 Family Theater in just a moment, but first an invitation to listen in on Mutual's party line every Saturday night for programs the whole family will enjoy. Comedy of Errors gives you a zany half hour of hilarity as contestants try to spot Jack Bailey's deliberate mix-ups. The favorite parlor quiz, 20 Questions, brings the animal, vegetable, and mineral game, New Sparkle, as the experts and guest Kai Gibi try to identify Bill Slater's subject in only 20 Questions. And Chicago Theater of the Air sends a full hour of the world's favorite music singing your way. For Family Party Night Listening, tune to Mutual every Saturday night for Comedy of Errors, 20 Questions, and Chicago Theater of the Air. Family Theater presents Claudette Colbert, Robert Ryan, and Jane Wyatt. In cooperation with Family Theater presents Robert Ryan and Jane Wyatt in The Lady with a Lamp. To introduce the drama, your hostess, Claudette Colbert. Thank you, Tony LaFranco. Family Theater's only purpose is to bring to everyone's attention a practice that must become an important part of our lives if we are to win peace for ourselves, peace for our families, and peace for the world. Family Theater urges you to pray, pray together as a family. It is to see her. She speaks to one and nods and smiles to many more. But she cannot do it to all, you know. We lay there by hundreds. But we can kiss her shadow as it falls and lay our heads on the pillow again. Content as she passes the lady with a lamp. So long as memory endures, Florence Nightingale will be best remembered by these touching words from a soldier's letter. That she should become a legend is understandable. That a driving spirit possessed her to work until her dreams were realized is perceivable. Now, driving spirits, whatever else they may be, are full of interest. And so it happens that in the real Miss Nightingale, there was even more that was interesting than in the legendary one. Therefore tonight, Family Theater takes great pleasure in bringing you The Lady with the Lamp with Jane Wyatt as Florence Nightingale and Robert Ryan as your narrator. She was born in 1820 in Florence, Italy, while her parents, like so many well-to-do English people of that time, were touring the continent. She was not a beautiful child, but even in the beginning, there was a look of dreaminess about her. Like the daughter of any wealthy Victorian family, Florence received an education to prepare her to take her place in society. Yet whenever she was supposed to be practicing the piano or studying her lessons or taking a dancing lesson, she never could be found. Instead, she would be in the stables with her dog or making a splint for his injured paw or visiting the impoverished and ill, bringing them food and medicine. Florence, where have you been this nearly a dinner time? I've been to one of the poor cottages, Father. A little girl is very sick. But I thought I gave strict orders that you were not to go among the sick. Do you wish to catch something from one of them? Father, as I came from the cottage, a voice whispered a wonderful idea in my ear. You know the house, the country house at Emily. Couldn't we turn it into a hospital? What? It would be heaven itself. And when I'm older, I could be head nurse. Florence, get rid of these queer imaginations immediately. The house at Emily will not become a hospital and you will not become a nurse. But Father, that's what I want to be. My dear, remember, it is your duty to your family, to your state of life, to make a good marriage. In this you will find happiness. I don't think so, Father. Somehow I feel God has called me for something more important. I'm not sure what it is, but this is something I feel here, inside of me. You are much too serious. But come, the dinner bell is ringing and, Flo, forget all this. Some day your Prince Charming will carry you off and then you'll look back and laugh as only one can at dreams. And Florence Nightingale did not forget them. As the years passed, her craving to be doing something useful to help those who needed help and comfort grew and grew until she could think of nothing else. By the time she was 25, she was unhappy and she knew it. Then, as her wretchedness deepened into a morbid melancholy, her family knew it. What Florence needs is a husband. With your accomplishments, Flo, there's nothing to prevent you from making a brilliant match. I am not interested in marriage. What is it you want, then, Flo? I wish to work in a hospital. Oh, Flo. Then I intend to found a school and train nurses as nurses should be trained. Florence, do you realize what you're saying? That you, a lady of your background, want to make your own living in this world? I do, Father. You disgraceous, disgraceous Flo. A nurse indeed. Perhaps a vacation will bring you to your senses. I think you're old enough now to tour the continent by yourself. But I have no interest in travel. And when you return to England, you had better forget this nursing idea of yours. Or the door to this home will no longer be open to you. Florence visited the art galleries of Paris and the cathedrals of Rome, but soon they bored her to tears. Would she dare while she was on her own visit the hospitals, the schools, the workhouses? So while she wrote letters