The Cavalcade of America, presented by DuPont. The story of Benedict Arnold, starring the distinguished actor of stage and screen, Claude Raines. The DuPont Company, makers of better things for better living through chemistry, presents the Cavalcade of America, dedicated to those men and women in every walk of life who have shaped the destiny of America in the past, and to the youth of today who will shape the destiny of America in the future. Tonight, Cavalcade presents one of the most prominent actors of our time, Claude Raines, in the role of Benedict Arnold. In the theater, Mr. Raines has distinguished himself in many plays and achieved his widest acclaim in They Shall Not Die. In motion pictures, he has been widely hailed for his performances in Four Daughters, White Banners, and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. He makes one of his infrequent radio appearances tonight in the title role of the Cavalcade of America's dramatization, The Story of Benedict Arnold, who twice saved and then once betrayed his country. Many historians now believe that the turning point in America's struggle for independence was the Battle of Saratoga, and that the hero of that battle was General Benedict Arnold. After Saratoga, Benedict Arnold retired to his sister Hannah's home in New Haven to recuperate from a leg wound. There one afternoon. Yes, sir, that show is a fine uniform, General Arnold. It sure is. Like it, Punch? Yes, sir. I like them gold things on your shoulders and them tassels. Who you say give them to you, Master? In Washington, send me those epaulets and the sword knots too, Punch. Master, if you don't hurry back to your bed, Miss Hannah's going to scalp me bald when she come back here. You know, she told me... Why, you leave, Hannah, to me. I'll handle my sister, Punch. Maybe, Master. What's that, Punch? Nothing, Master. What's the name of that place where you hurt your leg? Now, that was a battle, all right. That was the Battle of Saratoga. I saved the day, Punch, and I took... Benedict, have you lost your senses completely? Get right back in bed where you belong. Hannah, I refuse to be imprisoned in that luxurious coffin any longer. I want action. You've been drinking that vile rum too when the doctor said you were not. I can't find that quack. I know more about medicine than they do. I know what's good for me, Hannah. Why don't you be sensible, Benedict? Is it too much to ask you to think twice? I don't have to think twice when I know I'm right. General Washington needs me, Hannah. Does he need someone like you who'll rush off headlong and not cooperate? I wish you'd turn your talents to working hand in hand with your superiors instead of spouting off that you could beat the British single-handed. Oh, no, leave it to you. You'll do it all alone. If I had the authority over those cautious thunderheads, I might. Very well. You're brilliant, Benedict. Perhaps you're too brilliant. And is that supposed to make sense? It makes sense, all right. It's what the family's always been afraid of. I don't know where your conceit will lead you. Oh, enough of the lecture, Hannah. Now, what's that newspaper you've got? Oh, you can read it later after you've quieted down. Oh, you're keeping something from me, Hannah. What is it? Well, you promised not to lose your temper. Hannah, what does that paper say? Congress has elected five major generals. Five? Who are they? Sterling, Lutheran, St. Clair, Stephen and Lincoln. No more? And every one of those men is my junior in rank. Perhaps the printer made a mistake. Oh, no, he made no mistake. I made a mistake staying here as long as there's punch. Punch! Yes, sir, Master. What are you going to do now? Punch, tell Sandra to bring the carriage. I'm going to General Washington. Benedict. I know what I'm doing, Hannah. I'm going to headquarters if Punch has to push me in a wheelbarrow. What you told me is very interesting, General Arnold. General Washington, I'm sorry that you had to hear it from me. Those are the facts. I wanted you to know what they are. I regret I had to mention myself so much. Well, I knew the friends of General Gates would claim their credit to set a total point. I understand what you mean, Arnold. Some of the same men have been conspiring against me. Our friends in Congress. General Washington, I'll resign my commission. Now, wait, Arnold. We must put aside our personal grievances. We have a common cause to fight for. Let's win it together, Arnold. Thank you, General Washington. Now, let's get down to our business. Should the enemy evacuate Philadelphia? If they don't, I'll drive them out. I have determined to give you the command of our capital city. It's an important post, Arnold, and you're the man for it. That is, if that leg of yours will permit. Thank you, sir. Oh, don't you worry about my leg. I'll throw away this cane in a few months. By in six months, General Washington, I'll be dancing Philadelphia. You mustn't hold my hand so tightly, General Arnold. Everyone is watching. With envy, Peggy. No other maid is half as lovely. I'm an eunuch to such praise, sir. I wonder. I know of a certain British officer who accustomed you to the highest kind of praise. Any gentleman among the British were