 Cabel Cade of America, presented by Jupont. Abraham Lincoln in the war years, starring Raymond Massie. An original radio play by Robert E. Sherwood, written especially for tonight's Cabel Cade of America. Based upon Carl Sandberg's Abraham Lincoln, The War Years. Tonight we look backward to the one man who, above all others, epitomizes the American character. Working backward on the role it has been privileged to play in the American scene, takes pride in the fact that it has been able to add to the strength of the union of the American states that Lincoln re-welded. For Jupont and chemistry are doing their part in making America secure and self-sufficient within her own borders. No longer dependent on foreign sources for the vital raw materials for factory and farm that once came from the four corners of the earth. At the time of the last world war, American life and industry were plunged into a chaotic state through sudden stoppage of foreign imports. Rubber, camphor, nitrates, dyestuffs, to mention a few of the necessary ingredients of our daily living, rose to almost prohibitive prices, as their scarcity became stringent. The chemical industry, faced then with the gargantuan task of developing domestic sources of supply, has in the past 20 years emerged triumphantly with man-made rubber, the dyestuffs industry, fertilizers made from air, yarn made from wood pulp and from coal, air and water, to name a few of chemistry's unending stream of developments. Our liberation from dependence on an undependable world is even now a saga of American enterprise that we might well thrill with pride to hear. But perhaps of more importance is the fact that these advances of chemistry and industry are a guarantee that we may look confidently ahead. For once again, as she has in the past, America has found a road wide and straight, along which its cavalcade may roll. No drama of Abraham Lincoln can have a finer introduction than the words written by Carl Sandberg in the preface to his timeless biography of the great emancipator. In the story of a great struggle, we meet gaps and discrepancies. Many men and women now faded and gone lived the drama before it could be written. They do and say what they did and said in life as seen and known to the eyes and ears, the mind and spirit of themselves, or other men and women of their own time. Some of them spoke with action, some with words, some with both action and words. What they say by act or deed is often beyond fathoming because it happened in a time of great stress. February 11th, 1861, 8 o'clock in the morning, a cold drizzle of rain is falling over the Great Western Railway Station in Springfield, Illinois. The prairie horizon is veiled in chilly gray mist. A short little locomotive with a flat top smokestack stands puffing with a baggage car and special passenger car hitched on. Inside and around the break station, a thousand people have taken off their hats and are looking up at a tall bearded man on the rear platform. Friends, today I leave. I go to assume a task more difficult than that which devolved upon General Washington. Unless the great God who assisted him shall be with me and aid me, I must fail. Permit me to ask you that you will all invoke his wisdom and guidance for me. With these few words, I must leave for how long I know not. Friends, one and all, I must now bid you an affectionate farewell. Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye. Goodbye. At Decatur, they watched from saddle horses. All over now, he'll split the union worse than he ever did his Angaman law. Prince of Rails, indeed. Anybody with that abolition eight would make a better president. I say it tells you to have been juxtaposed. Indianapolis, they stood under darkening skies. What's going to happen next? Next time, maybe you'll pick a whim. All right, all right. I'll pay my election bet. But you boys will see I'm right some day. The South will have something to say about Abe Lincoln being president. We'll wait and see. Just wait. There's gonna be trouble. Plenty of trouble. We're at 21st, 1861. Philadelphia, in a hotel parlor. Well, here you are, Abe. I might be glad to see you. Thank you, Norman. If my journey keeps going on at this slow rate it has, it'll be Resurrection Day before I reach the cabin. Well, anyway, in ten days' time you'll be president. Abe, the country wants to know how you're going to stop this session. I can't answer them yet. You've got to, Abe. Now listen, I want to tell you something. Once years ago, when I and other lords were riding circuit, there was a heavy-spell rainfall and all the streams were flooded and we had great difficulty for them. We stopped at a little tavern. Who was accustomed to riding over that region and all sorts of weather? We gathered about him for advice as to how we could get over the Fox River. He told us he knew all about that. But he said, I have one fixed policy in regard to Fox River. I never cross it till I come to it. Who's that? A man's outside. Wants to see you, Mr. Judd, and the president. All right, Abe? Yeah, let him come in. This way, sir. Gentlemen, my