The Cavalcade of America. It seems particularly appropriate that this broadcast of the Cavalcade of America presented by DuPont should happen to occur on February 12th, the birthday of that beloved American president Abraham Lincoln, who typifies so many of the fine qualities of American spirit brought out in this series. It is our privilege tonight to reenact several episodes in the life of this rugged, gentle, sensitive soul who knew few comforts but many trials and hardships, and who triumphed over every obstacle through sheer depth of character. As you sit at your radio this evening amidst the comforts of modern life, give a thought to the work of the chemists who have made many present-day comforts possible. The ideal of the research chemist is well described in the phrase which has come to be known as the DuPont chemist's pledge, better things for better living through chemistry. Nowhere in the Cavalcade of America are the qualities and characteristics that we like to term truly American so well exemplified as in the life of the man whose birthday we celebrate this evening. The DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra dedicates its overture to the memory of Abraham Lincoln with a specially arranged fantasy based on popular American themes. To select the countries of28 countries, the number one pathway in writing and you should be careful because it would be completely anything but a full and toeing piece of the painting. today, Abraham Lincoln was born in a log cabin in the wilderness of Kentucky. In the all-too-brief span of 56 years, he arose from poverty, overcame a lack of education, and self-tutored. He dared believe that he was intended for an exalted career. But long before he became president, he was ace, a young boy who in his thirst for knowledge, borrowed every book within 50 miles of his home. One such book is the prized possession of a neighboring farmer, and young Lincoln comes to return it to its owner. Morning, Mrs. Crawford. Well, land's prairie, this ain't Abraham. Well, good morning to you, Abraham. Morning, Mr. Crawford. I rode over to see you about the book you're learning. Well, well, now don't be saying you finished the reading of it. Why, it weren't more an important night ago that you bought it. Well, not quite. Well, there's no hurry, no hurry at all. I won't have time to read it again till winter anyhow. Mrs. and me are mighty proud to have a book like that. It's only one in the state, I figure. Yeah, I know. That's why it's kind of hard, you know. Yes, yes, any kind of reading comes hard, especially for us folks without schooling. But it's a comfort. That book and the Reverend Weems on the life of Washington and the holy Bible is all the reading matter we have. Mr. Crawford, I ruined your book, sir. It was that bad storm we had yesterday. The rain blew in through the cracks in the logs of our cabin and got the book soaking wet. I dried it out, but it's ruined, sir. Well, that's too bad. I kind of set a big store on that book. Books are kind of scarce in these parts. I'm awfully sorry, Mr. Crawford. I haven't got any money to pay for it. Haven't you got some chore I could do, sir? Some plowing or helping you with the winter's wood? No, but I'll tell you what you can do to pay for that book. I don't want to be hard on you. Now, suppose you give me three good days of corn fodder puller. Yes, sir. When can I start? Well, suppose you come over bright and early tomorrow morning. Yes, sir, I'll come. I'll be here before sunup. Young Abraham Lincoln tried his hand at many things as he grew to manhood. He clerked in store, he soldiered in the Black Hawk War, he tried surveying, and for a time was postmaster of New Salem, Illinois. But his love of books and reading never diminished. In 1834, he and William Berry were partners in a general store in New Salem. We find them outside their place of business, sitting on a bench. Yeah, matters well set here in the sun and set inside the store and wait for customers that don't come. Can't you never stop reading, Abe? Why stop reading? There's lots of it to do. We aren't here long enough to do it, as the mosquitoes said, as we started out as a pack, man. Yeah, but reading don't help none running the store, Abe. Nothing seems to help. We get so deep in debt here, Barry, I think we'll have to change to something else, you know. You're always talking about paying off our debt. No wonder I hear them calling you honest about it. What you're likely to change to? Well, if the idea is sometimes that, I'd like to be a lawyer. Lawyer? Say, take a side of reading to be that. What's that book you have there? Law book. I got