charming and attentive. It wasn't the most attentive, the handsome Captain John Andre, the man who so ardently desired you to be his wife. I did remember a Captain Andre, until a great American general put him out of my mind. Peggy, darling. Please, Benedict. Let's go out on the balcony. Peggy, you've made me afraid of questions. Why, Benedict? Well, I can't offer you a title, Peggy. My fortune is only a soldier's pay. A soldier's pay? And all the magnificence of this ball you're giving to me? What I lack in fortune, Peggy, I make up in boldness. Oh, yes, that's a credit. No. All I have is an untarnished soul. And a future as bright as the sun. This you consider either better than a loving heart, Peggy. Yes. Will you marry me? Yes. I love you enough to be lonely, Benedict. Lonely? Isn't that always the fate of a soldier's wife? And more so when that soldier is ambitious. Oh, here you are, General. Dreaming with a lady beneath the moon, eh? Oh, good evening, General. Good evening, Miss Peggy. I want to talk to General Arnold. You may stay here, please. Arnold, as President of the Pennsylvania Council, I have a right to talk to you about these disgraceful food profiteers. We'll talk about it tomorrow, sir. We'll talk about it now, if you don't mind, General Arnold. The Council wants every food shop closed. If that doesn't teach them a lesson, a lot of us will see to it the pirates hang. Will you be good enough to excuse us, President Leeds? Excuse you? I have the honor to be Miss Shippen's partner for this figure. Is that so? The Supreme Executive Council of Pennsylvania passes an order. I sign it. But Arnold, the almighty military governor, is too busy dancing with a tori. It's all right, Peggy. It's all right. As your host, sir, I bid you good evening. General Arnold, you'll find out who gives orders in Philadelphia. Good evening, sir. President Breed, could I presume to take a few minutes of your time? Well, what is it, Matlick? Allow me to present my son, Timothy, sir. This is a great honor, sir. Thank you, boy. Thank you. Well, I've got to get out your book. I've got work to do. Good day, my lad. Good day. But this has to do with General Arnold, sir. Oh, you see, Timothy's had rough treatment from the general. Indeed. Sit down, my boy, and tell me about this. Well, sir, you see, I'm in the militia. I was on orderly duty outside General Arnold's headquarters. Housemaid opens the door and says, Major Frank needs a shave. Go along and fetch the barber. Yes. Go on, son. Go on. Well, isn't that enough, sir? Don't you see? Major Frank needs a shave. Go along and fetch the barber. What about it? Why, my son had to take orders from a housemaid, sir. Major Frank's is General Arnold's aide. Oh, of course. Well, thank you, my boy. You'll not have to suffer menial duties at Arnold's pleasure any longer, I assure you. Thank you, my boy. Thank you. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Matlick. Get out the book. Yes, sir. Take your quill and add this to the list of complaints against General Benedict Arnold. This will be number eight, Matlick. Yes, sir. Write the charges out for me to sign. I'll have Arnold tried for them. He'll find out who's running Philadelphia. Oh, boy. Mrs. Arnold? Oh, Captain Perrow. Mrs. Arnold, the trial is over. Well, that's a blessing anyway. Now we can go home. General Arnold is coming directly to us. Yes, yes, I see him. He's coming now. Please go, Captain. Thank you. Good day, Mrs. Arnold. Hunch, hunch. I'll drive us home. Yes, sir, sir. Get up here. Barking dogs, pinheaded runderers. Convict me of falling groceries in public wagons, eh? Darling, don't mind. Reprimand from General Washington. Stinking scouts trying to cover up their putrid stench that way. Black-hearted vultures. Benedict. Stupid long-nosed curs, nuzzling for rattles. Civil authority, eh? Rotten political scoundrelism. You mustn't feel that way about it. I'll be sorry for one of them. I'll regret this to their dying day. Arnold, I don't understand this request. West Point. There's nothing to do there. I've always thought of you as a man of action. Well, I'm sorry. There's nothing to do there. Well, West Point is a vital post, General Washington. If we lose it, we'd be cut in two. It's not that important, and we couldn't lose it anyway. Haven't I been crucified enough, sir? At any rate, until I can convince you that it is important, give me command of the post of West Point until my wound is healed. Very well, Arnold. I was hoping for better things for you. I don't understand this, but West Point's what you want. You can have it. Benedict, it's so late, darling. You look awfully tired. No, just a few minutes, Peggy. I've got to write another letter. To them? Yeah. The last one. I'm offering West Point to the British for 20,000 pounds. Major Andre? At your service, sir. You know what we are to do. I have my orders, sir. Have I your commander's word that he agrees to my terms? We will pay your price. 