 The DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware, makers of better things for better living through chemistry, presents the Cavalcade of America, starring Lee Bowman. Sound the Great Bell, a special broadcast of the DuPont Cavalcade of America, starring Lee Bowman as Thomas Jefferson, with Susan Douglas as Mistress Grafe. This is the actual sound of the Liberty Bell. Today the principles for which it stands have become magnified. 1776 to 1951. 175 years of a sound of freedom. Tomorrow, on the 4th of July, by presidential proclamation, we rededicate ourselves to the principles of the Declaration of Independence. Our story begins 175 years ago. A young man stands outside a Philadelphia house. From the window I guessed him to be a handsome man. You could see he was tall and very straight. It was May the 23rd in the year of our Lord, 1776. Well, then there is someone at home. There is me, sir. Do you generally take so long a time to answer your door? It is the new door of a new house and wild things are happening in Philadelphia. Not only in Philadelphia, in the whole world. That is why I keep my door closed. You are very wise. Tell me, is this the house of Mr. Jacob Grafe? It is, sir. I am Mistress Grafe. I'm told you have lodgings for rent. On the second floor, a parlor and a bedroom. Would you like to see it? Thank you. I wouldn't. Your house is very clean. I work hard to make it so. Oh, I must tell you that the rent is 35 shillings a week. Oh, that's rather high. Perhaps. These are the rooms. You are an excellent housekeeper, Mr. Grafe. Thank you. This will do me very well. I am informed that your husband is a good patriot. Oh, yes. My family and my husband's family came to Pennsylvania because Europe was full of kings like George III. Good enough. One further question. Have you any children? Oh, there is a little boy of two. He will not disturb you, I promise. That's fine. Then I shall be able to work without hindrance. May I ask what work you do? That's not easy to answer. When I was younger, I studied for the law. Ah, then you are a lawyer? No, I've virtually abandoned the law. Then you are a public speaker? Madam, I am frightened to speak at public gatherings. I never open my mouth. If you are no lawyer, no speaker, what are you? I wonder. If you must give me an occupation, call me a philosopher. At any rate, that's what I should like to be. My husband and I will be honored. What will you be philosophizing in my house? Do you know, Madam, I haven't the slightest idea. You haven't told me your name. My name is Thomas Jefferson. I blushed. It was stupid of me not to recognize him. Thomas Jefferson, a leader of the Second Continental Congress, the friend of Benjamin Franklin. Why, in the streets of Philadelphia, even the little children shouted his name. Yet he had come to my house and taken lodgings and spoken to me. And I had answered as though he were any stranger. In the weeks that followed, nearly all the great leaders of the American colonies came to my house. John Dickinson came. He came to plead. Jefferson, I have information that tomorrow the Congress will receive a Virginia resolution declaring that the United Colonies are free and independent states. Your information is correct. That resolution will be offered by Richard Henry Lee. That is also correct. You must stop him. No. Why should I? I believe in the resolution. Then you believe in a lie. We must conciliate, not separate. We must dissolve our political connections with the British crown. Tell a growing infant to dissolve its connection with its mother. Tell the young son to disown the father. Jefferson, are you blind? We are Englishmen. Mr. Grave. You call me? For just a moment, madam. Is something wrong, Mr. Jefferson? No, no, nothing is wrong. Mr. Grave, where were you born? In Germany. Therefore, you are a German. No, sir. I am an American. We are all of us Americans. Mr. Dickinson, a search see, is an Englishman. Mr. Dickinson must be fooling. He is an American. Madam, what is an American? Mr. Dickinson makes fun of me. Not true, madam. If it has meaning for you, tell me. I want to know. How can I tell you? I'm not like Mr. Jefferson. I have not read the books. There are no books. The flesh, the slate is clean. Answer, my friend. If you are an American, what are you? I... I am myself. I'm not where I came from. I'm not who my father was. I am what I am now. Well, Dickinson. An excellent performance. It should improve with more rehearsal. When Mr. Jefferson has time, he explains things to me. Is that wrong? Forgive me. It is very good that he teaches you. But, Jefferson, what are you teaching? The facts. For 16 years, George III has been ruler over us. He has taxed us while sacrificing our interests. What you say is true. Sometimes a father can be foolish. This father has suspended our legislatures and all our charters deprived us of trial by jury and sent his mercenaries to shoot us down. He chastises us