were willing to kill and die end the horrific practices of human slavery.

Deal with it. Pass it on.

PPLE
07-17-2008, 04:43 PM
Anyone who thinks that Budweiser and the beer industry of St. Louis is a story of patriotism, Americanism, of all-American “national treasures,” of a whiteman’s “heartland” of traditional values and conservative xenophobia…. Anyone who runs that story just doesn’t know.

The story of beer in St. Louis is a story of communist immigrant workers who didn’t speak English, who hated the mistreatment of kidnapped Africans in the United States and who were willing to kill and die end the horrific practices of human slavery.

Deal with it. Pass it on.

Great Shit, Kid.

DanKa (http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=DanKa)

anaxarchos
07-17-2008, 06:51 PM
This tells the beginning of an epic story on how the (largely) German pro-Union 'Home Guards' prevented Missouri from joining the Confederacy at the beginning of the Civil War. The connection to 1848 is well known. The connection to St. Louis beer is a nice touch.

http://www.multied.com/bio/UGENS/Sigel.gif
GENERAL FRANZ 'FRITZ' SIGEL, USA

Franz Sigel was born on November 18, 1824, in Baden, Germany. He graduated from Karlsruhe Military Academy, and retired from the German Army in 1847. Serving as minister of war for the 1848 Revolution against Prussia, he fled the country when the revolution failed. In 1852, he immigrated to the United States, by way of Switzerland and England. He taught school in St. Louis, Missouri, and became a leader of the large German American population in the area. Sigel was commissioned a brigadier general on August 7, 1861, and had progressed to major general on March 22, 1862. He took part in the capture of Camp Jackson, a secessionist camp in St. Louis. Later, he served at Wilson's Creek. At Pea Ridge, he scored the greatest military victory of his career. Sigel also served in the Shenandoah Valley, at Bull Run (Second) and at New Market, in Virginia.
.

blindpig
07-18-2008, 07:46 AM
I Fights Mit Sigel
by Grant P. Robinson

I met him again, he was trudging along,
His knapsack with chickens was swelling;
He'd "Blenkered" these dainties, and thought it no wrong,
From some secessionist's dwelling.
"What regiment's yours? and under whose flag
Do you fight?" said I, touching his shoulder;
Turning slowly around, he smilingly said,
For the thought made him stronger and bolder;
"I fights mit Sigel."

The next time I saw him his knapsack was gone,
His cap and canteen were missing;
Shell, shrapnel, and grape, and the swift rifle ball
Around him and o'er him were hissing.
How are you, my friend, and where have you been,
And for what and for whom are you fighting?
He said, as a shell from the enemy's gun
Sent his arm and his musket 'a-kiting,"
"I fights mit Sigel."

And once more I saw him and knelt by his side,
His life blood was rapidly flowing;
I whispered of home, wife, children, and friends,
The bright land to which he was going;
And have you no word for the dear ones at home,
The "wee one," the father or mother?
"Yaw! yawl" said he, "tell them! Oh! tell them I fights"-
Poor fellow he thought of no other--
"I fights mit Sigel."

We scraped out a grave, and he dreamlessly sleeps
On the banks of the Shenandoah River;
His home and his kindred alike are unknown,
His reward in the hands of the Giver.
We placed a rough board at the head of his grave,
"And we left him alone in his glory,"
But on it we marked ere we turned from the spot,
The little we knew of his story--
"I fights mit Sigel."


http://www.civilwarpoetry.org/union/sol ... -poem.html (http://www.civilwarpoetry.org/union/soldierlife/sigel-poem.html)

meganmonkey
07-18-2008, 09:42 AM
Very inneresting.

When I first read about the sale of Bud I wondered what it would do to the American Beer drinking mentality, like the Daimler Chrysler merge (scandalous here in SE Mich) but even worse... This is a great little slice of history. Thanks for posting.

