The Cavalties of America presented by DuPont. There have been times that tried men's souls, and there have been times that rocked men's hearts and their loyalty. In an hour of crisis, one man on horseback may be hailed as great, and become an Alexander, a Caesar, a Cromwell, or a Napoleon. There was a time in the history of America called the critical period, when discouraged men were impatient of a new and little tried experiment in democracy. When security seemed worth a high price, even the price of freedom itself. And tonight, we will tell you the story of a little known event in the life of that soldier of the American Revolution called the father and savior of his country, George Washington. As an overture, Don Voles and the DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra play Victor Herbert's tribute to America, an arrangement of patriotic airs called American Fantasy. The year 1781, nearly five years have passed since John Hancock signed his name with a flourish to America's Declaration of Independence. Still up and down the shores of the 13 United Colonies swarmed the scarlet-clad forces of an English king. Freedom is only an assertion, not a fact. Discontent, gloom, and despair darken the spirit of colonial America and its ragged, exhausted army. While in letters to his friends, George Washington, the father of his country, writes, There can be no radical cure until Congress is vested by the several states with full and ample powers to enact laws for general purposes, until the executive business is placed in the hands of able and responsible men. Our present force, which is but the remnant of an army, cannot be kept together. It may be declared in a word that we are at the end of our tether. We are at the end of our tether. For six stubborn years men had suffered. Men had died for the ideal of freedom. From the hour of bursting musket crackle it conquered through the roaring cannonades of Monmouth, Saratoga, Trenton, and Stony Point, the fight had been a desperate one. And now in 1781, Lord Cornwallis was ravaging Virginia. A red-coated Benedict Arnold was plundering New London, Connecticut, Manchester, and Richmond, Virginia. The French minister wrote his sovereign at their size. The colonies were weak, their Congress impotent. Then came the day when on a New Jersey hillside the Trooperville-clad, hungry Pennsylvania soldiers line up before their commander, Anthony Wayne. Attention! Halt! Orders from General Headquarters. Proceed without delay to Virginia. All right, men. Are we going to go? Get back there, Sergeant. Back? Nothing. You'll hear what I've got to say. The men have a voice in the other brigades. Not in this one. Back in the line. Men, how are you going to march when you've no souls on your boots? We've had enough, Sergeant. So have we. Look at the coats we've got to wear. Those of us that got them. Who are we fighting for, anyway? That fat Congress in Philadelphia? Where's our pay? Pay for the last seven months. You'll get your pay. Just a moment, Captain. Yes, General Wayne. I know how you feel, men. All I can do now is sympathize. After we beat those lobsterbacks into the sea, the Army will settle scores. I promise you that. But now we've got a fight on our hands. Fight with what? No arms, no provisions, no money. Well, men, are you going to march or are you with me? Come on, speak up. There's your answer, Sergeant. Captain, put that man under arrest. Discouragement and distrition were stalking the colonies mirrored in such scenes of unrest. And distrust was flaring up among the tattered buff and blue brigades of George Washington's Continental Army. Then during a fateful summer at the encampment of the Army above West Point, an officer of the Pennsylvania line limps into the headquarters of Colonel Lewis Nicholas, commander of the so-called Invalid Regiment. Colonel Nicholas, I'm reporting on the command of General Wayne. Your papers, Captain. Thank you. I see you were wounded in the Virginia campaign. We almost didn't go on that campaign. Yes, I know. Insubordination, confusion. I heard about the aborted mutiny, Captain. Bad business. Can something be done, sir? Congress. Who respects Congress? There's only one man the colonies trust, General Washington. One man to construct order out of stupid, tragic chaos. Captain, you're not the first to ask if something can't be done. Something will be done, and soon. A few weeks later, the world was rocked with amazement. The determination of a stern-eyed commander-in-chief of a prolonged Continental Army in North America won a decisive victory. Lord Cornwallis surrendered at Yorktown, and the end of the American Revolution was in sight. In Britain's Parliament, Lord North throws up