as a father chastises a child. He strangles us, Dickinson. He places the noose around our necks. He gives us no alternative but resistance. Jefferson, I have not come here to debate. I ask you man to man as a friend, as a person whom I know to despise the tricks and the ways of demagogues. Jefferson, wait a little longer. The king will be informed that he has acted injudiciously. Oh? Informed by whom? By the king's privy counselors. Sir, has he listened to them before? Dickinson, give me a reason why he should listen now. Wait, Jefferson, wait. There is still time for reconciliation. Not anymore. This, this is the time to take a stand. Tomorrow I shall speak against the Virginia resolution. I shall listen, respectfully. This thing is by no means unanimous. Pennsylvania, Maryland, New York, Delaware, South Carolina, they're against you, Jefferson. Tomorrow we shall be united. On this issue, never. Good day, Mistress Grafe. May I offer you a cup of chocolate? Thank you, madam, but I must be gone. As it is, I have stayed too long. I studied the face of Thomas Jefferson as he watched his friend grow. And suddenly it came over me that more than political ties were being torn apart. Friends were tearing their hearts apart, pleading with each other. So much with their tongues as with their souls. On the seventh day of June, 1776, the Virginia delegation to the Second Continental Congress offered a resolution urging the independence of the American colonies. Mr. Chairman, I rise to speak against the resolution. The chair recognizes Mr. Dickinson of Pennsylvania. It seems that we in the colonies are of three minds. Tories and there are none here. Thank God. Those who stand for reconciliation and there are many such here. Not too many. And those like my friends Franklin and John Adams and Tom Jefferson who stand for a severing of all political ties. We're in the majority. I will not concede majority, Mr. Adams. In any case, we are a divided people and war which may still be avoided through a reconciliation with the Crown may not be avoided if you vote this resolution. What is urged here is an irrevocable step, as irrevocable and as final as death. I ask no delegate to betray his conscience, but I have the duty to ask that you consider the consequences of your actions. A great debate of June the 7th, 1776. For two days it continued almost without an interruption. On June 10th, the chair announced a ruling. This debate is declared suspended for three weeks. Mr. Chairman, the chair requests that there be order. Mr. Chairman, delegates, in the event of a successful issue to this debate, a declaration of independence should be ready and on hand for public proclamation. I propose, therefore, the election of a committee to draw up such a declaration. The committee was elected. Adams, Franklin, Livingston, Sherman, Jefferson. It was decided that Mr. Jefferson would prepare a first draft. I brought him ink, paper, quills, and in my house, Mr. Thomas Jefferson of Virginia began to compose a declaration of independence. Come in. Forgive me for interrupting you. Oh, Livingston, come in, come in. Thank you. Is the committee to meet here? No. I felt it my duty, however, as a member of the committee to apprise you of my views. Well, do sit down. Thank you, but I shan't stay long. Jefferson, I can't place my signature on your declaration. No one can. It isn't written. Oh, you know what I mean. When it is written, I shan't be able to sign it. Oh, why not? I have no authority to sign anything. You are a delegate. I cannot commit myself until I receive the authorization of the New York Convention. Why not? Because any signature from me would be illegal. You've been duly elected to this committee? Without instructions from the citizens of New York Colony. Livingston, they're asking you to lead them. No, sir. I am delegated to reflect their opinions and their beliefs. I put it to you bluntly. Are you for independence? New York is not for independence. You, Robert Livingston, forget New York. I am not permitted to forget New York. I must await instructions. Meanwhile, New York hesitates. Therefore, I must hesitate. John Dickinson wasn't boasting when he said he was not alone. What if Dickinson is right? My opinion is that he's wrong. But what if he is right and you're wrong? Independence is inevitable. Independence is necessary, but there are wise men who think this is not the time. Convince me. Persuade me. Jefferson, this declaration means war. There is war now. We cannot fight it. Again, I ask you, why not? Because we are divided. We will fight better because we are divided. No, you make no sense now. There can be no victory without absolute and utter unity. While men are alive, there can be no absolute and utter unity. Livingston, a little disunity is a healthy thing. What are you saying? I am saying that differences do not upset me. Well, they upset me. Oh, not me. I like difference. I prefer it. We're free men, different, like