20,000 pounds if we succeed, half that if we fail. Good. Major Andre, tonight I'll take you to a friend's house. You'll be quite safe there. And we can talk better there. My orders were not to go inside American lines. Well, you've got nothing to fear. You must take my word for it. Oh. Thank you. I... Well, I mean I'll give you a pass. In the name of John Anderson, there is my part of the bargain. The plans of West Point. Here, take them. My orders were not to accept any papers, General Arnold. I'm afraid you have no choice, Major Andre. Very well, sir. I'll take the papers. Well, I know it's very early in the day, gentlemen, but I'm always reminded of breakfast of an old story. Now, oddly enough, it has nothing to do with eating breakfast, except that I enjoy them both together. Let's hear it, General Arnold. Well, I knew a farmer who was walking along one of those quiet, sheltered country lanes in Connecticut one afternoon. General Arnold. Excuse me, General, what is it, Major? This report just changed it. A British spy has been captured. His name is John Anderson. Anderson? Let me see. Well, is anything the matter, General? Huh? Oh, no, no, no. It's a routine matter. Where was I? You were telling the story of the farmer, General Arnold. Oh, yes, yes. Yes. Well, this farmer, he was walking down the road. He met one of his field hands, you see, and he said, Look at that beautiful sky. There's nothing more beautiful than the setting sun. And the field hands said, That ain't no setting sun. That's your home burning down. Now, I'm sorry, General, excuse me. I've got to speak to my wife. Major. Yes, sir. Please order the barge to stand by. I'll take care of it, General. Do it at once. Yes? Eggy, I must speak to you. Of course, dear. What is it? Andre has been captured. No. Oh, no, no, I don't believe it. No, no, no, no, stop it, Eggy, be quiet. I can't, I'm so... Put yourself together. Listen, Washington is on his way here, and by now he knows all about it. Washington, what are you doing? I must go at once. What will I do? What will I... I swear you know nothing. Have aesthetics. Do anything. Hate. But I can't stay here and face Washington. Now, goodbye, my darling. Where will I come to you? Oh, I don't know. Only come. Come when I tell you. I'll meet you. Desperately. Don't be sad, darling. Think this boat is carrying us to a new life in England. A new life? Does anybody ever have a new life? Darling, don't think of the past. You've served the King. Surely they won't forget that. In London you'll be a hero. A hero? Look, Peggy, America is growing smaller and smaller. Look at it now, Peggy. Look at it. As long as you can. We'll never see it again. Mr. Speaker, Member for Kensington. Mr. Speaker, in view of the recent developments in France, I think His Majesty's government... Benedict, isn't it exciting being in the House of Commons? What does all this talk mean? England will probably form a military coalition against France, and they'll be leading men with army experience, Peggy. You'll see. Who's speaking now? Oh, I don't know. Somebody important, I'm sure. Mr. Speaker, Member for Dover. Mr. Speaker, as important as this discussion is, it should only be for Britain's ears. Therefore, I move, Mr. Speaker, that we discontinue any discussion in the House of Commons, as long as a seat in the Spectator's Gallery is occupied by General Benedict Arnold. Why Benedict? Let's get out of here. Come on. Come along, Peggy. Come on, hurry. Excuse us. Please, we'll excuse you, sir. I'm sorry, General Arnold. The Duke of York is too busy to see you. I've been here so many times. Please, will you remind His Highness I've been waiting for three hours? His Royal Highness knows that, General Arnold. When is the first time he'll be free today? I'm sorry, sir, I cannot say. Perhaps late this afternoon. All right, I'll wait. Your Royal Highness, I've come to offer my services to my country. Your country? Which country do you mean now, Mr. Arnold? Well, I've heard of the coalition. England and France will soon be at war. I'm ready to accept any sort of command. You have, you have forced this interview. I will be frank. What you ask is impossible. Impossible, Your Highness? Mr. Arnold, no British officer would serve with you. Excuse me, sir. Have I the permission to sit at your table? Be seated, Monsieur, be seated. Thank you, sir. I am delighted to talk to somebody. Oh, this English nation. What food and weather. One sauce, one weather. And both miserable. And on top of it, I must go to America. America? Oh, but one time I, I lived in America. What fortune, Monsieur. Allow me to give to you my count. I am the Count Maurice Charles de Talleyrand. Yes, yes, Count Talleyrand. Perhaps you would be so kind as to give me an introduction to some of your eminent countrymen. Sir, I am the only American in the world who cannot give you letters to any man in his own country. Sir Benedict Arnold. Look, Peggy. Graves in Westminster Abbey. What a place. A reflection on the States. Remember yours, Peggy? That night at the ball in Philadelphia? Oh, Benedict. I do. You said I did remember Captain Andre until a great American general put him out of my mind. Oh, don't. Stop it, darling, please. Here we are. The plaque to the memory of Andre, surrounded by the greatest names in English history. Look. Inscription. No, no. Sacred to the memory of Major John Andre, who fell a sacrifice for his zeal to his king and his country, age 29. Universally beloved. What a fool you were