 The Cavalcade of America, presented by Dupont. 1937 marks two anniversaries in the education of women. 100 years ago, 1837, saw the inauguration of college coeducation in the United States at Oberlin College, Ohio, and also the founding of Mount Holyoke Seminary, the first endowed permanent institution for the education of women in the United States. This evening, the Dupont Company presents highlights in the career of Mary Lyons, whose heroic pioneering efforts paved the way for our American women's colleges of today. The Dupont Cavalcade is proud to pay tribute to a pioneer, for pioneering is the work of the research chemist, the men who are striving to bring more comfort and conveniences into the lives of all, working always towards the goal expressed in the Dupont pledge, better things for better living through chemistry. Don Voorhees and the Dupont Cavalcade Orchestra will play as an overture, Irving Berlin's Crinolin Days from the Music Fox Review. The Dupont Cavalcade moves forward, born near Buckland, Massachusetts in 1797. In those days, only a few girls were able to receive an education, and that consisted cheaply of training and needlework, music, painting and French. At 16, Mary Lyons taught in a Buckland school for 75 cents a week plus board. By saving a little, she was able to afford a year's study at Sanderson Academy, Asheville, Massachusetts, in 1817. Our story opens as Mary Lyons enters the home of her classmate, Amanda White, to say farewell at the close of the school year. You and your father have been so kind to meet this year, Amanda. It's hard to say goodbye. Oh, it seems too bad that you can't afford another year's study, Mary. When dozens of girls defy books and remain here only because their parents wish it, perhaps I appreciate books more than many girls because I've had to work so hard. Well, nonetheless, it is unfair. I know Father agrees with me, too. Well, here he comes now to tell you so. I have news for you. Important news. News? The school board met last night, as you know, one teacher after another stood up to testify that a girl named Mary Lyons was the most brilliant scholar we ever have had at Sanderson. Oh, how wonderful. It will cheer me to remember that when I returned home. I have an idea that next year you'll not be far from Sanderson Academy, Mary. The school board, in recognition of your brilliant scholastic record, has voted you free tuition for a year. Free tuition? Oh, Mary, I'm so happy for you. Oh, I can't believe this. This is the first time free tuition has ever been granted to any student here, but we feel you deserve it. Another year at Sanderson. Oh, I fairly know how to express my gratitude. Mary, if you'll maintain the same standard of excellence you did this year, the Academy will be fully repaid. Well, one of your teachers actually said that even though you're a girl, your brain is capable of college work. Well, Squire White, I... I shouldn't be surprised if, someday, girls might be admitted to real colleges, like men. To colleges, Mary? Never. Well, I shouldn't presume to argue with you, sir, but... Well, I must say this. I disagree with you. I do believe that women's brains are capable of it. You'll discover your mistake is the years past, Mary. You happen to be the exception that proves the rule. Squire White, I believe the best way I can repay you and the other school trustees is to try to help other girls if you help me. Someday, I'm going to try to convince the people of America that women as well as men are entitled to higher education. 17 years past, during which Mary Lyon educated herself by earning her tuition as a teacher. For the time she was 30 years old, her famous teacher drew girls from every state in the union to her classroom. It is now 1834, and Mary Lyon is 37 years old. She has been conducting a seminary at Ipswich, Massachusetts. We find her entering the sitting room of Mr. Abbott, president of the Board of Trustees. Well, come in, Miss Lyon. I received your urgent message. I trust nothing is wrong at the seminary. No, the school is prospering. I came today to submit my resignation as acting head of the seminary. Well, surely you're not retiring. No, I expect to work harder than I've ever worked in my life. Well, I don't understand. Mr. Abbott, for 17 years I've possessed a dream, and I'm resounding from Ipswich Seminary to make it come true. A dream? My dream concerns the thousands of intelligent girls who are as poor as I was and who are stars for knowledge. I'm going to devote the rest of my life to helping them obtain an education. Well, just what is it you intend to do, Miss Lyon? I'm going to conduct a personal campaign throughout New England to raise $50,000 to start a girl seminary, a school whose tuition will be so low that almost any girl can attend. Well, seriously, Miss Lyon, it's impossible. I've considered this for many years, and I believe it's only very difficult, not impossible. Miss Lyon, you're the most brilliant woman I've ever known. But you make a serious mistake in assuming that other women are as eager for education as you are. I've been told that all my life, but it's made no impression on me because it isn't true. I intend to prove that the future of our country depends on the education of women. The future of the country? Oh, nonsense. Well, but Mr. Abbott, don't forget that women are the mothers and teachers of men, the future citizens of our country. Women must be educated, and the men of America in their own interest must help them obtain this education. For weeks, Mary Lyon worked on her