his hands and exclaims, it is the end. And as Mount Vernon, the tired father of his country, takes a brief rest. Then late in November, George and Martha Washington start north on a triumphal ride to Philadelphia, the capital of the newborn nation, teething with discontent, uncertainty, and fear for the future. Lord, what is wrong? Everyone thinks the war is over, Patsy. But New York is still in British hands, so is Charleston and Savannah. It's just a matter of time, my dear. Already Congress has proposed... Congress. Congress better stop proposing and keep promises. Now they're not going to satisfy the demands of my army, the very soldiers who earned them this victory. It'll mean trouble. Already there's a grave uneasiness afoot. I have it from Colonel Nicholas and a hundred sources. Colonel Nicholas? Colonel Nicholas commands the Invalid Regiment. He's in touch with the sentiment of the soldiers. The clamor of the army might well end in a popular revolt. If what can happen? A strong hand is needed, Patsy. If not, well, I don't like to think of the consequences. In Philadelphia, General Washington is hailed as the savior of his country. And except for a few minor skirmishes, the revolution is truly over. But discontent, discouragement, and distrust continue to sweep through the United States of the Young Republic. Washington had turned to army headquarters at Newburgh. And on a black, stormy night in the year 1782, a sentry paces up and down the windswept bank of the Hudson River. In a single light pouring from General Washington's office, he pauses a moment, seeing another light approaching. Halt! Who goes there? All that is to the guard. The best to be recognized. How goes the night, sentry? All is well, sir. Good. I see the general is up late again. Yes, he's a late one these nights. He stays up with him usually. Halt! Who goes there? It is I, General Washington. I manage things. Well, I wouldn't have challenged you, sir, but on a night like this, I hardly expected to see... Me out for a stroll? No, I suppose not. Do you wish a guard, General Washington? No, no, officer. I'll be on my way back in a moment. Be on with your rounds. Very good, sir. Good night. Good night. Sentry number two, all's well. So, all's well. I beg your pardon, sir. Oh, I'm sorry, sentry. I'm almost strange things, probably. Forget them. But you, man, it's a wet night for you to be out in that threadbare coat. I thought so. No shirt for your back. I'm all right, sir. All right, then. I'm glad to find one, that is. Oh, I think I know what you mean, sir. But I've gone through two, four years now, and I... Thank you, sentry. You've done me a favor. Here. Leave it at the door when your watch is over. You're cold, sir. All's well, sentry. Good night. Good night, sir. As tension in the Army, discouragement, and perplexity among the people threaten the collapse of the ideal of freedom, George Washington sits in his headquarters holding a letter in his hand. He looks up gravely as David Humphreys, his aide-de-camp, and Jonathan Trumbull, Jr., his secretary, enter. Gentlemen, I have sent for you to hear strange communications from Colonel Nicola. It required a good deal of thought on my part last night to know how to deal with it. Before I read this to you, I want pledges from both of you that you will never breathe a word of it. I promise that? Of course, General. Very well. Colonel Nicola reviews what he calls the deplorable condition of the Army and the little hope of reward by Congress. Yes, it's having its effect on the people, too, General. Yes, but, well, Colonel Nicola goes on to say, well, I'll read it to you. It must be manifest that of all other forms of government, republics are the most unstable and least capable of securing the rights, freedom, and property of individuals. America, sir, can never prosper or become a nation under a republic. On the other hand, the English monarchy is most successful. If you consider the financial difficulties and the increasing burden bearing heavily upon the people, this must have shown to all, and to military men in particular, the weakness of republics. Under a proper commander-in-chief, the Army has surmounted difficulties to victory and glory. Just what is Colonel Nicola suggesting? Ah, that is it. It goes on. Those qualities that have merited and obtained universal esteem and veneration of the Army would be most likely to conduct and direct us in the smoother ties of peace. It is difficult to separate the ideas of tyranny and monarchy, but I believe strong argument might be produced for admitting to you, sir, the title of king. Signed, Lewis Nicola. King? I have written, Colonel Nicola, an answer. Here is a copy, which I want you both to