The DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware, makers of better things for better living through chemistry, presents the cavalcade of America. Tonight's star, Louis Calharn. Mr. Calharn can currently be seen with Ann Harding in the Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer production, The Magnificent Yankee. Tonight's DuPont cavalcade is called Quail Off and stars Louis Calharn as Samuel Malford. Time, the early 1700s, place, one of the coldest, loneliest coasts in America, the Amigans at shore in the Hampton plantations of Long Island. On the hummock above the surf stands a hut, open to the freezing December winds, facing the great waves that pound in from Portugal. A watcher for Quail peers into the wind-free blast and yonder, beyond the smother of the bar, his watch is rewarded. Two thin jets of water rise, fall, rise again. Stiff fingers fasten a square of cloth to a halyard and up on a pole above the hut goes the whet, the signal. And into the Atlantic gale, the watcher hurls his own wild alarm, Quail Off! Quail Off! Plumping, stumbling headlong over the dunes toward East Hampton, the watcher hurries to bring his message of perilous work to be done. In the settlement as yet, all is quiet. At the home of Samuel Malford, we encounter a rare occasion. Sam has a visitor from New York. Young Mr. Weldon, a stranger traveling, he says, for travel's sake, has accepted the hospitality of East Hampton's leading citizen. And how many whales did you say, sir, were taken here last year? I did not say, Mr. Weldon, as I remember. Goes against God to count whales. But surely, Mr. Malford, some accounting is kept of these thrilling captures, these royal fish. You must keep account books of some sort. No, no, no, no, no books. Don't believe in them. Martha? Yes, cousin? Mr. Weldon would like some more samp. To be sure. We'll make a real long islander of Mr. Weldon, yes. Oh, no, thank you, Miss Malford. No more samp, please. Sir, my curiosity concerning the whale fishery may seem strange to you and your cousin. No, no, no, not at all. But you see, I am writing a journal of my travel. Timothy, where is that boy? Here I am, Father. Do you keep account books, Timothy? Have you been counting whales behind my back? No, Father. Matthew now, Matthew, you suppose he keeps books? You boys wouldn't be deceiving your poor old father, would you? Putting numbers down on little books, eh? Ciphering Leviathan? Of course not, Father. Ah, you see, Mr. Weldon, no books. Oh, by the way, did I ever tell you about the fastest whale we ever struck? Why, no, I don't believe you did. Happened a brace of years back just off Montauk Point. My, that was a fast moving whale. Three full hours after we said our iron enemy was towing us so fast, two of the Indians had their hair blown off. I see. Scalps, too, right to the bone. My cousin Jed, he lost his eyebrows. Saved his eyelashes, though. Yes, well, I... Did I tell you our boat was painted green? Green? Green, indeed? Green she was, sir. Green as green, the most green sort of green. Well, sir, after we'd been towed for five hours, faster and faster, I looked back over my shoulder and there was another green boat following right in our wake, coming directly upon us. Hadn't seen her before, didn't know where she could have come from. You know what had happened, Mr. Weldon? I'm sure I couldn't venture to... Took me some little time to work it out myself. What had happened was that whale had pulled us so dumb fast, she'd pulled us right out of our paint. Yes, yes, truly a marvel, sir. Oh, I tell you... And I rather marvel even more that a man of your advanced year should venture forth upon the deep in so perilous an occupation. I don't hunt whales anymore. I'm just a poor, tired old man fit only to sit here by the fire and dream. I can't even keep books. More samp, Mr. Weldon. No, no, no, I thank you. No. Better than roast beef, I always say. Tuck! What was that? I heard nothing. But I did. I hear it first, always. Timothy, I'll wager the west is up. Listen. Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Martha, wake up the Indians. See that they get their rum and head them for the beach. Tim, where's Matthew? Where's your brother, boy? It was Matt who was on watch. Good. I'll meet the two of you at the boat. Off you go. Oh, oh, Mr. Weldon, you will excuse me, I'm sure. Martha will attend to your wishes as my guest. But, sir, you have just finished saying that... Pardon me, sir. I have an appointment with a royal fish. Off I am against it! My dear Mr. Weldon, you appear astonished. But your cousin said he... Mr. Malford told me he was too old to... My cousin is a most unusual old man. Unusual is scarcely the word. Why should he... Make a fool of you, Mr. Weldon. Make a... well, of all the outrage, I shall leave at once, Mr. Malford. Do you not wish to learn why Cousin Samuel spoke as he did? No, no, I do not. I... I... well, why did he, Miss Malford? Because he has known ever since you came to East Hampton three days ago that you are a spy for the royal governor in New York. Why, I... Yes, a spy, and