plan, only to meet with many rebuffs. One evening in the town of Conway, Massachusetts, at a meeting she has called to explain her project, a number of townspeople are gathered. Evening, Jeff. Good evening. You come to hear Mary Lyon tell about her? Is she college? She wouldn't miss it. Best spot the town seen, the dog's age, a woman making a speech in a public meeting. It's got no modesty. It's a disgrace to Massachusetts the way she's acting in public. A man I met on the Boston stagecoach was telling me that Mary Lyon's a real lady. Heard like he put a spell on him. Said he'd give money to her for that woman's college she's aiming to build. Five dollars. She'll have to use more than black magic to get 5, 10 years out of me. But a bit hard and feathered. Signed a tough women's head with book learning. Women demanded traveling around the country by herself, making speeches about educating females. Oh, now, hush, Jeff, come here. Here she comes. Oh, she has a sweet face. She does appear to be a lady. Ladies and gentlemen, it is gratifying to see so many of you here tonight. I'm pleased but not surprised that you're interested in this cause. I'm convinced that the men of Massachusetts want to educate their daughters. Say, lady, what did they give you that idea? As you all know, there isn't a single endowed academy for young ladies in this country. All our girls' seminaries are privately owned, and the tuition for one year is more than a man pays for four years of college. Men are different. Men have a right to education. In every town and city in America, there are girls who crave knowledge and whose parents can't afford to send them to private schools. They've got no right craving schooling. Women's brains ain't fit for book learning. Oh, don't remind them to go to a highfalutin' academy. May I ask the name of the gentleman who said no daughter of his will ever go to an academy? I never have said to tell you my name, Jeff Tomkins. Thank you. Have you any sons, Mr. Tomkins? Sure have. Five of them growing up. Well, may I ask another question, Mr. Tomkins? Hey, look out, Jeff. He'll put a spell on you. He'll have you making a speech first thing you know. Do you want your sons to be educated, Mr. Tomkins? Call it a do, ladies. What's that got to do with stuffing girls' heads with book learning? Everything, Mr. Tomkins. Very few men in America today are entering the teaching profession. The salaries are too low to attract men. Do you realize that many of our teachers are women? That's a fact, yes. Mr. Tomkins, do you know that more than 10,000 teachers are needed in America at this very moment? 10,000. Over a million children in this country are growing up ignorant, illiterate even because there aren't enough teachers. Your sons may never even learn to read and write, Mr. Tomkins, if something isn't done about the education of women teachers. They are in fact writing this. The schooling of thousands of American children is in the hands of half-educated girls. Do you, Mr. Tomkins, and do all the rest of you? Want your sons to be taught by uneducated women? Say, I never thought all that. You mean girls need book learning to teach our sons? There's only one way to make sure you have good teachers. That's for the people of Massachusetts to endow a school where the tuition will be so low that any girl can attend. For years, this has been my dream. A school such as Amherst, a college for men, which is right near us. Say, Miss Lyon. Yes, Mr. Tomkins. Young demons start a regular college for females our year. I mean, young demons make them study for four years like men do. No. No, we're not planning a four-year college course for women yet. Our academy at South Hadley will have a three-year course only. But the seminary program of instruction should equal that of Amherst College. Well, I can't wait to get the question of my five sons to join a big nuns that help start this year's school. Come on to my farm in the morning, Miss Lyon. I'll go to my bank and draw $100 for you. Oh, thank you, Mr. Tomkins. If yes, Tomkins can afford $100. I guess I can, too, Miss Lyon. Thank you. Miss Lyon. Yes? My name is Miss Van Speed. Well, will you step up here a little closer? I can't hear you. My sister and I once wanted to be teachers when we were young. But now we've got a little money saved. And by pledging this to your new school, we feel that we'd be helping other girls to have better opportunities than we have. Of course, we could only pay a little at a time. You may pay the money in any way you choose, Miss Manfield. And my sincere thanks to you and your sister. Miss Lyon. Yes? I've been saving egg money for a new carpet for my house. I've got $5 so far. But if you'd accept such a small sum, I'd like to give it to you right now. Oh, thank you. And I beg you all, don't think any gift too small. So let it be gift large or small. And I'm convinced that a future generation of young women will bless you for it. As a result of Mary Lyon's persevering subscription drive, the cornerstone of the new school, Mount Holyoke, was laid on October 3rd, 1836. From Dr. Hitchcock of Amherst, Mary Lyon received valuable counsel. One day we find her inspecting the progress of the building with her loyal supporters, the Reverend Dr. Hawke, and Squire White. Why do you two gentlemen wear such long faces? For the first time in many days, I feel confident that our school will open next year. Well, Miss Lyon, as you know, I have just returned from a three-month trip attempting to collect money from Mount Holyoke. Attempting, Dr. Hawke? I don't like to