attest. Very well, sir. Very well, sir. Ten months later, it's another spring and the American Continental Army still waits on the British to evacuate New York, still waits on Congress to act on General Washington's pleas for a settlement of Army demands. One morning in March 1783, outside headquarters at Newburgh, Mistress Martha Washington is at work in a small garden plot when her husband comes out of the house and begins to stroll up and down the short gravel walk. Look here, moment, George, at my garden. Very, very pretty, Patsy, very pretty. You aren't even looking. It's hardly pretty as yet, for I'm just planting the seeds. I'm sorry, dear. I wasn't looking. It's true. You're worried. What is it? Hamilton warns me the Army won't disband until it's paid. The officers are insisting that the Congress of our Republic be dissolved. Dissolved? And that leadership be invested in a strong ruler. Oh, oh, I see. It's just what I feared, a plot among the officers, men who fought for freedom and saw many die to abolish autocracy in the colony. How much of their plans do you know? None, absolutely none, Patsy. All I know is there never was so great a spirit of discontent as at this moment. Suppose I should become king. George, their plot is not unlike my little garden plot here. Garden plots? I know where the seeds are, but not the weeds that strike at the tender shoots. And so, dear, I watch very carefully and strike first. Yes, but how can I strike first, Patsy, when I don't know when? You must strike first, George. Doesn't a good general strike first? You know what you call it, a surprise? At present, everyone... All right, Patsy, strike first. George Washington had not long to wait for an opportunity. For a few days later, in March 1783, through the camp at Newberg, spread an anonymous succulent. Soldiers, peace returns to press home. A country willing to redress your wrongs, cherish your worth, and reward your services? Or is it rather a representative Congress that tramples on your rights, disdains your cries and insults, your distresses? Awake! Your swords are at your side! To all officers of the Continental Army of the United States, General Washington's compliments. He desires your attendance at the temple in Newberg for an important and essential meeting. I'm George Washington. In a trice, George Washington has called a meeting of his officers and put it on an official basis. An hour later, in Newberg's temple, General Horatio Gates, Washington's Chief of Staff, is in the chair. Lieutenant. Yes, sir. We've been here 20 minutes. Is General Washington coming? We've had word he's on his way, sir. That's all, Lieutenant. Gentlemen, General Washington should arrive any minute now. In the meantime, there's nothing we can do but wait. General Gates, we want it clearly noted now. We hope that you understand our position. You needn't hear that. Gentlemen, General Washington. Sit down, gentlemen. I have prepared a few words to read to you. But before I begin, I'm sorry, but I hope you will permit me to put on my spectacles. You see, I have not only grown gray, but almost blind in the service of my country. I have considered my own reputation. The officers stir uneasily in their seats. Not one has ever before seen their commander-in-chief in glasses. Not one has been aware that George Washington's eyes have dimmed with work. And many of their own eyes have dimmed before the rugged sincerity of the father of their country. ...the full fruition of our hopes, our prayers, and the ideal of free men in a free land. But as you know, sentiments and despair have raised a challenge to that ideal. It has been suggested that I become King of America. Colonel Lewis Nicola offers such a course in utmost and respectful sincerity. And to you, my comrades-in-arms, I wish to read my reply to his proposal. Sir, with a mixture of great surprise and astonishment, I have read with attention the sentiment you have submitted to my perusal. But let me conjure you, sir, that if you have any regard for your country, concern for yourself, or regard for me, to banish these thoughts from your mind and never communicate as from yourself or anyone else a sentiment of like nature. With esteem, I am, sir, your most obedient servant, George Washington. And so it was that George Washington, by striking first, defeated a conspiracy in the high command of the American Army, which might have made him a king. Finally, Congress heeded his pleas on behalf of the soldiers and the last scarlet-backed troops of the British crown left the shores of America. The nation slowly adjusted itself to the perils and experiments of self-government as the Articles of Confederation were replaced by our great charter of