worse, a tax collector. More stamps, Mr. Weldon. Stamps, stamps, stamps! Maria, are you leaving us, Mr. Weldon? Confounded mush! But through the icy surf go the village boats out beyond the bar in December seas on the track of the world's biggest game and the most dangerous. It is old Sam Malford who leads the chase, and when the whales are killed and beached, it's Sam who presides, as the whole village, men, women, and children slice up the huge bulk at the cutting in and then cart the blubber away to be boiled. Mr. Weldon wouldn't care for the odor that rises from the great boiling kettles, but... Ah, beautiful, beautiful as nothing like boiling blubber. A most satisfying aroma, friend Miller. She'll run to 48 barrels in my reckoning. Ah, good, good. Ah, Sam, think you'll hear more from your guest, Mr. Weldon? Of a certain taste, though not in his own person. I've fed him not but cold porridge for three days. I told him samp was the true and only food of whale chasers. When I saw him last, he was turning green. Where are you scurrously hospitable, Sam? Hardly Christian charity. Oh, well, how did you know his purpose? Oh, it was easy to guess. I'd seen the poor toady mincing about the governor's palace when last I was in New York. A secretary's secretary or some such dancer prancer. The new governor will give us trouble, think you'll. I'm sure of it. When Weldon makes his report to Governor Hunter. Oh, yes, there'll be trouble then. And so, my dear Weldon, and in short, you have had occasion to use three full weeks in returning from the East Riding of Long Island. But Your Excellency, the snows were most troublesome and I was ill. A digestive disturbance, Your Excellency, a flux. Your report, sir, is entirely unsatisfactory. But I... I asked for exact account of the whale fishery. You bring me nothing but vague generalities. But Your Excellency, these people are as close-mouthed as the very clams they dig. I could not learn the extent of their whaling, but that it still exists and flourishes, I saw with my own eyes. Well, they shall ignore my tax at their peril. Their leader, you say, is this Samuel Malfoy? No, sir, a most eccentric old man, Your Excellency. We'll put a stop to his eccentricities, perhaps to his person. As for you, my dear Weldon, we shall require your services no longer. But Your Excellency, where shall I go? To the devil, if you please, but take your silly pale chops out of my sight. Hear ye, hear ye, by order of His Excellency the Royal Governor, a tax of one quarter. The 20th part is hereby decreed upon the product of all whale fish, taken by Her Majesty's subjects in the plantations of East Hampton, South Hampton, and South Old. God save Queen Anne! Hear ye! Well, Sam? Well, Donald? Scrap is crackling in the kettle now, Sam. What shall we do? Some will pay the tax, some will cease to fish for whale. I can only speak for myself and for my sons. On your own course, Sam? I shall hunt whale dental as long as I can lift the harping eye, and I shall pay no tax on oil or bone. In our own government here, the taxes we levy upon ourselves, those taxes I pay. Not cheerfully, mind you, but willingly enough. This new tax, never voted by our people, has no right in the Queen's law. I fear the Governor will make his own right. Let him read the patent by which we hold these lands from the old King. Seventy years ago, in that patent, it was written down, they shall have also right to go out upon the seas adjacent to their lands to take and kill whales and other fishes, and the captors to have all they kill. We'll think you, the Governor, has read our patent. I shall call it most forcefully to his attention. If I am disturbed in my task of earning my bread upon the waters, I shall carry my plea, if it be necessary, to the Queen's own door in London town. After Governor Hunter's tax was proclaimed, Sam Malford was elected by his neighbors to the New York Colonial Assembly, representing what was then called the East Riding of Yorkshire on Long Island. When he spoke against the Governor, he was expelled by a subservient legislature and arrested for libel. When he took a whale and refused to pay the tax, he was harassed through four terms of court, denied a jury trial, convicted and fined for, quote, converting the Queen's goods to his own use. The Queen's goods, the Queen's goods! Did the daughter of Jamie Stewart fashion the whales in the sea then, and give them tails? Does she order them about and bid them sound or run with a line as she pleases? Now, Samuel. It is an abomination, cousin. It is not to be borne. Still, it appears we must bear it. But not in silence. Not in silence. I will not be silenced. Cousin, I am going to London. But father, what good would it do? You alone among the great crowds at court, the great lords and the... I can make myself heard in the Gansett surf, Timothy. I shall make myself heard in London. Well, I fear to say the words, father, but... What? I am too old? Is that it? I am young enough to head a boat. I am young enough to plunge a harping iron into the height of the great sea beast. But I am too old