AFTER THE SECOND WORLD WAR a new version of “Trotz alledem” established itself in Germany, placing the song clearly within the tradition of the 1848 Revolution. This was Freiligrath's “Das war ‘ne heiße Märzenzeit,” his 1848 adaptation of “Ob Armut euer Los auch sei” (1843). In June 1848 he published this political poem first in the Neue Rheinische Zeitung and subsequently in other newspapers. There is, however, no tangible evidence that this adaptation met with any reception of note in the nineteenth century. It was not until after the Second World War that it was revived. In West Germany “Das war ‘ne heiße Märzenzeit” became one of the most recorded songs by Liedermacher and folk groups from the 1960s onwards. Its prominence in the scene encouraged many further adaptations foregrounding a variety of popular political topics of the 1970s and 1980s.

The main instigator of the revival of Freiligrath's “Das war ‘ne heiße Märzenzeit” after the Second World War was Ernst Busch. Having made a name for himself in the Weimar Republic as the singer of workers’ songs, Busch recorded “Trotz alledem” around 1950 in the GDR and, significantly, used the Scottish melody of “For a’ that.” He had also previously published this version in his collection Internationale Arbeiterlieder. Both of these form the earliest source for the use of the Scottish melody in Germany. It has not yet been established how Busch came to know the “Märzenzeit” version of this song, let alone the original tune, because, as we know, until now it was “Ob Armut euer Los auch sei,” which is known to have been sung in German workers’ circles—to the tune of “Als Noah aus dem Kasten war.” A significant aspect of Busch's version, which may or may not shed light on this puzzle, is its particular structure: apart from the missing verses 2, 6, and 7, it is characterized by the montage of various parts of verses: for example, the first part of verse 1 appears together with the second part of verse 3; and part 1 of verse 4 with part 2 of verse 5.

THE POEM “HUNGERLIED” (Song of Hunger) otherwise known as “Verehrter Herr und König” (Dear Sir and King) was written by the committed socialist writer Georg Weerth in the period 1844–45. However, the three short verses expressing the misery of starvation were never published in Weerth's lifetime, and there is no record of any reception in the nineteenth century. The text was rediscovered in the context of the German folk revival of the 1970s, where it was set to music by various different artists.

The writer Georg Weerth (1822–56) was a close colleague of Friedrich Engels and Karl Marx. When he wrote the poem he was working as a commercial assistant at a worsted and wool factory in Bradford, England, and, as such, had first-hand experience of the working conditions of the poor. He observed:

Weerth's poem cycle Die Not (Poverty) from 1844–45 highlighted the plight of various craftspeople and workers in dealing with social misery and the structures of exploitation they had to endure. “Das Hungerlied,” as the closing text, assumes a prominent contextual role. This elevenpart cycle was never published in Weerth's lifetime, only five of its poems being issued after 1845 under the title Lieder aus Lancashire (Songs from Lancashire).

“FRISCH AUF ZUR WEISE VON MARSEILLE” (Rise Up to the Tune of the Marseillaise), more commonly known as “Reveille” (Wake Up), was written in 1849 by Ferdinand Freiligrath to commemorate the first anniversary of the March revolution of 1848. With its direct reference to the “Marseillaise,” the author intentionally invoked the spirit of the French Revolution in his call for a new, more radical rebellion. After the final failure of the revolution in 1849, the song's circulation was confined to circles of political émigrés abroad. Freiligrath's “Reveille” did not resurface until after the revolution of 1918, when it was adapted by Hermann Scherchen as a choral piece for the workers’ movement. In the early years of the GDR it was revived as an example of a historical worker’s Kampflied (battle song).

On March 19, 1849, a banquet took place in Cologne commemorating the Berlin barricade battles of twelve months before. Organized by the Cologne Demokratischer und Arbeiter-Verein (Democratic Workers’ Association), the event in Gürzenich was attended by over 5000 people and featured speeches against a backdrop of music, beer-drinking, and general festivities. Der Wächter am Rhein reported how the call went up for “eine zweite Volkserhebung” (a second popular revolt), a demand that was also featured in a newly written text by Ferdinand Freiligrath to the tune of the “Marseillaise.” Performed on the day, it chimed with the revolutionary spirit of the occasion and, according to the Neue Rheinische Zeitung, was received “mit donnerndem Beifall” (with thunderous applause). This demonstrative application of a symbol of the French Revolution was also reflected in other aspects of the banquet: for example, in the typical Jacobin attire of Phrygian caps worn by the hall attendants. These decked the stage alongside a big red flag. This was the setting for the first large public performance of Freiligrath's song, which was published in oppositional magazines of the Rhineland shortly after.