over it to Friendfield, booked over to get it. God. Say, that's 40 miles over and back. I read quite a part of it walking home. I don't think I got the right one. I need something to get down to fundamentals. Ah, hello. Here comes another mover. Seems as if the world was moving west. Whoa, boy. Hey, stranger. Are you over there? Yes? Want to buy something off this load for your store? They have a good deal more now than we can sell. Well, I ain't sticking on price. I can't hold this load no longer. Got to get rid of some of it. How about that barrel back there? That one tied off with the first thing? Say, a dollar? No, I can not. How about half a dollar? Well, stranger, if you need a half a dollar, here. Catch it. Ah, thanks. And keep your barrel. You might have known you wouldn't make that call if I understand anything. I'm turning, can't you see? I don't want that barrel more than I do want the half dollar. All right. I'll make the trade. I'll lift off the barrel. Hey, he's strong. Why, that's the heaviest barrel of the world, wasn't it? Must weigh 200. There you go. I have it, so I don't know what I'm going to do with it. Thanks, stranger. I hope you won't regret your trade. Get up there. Get up. Well, Abe, what have you got? Well, Diana, I reckon... Hey, what's this? All big books way down at the bottom. Commentaries on the laws of England by William Black. It is just what I want. I reckon that settles it, Barry. For half a dollar, I've got my decision. These books are fundamental. Apparently, I have to be a lawyer. Young Lincoln read and studied law diligently and was finally able to start in practicing in Springfield, the capital of Illinois. But he seemed always anxious to use his talent for those in undeserved distress. A wandering theatrical troupe came to Springfield. With the leader, Joseph Jefferson II, and his handsome wife, was their 10-year-old son, Joseph Jefferson III, who much later was to immortalize himself as Rip Van Winkle. Mrs. Jefferson is speaking to her husband as he and his company work on a carpenter job. Joe, it looks beautiful. Yes, rough work on rough lumber. Makes a pretty good theater. What do you think of it, son? I think it's grand, father. I'm glad you and mother won't have to play in a barn in this place. But has it cost you radio, Joe? It has. Every cent we've saved in the tour. Oh, dear. Oh, I see we're attracting more and more attention. Here comes another group of townspeople to look at the theater. That man ahead, Mr. Jefferson, has been around here several times. Good. We're glad to welcome our future patron. Good morning, sir. Are you the head man of each showman? I am the manager and leader of a company of distinguished players, sir, who are bringing to this fair city the masterpieces of the immortal barn. Maybe and maybe not. Tomorrow night we shall delight you with Hamlet, Prince of Denmark. Maybe and maybe not. I'm at a loss, sir, to understand your doubts. This, sir, this is a religious town, and we ain't going to hold with no play at it. I'm sure that by all law and order we have a right to present these great plays without interfering with the molestation. Maybe and maybe not. The town's been a-watching you a-hamming up this new building, and we don't like it. If it ain't a vice and sin that you're setting up here, I am an officer of the law. And unless you pay the money now, we'll run you out. By, there is no life and peace to be inspired when we came four days ago. Oh, there wasn't then, but the councilor Springfield, good, righteous, and god-fearing man, met yesterday and passed one, and a pretty considerable one, too. I reckon there won't be any princes of Denmark around here when you've heard it. I can use that lumber, Tim, when they've left it. Here on this paper it says, by the authority of the council, no actor or association of actors shall present a stage play within the bounds of Springfield without payment of $500 for each per month. $500? Why, this is an outrage. That's more money than we could possibly clear in a whole summer season. Yeah, just so. Well then, perhaps you'd better pack up and go back where you come from. I beg your pardon, sir. Are you in trouble? Great trouble, sir. This officer is virtually ordering us out of town and confiscating our playhouse. I've heard about this new ordinance. I have a copy somewhere. Where is it? Oh, it's inside my hand. Might I be of any help? Who are you? My name is Lincoln, Abraham Lincoln, a lawyer. Not much of one, perhaps, but ready to take a case, I think. Oh, sir, please. How can we thank you? You're interfering with the law, Lincoln. I reckon that's what lawyers are