Now I want a beer. It's already roasting humid hot outside and it's not even ten am. But alas, I shall wait until 5:15pm when it's even hotter. But it won't be a Bud. I actually have a six pack of an american-made pilsner in my fridge, seems a propos.

anaxarchos
07-18-2008, 04:51 PM
I Fights Mit Sigel
by Grant P. Robinson

I met him again, he was trudging along,
His knapsack with chickens was swelling;
He'd "Blenkered" these dainties, and thought it no wrong,
From some secessionist's dwelling.
"What regiment's yours? and under whose flag
Do you fight?" said I, touching his shoulder;
Turning slowly around, he smilingly said,
For the thought made him stronger and bolder;
"I fights mit Sigel."

The next time I saw him his knapsack was gone,
His cap and canteen were missing;
Shell, shrapnel, and grape, and the swift rifle ball
Around him and o'er him were hissing.
How are you, my friend, and where have you been,
And for what and for whom are you fighting?
He said, as a shell from the enemy's gun
Sent his arm and his musket 'a-kiting,"
"I fights mit Sigel."

And once more I saw him and knelt by his side,
His life blood was rapidly flowing;
I whispered of home, wife, children, and friends,
The bright land to which he was going;
And have you no word for the dear ones at home,
The "wee one," the father or mother?
"Yaw! yawl" said he, "tell them! Oh! tell them I fights"-
Poor fellow he thought of no other--
"I fights mit Sigel."

We scraped out a grave, and he dreamlessly sleeps
On the banks of the Shenandoah River;
His home and his kindred alike are unknown,
His reward in the hands of the Giver.
We placed a rough board at the head of his grave,
"And we left him alone in his glory,"
But on it we marked ere we turned from the spot,
The little we knew of his story--
"I fights mit Sigel."


http://www.civilwarpoetry.org/union/sol ... -poem.html (http://www.civilwarpoetry.org/union/soldierlife/sigel-poem.html)

Thanks bp... I had never seen that before. Did you know about it or did you just run across it?
.

blindpig
07-18-2008, 05:43 PM
I Fights Mit Sigel
by Grant P. Robinson

I met him again, he was trudging along,
His knapsack with chickens was swelling;
He'd "Blenkered" these dainties, and thought it no wrong,
From some secessionist's dwelling.
"What regiment's yours? and under whose flag
Do you fight?" said I, touching his shoulder;
Turning slowly around, he smilingly said,
For the thought made him stronger and bolder;
"I fights mit Sigel."

The next time I saw him his knapsack was gone,
His cap and canteen were missing;
Shell, shrapnel, and grape, and the swift rifle ball
Around him and o'er him were hissing.
How are you, my friend, and where have you been,
And for what and for whom are you fighting?
He said, as a shell from the enemy's gun
Sent his arm and his musket 'a-kiting,"
"I fights mit Sigel."

And once more I saw him and knelt by his side,
His life blood was rapidly flowing;
I whispered of home, wife, children, and friends,
The bright land to which he was going;
And have you no word for the dear ones at home,
The "wee one," the father or mother?
"Yaw! yawl" said he, "tell them! Oh! tell them I fights"-
Poor fellow he thought of no other--
"I fights mit Sigel."

We scraped out a grave, and he dreamlessly sleeps
On the banks of the Shenandoah River;
His home and his kindred alike are unknown,
His reward in the hands of the Giver.
We placed a rough board at the head of his grave,
"And we left him alone in his glory,"
But on it we marked ere we turned from the spot,
The little we knew of his story--
"I fights mit Sigel."


http://www.civilwarpoetry.org/union/sol ... -poem.html (http://www.civilwarpoetry.org/union/soldierlife/sigel-poem.html)

Thanks bp... I had never seen that before. Did you know about it or did you just run across it?
.

Just ran across it, though I've known about Sigel, more from his work in the East, which was not so illustrious, but that could be said about 90% of Union generals, 90% of generals, period.

I read some of his bio, he moved to Baltimore after retiring from the Army. Not surprising, B'more's population was something like 60% German around that time. My old neighborhood was called Germantown, the papers and Catholic school & church were German language, all gone after 1917, they changed the name to Highlandtown.

Of course after WWII nobody was German.....

Kid of the Black Hole
07-18-2008, 06:01 PM
I thought Sigel might have been a German word rather than a name at first. Awesome, BP.