Freiligrath's lyrics reflected the song's political function: it was intended as a “Reveille der neuen Revolution” (a wake-up call for the new revolution). Here the author reconnected with ideas he had already formulated in “Die Todten an die Lebenden” (The Dead to the Living) from the summer of 1848. In this poem, Freiligrath had expressed a sense of obligation towards the victims of the March uprising to reawaken the revolutionary “Grimm” (fury) in order to complete the “halbe Revolution” (half revolution).

“IN KÜMMERNIS UND DUNKELHEIT” (“Schwarz-Rot-Gold”) was one of the first political songs to comment on the early revolutionary developments of the year 1848. In the text Ferdinand Freiligrath presented the colors black, red, and gold as symbols of the movement for democratic political change. The text was set to music in 1848 by various composers, including Robert Schumann, whose melody is the one that is used today. After falling into relative obscurity the song experienced a significant revival in the social democratic movement of the Weimar Republic, where the colors black, red, and gold acquired a renewed political relevance. In the post-1945 period “Schwarz-Rot-Gold,” as a song of the 1848 Revolution, was perceived as part of Germany's democratic cultural heritage in both the Federal Republic and the GDR.

Ferdinand Freiligrath wrote the poem “Schwarz-Rot-Gold” in mid- March 1848 in London, where he was living and working at the time. The text represented Freiligrath's critical response to the Frankfurt Bundestag's resolution of March 9, which had declared black, red, and gold to be the official colors of the German Confederation. This, as he saw it, was a blatant attempt by the powers-that-be to stem the rising tide of opposition by appropriating its symbols. In his poem Freiligrath counteracted this by giving the colors an explicitly more subversive interpretation. Inspired by the February 1848 Revolution in France, which he had already paid tribute to in his poem “Die Republik,” Freiligrath now raised his own lyrical German tricolor and pleaded for the rule of the princes to be abolished. The text first appeared on March 24, 1848 in the Deutsche Londoner Zeitung and thereafter in various prints that circulated as broadsides in Germany during the year of revolution.

While the poem functions, on one hand, as a commentary on the political developments of March 1848, it goes beyond that in additionally providing a new revolutionary interpretation of the colors black, red, and gold. The phrase “das alte Reichspanier” (the banner of the old empire) is a reference to the alleged origins of the colors in the medieval Holy Roman Empire. However, since the German Campaign (1812–14) during the Napoleonic Wars, the colors had begun to play an increasingly political role.

WITH ITS BLATANT CALL for the overthrow of the aristocracy in Germany “Fürsten zum Land hinaus” (Princes Get Out) was the most prominent revolutionary song of the Vormärz period. Its authorship and exact circumstances of origin are unknown. Thought to have been written in early 1832, the song met with a great popular response in May of that year at the Hambach Festival, from where it spread out over the whole of Germany. As an oppositional song it played a prominent role right up to the revolution of 1848–49, its incendiary nature reflected in the criminal proceedings brought against its suspected disseminators. The song henceforth rapidly disappeared from view until its revival in the folk and Liedermacher scene of the 1970s, which sought to appropriate the German tradition of revolutionary song.

“Fürsten zum Land hinaus” emerged in the course of the liberal movement for change that swept over Europe after the French July Revolution of 1830 causing uprisings and political unrest. The earliest known reference to its existence is in the magazine Eulenspiegel from late March 1832, where it is described as the “Spottlied, welches anfängt: Fürsten zum Land hinaus!” (the satirical song starting with the words: Princes out of the country!) However, its actual “birth” as an epochmaking revolutionary song was a few months later at the Hambach Festival of May 26–27, 1832, where it was widely sung and distributed as a flyer. This festival, where between 20,000 and 30,000 people gathered near Neustadt in the Palatinate calling for democratic liberties and German unity, was the largest such event of its day. It proved to be the decisive factor in the subsequent circulation of the song throughout the German states.