tell you this, Miss Lyon. But in three months, I have not collected a single penny. What? That's not the most serious news, Mary. Well, Squire White, please tell me the rest. Mary, Dr. Hawkes and I and Dr. Hitchcock of Amherst and many other public-spirited citizens believe in your endowed seminary for girls, and above all, we believe in you. But we have come today, sadly and regretfully, to urge you to give up your dream of such a school, at least for the present. You asked me to give up Mount Holyoke? Why, we've raised more than half the necessary money. The foundation's been dug, the walls are going up. Miss Lyon, I fear you have not realized the seriousness of the financial depression which is overtaking the country. I do realize it, Dr. Hawkes. Miss Lyon, many of the men and women who made honest promises to you of money from Mount Holyoke have been ruined in the crash and will never be able to make good those pledges. Then we can't depend even on the money which has been promised. I fear not. Moreover, I find that most of the people who have contributed cash are grumbling because we've made such slow progress in building the school. They feel it will never be completed. Why, two businessmen in Boston even suggested that you return the money they gave you. Dr. Hawkes, you've not lost faith in the school, have you? I shall never lose faith in your integrity, Miss Lyon. You beg my question. Then you have lost faith. You too, fear Mount Holyoke will never be open for students. I joined Squire White in pleading with you to delay finishing the building for a few years until the depression is over. Miss Lyon? Yes, Agnes. A lady's outside to see you. She says it's important. It's about your new school. Oh, please ask her to come in. Yes, ma'am. Mary, Dr. Hawkes failed to tell you one more discouraging piece of news. Mr. Benton. Who? Mr. Benton at Boston Merchant would have promised $1,000. He refuses to contribute a penny. But why? He disapproves of your plan to have the students share in the housework. He says it sounds as if you're planning a manual training school and not a school for teachers. People have such little vision. Can't they see that no girl will have to spend more than an hour a day at housework? If they could only read the letters I received from prospective students, letters expressing gratitude at a tuition of only $64 a year, the housework helped make that possible. Oh, no, I too am becoming discouraged. Miss Lyon? No, won't you come in? I'm sure I've met you. Forgive me for intruding that I'm Miss Mansfield. My sister and I paid $100 to Mount Holyoke last year when you spoke at Conway. Oh, yes, of course. Oh, Miss Mansfield, this is Squire White and Dr. Hawkes, two of the trustees of our new academy. How do you do, Miss Mansfield? Miss Lyon, I don't know how to tell you, but our house is burned to the ground. Everything ahead in the world was lost. Oh, I'm so sorry, Miss Mansfield. We'll be glad to release you from your promise of money. Oh, but Miss Lyon, my sister and I still intend to give you that money. We're planning to weave and dye quilts to sell. We'll have the $100 for you within six months if you can wait that long. We want to feel that we've had a share in building Mount Holyoke. Uh, I don't know what I can say to thank you. Your visit today means far more than a promise of $100, Miss Mansfield. It means fresh hope, fresh encouragement to me. If you and your sister, who have no children, no direct interest in our school, have such faith in me and in Mount Holyoke, I must never falter. Squire White, how much money and actual cash do we need immediately to continue the building? Well, I should say we need about $1,000, Mary. I think I have a little more than that left in my savings account. Mary, you can't do that. You've given everything you have. This is your last $1,000. I only regret that I have no fortune to endow Mount Holyoke. The least I can do is give my last penny, and tomorrow I shall set out again on a tour of New England. Miss Lyon, after listening to you and Miss Mansfield, I promise never again to confess defeat. None of us must confess defeat. While I've received applications from 200 more girls than our school can accommodate the first year, depression or no depression, our school must open in November. Mount Holyoke, America's first permanently endowed institution for the higher education of women, opened as she had planned on November 8, 1837. At the close of its first year, Mount Holyoke received its crucial test, as the public gathered with critical interest for the oral examination of the young lady. We find Mary in her office, much to the amazement of her friend, Squire White. Mary, why are you not in the examination hall? My, my courage to fail, Squire White. I didn't dare remain to learn what impression my young lady's made upon our visitors. I'm ashamed to admit I was cowardly about it, too. For your sake. You've struggled so hard, Mary, for so many years. I couldn't bear to hear Mr. Benton, for instance, utter any critical comments. Nor could I. I had that high hope of him last year. I was so sure he'd contribute to our endowment fund. I saw him in the front row with his wife, listening to every word of the examination. But I couldn't judge his opinion from his expression. Oh, I am weary. And the battle's not half-worn. Many more thousands of dollars are needed as Mount Holyoke is to become a permanent institution. If the public is with us, contributions will pour in. But I... Mary, I have never forgotten your youthful speech to me at Sanderson