to her family about exciting travels over the continent, she was in reality devouring reports of medical authorities and studying health conditions everywhere. It was while she was touring Italy that she met Sydney Herbert, minister to England's War Office. As you know, Mr. Herbert, our country has no more than a dozen trained nurses. Here in Europe, the only trained nurses are the Sisters of Mercy, except for those at the nursing institution at Kaiserworth, Germany. Now, my ambition is to establish just such an institution. Yes, England needs such a school. What then is holding you back? Duty to my family. No, Mr. Herbert. Now, nothing is holding me back. Nothing. The thing with Sydney Herbert in the experience Florence gained while training at Kaiserworth, and then in an English hospital, was to form the foundation of all her future. But one other trial awaited her. The allurements of the world she had brushed aside, suddenly appeared in the shape of a persistent young man. What was that feeling that swept over her? Could it be love? Oh, I'm dying. I'm dying. Come now, from a broken leg? From want of sympathy. This is a terrible place. The nurses ignore me. One in particular. Alas, I'm a prisoner of fate. Of a polo game, you mean. Furthermore, I was here just a minute ago. And Brian, you know, I can't spend all of my time with you. I have 40 other patients. 40 minor details. Is anything paining you? Only my heart. Flo, Flo, where are you going? Back to my duty. Oh, no, no. Oh, my broken leg. Oh, please, please, nurse, hold me hand. Maybe the pain will go away. Oh, you're such a poor, pathetic child. I think you'll care for me a little. But you've made me laugh. It's good to laugh now and then. Why do you take life so seriously, Flo? Do I? Very much. While I lay here in bed, I've been watching. No, no, I've been studying you. Why is it you seem to carry the world on your shoulders? You wouldn't understand. But I want to understand. I want to know all about the things that are important to you. Please tell me. All hidden ambitions. And if I should get to know you better, I will tell you about them. I hope that'll be soon, Flo. Very soon. Oh, there's nothing like a picnic to aid a convalescent. Listen to the birds. I think their song is for us. And the brook. It quietly passes by with so much politeness. Can't you hear it say, forgive me for intruding upon your holiday? Having a good time? A wonderful time. I think any change from the hostel would be wonderful, Flo. Even a bore like myself. You're not a bore. Although sometimes I almost wish that you were. Whatever do you mean by that remark, Flo? Nothing really. You're the strangest woman. I don't think I shall ever get to know you. That chance stopped me from loving you. Embly Park is beautiful, isn't it? Why do you change the subject? I'm not sure. I used to come here when I was a child, during the summer months. And you've not been back here since? No. Not since my family refuses to see me. Your family refuses to see you? Why, Flo? Why? They're against my becoming a nurse. You see, it disgraces them. I'm afraid they have my sympathy. After all, a lady in your station of life can't afford... Brian, you sound exactly like me. You sound exactly like my family. Let's not talk about it, Flo. There's something much more important I want to ask you. What? Will you marry me? Brian. I love you, Florence, and I want you to become my wife. Brian, knowing you has been wonderful. Something I'll cherish forever. But... What are you trying to tell me, Flo? There's something here inside of me. Something that requires satisfaction. I know that marriage will never give me that satisfaction. I can find it only in nursing, and the two can never meet. And all along I was fooling myself, thinking you love me. I do love you. Probably I shall never love anyone else. But not to become a nurse would be... It would be sheer suicide. Florence, do you realize what you're saying? I do. Perhaps someday I'll regret this decision, but nothing is certain to my venture. But how can it be desirable? Without nursing, I see nothing desirable but death. Years passed, and then in 1854, Florence Nightingale graduated to superintendent of nurses at King's College Hospital. Here she was training nurses on a large scale. This was what she had wanted from the very beginning. And now, her life seemed quite complete. Even her family had forgiven her. And then, England joined France and Turkey in the Crimea. Russian aggression in Europe must be stopped. England was at war. Sydney Urban, war office, London. Dear friend, I have been reading of the dreadful conditions of our military hospitals at Scootery, and wish to render my services, whereby I might take with me, a selected group of nurses. Good to see you. I came just as soon as I received your letter. Oh, you've made very good time here. Have a chair. Thank you. Mr. Herbert, I am most anxious to get down to business. Did you get the appointment? Yes, I have it for you. Oh, good. But, in a sense, that is... What do you mean? The government will give you official permission to work in the army hospital, but they will not give you financial support. I have expected it. But we will get the money somehow. Now, there is much to be done. Committees must be formed to carry out my plans. But first of all, the right nurses must be selected. And that will be difficult. There will not be many who will be willing to accept the horrors or the hardships ahead. Florence, do you feel you yourself are capable of such an undertaking? After all, you're very young, only 34. Mr. Herbert, for years I have been preparing for just such an emergency. If the war had fallen earlier, I would have lacked experience. Later, and I might have been too old. No, Mr. Herbert, I'm ready. What's more, it's my duty. Good. Now, let's say we get to work. In less than one week, Florence Nightingale was ready to sail for Constantinople. 