In the beginning it appears that “Fürsten zum Land hinaus” consisted of sixteen verses, each referring to a particular king, grand duke, kingdom, or principality. The political vision of the song is poetically conceived as a “Treibjagd” (chase or hunt).

THE SATIRICAL SONG “Ich bin ein guter Untertan” (I Am a Loyal Subject) was written during the 1848 Revolution by the Berlin author Adolf Glaßbrenner. This political “Vexierlied” (song with a teasing rhyme), which comically sends up people's servility in the face of authority, was extremely popular in the Liedermacher and folk scene of the 1960s and 1970s.

Adolf Glaßbrenner (1810–76) was a politically active poet and journalist in the Vormärz, who published mostly under the pseudonym of Adolf Brennglas. He was, above all, known as a humorist and satirist who often came into conflict with the censors. He published “Ich bin ein guter Untertan” in his Komischer Volkskalender für 1849. A text parodying unconditional submissiveness towards authority, it was written in the style of a “Vexierlied,” in which the actual political statement is camouflaged: the rhyme scheme leads one to anticipate a certain word which is then substituted—through an apparent slip of the tongue—by a politically less sensitive word. The humorous act of subterfuge is so transparent, however, that the critical statement becomes all the more obvious.

The song lyrics deal on one hand with the problematic relationship between subject and prince (verses 1, 2 and 4) and on the other hand between subject and the state apparatus: officials (verse 3), police (verse 5), the educational establishment (verse 6), the clergy (verse 7), and finally the upper class in general (verse 8). For example, the lyrical subject would like to beat up the policemen himself; considers priests to be nothing but rascals; and wishes his prince would go to hell, feeling deceived by him because he has not fulfilled the oath he took to serve his people.

Glaßbrenner set the text to the tune of a popular song of the time. However, while the words “nach bekannter Melodie” (to the well-known tune) appear under the title, we still do not know exactly today which tune he had in mind. It could possibly have been the erotic joke song “Ich bin ein hochbeglückter Mann” (I Am the Happiest of Men), which was popular in the second half of the nineteenth century, and was also a “Vexierlied,” containing the same line and rhyme structure as “Ich bin ein guter Untertan.”

THE SONG “Freifrau von Droste-Vischering” (Countess von Droste- Vischering) satirizes a miracle healing that allegedly took place at the exhibition of the “Holy Robe” in 1844 in Trier. This travesty of the Catholic Church's belief in miracles was written by the young Berlin journalist Rudolf Löwenstein. In the nineteenth century the song was known primarily in student circles and circulated in utility songbooks until the turn of the century. After many decades of obscurity “Freifrau von Droste-Vischering” was revived in the Liedermacher and folk scene of the 1970s. Traditionally enjoyed for its comic aspect, the song was also adapted for political parodies.

“Freifrau von Droste-Vischering” was written in autumn 1844 by Rudolf Löwenstein (1819–91), who was later to become editor of the satirical magazine Kladderadatsch. He first recited the text on November 10, 1844, in the Berlin literary society Tunnel über der Spree (Tunnel over the Spree). A private print was published shortly afterwards to celebrate the society's Founder's Day. Although there is no indication that Löwenstein had a particular melody in mind, the text was soon adapted in student circles to the tune of “Ich nehm mein Gläschen in die Hand” (I Take My Glass in My Hand). The song was presumably disseminated mostly in handwritten form, as the first records of its reception are in private songbooks: one from 1846/47 belonging to the student Friedrich Rolle, and a similar version dating from 1848 in East Prussia.

As mentioned, the song “Freifrau von Droste-Vischering” is linked to the spectacular case of a miracle healing that is alleged to have taken place on August 30, 1844 at the “Holy Robe” exhibition in Trier. According to this, the nineteen-year-old Countess Johanna von Droste zu Vischering touched the alleged tunic of Christ and by doing so was cured of the limp she had acquired through illness. The satire was also fueled by the general controversy surrounding the Trier exhibition: organized by the Ultramontanist movement, this concession by Protestant Prussia to its mostly Catholic Rhine province had been heavily criticized. One of the main points of contention had been the various reports of miracle healings at the mass event in the Trier Cathedral, to which around half a million people made the pilgrimage to see the Holy Robe between August 16 and October 6, 1844.

