 Family Theatre presents William Lundigan and Rod Cameron. Family Theatre presents Rod Cameron in the Black Tulip. To introduce the drama, your host and narrator, Will... Thank you, Gene Baker. Family Theatre'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 Theatre urges you to pray. Pray together as a family. It's been said that the glory of Holland lies in the soil of her tulip beds. Tulip's daughter countryside. Tulip's abound in her marketplaces. A legend tells us that a certain tulip once acted as a symbol of freedom for the people of the Netherlands. Yes, just as a rattlesnake with 13 rattles was an early symbol for the American colonies and just as the French rallied to the stirring music of the Marseillais. So the people of Holland at one time in their history looked to the sign of a tulip, completely black in color. Rod Cameron stars tonight as the young tulip grower Cornelius van Bereld in the remarkable legend of the black tulip. Here was 1673. The tulips growing in the free air of Holland were trampled by the boots of a conqueror. William of Orange had risen to power in the Netherlands. Late in that year, the stealthy approach of night on the plains just outside the town of Dorth, two men make their way toward a phantom object, a windmill, lonely, abandoned. Its arms moving restlessly to be free of its heavy bonds of mist and fog. This spot is well-suited, Cornelius. Still through this fog, I can see no signal from the mill. Look closely, uncle. Does nothing about its appearance strike you as strange? Yes, it's arms. Yes, the arms of a windmill normally turn with the wind, do they not? But in this case, a crank inside the mill operated by two men changes their direction. And provides you with a signal. And a password as well. Here we are. Tell me, Miller, how does the wind blow in Holland? It's you, Cornelius. And as I promised, my uncle John DeWitt is with me. You see, there's no legend, my friends, but a man of flesh and blood like ourselves. And like yourselves, anxious to change the direction of the wind in Holland. It blows cold for us now, but we must endure it for a time. Are we to hide our heads like ostriches in the soil of our tulip beds? Wait, wait! Listen to my uncle's words. At my own command, men like yourselves, poorly armed, hopelessly outnumbered, have fought and died in the streets of other cities, slaughtered like animals. And in all conscience, I cannot give such an order here in Dorth. We have weapons! Are swords and planks a no match for the muskets of the English? Cornelius is right. Today I'm going to France to negotiate for arms for the underground. If we obtain them, fair stands the wind for freedom. Small fishing craft draws noiselessly to the side of a vessel at anchor and receives a passenger from her deck. Uncle, what news do you bring from France? Bad news, Cornelius. I failed. The arms are available, but money is needed. A great deal of money to purchase them. Then Holland must hack her way to freedom after all with pike and sword. Well, perhaps we will find a way. Ah, friend Cornelius, where are you born for? Had you not better stay and listen to the edict? I'll get no planning done that way. By now William of Orange wards these edicts and is asleep. Well, I'd listen to this one about with you, friend Cornelius. It seems to concern the planting of tulips. Yes, you're right. I'd like to ask them to announce the awarding of a prize of 100,000 florins. 100,000 florins? Of 100,000 florins to the person who succeeds in growing a tulip entirely black in color. It has long been the hope of Holland to produce a black tulip, a task that has presented... 100,000 florins. That's a great deal of money, is it? Not friend Cornelius. A great deal of money. How 100,000 florins could increase a man's enjoyment of life. What a pity the task is one incapable of being accomplished. I, who have devoted a lifetime that tulips can assure you. Friend Cornelius, what is your hurry? Cornelius! But what if it were possible to grow a black tulip? What if it were? What if it were? Crawl. Silhouette against the moon would give me away. Will it have blown tonight? I have waited many months to know. There it is. Not black, but a darker shade than the darkest brown. Which means the bulbs he's working with now when planted will produce. A black tulip. And Jacob Chilhoffer became more than a mole in Cornelius' garden. He became an unseen, ever-watchful presence. Through a window, level with the ground, he was able to watch Cornelius at work in his cellar. Through this window one night, he saw and heard. Cornelius, I won't stay long in your house. Harm might come to you if my visit here were known. Harm is a paltry thing compared to the dangers you encounter every day. Besides, there's something down here I want to show you. Here are the means to buy the arms we need. What? Three tulip bulbs? Oh, come now, Cornelius. But, Uncle, these are the bulbs of a black tulip. In Amsterdam, a