the American colonies, bickering, jealous, suspicious, argumentative. By the Lord Livingston, we're a healthy people. And we don't conform. And that's why this declaration is going to be written. You are listening to the Cavalcade of America starring Lee Bowman, sponsored by the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware, makers of better things for better living through chemistry. Thomas Jefferson, like other early American statesmen, recognized that a strong democracy requires a strong economy. He knew that America must have its own industry, free from dependence on the production of other nations. With that in mind, he encouraged many early industrial pioneers. Among them, Elotair Irine DuPont, founder of the DuPont Company. American industry has had a vital part in the nation's march to greatness. To this progress, the DuPont Company has contributed its better things for better living through chemistry. The DuPont Cavalcade continues starring Lee Bowman as Thomas Jefferson with Susan Douglas as Mistress Green. In June 1776 in Philadelphia, Thomas Jefferson sat at a desk in my house. And there he wrote a declaration of independence for the American colonies. But the Second Continental Congress was divided, and even his own friends like John Dickinson argued with him. Dickinson, you may pace up and down if you wish, but you do make me quite dizzy. I'm sorry, Jefferson. I'm sorry. You? To see you look so pale. I don't sleep very well. Yeah, my fault? Yes, but the fault is everywhere. It is in our times. You're right. Oh, Jefferson, why couldn't we have been born a hundred years earlier when the world was more at peace when a man didn't have to make a choice? The only people who don't have to make a choice are slaves. Perhaps they're the lucky ones. Now, by that logic, the dead are even luckier. But you didn't come here just to make conversation. You're right. Jefferson, I am a melancholy messenger. Your blasted Virginia resolution is going to pass. Oh, how do you know? There's been no vote. I've gone from delegation to delegation. Listening, overhearing. I've been shameless. But I know which way they will vote. Oh? May God help them. May He help us. They are intent on making the final break with the mother country. I'd hurt you, Dickinson. It chokes me. I will ring for Mr. Grape some refreshments. No, listen to me. George III may be a fool. But the British Crown, that is something else again. I agree with you. Then why break? We're young, weak, immature. We need the protection of the British Crown. In order to stay young and weak and immature? Dickinson, have you ever seen a child protected at every turn shielded from all harm, guarded against all perils? Have you seen such children? I suppose I have. They always remain children. Yes. Beware we do not remain children. What do you mean? I mean no more protection. We want responsibility. It's the same as freedom. Peril is the same as freedom. Risk. Taking chances. To be on one's own. No one to hold your hand. No king, no party, no governor. Dickinson, mock me if you will. But this is a struggle for the right to be a little insecure. Jefferson, I shall not vote with you. I despise a unanimous vote. But I shall not vote against you. Because while my heart tells me I am right, my mind tells me you are right. On Thursday the 27th of June, 1776, I carried a message from Mr. Thomas Jefferson to Mr. Benjamin Franklin. Oh, Mr. Grafe, come in, come in. Is Jefferson ready to show us his declaration? He is, Mr. Franklin. Has Mr. Adams been informed? Oh, yes, sir. Good, good. Where shall the committee meet? Oh, say to Mr. Jefferson that a god of righteousness is punishing me for past sins, and that I fret here, disabled by gout and remorse. You are quite handsome, Mr. Grafe. My eyes are partial to pretty flowers and handsome women. You wish, Mr. Jefferson, and Mr. Adams to meet with you here. And you are also intelligent. Here, here, here, what are you doing? Kissing you. Oh, shame on you, kissing an old, defenseless man. That was rather nice. But don't you think I deserve an explanation? Well, Mr. Jefferson has resided in my house and now I have kissed Benjamin Franklin. I shall be immortal. Immortality is not quite so easy, my dear. Raise a family of nine children. That's immortality. Gentlemen, you're taking a very long time. My dear Jefferson, you've written a very long document. I'm done. You, Adams? I have read it. Well, it's good. Did you have any doubt? Thank you, Mr. Franklin. A small suggestion. Of course, sir. Here, in this first paragraph, you've put down eight people. You mean one people. It's a good suggestion. Thank you, sir. Mr. Adams? The paragraph which follows, we hold these truths to be sacred and undeniable. Now, why not we hold these truths to be self-evident? Yes, yes, that's very much better, Adams. I'm afraid there must be many words and phrases that should be changed. I have no fear, Jefferson, whether they should be changed or not. Congress will change them. But so far as John Adams and I are concerned, you've written a document that can stand. On the 1st of July, 1776, the Continental Congress resolved itself into a committee of the whole to resume consideration of the Virginia resolution and independence. Result? That these United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent states. That they are absolved from all allegiance to the British Crown, and that all political connections between them and the state of Great Britain is and ought to be totally resolved. July 2nd, 1776, not July 4th, July 2nd, the Chairman of the Second Continental Congress announced the vote on the Virginia resolution. The resolution is carried. 