to marry me, Peggy. Instead of a hero. Darling, try to rest. Peggy. Yes, dear? Is, um, is Punch still there? Yes, sir, master. I still am. All I've left. Peggy. This is the end. It's over. And I'm glad it is not. No. No, don't say it, darling. What have I ever offered you all these years? Shave? Disgrace. Now there's nothing left. Peggy. Yes, darling? Peggy. Will you have Punch bring me the epaulets and sword knots General Washington gave me? Yes, darling, I will. I am. I want to die in my old uniform, Peggy. May God forgive me for putting on any of that. For the man who betrays his country, there is no peace. And for Benedict Arnold, there is no place in the cavalcade of America. Ladies and gentlemen, the star of tonight's cavalcade, Claude Raines. In playing Benedict Arnold, the truth of what his life teaches us came pretty sharply home to me. You see, I, well, I imagine all of us should be reminded that a man without honor or love of country has no place without a man. And if I've conveyed this feeling to listeners, then I should feel proud of having played this role in the cavalcade of America. Thank you, Claude Raines. We are proud to have you as our guest tonight. Ladies and gentlemen, we hope you've enjoyed our cavalcade story. And now here's our story from the wonder world of chemistry. Our story about chemistry takes us back to the city of London in the year 1856. In a small back room of a London dwelling, a 17-year-old boy is fussing with chemicals in test tubes. A laboratory? Yes, a homemade chemical laboratory. The hobby of this boy of 17, William Perkin. Young Perkin is trying to make quinine chemically. Quinine, a drug obtained from nature, is used for treating malaria. To find out how to make it instead of depending upon tropical trees would be a valuable discovery. So Perkin, knowing that the formula is similar to certain coal tar products, is working with a coal tar substance called aniline. The experiment seems to be going wrong. He finds he has a messy-looking purplish material. But our 17-year-old student has a trait in common with all great chemists, curiosity. He doesn't throw the stuff away. Instead, he wonders what this strange purple substance might do. Will it color a piece of cloth? He tries it on silk. It works. That was the discovery of the first coal tar dye 84 years ago, the beginning of dyes made by chemistry, dyes that are better and less expensive than the ones men used to get from nature. For nearly 60 years after Perkin's discovery, right up to 1914, the world supply of dyes came largely from Europe. The United States made less than 10 percent of the dyes it needed, and these largely from chemicals that came from Germany. To solve this national emergency, DuPont, together with several other American chemical companies, set out to build a new American dye industry from the ground up. For five years, DuPont's part of this costly enterprise operated at a great loss. How well those chemists finally succeeded is shown by the fact that today, American textile manufacturers can get all the dyes they need right here at home. These American dyes are as good or better than those produced in any foreign country. And equally important, the jobs of American workers no longer depend on a supply of dyes from abroad. Today, as you use fabrics dyed to suit your taste, you may think kindly of that young Englishman who later was knighted. To honor his name, the American section of the Society of Chemical Industry now makes an annual award called the Perkin Medal for Outstanding Services in Applied Chemistry. For the year 1939, this medal was presented to Dr. Charles M.A. Stein, who is responsible for general supervision of DuPont's research. So the fine tradition of William Perkin is carried forward in the spirit of the DuPont pledge, better things for better living through chemistry. And now the cavalcade of America's historian, Dr. Frank Monahan of Yale University. In the sweeping pageant of America are many figures, statesmen, soldiers, scientists, engineers. But there are others who take an honored place in the midst of them. These are the poets and the musicians. They care little who writes a nation's laws or wins its battles. If only they can sing its songs. Next week, cavalcade presents the colorful melodies of America's first troubadour, Stephen Foster. Ill-prepared as he was to cope successfully with the rugged, robust America of his day, he yearned for and found the companionship of those he called the dear friends and gentle hearts. Through him, America became articulate in the universal language of music. For it was Stephen Foster who sang of romantic America and who gave us America. American songs to sing. In our musical cavalcade next week, we will present the distinguished American playwright, lecturer, and author, Channing Pollock, in a tribute to Stephen Foster. The orchestra and the original musical effects on the cavalcade of America are under the direction of Don Boreas. Cavalcade wishes to thank the Clements Library of the University of Michigan for material used in tonight's story, Benedict Arnold. This is Basil Rysdale saying good night and best wishes from DuPont. Applause Music This is the National Broadcasting Company.