prize of 100,000 florins will be given to any man who can... Who accomplishes the impossible. Yes, Uncle, the impossible. You said it would take the impossible to save Holland. Cornelius, I'm afraid your experiment is too much at the mercy of soil and weather. The situation grows desperate and the money is needed now. I plan a journey to the capital to see if I can raise it there. It's dangerous. Not if I travel in Cognito. And in order to do that, I must leave these documents with you. It is our correspondence with the King of France. I dare not carry it with me. But if you'll just wait until the planning season. Don't fret, Cornelius. Those brave bulbs may yet have an opportunity to serve Holland. Meanwhile, these documents will keep them from rolling around inside the drawer. Through the cellar window, Chilhoffer saw the documents go into the drawer with the bulbs of the black tulip. And to his eyes came a look of awful cunning. Here is information I can make use of. Yes, here is information the authorities will be interested in. But Cornelius van Barel was unaware of the treachery being plotted by Chilhoffer. And unaware that treachery from other sources awaited his uncle in the capital. Treachery and death. The soldiers are coming closer. They'll find us soon. Yes, Your Highness, but I'm done for. No, no, no, no, Master Dewitt. The underground will crumble with your death. Not so, Your Highness. No, not if a certain tulip flowers black. Listen, do as I say. Save yourself and then make your way to the town of Dorf. My nephew will soon be planting the three bulb switch. Yes, yes, Master Dewitt. Cornelius must hurry his instructions in writing. My blood will provide the ink to write with. The fate of Harlan now rests with three tulip bulbs. The fate at the same time was inspiring against the bulbs of the black tulip. Chilhoffer determined to get possession of them, made use of his information concerning the documents left with Cornelius. Master Cornelius! Johan, the troops of soldiers is heading here. Soldiers coming here? Yes, you must hurry. Must be the bulbs are after. I have a message from your uncle on this piece of paper. It contains a... Piece of paper. Give it to me quickly. I'll wrap the bulbs in it. Here. Miss Van Belf, you will come out at once. I rest you in the name of His Royal Highness William Prince of Orange. Yes, but why are you arresting me? Chargers will be brought when your house has been thoroughly searched for certain treason-bow documents known to be in your possession. Meanwhile, you will come with us. He was paced anxiously in his cell. And he watched the pale beam of a lantern draw nearer and nearer till it shone through the wicket in his cell door. He heard a voice that was hardly more than a whisper of speak. How does the wind blow in Holland? What? Who's there? Who are you? My name is Rosa. My father is the jailer here. Where did you hear those words? You were called Cornelius. It was over a year ago that I heard them for the first time. One day while I was walking, I went into a deserted windmill. I was about to leave when I heard voices. I grew frightened and hid. I hid all evening and watched and listened. And told no one of what you saw or what you heard? Had I done that, harm would have come to you and to the underground. Often have I seen you since. Often have I wanted to ask to help. Perhaps now I am my father coming. Rosa, you can't help. Perhaps in this piece of paper are three tulip balls. Hide them for me. I cannot explain their importance now. I'll keep them for you. And now I must go. It would not do for my father to know we had this secret. But then he would never let me come to see you again. Now to search the prisoner. Come on. Over here. What's this? My pipe, I believe. This is my pouch of tobacco. You will let me keep them, won't you? They'll hardly be needed as evidence of my trial. Trial? That's a good one. Trial! Political prisoners don't need sentencing. There's only one sentence for them. Yours will come from the capital one of these days. And they'll take you there to carry it out. Carry it out? Yes, because more often than not the sentence is death. Yes, Master Cornelius. It's true. Man's time on earth is all too brief. If I could just see my tulip beds again. If I could show them to you, somehow Rosa, that would complete my happiness. Oh, Master Cornelius. You and I together would have watched the miracle come from those three tulip pobs I gave you. Armors for the underground, Rosa, could have been purchased with 100,000 florins offered to the person who grows a black tulip. A black tulip? Oh, but that takes soil and warmth, sunshine and care. Yes, but all that can be provided. What? My bedroom window looks upon a plot of ground that I have turned into a garden for myself. Could you prepare the ground according to my instructions? Here, I'll write them down for you. Oh, Lass, I cannot read. Then I'll tell you what to do. And you must listen