12 colonies in favor, one abstaining. July 4th, after debate, argument and revision, the Congress of the United States passed a declaration of independence. I scrubbed my face clean and I put on my Sunday bonnet. Where are you going, Mr. Scrape? To Congress. So do you suppose they'll let you in? Then I shall stand outside. Here, Thomas Jefferson read his declaration of independence. Oh, no, no, I shall not read it, my dear. I am no orator. Oh. You are disappointed? Thomas Jefferson should read Thomas Jefferson's declaration. It isn't right that anyone else should read it for you. You and only you must read it. Take, take off your bonnet, Mr. Scrape. What? Take off your bonnet. Now, sit down. Yes, sir. Now, I shall not read it to Congress, but I shall read it to you. When, when in the course of human events, it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another? He read the words to me. A gentleman from Virginia reading his immortal paragraphs. He read simply. He was no orator. Nor did he wish to be. He was strong for he knew that the truth can stand by itself. And listening to him, I knew that a statement of truth, a way of life that the world had never known before, had been conceived and set forth in my house. A way of life that would never die. Not in me, nor in my children, nor in my children's children. It will be unto all my generations and unto yours. We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. That to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, thriving their just powers from the consent of men. And 75 years ago, in Philadelphia, when Mr. Jefferson's declaration was read aloud to the people, I heard the sound of the great bell. And tomorrow again, in Philadelphia, and in your villages and towns and cities, other bells will ring out, making a long sound, a wide-flowing sound. American men and American women and American children will stand in an act of rededication, saluting a flag of faith, a declaration of the undying human spirit. With a firm reliance on the protection of divine providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor. Ladies and gentlemen, Susan Douglas and the Cavalcade players for tonight's DuPont Story sound the great bell. And now, Bill Hamilton speaking for the DuPont Company. If you have a pencil handy, write your name, look at it a moment, then close your eyes. Imagine that your signature is among 56 others at the bottom of an impressive-looking document, yellowed now with age. Some of the signatures are bold and large. Some are neat and careful. Imagine that your name is just below that of a gentleman who signed with a flourish, Benjamin Franklin, just above the impressive signature, John Hancock. Or beside that of the man who set down these beliefs of a freedom-loving people, Thomas Jefferson. If you had been living in 1776, perhaps you would have actually signed this document as a delegate chosen by your friends and neighbors. But your name, in a sense, is there. It was signed for you by proxy. The 57th name on the Declaration of Independence, a priceless heritage that is yours to hold and cherish. The Declaration of Independence is just what its name implies, a statement of our belief in the equality and dignity of man, and a list of the wrongs committed against our freedom. We might make a similar declaration and a similar list today, setting forth our grievances against the forces that seek to deprive us of our freedom. For freedom needs us, needs our declaration of faith, our constant effort to protect it and extend its meaning. Tonight, on the eve of our nation's 175th birthday, we can rededicate ourselves to the principles of American freedom. Tonight's DuPont cavalcade, Sound the Great Bell, starring Lee Bowman, was written by Morton Wishengrad. Music was composed by Arden Cornwell, conducted by Donald Boris. The program was directed by John Zoller, the society Harris speaking. This is Bill Hamilton speaking for our cavalcade players, our writers and musicians, and wishing all of you a pleasant summer from the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware. Makers of better things for better living through chemistry. Now here, Brian Donlevy and his dangerous assignment on NBC.