for, sometimes. Mr. Lincoln, our troop can't find words to thank you. We'll pay you any fee you say, if you'll wait for it and if we can earn it. Well, now it's for the fee. Money is rather scarce with us just now, and if I win and you can manage it, I'd appreciate a ticket to your play. Next morning, Abraham Lincoln appeared before the Council of Springfield, and his eloquent plea for the theatrical performers won the repeal of the unjust ordinance. Love of justice was the keynote of Lincoln's character, and many examples of this trait were found in his legal career. He would not defend a guilty person or press an unjust claim, but for those he believed unjustly oppressed or innocent of a crime, he was always willing to give what aid he could. One such case came to him while he was still in Springfield, practicing with William Herndon. I don't think you'll be remembering me, Abe. Mr. Lincoln, I mean. Why, why Hannah? Hannah Armstrong! Oh, you did remember. You did. I was afraid you... Remember? Why, it's unlikely I'll ever forget the days in New Salem. I was that husband of yours, but you still think you could outrattle me if it comes to a pinch? Oh, you are the same. You haven't changed a bit. You're older, of course, and you look kind of peaky, like you ain't been eating or sleeping regular. But tell me, Hannah, tell me about yourself. Oh, sit down, sit down. You look kind of tired. I am tired, Abe, and worried. That's why I've come all the way here to see you. I knew if anyone could help it'd be you. They say you've come to be a right, fine lawyer. Oh, look here, Hannah, don't you tell me Jack's gone and got himself tangled up with the law at his age. No, it ain't Jack. It's Will, my boy. You remember Will? Of course I remember. He used to play horse in my feet. He used to claim they were most as big as ponies. He must be almost a grown man now, Hannah. He is, Abe, and he's in trouble. Terrible trouble. Oh, Abe. Oh, now, Hannah, maybe it isn't as bad as you think. Most troubles aren't. But this is. He's been accused of murder. Murder? Yes, they're going to try him over to Beardstown in just a couple of weeks. Everybody thinks he's going to be convicted. They say he hasn't a chance, but he's innocent, Abe. I know he didn't do it. I know it. Oh, no, Hannah, this is no time to give way to tears. You save those for the jury. Suppose you tell me just what happened. Well, it happened at a camp meeting near home. Oh, it's horrible, Abe. Oh, Will. Just take your time, Hannah. Tell me everything you know. Well, it was last summer. A man named Metzger was killed, and they've arrested Will because he'd had some trouble with him. And the court has somebody that swears he saw Will hit Metzger over the head. Oh, Abe, I've talked to Will, and he's sworn to me that he didn't do it. Will wouldn't lie to me. I don't think he would, Hannah. But the jury won't believe him, Abe. They won't, will they? No. If it's just his word against that other fellow, they totally won't. Oh, what are we going to do? Well, start with you straighten up your bonnet, Hannah. We're going to Beardstown and find some way of making that jury believe Will's story. Even up to the day of the trial, there seemed to be little chance that the son of Lincoln's old friends would ever go free. As the trial progressed, Lincoln seemed to do nothing but sit beside his client and stare out of a window. As the prosecutor finishes with his star witness, Lincoln gets slowly to his feet. Young man, you realize you're under oath? Yes, sir, I do. And that to lie is to commit perjury? Yes, sir, but what I'm telling is the truth. You claim that on the night of the murder, you were standing 30 yards from the scene of the crime. Yes, sir. Would you mind repeating just how you were able to be so certain that the perpetrator of this foul crime was the defendant, William Armstrong? Well, sir, as I said before, it was a full moon. It was almost as bright as day. I saw young Will Armstrong and Metzger having an argument and pushing each other around. And all of a sudden, Will picked up a piece of iron and hit Metzger over the head with it. Then he ran. And it was only because of the brightness of the full moon, high in the sky, that you were able to see so well from a distance of 20 or 30 yards. Yes, sir, that's it. If there had been no moon or a young moon, you wouldn't have been able to see what happened at all. Is that not true? Well, yes, sir, that's true. Just as I thought. You have purged yourself before this court. Your Honor, gentlemen of the jury, I submit that this witness, the witness upon whose testimony the prosecution hoped to convict my innocent client, has