32 nurses had been selected and trained for military duties, a large sum of money raised, and medical and hospital supplies purchased. Only a handful of people were at the docks to bid farewell to the small, courageous group of women who were giving so much for the cause of their country. Good luck, Florence. Oh, thank you, my friend. You have my greatest appreciation for everything you've done. If there's time, please keep me posted and take care of yourself. Oh, you shall receive a daily confidential report of all activities escalator aid. As for myself? Oh, I'll be too busy for anything to happen to me. God keep you, my dear. Goodbye. Sentiers of Swim, in here! Sorry, Lieutenant, you can't bring him in here. There's no more room. Where can we take them, sir? Everywhere I'm told there is no room. I've got 500 badly wounded men just off the transport. I don't know. Better take them to Barracks Hospital. Right. Have a look. Are your soldiers still walking? Help with the stretchers. Look at those men. Hundreds of them lying on the muddy ground with their wounds undressed. They must have been lying here a long time. Their uniforms are stiff with blood. And they've felt they have starved. Look at that poor fellow. He must be dying. Hey, Lily, ladies, you're blocking the way. Lieutenant, have none of these men had medical attention? That's right, ma'am. Oh, Miss Nightingale, ma'am. Shouldn't we begin at once? We will, shortly. First, we must find our barracks. Unpack our supplies and store them. We can do nothing efficiently until we know our whereabouts. Miss Nightingale? Yes? Welcome to Scootery. I'm Colonel Douglas. Oh, we are glad to see you, Colonel. I'm sorry. Just at the moment of your arrival, there must be so much confusion. You see, these men are being brought in from the Battle of Balaclava. Oh, it's ghastly. Why have they had no medical attention? We're short of doctors. Can't spare a single one for the transport. Well, if you'll tell us where we'll find our barracks, we can unpack and begin immediately to assist you. Your barracks were given over to the wounded. I'm afraid temporarily you and your nurses will have to occupy the kitchen. Nurses, our first duty is to the wounded, to release them from as much pain and suffering as possible. The vermin and filth in this hospital is outrageous. Now, there, nurses, we'll roll up our sleeves, pin up our skirts, and scrub the floors and the walls. This place must be cleaned. Dear Mr. Herbert, the horror of human suffering and scotery is greater than anyone can imagine. Send immediately 3,000 blankets, 2,000... I will assist you, Doctor. Oh, no. An operation room is no place for a woman. It is my wish to assist you, Doctor. All right. I suppose next few women will be wanting to teach the soldiers how to fight. Miss Nightingale, prepare this patient for an immediate operation. Wouldn't it be better to give him chloroform? We have none. Furthermore, it's against regulations. I have chloroform among my medical supplies, Doctor. And you will have a greater chance to save this poor fellow's life. Whatever you say, Miss Nightingale. Whatever you say. Mr. Sydney Herbert, war office, England. Dear friend, I now clothe the British army with supplies you send me. That is, after I eventually receive them. There is much red tape here which I must fight constantly, and it worries me a great deal. Every day a new shipload of wounded arrives. Four of my men, four of my nurses, and seven doctors have died from cholera. I must implore, know, demand that you send me more nurses, more doctors. Come in. You wanted to see me, Miss Nightingale? I'm very busy, Colonel Douglas. Therefore, I will come immediately to the point. Well? Medical supplies, food and clothing, which I ordered sent from England, are waiting to be unpacked in the customs house. The guard there tells me the purveyor cannot unpack these supplies until an official order is given by you. This is correct. Kindly give this order then. My hands are tired until I meet with the board of directors. Officially, the order comes from them. How long will this take? Well, the board will meet again in three weeks. Three weeks? Yes. Do you think I have time for such red tape when the sick and wounded lie half naked, shivering for want of clothing? When men are dying for lack of medical supplies? I'll not wait a day or an hour for anyone. I have not a day or an hour to waste. I'm sorry, but these are army regulations. Colonel Douglas, I will not tolerate this inefficiency. My dear Miss Nightingale, you may not wish to tolerate our inefficiency, as you