name is Alan Pinkerton. I am a detective in the employ of the Pennsylvania Railroad. I have come to tell you, Mr. Lincoln, that there's a serious plot to assassinate you when you arrive in Baltimore. The ringleader is a man named Fernandina. Probably just another one of those fanatics. But he has a strong group of followers. They're all armed. They're desperate. And Mr. Lincoln, they're killers. You are their enemy, Abe. You know there are many who will do anything to prevent you from... Be quiet, gentlemen. I thought you were alone. Good evening, Mrs. Lincoln. It's just a little political discussion, Mary. That'll be all, gentlemen. I'll give your suggestions my most serious consideration. Very good, sir. I'll see you later, Abe. Good day, Mrs. Lincoln. Good day. Good day, gentlemen. Abe, what were they talking about? Oh, they were just talking about political appointments. Come here, Mary. Come over to the window. Now then, Mary, look down there. That's Independence Hall where I'm speaking tomorrow. Abe, I'm frightened. I'm frightened. Frightened to what? Everything that may come to us. Civil war. There's nothing to be scared of, Mary. We may have a pretty rough road ahead of us, but we'll pull through. Everything's working as we planned, Mr. Lincoln. Fine, Mr. Lincoln. Taking this special train will get us to Baltimore long before he was scheduled to pass through. The town will be asleep. We'll be leaving any minute now. Thank you, Mr. Lincoln. Yes, uh, get some sleep. Good night. On the eve of his inauguration, Abraham Lincoln escaped assassination by secretly arriving in the National Capitol. They said it was degrading for a president to come like a thief in the night and make the American people the laughing stock of the entire world. But the incident was soon lost in the swirl of ominous events that engulfed the new family in the White House. Abe, it's just as I keep telling you. You've got to take a stand. What stand do you mean, Mary? You must show the country you're determined to keep the states united. You'll have to do something about it. You'll have to right away. I know it, Mary. I know I will. But please don't let's talk about it now. Here come the children. Well, Willie, what do you and Dad think of your new home? We were just telling Robert we've never seen such a big house. It's twice as big as Uncle Minions in Springfield. Look, Willie, look at the painting. John Adams and Thomas Jefferson and Andrew Jackson and Zachary Taylor. And Ma, look. Look here. Yes, I see it, Dad. George Washington. That's the picture Dolly Massin ran off with so that the British wouldn't burn it. Hey, Pa. Yes, Dad, was it, son? You suppose I'll ever hang a picture of you here? Well, I tell you, son. After reading the papers lately, I doubt it. Pa, I don't believe him, Pa. Pa, now that you're president, can I have a pony? Tell you what, Willie, we'll have to ask Congress about that. Robert. Yes, Ma. Take the children out on the lawn. They can play there. Very well, Ma. Come on, you two. Will you ask Congress about the pony, Pa? Can we go down to Congress right now? We'll see about it later. Will you? Yes, Pa. Don't play too hard now, so you'll be all tuckered out. No, Pa. Well, Mary, I kinda think Willie's looking better at that. Maybe we should buy him that pony. Abe. If you do it again, the situation is serious. What are you going to do about Fort Sumter? I don't know, Mary. It's hard to know what to do about it. I gotta try to figure it out. Gentlemen, I've called this meeting in the Cabinet to discuss the serious situation in Charlton. It is proposed that this government send relief to Fort Sumter. Do you think we should do it, Mr. Seward? No, I do not. The government in action will provoke instant secession in the South and lead us directly into a civil war. What about you, Mr. Chase? I agree with Mr. Seward. You, Mr. Cameron? Let the people of South Carolina have Fort Sumter and let us have peace. Mr. Blair, what is your opinion? If we fail to come to the fence of Fort Sumter, we may as well shut up sharp as a self-respecting government. We must send relief, even if it does mean war. Mr. Wells? I disagree heartily with Mr. Blair. Mr. Smith? I vote no on sending relief. Mr. Bates? My vote is the same. Evacuate Fort Sumter. If the South wants to secede and form a new nation, let them do it. There's room on this continent for as many nations as there are in Europe. Our course is clear, Mr. President. The sentiment of this Cabinet, this Cabinet is seven to one in favor of evacuation of Fort Sumter. Thank you for giving me the benefit of your opinion. But the final responsibility rests on me. Yes, Mr. President. And your first duty is to preserve peace. My first duty is to preserve this union. And my policy must be governed by the dictates of my own conscience as to what is right. I shall give orders at once to the Army and Navy to send relief to Fort Sumter. Mr. President, it won't be easy for you to justify this dangerous action to the Congress and the people. I know that, Mr. Seward. I know it won't be easy. Hello, citizens of the Senate and