THE POLITICAL SONG “Trotz alledem” was written in 1843 by Ferdinand Freiligrath (1810–76). It was a translation of Robert Burns's “A Man's a Man for a’ that” (also known as “Is There for Honest Poverty”) from 1795. The song circulated in the republican milieu at the time of the 1848 Revolution, the expression “Trotz alledem und alledem” (for a’ that, an’ a’ that) subsequently emerging as an influential slogan in the German workers’ movement. Freiligrath's translation became virtually obsolete in the second half of the twentieth century, when it was superseded in the repertoires of political singers by his 1848 revolutionary adaptation of “Trotz alledem,” “Das war ‘ne heiße Märzenzeit” (It Was a Hot Time in March), particularly during the New Social Movements of the 1970s.

Between 1785 and 1795 Robert Burns (1759–96) wrote four different poems to the traditional song refrain of “For a’ that, an’ a’ that.” “Is There for Honest Poverty,” which became the best-known of these, was first published in August 1795 in the Glasgow Magazine. This poem, Burns's most famous political song, was influenced by the English revolutionary Thomas Paine's text The Rights of Man (1791/92). It lauded the worth of the honest, common man who can see through the façade of wealth and social rank, and who appreciates the merits of an independent mind. In the final verse Burns proclaims the dawning of a new age of universal brotherhood among mankind. It was published in several newspapers at the time, but because of the incendiary nature of such democratic ideas in the wake of the French Revolution, Burns's publisher George Thomson waited altogether ten years (nine years after Burns's death) before he finally published the song in the 1805 edition of his renowned Select Collection of Scottish Airs.

Twenty-eight years later, in November 1843, “Is There for Honest Poverty” was translated into German by Ferdinand Freiligrath. With its title “Trotz alledem” and opening line “Ob Armut euer Loos auch sei” the translation found a wide circulation in Germany, especially in the workers’ movement of the late nineteenth century. An enthusiastic anglophile from his early years, Freiligrath had already translated poems by Walter Scott, Samuel Coleridge, Thomas Moore, and others, and had included thirteen translations of Burns poems (including “My Heart's in the Highlands” and “To a Mouse”) in his first volume, Gedichte, in 1838.

“SCHLAF MEIN KIND, SCHLAF LEIS’” (Sleep My Child, Sleep Softly), otherwise known as “Badisches Wiegenlied” (Baden Lullaby), is a text written by the politically engaged poet Ludwig Pfau in the final days of the Revolution in 1849. It was set to music shortly afterwards. In the following decades it disappeared from the public realm but left some traces in oral tradition up until the point when it was revived in the late 1960s. From this point on, it played a prominent role in the German folk scene, where it was performed by many singers and groups and set to various musical accompaniments.

The Stuttgart writer Ludwig Pfau (1821–94) first published “Badisches Wiegenlied” in December 1849 in the magazine Eulenspiegel, which he himself had founded. In the form of a nursery rhyme, the text takes a critical stance towards the Prussian troops who had suppressed the Baden revolution in July 1849 after a three-week-long siege of the Rastatt fortress, in which the remaining insurgents made their last stand. Even before his poem was issued in Stuttgart, Pfau had to flee to Switzerland because of his participation in the uprising. A little later his text was set to music by an unknown composer and published as a song with piano accompaniment, which circulated among the German refugees in Strasbourg. The print appeared with the dedication on the cover sheet: “Zum Besten deutscher politischer Flüchtlinge” (For the good of German political refugees).

The effect of Pfau's text is basically achieved by the sharp contrast between the innocent style of the lullaby and the bitter political content. At the beginning and end of each verse, the mother beseeches her child to sleep “leise” (quietly) and justifies this with reference to the Prussian troops “dort draußen” (outside), who are taking reprisals against revolutionaries. In the last verse, however, there is a twist, whereby the mother changes her appeal: when the day of freedom comes, the child should no longer sleep but rather scream out that revenge has been taken against the Prussians: “Schrei mein Kindlein, schrei’s: / Dort draussen liegt der Preuss” (Scream out my child, scream out: / The Prussian is lying out there).