to face down the lords of trade in London. The boy didn't mean that, cousin. I know what he wished to say. There is no money for passes. I'll harpoon the money. The Queen's offshore goods shall pay my way to the Queen's court. Dan Miller's sloop often goes to Newport. I'll walk from Newport to Boston. By heaven, Martha, I am angry enough right now to roll from here to London. And back! When Sam Malford finally did reach London after actually walking from Newport to Boston, he was 71 years old and Queen Anne was dead. Dead as Queen Anne. Among the ministers and the ministries of her successor, George I, Sam Malford at the outset made little headway. The name once more, if you please, my good man. As I told you half hour ago, my name is Samuel Malford. I come from the east riding of Yorkshire and North America upon a very important matter. I wish to see Lord Stanhope at once. My Lord Stanhope sees no one save by previous appointment. But how can I have a previous appointment if you refuse to arrange one for me? Tut, tut, my good man, I am never permitted to make engagements for my Lord Stanhope. I regret to inform you, Mr. Malford, that my Lord Townsend can see no one. He is at present in chamber with my Lord Stanhope. Mr. Sandys has informed me, sir, that Mr. Wheatfield has told him that my Lord Winters is at the moment taking the waters at Bath. So sorry. Mr. Blake, oh, you there, Mr. Blake, hold up. Oh, it's you, Malford. Now, my good man. No, no, no, don't good man me. See here, I paid you 50 pounds to get me into the offices of the Lords of Trade. I find I'm still left to cool my heels at the door of every scented scoundrel in this gin-ridden, foul, godless cesspool of a town. Patience, patience, my dear sir, patience. I too have been in search of you this day. A very good friend of Lord Stanhope's secretary, a lady, you understand, has informed me that she can arrange an appointment at once. How much? Oh, a mere three pounds, sir. The lady is modest in her demands. Blake, if I didn't trust the people that sent me to you, I'd take you for a cheat. Well, however, when in Rome... Oh, wait. Good Lord. What's wrong? My wallet, sir. It's gone. Stolen. Alas, my good Malford, in London our pickpockets at least are most efficient. Next day, Sam took another stroll along the teeming strand. Another pickpocket tried his luck on the tempting, countrified figure of Samu. But this time... Out! Out! Got you. Come along now. Which way to the officer of the wats? Come along. March! My dear, the old man is simply priceless. It seems he lined his pockets with fish hooks. Fish hooks, indeed. And he caught five thieves in one day, all between Fleet Street and St. Paul's. That's the talk of the town, really it is. And the stories he tells. You simply must meet old man Malford at Lady Mary Montague's house tonight. Well, do you know what had happened, Lady Mary? Mr. Malford, I haven't the faintest notion where that green boat came from. Well, it took me some little time to work it out myself. What had happened was that whale had pulled us so dumb fast, he pulled us right out of our paint. Well, my lady? I don't believe it, Mr. Malford. I don't blame you because it never happened. But you're the first person I've met in London, man or woman, who has doubted that cheap old tale. You're as clever as your beautiful, my lady. Oh. Why, you do fine in East Riding. Well, there's a pretty compliment. I fear you're learning our decadent ways, Mr. Malford. No, no, no. Not fast enough, my lady. I've set myself to learning, but it's slow work. Well, perhaps I can help you. Oh, oh. Yes, I think I can. The man you need to know is Sir Robert Walpole. Another, my lord? If you will excuse me, lady, no. Walpole's no prancing dandy of a favorite, Sam. May I call you Sam? Oh, please do. It sounds like home. Well, Sam, Walpole's the coming man. He's a tough Norfolk squire. He's not even a minister yet, but he's the power behind the throne. Oh, good. Do you know him, my lady? I know every one of importance, Sam. That's my way of, well, of living. I think you understand. That's why I asked you to my house. Oh? I'm a manner of a talking bear, eh? A curiosity plucked out of the city's muck. Do you really mind, Sam? Yes. Yes, I do. I've put myself on exhibition, but only because I must to gain my end. But why should you help me? Because you had the same thing the whale had, Sam. The thing that made the whale pull the boat right out of its pace. What might that be? Strength, Sam. Strength of character. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. Oh. You can spare me the general picture, Mr. Mulford. I'm already familiar with the difficulties that have arisen between Governor Hunter and the whale fishery in the East Riding. No. Sir Robert, you are the first man I've met in London town who knows that the North American colonies even exist. Oh, really? Well, I have made the king's business my own business, sir. The Lords of Trade have received communications about you from Governor Hunter, and I've read them. The governor describes you as a troublesome old man. And he describes me well. I am a great disturber of the peace for governors, sir Robert. Did his excellency have any other kind words to say about me? Yes, yes, he did. I'm afraid he says also that you are a crazy old man, Mr. Mulford. Crazy enough to kill some 300-odd whales over 50 years offshore. No, really? Crazy enough to find you by way of Lady Mary Wortley Montague here in this foggy maze of London. Yes, crazy enough to try, Mulford. Well, that's the sort of madness I can enjoy, being somewhat mad in that same kind myself. Well, now, Mulford, if you will prepare a memorial on the injustices you claim are exercised against the East Riding by Governor Hunter, I shall take care that your words receive a hearing in the House of Commons. Oh, good fine. Yes, I'm afraid that will do you little or no good. It's safe to cause a small stir by way of advertisement. But I shall also undertake to make sure that the King hears your cause in German through a charming member of his German harem. That may help a little. But most important, I shall take certain other steps myself, which, yes. Well, Mulford? Sir Robert. Yes? To me, sir, and you'll pardon a colonial bumpkin, to me you have the look of a gentleman who appreciates the joys of the table. And come to the Long Island, sir. Come in the summertime. No whales then, but our long-short dinners, clam chowder, baked oysters, steamed clams, yellow sweet roasted corn, lobsters, crab meat, bluefish, buckets of beer. Old man, old man, almost you persuade me. But as I conceive it, I have another duty. It is my sad luck to sit here in Whitehall and appear foolish enough to guide these fools and their stupid German King. Well, if you should change your mind. Would you give me a seat in your boat, Sam, to hunt for whales? That I would, sir, that I would. I shall ever treasure the compliment. And now, good day. My regards to Lady Mary Montague. Hear ye, hear ye, from this day forth the tax on whalefish is remitted. The tax is remitted. Be it known to His Majesty's subject that it is ever the purpose of His Majesty and His ministers to sustain forward and encourage the taking of whale upon the coasts of the North American continent. God save King George. God save you. Well, Samuel, you are satisfied, I hope. Satisfied, oh, yes, I suppose so. I'm glad to be home and I'm so tired. Martha. Yes, Samuel. I am tired. Six months in London at my age, cow-towing, bowing here, bowing there, my lord, this, my lord, that, I, oh, I am tired, cousin. Aren't we all, Samuel? Governor hunt us out, Governor Burnett is in, so the world wags. Sam, five whale were taken between Montauk Point and First House the week before you came back. Oh, I'm no good for the boats now, cousin, too old, too old. Can you see this old carcass in the surf? You remember Abigail Baker, she that married Daniel Hedges over in Sag Harbor? Oh, little Abby, to be sure. Last winter, riding the beach from here to Bridgehampton, Abby sighted 13 whale offshore. She gave the alarm, all 13 were taken. Abby's share came to a tidy sum. Woman, woman, why do you plague me with whale? Can't you see I'm too old and too tired for the offshore game? If there were a thousand right whales breaching and scratching themselves now off against the wind, I'd sit right here. Hark! Martha. Yes, Samuel. Do you hear it, cousin? I hear the wind, only the wind. The weft is up, the weft is up. I heard no cry. But I did, I did. Be quiet, woman. Whale off, whale off. I hear it first, always. I still hear it first. Sam, you're not going. Yes, I've got to go, Martha, even if it's the last time. It may be the last time. Yes, yes, I know. Goodbye, Martha. Goodbye, Sam. Take care of yourself. Whale off. All thanks to me, Sam. All thanks to Louis Calharn and the Cavalcade players for tonight's DuPont Cavalcade. Ladies and gentlemen, Louis Calharn. I know that my friends from the stage and screen who've appeared on this program were as pleased as I was to learn that Cavalcade received another important Freedoms Foundation Award last week. This foundation gave first place among radio programs to Cavalcade for its achievements in bringing about a better understanding of the American way of life. This is a top award and I think you'll agree that it's deserved recognition for a fine program. Congratulations, Cavalcade. Thank you. Next week, the DuPont Cavalcade of America stars Robert Cummings with Juano Hernandez in a heartwarming story of the South, Uncle Yuri's Dollar. We invite you to listen. This DuPont Cavalcade was written by George H. Faulkner based on material in the book Whale Off by Everett Joshua Edwards and Janet Edwards Rafferay and also from the book New England Whalers by J.R. Spears. Music was composed by Arden Cornwell, conducted by Donald Borey's. The narrator, Cy Harris. The program was directed by John Zoller. Don't forget next week, Robert Cummings and Juano Hernandez. The DuPont Cavalcade of America comes to you from the Belasco Theater in New York and is sponsored by the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware, makers of better things for better living through chemistry.