House of Representatives. Fort Sumter has been attacked in Bombardier and has fallen. This action is forced upon the country the distinct issue, immediate disillusion or blood. This issue embraces more than the fate of these United States. It presents to the whole family of man the question whether a constitutional republic or democracy, a government of the people by the same people can or cannot maintain its territorial integrity against its own domestic foes. It forces us to ask, is there in all republics this inherent and fatal weakness? Must a government of necessity be too strong for the liberties of its own people or too weak to maintain its own existence? Gentlemen, we cannot escape history. We of this Congress and this administration will be remembered in spite of ourselves. We shall nobly save or meanly lose the last best hope of Earth. We're with you, Abe. Count on me, Abe. We're with you, Abe. We're coming, Abe. Where are you? Abraham Lincoln was confronted with a divided nation rent us under in tragic civil war. And as the months of fear and anxiety passed, many mistrusted Abraham Lincoln, scorned him, hated him, refused to fight under his leadership. And as the clouds of war darkened a nation, a personal sorrow was deepening in the heart of the White House. Pa. Yes, Willie? I want to see my pony. When can I see him, Pa? You'll see him soon, Willie. Soon, Pa? Yes, son. But first you got to get well. That's the main thing. Just rest quietly, son. Yes, I will. Close your eyes now and go to sleep. How is he, doctor? I want the truth. How is he? Come over here, Mr. President. We're doing all we can. You've got to save his life. Doctor, you've got to. We're trying. That's all we can do now. Try, Mr. President. I understand. Thank you, doctor. You mustn't give way, Mary. I know. I know how hard it is. Sometimes I feel I can never be glad again. But we've got to keep our sorrow to ourselves. There are many thousands of mothers and fathers north and south who have seen their own sons die on the field of battle. It's up to us to set them an example in courage. It's one thing to be thankful for. At least our little boy died a innocent child. Mary. I'd rather have him go that way than have him killed in this horrible war. So cruel. So senseless. Brother fighting against brother. My own brothers are fighting on the southern side against us. Mary, I wish you would not speak of that. Why not, Abe? My brothers are fighting for the south because that's the cause they believe in. Why shouldn't I speak of it? I'm proud of them. Abe, do you believe what the Gossips are saying? I'm a traitor because my family came from Kentucky. I'm really against you and the northern cause? Mary, you don't have to ask me that. Gentlemen, this committee of the Senate has been assembled in strict secrecy to investigate a certain very grave matter. The belief is spreading throughout the country that all our misfortunes can be traced to one person, a spy in the White House. That person is Mrs. Lincoln. Gentlemen, I beg you not to be too hasty. This matter is of the gravest importance to the nation. It certainly is. With what we all know, I'm in favor of exposing the whole presidential scandal. And I'd go as far as impeachment. Now, wait a minute. We can't have a public scandal. Not at this time, anyway. Attention, gentlemen. What is it? The president. The president? How did he know we were meeting? Will you go in, Mr. President? I wish to make a statement to you gentlemen. It is as follows. I, Abraham Lincoln, president of the United States appear of my own volition before this committee of the Senate. To say that I of my own knowledge know that it is untrue that any of my family hold reasonable communication with the enemy. The Senate committee was deeply moved and the investigation was dropped. But Lincoln's sadness was not relieved. On a chill gray November day in 1863, the president was sitting on a platform on Cemetery Hill in Gettysburg, listening to an oration by Edward Everett. It was an oration. It lasted two hours. But the crowd there loved it. Wonderful speech, wasn't it? That's the kind of speech I like. Big words and old Everett sure knows how to say them. I'd like to eat an apple. Thanks. Now we are indeed testing whether that's... Crop this hearing is so good. ...set on a great battlefield of that war. We have come to steady... Say, all Abe's talking now. Can't hear him. Can you? Well, don't make much difference if we do. Abe can't hold a candle to Edward Everett as an orator. But come on, let's try to get closer. Well, I tell you, old Abe ain't so bad you know, but he certainly picked the wrong time to be president. We cannot consecrate... We cannot hallow this ground. The brave men living and dead who struggled here have consecrated it far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note or long remember what we say here. But it can never forget what they did here. Say, did you hear what he said just now? No, it wasn't. He said, nobody would remember what he's saying here. Well, he hit the nail on the head that time. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us. That from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion. That we hear highly resolved that these dead shall not have died in vain. That this nation under God shall have a new birth of freedom. And that government of the people, by the people, and for the people, shall not perish from the earth. Well, yes, he's finished. Yeah, he's finished. Come on, let's go home. There were many who did not understand and appreciate the meaning of Lincoln's words at Gettysburg that day, but their portent and messages outlived the tragedy and chaos of those four sorrowful years. At last, the superior strength and wealth of the northern states asserted themselves and the tragic war came to an end. And on March 4th, 1865, Abraham Lincoln was inaugurated for the second time. With malice to ordnance, with charity for all, with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in, to bind up the nation's wounds, to care for him who shall have borne the battle and for his widow and his orchard, to do all which may achieve a just and lasting peace among ourselves and with all nations. April 14th, 1865 was Good Friday. It was a lovely spring day in Washington and the president at Mrs. Lincoln went for a stroll. Good day, Mr. Lincoln. Good day, sir. Good day. Good day there, boys. What's your regimen, son? 157th New York Volunteers, Mr. President. Oh, yes, Colonel Brown's regimen. You, sonny, what's yours? The 5th Michigan Cavalry, Mr. President. That's fine. Well, it's all over now, boys. You'll be going home soon and there'll be a heap of work for all of us to do. Yes, sir. That's right. Goodbye, boys. Goodbye. Good day, sir. Good day, Mr. President. You know, Mary, it's been a hard time for the people. It's been a hard time for us, sir. I tell you, when my term of office is over, we'll go back to Illinois and pass the rest of our lives in quiet. We'll make up law practice again, just as if nothing had happened. It'll be good to be among our own neighbors again. Oh, Abe. Do you think people will ever feel really happy again? Yes, Mary. People get over these things if they try, even when they haven't much hard for it. Well, you can try. But I don't really feel like going to the theater tonight. We mustn't feel like that, Mary. It'll do us good. It's been a long time since we've been able to sit back and enjoy a real good laugh. In Washington. And in my presence, Augusta, dear. Who's your room? Gracious, Abe. I hope everybody's going to think my hanging on to you so. They won't think anything about it. Now listen, Mary. Many millions of people saw it. The line of March ran 1,700 miles. Yes. There was a funeral from the White House in Washington where it began. They carried his coffin and followed it nights and days for 12 days. Bells tolling. Bells sobbing the requiem. The solute guns. Cannon rumbling their inarticulate thunder. To Springfield, Illinois. The old hometown. The Sangamon, nearby. The new Salem Hilltop, nearby. For the final rest of the cherished dust. And the night came with great quiet. And there was rest. The prairie years, the war years were over. In the closing words of Carl Sandberg's Immortal Testament to the Great Emancipator, the cavalcade of America's dramatization of Abraham Lincoln comes to a close. To Raymond Massey, to Robert E. Sherwood, and to Carl Sandberg, our thanks. Dupont, knowing that all Americans have a deep and sincere affection for all things that touch upon Lincoln, is preparing a souvenir copy of tonight's script as it came to you over the air. A copy may be obtained by writing to Dupont, Wilmington, Delaware. And with it will go Dupont's earnest wish that it may serve to remind those who receive it of the hope and courage inspired by this simple man who takes his secure place in the small company of the immortals. Next week, the cavalcade of America's guest star will be the beloved and distinguished American actress, Miss Ethel Barrymore. And here's what Dr. Monahan of Yale University, our historical advisor, has to say about next week's program. In my opinion, next week's cavalcade is truly an exciting scoop in American history. The author, Bessie James, spent more than 12 years researching thousands of documents and manuscripts. From her story materials, cavalcade makes live again one of the most unusual women in American history. The role of that extraordinary woman will be played by Miss Ethel Barrymore. Here is the question which her characterization will answer. What important woman pioneer in the field of 19th century American journalism was formerly convicted of being a common skull and had her fine paid by the secretary of state. To her court race, the publishers of Abraham Lincoln, The War Years, the sponsors of cavalcade of America extend their grateful thanks for the cooperation which has made this broadcast possible. The orchestra and musical effects, as usual, were under the direction of Don Voorhees. This is Louis Rowan saying good night and best wishes from Dupont, makers of better things for better living through chemistry. This is the national broadcasting company. Thank you.