THE SATIRICAL TEXT “Zu Frankfurt an dem Main” (In Frankfurt on the Main), also known as “Das Reden nimmt kein End’” (The Talking Never Stops), was written in 1848 by the revolutionary poet Georg Herwegh. It critically examines the on-goings in the first freely elected German parliament, which sat from May 1848 until May 1849 in the Paulskirche in Frankfurt on the Main. Not much is known about the text's reception in the nineteenth century. In the early decades of the twentieth century, it was published primarily in anthologies of political lyric. It was first set to music and performed as a song in the Liedermacher and folk scene of the 1970s.

In early summer 1848 Georg Herwegh wrote “Zu Frankfurt an dem Main” in his Paris exile. It was first published on July 7, 1848, in the Deutsche Londoner Zeitung. In the months prior to this, Herwegh had been directly involved in the revolutionary events of 1848. Inspired by the February Revolution in France, he had founded the German Democratic Legion in Paris and led it in an abortive campaign to support the uprising of the radical democrat Friedrich Hecker in Baden. Arriving too late to be of any help, Herwegh's disorganized troops were overcome and chased from the scene by Württemberg soldiers on April 27, 1848, a week after the defeat of Hecker's volunteer force. The poet fled with his wife, Emma, first to Switzerland, from where they journeyed back to Paris. On May 18, 1848, the National Assembly was inaugurated in the Frankfurt Paulskirche.

As reflected in the text, the exiled poet regarded the new parliament with extreme skepticism. In “Zu Frankfurt an dem Main,” he comments on the initial phase of the newly constituted National Assembly, as it quickly became evident that even the demand to set up a provisional executive led to prolonged debates. These ended with the National Assembly president Heinrich von Gagern's appeal for the parliament to use its absolute power to elect a provisional Central Executive for Germany. When the corresponding law was passed the following day, on June 28, Archduke Johann of Austria was duly elected Imperial Administrator.

GEORG HERWEGH WROTE the poem “Wohlgeboren” (Well-Born) in late 1841 in Paris. It is a satirical “Rollengedicht” (dramatic monologue) in which the narrator figure reveals himself to be a social conformer through the irony of his own words. It first became a song in the 1960s and 1970s, when it was revived by Peter Rohland and other singers in the German folk movement.

Herwegh first published “Wohlgeboren” in February 1842 in the magazine Telegraph für Deutschland and subsequently in the second volume of his Gedichte eines Lebendigen (Poems of a Living Man) in 1843. It appeared there alongside the poem “Hochwohlgeboren” (High-Born) by Franz Dingelstedt (1814–81) under the caption “von zwei deutschen Dichtern in Paris” (by two German poets in Paris). Herwegh had struck up a close friendship with Dingelstedt through the winter of 1841–42 in Paris.

In “Wohlgeboren” the narrator assumes the role of a conformist bourgeois citizen. With playful irony, he relates how in his youth he “tobte sich aus” (let off steam), experimenting with politically inappropriate ideals and wearing the black, red, and gold ribbon (a reference to the patriotism of the student fraternities). Now having achieved a social standing, however, he is no longer interested in politics. He would rather be “ein guter Bürger” (a good citizen), enjoy a comfortable life, and settle down with a medal for his services.

The inspiration for this satire of bourgeois conformity and moral cowardliness was derived from “Le poète de cour” (Poet of the Court, 1824), a chanson by the French lyricist Pierre Jean de Béranger. As well as the ironical form, both poems share the theme of the betrayal of enlightened ideals. While Béranger vents his sarcasm on the fawning behavior of a wannabe court poet—one who is willing to sell himself to politicians, write odes to egoism, and heap praise on high ranking officials— Herwegh portrays a caricature of the German “Bürger” who rejects democratic tendencies. He wants to be left in peace; to be spared the cries for “verdammte Freiheit” (damned freedom) that endanger his strident endeavors for respectability.

In the nineteenth century, Herwegh's poem was disseminated chiefly through the various editions of his volume Gedichte eines Lebendigen. However, there is no evidence that the text was ever set to music or performed as a song.