put it, but I'm afraid there's nothing you can do about it. It goes there. Miss Nightingale, I've come to unpack the medical supplies. You will kindly open the door. Miss Nightingale, I told you I can't tell the provider, says... You will open the door for me, God. Look, ma'am, would you have me court-martialed? I will take entire responsibility if anything comes up. But you have no authority. In that case, I am taking the authority. These supplies will be unpacked today. Now, stand aside. Yes, ma'am. Miss Nightingale, if I may, I would like a word with you. I've been expecting you, Colonel Douglas. Be seated, won't you? Thank you. I... Oh, Colonel, may I offer you my sympathy and the death of your son? If only it could have been brought here to our hospital. Instead of Balaclava, with the help of your medical supplies, our doctors might have saved him. Yes. And if only I had the time to inspect all other hospitals in the Crimea. Miss Nightingale, I didn't realize before how important is your work in what you've done for Scootery. Rest assured in the future, you'll receive all the cooperation I can give you. I too work now to save men's lives that my son may not have died in vain. Night was upon the barracks' hospital, and everyone else had retired. Florence Nightingale, with lamp in hand, would walk through the corridors and wards among the rows and rows of overcrowded beds. Four miles of them. A long walk for the lady-in-chief to make, as she invariably did, night after night. Silently a door opens and a tiny ray of light falls across a soldier's bed. The figure enters and closes the door softly. The figure of a woman, tall and slender, dressed in black with white cap and apron. In her hand, she carries a small lamp. At the sight of her, the sick man's eyes grow bright. Slowly the lady with the lamp draws near, stopping beside each kind. Listening to the breathing of one, giving a word of encouragement to another. As she goes, her shadow falls across the sick man's pillow. He turns and kisses it, and falls happily asleep. To him, she is an angel of mercy. Continue to drive herself on and on. Twenty hours at one time, she would stand on her feet, easing the sufferers, nursing them. Would there be no end to her endurance? Nurse, patient 702 in Ward B must have a change in diet immediately. Three times a day, he is to receive... Miss Nightingale. Ma'am, what is it? What's happened? Oh, here, ma'am, grab my arm. See if you can get me to bed. I think I'm ill with the fever. For twelve days, Florence Nightingale hovered between life and death. The news spread everywhere. She was ill, was dying. When her own hospital learned of it, the sick man turned their faces to the wall and wept. And longed to give their own lives for hers, if only they might. When the truth came to her that she was never going to be strong or well again, from her bedside as now all of her work must be done, came her last demand in connection with the war, the results of which may be seen even today by any who visit that faraway land of the Crimea. On the mountain heights above Scooteray, on a peak not far from the hospital, a large white cross is to be raised, shining like snow against the blue of the sky. This be my tribute to the brave men and devoted nurses who died in this war. May they sleep in peace, knowing that while I live, I fight their cause. What a comfort it is to see her. She speaks to one and nods and smiles to many more. But she cannot do it to all, you know. We lay there by hundreds, but we can kiss her shadow as it falls and lay our heads on the pillow again, content as she passes, the lady with the lamp. This presentation of the life of a great woman. Florence Nightingale's driving courage was a powerful force in building the great profession of nursing. But now I would like to speak of another powerful force, the most powerful force in the world, prayer. Prayer is the reason this program is broadcast throughout the world. For the purpose of family theater is to help restore to homes everywhere the joy, the peace and strength that comes from daily family prayer. It's yours for the taking, so make it a part of your life. Give it a place in your home. Whatever be your creed, use prayer to strengthen your family circle. Talk to the God who made us all and loves us all. Experience what we mean when we say the family that prays together stays together. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of. Family Theater has brought you Robert Ryan and Jane Wyatt in The Lady with the Lamp with Claudette Colbert as your hostess. Others in our cast were Charlie He, Irene Tedrow, Francis X Bushman, Herb Rollinson, Tudor Owen and Collins Bain. The script was written by Dale Newton Whitney with music composed and conducted by Harry Zimmerman and was directed for Family Theater by J.F. Mansfield. This is Tony LaFranco expressing the wish of Family Theater that the blessing of God may be upon you and your home and inviting you to be with us next week at this time when Family Theater will present Stephen McNally and Gale Storm in The Foster Story. Join us, won't you? Family Theater is broadcast throughout the world and originates in the Hollywood studios of the world's largest network in the virtual broadcasting system.