On July 4, 1776 fifty-six members the Continental Congress signed and adopted the Declaration of Independence in Philadelphia. News traveled at the speed of horseback, and within four days the radical document was rushed northwest to the frontier town of Reading. It was delivered directly to the steps of the original 1761-built stone Berks County Courthouse located in the center of Penn Square; the bustling open common at 5th and Penn Streets.

To gather the townspeople, the bell atop the Courthouse’s cupola rang out. Stepping forward into a crowded, anxious public square, Berks County Sheriff Henry Vanderslice read the treasonous, revolutionary words aloud in both English and German for the very first time to Berks Countians. For those listening this was the exact moment their lives changed from British subjects to American rebels.

That very same bell, since dubbed the “Berks County Liberty Bell” has survived the centuries and is on public display at the Berks County Services Center. It serves as a tangible touchstone to the birth of our nation.

Berks County Supplied the War Effort

When the British occupied Philadelphia in 1777, the Continental Army lost its primary port and urban manufacturing hub. When George Washington desperately needed a secure, inland sanctuary to keep his army alive he turned to Berks County. Protected geographically by its Blue Mountains to the north and South mountains on the southwest, Berks became an industrial backbone of the war effort and a place of refuge for those displaced by the British occupation.

Local ironmasters like Daniel Udree at Oley Furnace, John Lesher at Oley Forge, and George Ege at Charming Forge completely retrofitted their civilian operations. Overnight, they went from casting stove plates to forging heavy cannonballs, grape shot, and wrought iron components for continental weapons. Ironworkers frequently buried ammunition in the surrounding woods and fields to hide them from potential British scouting parties. These relics are still occasionally unearthed by local farmers.

Simultaneously, Berks served as Washington’s breadbasket. Nicholas Lotz, who owned two mills along the Wyomissing Creek, was appointed as a commissioner of supplies. He coordinated a massive network of grist mills along the Tulpehocken and Maiden creeks who milled and transported thousands of barrels of flour to sustain the starving troops downriver at Valley Forge. Meanwhile, local gunsmiths like Bern Townhip’s Balser Geehr took an active role in forming and arming Berks County’s militia.

The German Settlers

By 1775, the vast majority of Berks County was populated by German-speaking immigrants or their first-generation children. Having fled religious persecution, heavy taxation, and the arbitrary rule of European princes, the American cry against “Taxation without Representation” deeply resonated. They didn’t view the war as a distant political debate; it became the immediate defense of the freedom they had crossed an ocean to find.

When news of Lexington and Concord reached Reading in April 1775, the mobilization was instantaneous. Within three short weeks, nearly every single township across Berks County had independently raised, financed, and disciplined a militia company. By July 1775, Berks had successfully formed seven distinct battalion militia units, comprised of about 4,000 able-bodied men out of Berks County’s total population of 15-20,000.

These mainly German-speaking units, who frequently marched, gave orders, and sang hymns in their native tongue, were led by local leaders like Nicholas Lotz, Henry Haller, and Joseph Hiester (who would survive British captivity to become the Governor of Pennsylvania). They fought with legendary distinction at the Battles of Long Island, Trenton, Brandywine, and Germantown.

Hessian Camp

During the Revolution, the southeastern slope of Mount Penn was the site of a prison camp whose population was half the size of Reading’s. This led to an interesting clash of culture; German mercenaries imprisoned in a fiercely patriotic German-American town.

Following Continental victories like the Battle of Trenton, George Washington faced a massive logistical challenge. Where would he house thousands of captured German auxiliary troops (popularly called “Hessians”)? In 1781, a permanent 12-acre encampment was established on the southeastern slopes of Mount Penn. Today this area is known as the “Hessian Camp” neighborhood in Reading. Over 1,000 prisoners were marched there to build barracks, clear timber, and plant gardens along what is now Steuben Road. Washington’s decision in placing them here was calculated.

The social dynamic in Reading was utterly unique. The guards and the prisoners spoke the exact same language. At first local German-Americans were hostile toward the Hessians, viewing them as hired hands sent to destroy their American dream. Over time that hostility softened into a strange economic and social integration. Due to the war causing a massive domestic labor shortage, authorities began granting trusted Hessian prisoners daytime “paroles”. They left their camp on Mount Penn to work as hired hands on local Berks County farms or as skilled laborers stoking the fires of nearby iron furnaces. They integrated into local commerce, practicing trades like shoemaking, weaving, and carpentry.

When the Treaty of Paris officially ended the war in 1783, the Hessians were ordered to march back to New York to be shipped back to Europe. Yet for many of them loyalties had changed. They had spent years working alongside Berks County families, enjoying the fertile soil, and experiencing a level of personal freedom unimaginable in their heavily taxed German homelands. Many chose to desert returning orders, fade into the countryside, or formally purchase their freedom. Local church records from the late 1780s are filled with German surnames of former “Brunswickers” and “Hanauers” marrying local women and buying property. While the phrase “Du bist ein Hesse” (You are a Hessian) remained a playful local insult for generations, these former enemy soldiers ultimately became indistinguishable from the fabric of the community, and became a driving force in building postwar Berks County.

Happy 250th, Berks County

Two hundred and fifty years ago our nation was whispered into existence. Philadelphia may have held the pen, but Berks County was the engine. Perhaps a foreshadowing of things to come in the next century. On July 8th, 1776, our local Liberty Bell rang out right here on Penn Street, echoing a radical new promise of freedom for all. When the Continental Army faced its darkest hours, our iron furnaces forged the ammunition, and our valleys became the breadbasket that kept the revolution alive.

Our story is built by those who spoke the language of liberty in a second tongue. Thousands of German-speaking patriots left everything to fight on the front lines. Berks County is a place where even our enemies, like those Hessian captives, saw the intoxicating promise of American freedom and chose to become a part of it.

We didn’t just witness the birth of America here in Berks County. We fed it. We armed it. We defined its diverse, resilient spirit. We still do.