Academy, declaring that someday you would help other girls obtain an education. You have done your best to accomplish that dream. We can do no more than our best. Squire White, come here a minute, will you? Who's that gentleman hurrying this way down the hall? Hmm? Why? Looks like Dr. Harris. Our speaker of tomorrow's final ceremonies. Oh, strange. Yes, it is Dr. Harris. Our distinguished visitors in England. Oh, he's running away. This means we've failed. Mary, I think we'd best know the truth at once. Dr. Harris! Did you call me, sir? Miss Lyon is here with me in her office. We wondered why you were in such haste. Is there some trouble? I'm glad to see you, Miss Lyon. I'm looking for a quiet room in which to write. What? Well, you may use the parlor across the hall. I'll see that you're not disturbed. Well, I have an apology to make to you, Miss Lyon. I had expected to find Mount Holyoke, the usual girl's school, to find the usual sweet young lady. I had written a flowery speech, should not be above the heads of such young ladies. Now that I've listened to the examinations, I find your students better informed than many college men. The speech I prepared for tomorrow will never do. I must rewrite it completely tonight. You said the parlor... Yes, right across the hall. Pardon me, I must start work at once. As good omen, Mary. My young ladies are better educated than many college men. Why, that single compliment is worth all my years of struggle. Miss Lyon. Miss Lyon, may I come in? Why, it's Mr. Benton. Oh, now we shall know the words. Won't you come in, please? Miss Lyon, I've been looking everywhere for you. I'm Robert Benton of Boston. Yes, I know. I've come to contribute that $5,000 I promised to Mount Holyoke. I shall mail it to you in the week. Mr. Benton, I... I'd carefully know how to thank you. Then you no longer disapprove of Mount Holyoke's cooperative housework plan, Mr. Benton? No, decidedly not. It appears to me the housework is part of the training, not drudgery. I shall tell everyone in Boston to have the finest school for young ladies in Massachusetts. A remarkable accomplishment, Miss Lyon. You may count on my hearty support. Thank you, Mr. Benton. My congratulations, Mary. Mr. Benton was our most determined critic. If he is won over, public sentiment will assuredly be with you. Your dream has been realized. Every American girl who has received a higher education owes a debt of gratitude to Mary Lyon for the American women's colleges of today are the result of her path-finding work in the early 19th century. DuPont is proud to pay her this tribute and give her name an honored place in the cavalcade of America. This week nearly 3,000 representative American women from every state in the Union gathered here in New York under the auspices of the New York Herald Tribune for a forum discussion on current problems and to hear messages from leading figures in education, government, business, and industry. Today women, as well as men, know that industry is more than just a collection of factories. They know it means job. They realize too how local industries contribute to the welfare of their communities. That from these industries come food and clothing and a great variety of new and attractive things to make life more enjoyable. And so this evening we speak particularly to the women in our audience relating some facts about chemistry and the DuPont company. First employment. DuPont now employs 26% more people than it did in the so-called boom year of 1929 and RLA wages and average weekly earnings for DuPont employees. Today are substantially higher than in 1929. And now what new comforts our DuPont research chemists helping provide. Refrigeration and air conditioning, as we know them today, are made possible by chemical refrigerants. Laminated safety glass, though vital to safety when you drive your car, is a result of progress in plastics. But you needn't leave your home to discover dozens of examples. More durable finishes such as do-luck used for woodwork and those gleaming white refrigerators. Man-made yarns for luxurious rayon fabrics. Fast dyes for all kinds of fabrics. Speaking of lovely color, we shouldn't forget the ceramic colors DuPont makes to beautify glassware and pottery. Them too, there are washable window shades such as DuPont's tom-teen shades, waterproof foot bindings and cleanable tablecloths, all of which comes from the same basic chemical idea. Something every woman appreciates is cellophane transparent wrapping that keeps foods fresh and clean and lets you see while you buy. But there just isn't time to mention the hundreds of other products of DuPont chemists, a majority of which are used by other manufacturers to make some useful thing for you. And in many cases the articles you buy cost less because increased volume or improved methods of manufacture make it possible to keep prices down. Last year for example the price of all DuPont products averaged 30% below the 1929 mark. As for the future, out of the test tube will come new contributions to better living. For DuPont chemists are constantly seeking to improve existing products and create new ones to serve new needs. Truly the DuPont company's philosophy of business is well summed up in its pledge better things for better living through chemistry. William Penn and the Holy Experiment, the story of the founder of Pennsylvania will be the subject of the broadcast when next week at the same time the DuPont company of Wilmington, Delaware again presents The Cavalcade of America. This is the Columbia Broadcasting Service.