lied. I object. Mr. Lincoln must prove that statement. Order, order in this court, order. Upon what evidence and authority do you make this unusual charge, Mr. Lincoln? Upon the evidence and the authority of this book I hold in my hand, the Albin Act, in which it is clearly shown that on the night of the crime, at the time the witness says the crime was committed, it was only a half moon. And instead of riding high in the sky, it was setting. Lincoln's years of struggle and failure before his election to the presidency and the trying hours during his administration are recorded in the very heart of the nation to which he gave his life. At the height of his career, a nation mourned his tragic death. But perhaps more than any other, his passing brought sorrow to his devoted stepmother, Sally Bush Lincoln. One evening, shortly after the president's untimely death, William Herndon, Lincoln's one-time law partner, visits the home of that kindly woman who perhaps more than anyone else guided and counseled young Abraham in his formative years. He is shown into a neat little sitting room. My dear Mrs. Lincoln, I wish my visit might be on a happier occasion. I felt I must come. You were his friend. It was kind of you to come. Won't you sit down, Mr. Herndon? Abraham spoke of you on his last visit. Of me, Mrs. Lincoln? Surely in the troubled years that have passed, with the cares of the presidency, he must have had little time to think of those of us who knew him in happier days. Being our president didn't change him, Mr. Herndon. Why, he even found time to come here, to visit me. But that was only natural, his mother. You forget, I was only his stepmother, not his flesh and blood. Well, no woman could have been more of a true mother to him. Many times I've heard him say those very words. You were never far from his thoughts, very close to his heart. I loved my own son, John, but not a bit more of an aide. My mind, that little eye I had, seemed to be like his. Abraham was always a good son to me, even when he grew to manhood, he didn't forget. I remember the last time he came, it was snowing hard and just terribly cold. But it was my birthday. He didn't want to disappoint me. He came, sat just where you're sitting now. He looked so tired. The strain of being president all but wrecked his health. Yes, that was plain to see. And he seemed to have strange feelings that he hadn't longed to live. I didn't understand. But when he left me, he took my hands in his and said, this may be the last time we will see each other. I've set myself the task of writing the story of his life. I think folks will want to know in the years to come, the little I can do to acknowledge a fine friendship. Abe was a good boy. I can say what not one mother in a thousand can say. Abe never gave me a cross word. And so passed from the marching ranks of the American cavalcade to camp in the bivouac of the immortal dead, one Abraham Lincoln. Hallelujah, glory, glory, hallelujah, glory, glory, glory, hallelujah, yes, glory marching on. To many of us, Abraham Lincoln stands as the last great hero of pioneer America. After him and because of him, the cavalcade of America marched on to a new nation, a new day of increased opportunity for one and all. But although the frontiers of America have gradually disappeared, the pioneer spirit has not been lost. In every walk of life today, there are men whose vision partakes of the qualities of Lincoln and who are devoting their lives to ideals akin to his. Among them are the men of science, pioneering in their laboratories, seeking the truth, doing their part to make the nation a better place in which to live. The research chemists in laboratories like those of DuPont are fulfilling a service to humanity which is well expressed in the DuPont chemists' creed, to do better things for better living through chemistry. This evening's program will undoubtedly have a special interest for many listeners, so we are happy to announce that the manuscripts containing these little-known stories of Lincoln, as presented on the air, will be sent free of charge to anyone who writes DuPont, Wilmington, Delaware. We should greatly appreciate having school teachers give the name of their school and the class they teach. Ask for the radio script entitled Abraham Lincoln, a true American. It will be sent free to you. Remember the address, DuPont, D-U-P-O-N-T, Wilmington, Delaware. Next week at this same time, DuPont will again present the cavalcade of America. Our next broadcast will dramatize the conquest of rivers by American bridge builders. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. WABC New York.