national liberty, the Constitution. And 150 years ago yesterday, George Washington stands in a room in Federal Hall in New York City. It's time, Excellency. I have the Bible. Will you go first, General Washington? I want my friends to be on the balcony, too. Adams above all. The Vice President will stand at your service. It's good. All right, Chancellor. Have the doors open. At once, General. They're cheering you like a king, sir. Hamilton, no man, king nor otherwise, has the right to set himself up over the destinies of a free people. Let us go, gentlemen. I will administer the oath of office. Place your hand on the Bible, General. You repeat after me. I, George Washington, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States. So help me God. I, George Washington, do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States and will, to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States. So help me God. Long live George Washington, President of the United States! 150 years ago, our nation acclaimed George Washington our first president rather than our first king. Had Washington's faith in democracy faltered in that hour of crisis, the father of this country might well have reversed the course of our nation's destiny of freedom and become King George of America. And now here's Basil Rysdale speaking to the DuPont Company and bringing us another story from the wonder world of chemistry. Perhaps I don't sound any differently than I did a week ago as I sat at this microphone, but I feel a lot different. I've seen the World's Fair. I've stood beside that towering trillon and huge perispere and craned my neck looking up at them. I've been to the wonder world of chemistry. Yes, for the second time in my life I know what it is to feel like a small boy at his first fair. What a place it is, that New York World's Fair, as I strolled over from the theme center to the DuPont building along tree-lined walks between gardens with flowers in bloom. I looked at the colorful, inspiring buildings on every side and began to understand the story they had to tell, the story of confidence and glory of the world of tomorrow. The world of tomorrow, a dream come true before its time. And then before me I saw the bubbling flashing color of a 70-foot tower symbolizing a piece of chemical apparatus, and I knew I'd reached the wonder world of chemistry. That thrilling first glimpse was only a foretaste of the wonders I found inside. In fact, I had no more than entered the DuPont building when I found myself gazing with astonishment at a mural unlike any decoration I ever saw in my life, a huge mural, 30 feet high and 60 feet long, done entirely in plastic, colorful, transparent, and with hidden lighting to bring out its rare beauty. The man who created this newest sensation in the world of art is the famous mural artist Domenico Mortolito. He says that new materials, devised by chemistry, present the first significant change in four centuries in the field of art. Well, as I attempt to describe my trip to the wonder world of chemistry, it all seems like a beautiful dream. I saw the strange beginnings of chemical products, how they're developed from such raw materials as coal, cotton, wood, vegetable oils, ores, and salt. I stood spellbound before fascinating demonstrations of dyes, perfumes, sopless soap, and the making and testing of neoprene, man-made rubber. And I rubbed my eyes twice when I saw a glass rabbit disappear in a glass hat. Every time I turned my head, my attention was caught by some new, strange sight, the molding of plastics, the spinning of ray-on yarn. Yes, chemistry's miracles performed before my very eyes. And just when I began to think that I'd seen and heard everything, I found myself in a circular hall watching a marionette performance. Spaced around the hall were five different stages, and the amusing little puppets moved from one stage to another. They couldn't have thought of a happier way to finish up my trip through the wonder world of chemistry. I got a great kick out of my visit to the New York World's Fair, and I do hope many of our listeners will be able to see all that I saw. There's a wonder world of chemistry at the San Francisco World's Fair, too, so whether you travel east or west, you can treat yourself to the thrilling inside story of better things for better living through chemistry. Music Next week, the Cavalcade of America presents the story of Juliette Lowe, who founded the Girl Scouts of America. On tonight's program, the role of George Washington was played by William Adams. Until next week, then, at this same time, Mrs. Thomas Chalmers saying good night and best wishes in DuPont. Music This is the Columbia Broadcasting System. Music