carefully, Rosa. Rosa, what has happened? Was tonight you were going to plant the bulbs? I could not. My movements were observed by a man who nightly fills my father's glass, making himself a welcome visitor. Tonight, when I had gone into my garden to plant the bulbs, I was about to take them from the house. Who's there? Who's there? Father, is it you? No, it is I, Rosa. But pray continue with your work. Being a tulip grower myself, I thought I might benefit from watching. Oh, sir, I know nothing about the growing of tulips. And what could make you believe I'm preparing the ground for tulips I cannot imagine? Right. Me a notion. Forgive my intrusion. Yes, forget the title. He left the garden then, but I could feel his eyes in the darkness watching me. So I went through the motions of planting the tulip bulbs. Then I went to my room and watching him from the window, I saw him steel from his hiding place. He fell upon his knees in the fresh earth, digging into the ground with his hands. Cornelius, who can he be? I don't know who he is, but he must be after the bulbs of the black tulip. Oh, what are we to do? Oh, if we only had time to plan. One of those bulbs must go into the ground at once. Rosa, select one tomorrow night. Bring it here to my cell, along with some leaf mold and a sharp tool. If all goes well, the black tulip will take root in this pitcher. But can you keep it hidden from my father? He only bring it from its crevice in the wall for a short time each day. Late in the morning when a patch of sunlight visits my cell. For warmth, the ashes of my pipe add it to the soil each day. What was that? I'm sure I heard a sound. It couldn't be your father. One can always hear him a long way off. No. No, it wasn't my father. But it may have been someone else. Aren't you at it? What? Stay where you are. We'll have a look in that picture if you don't mind. I do mind. Then I'll take it. Be careful. Don't trample there. Whatever it was, it isn't any more. Your secret's Dustin Rubble now, Van Bale. Dustin Rubble. Dustin Rubble. Oh, you mustn't despair, Cornelius. Let the stranger who prowls in the dark be the one to despair. You think it was he who sent your father to my cell this morning? I'm certain of it. The step I heard on the stairs last night could only have belonged to him. But the bulb was destroyed. Whoever sent the police to my house that day to arrest me must have won a possession of those bulbs. I saved them, though. And it trusted them to me. Now you must trust me to find a way to grow the black tulip. You must trust me. Were you just passing by my door on your way to see my father? Or have you been waiting here? Well, in either case, am I not equally rewarded, Mistress Rosa, seeing you? I, uh, notice you always lock your door on leaving your room. A habit. Nothing more. One would suppose you guard some treasure behind that door. It can't be a hidden treasure. For surely, Mistress Rosa, this sunlight must look upon it. Not one of them fits. Not one of her father's keys will turn the lock. She must have had a change. Well, I know a few tricks, too. Yes, a little wax heated till it's soft and manageable will provide me with a good enough impression. Mr. Cornelius. Rosa, Rosa, what is it? It has been taken from us, stolen from us. Taken, stolen. The very day it was to have opened. The very day I was hoping to come to you and tell you. Rosa, how is it stolen? I, I cannot think. I don't know. Well, at least we know where this thief will go and the route he'll take to get there. But, but how can all this be known to you? Well, if the tulip was about to flower, his destination is Amsterdam. For there the prize will be given him. He'll go by the canal route. Then, then I can reach Amsterdam ahead of him by road. Oh, Cornelius, tell me whom to see there. Master Van Stysens. He's president of the Horticultural Society. His name is Henrik Van Stysens. Master Van Stysens, it's a young lady to see you. Your worship, I come to see you about the black tulip. Indeed. Can yous have reached the street so soon? I've only just completed my report on the black tulip. Report? Oh, then you've, you've seen it. Yes, it sat here on my desk not half an hour ago. But I'm too late. Oh, but your worship, if it was truly black in color. Of course it's black, completely black. Then your worship, it was stolen from me only this morning. My child, this is a ridiculous accusation. No, no, it's true. And I'm a very busy man. Now go away, my child, go away. This young girl is quite obviously mad. Can nothing be done about her? Our deepest apologies, Master Chilapar. But you must listen to me. My child, you may not intend to wrong. You may even be in the grip of a delusion. I am telling you the truth. Then tell us this. Observe how quickly she will display her pitiful ignorance. Tell us how the bulbs of the black tulip were produced. By what process? You know there is but one person in the world that can tell you that. He is a prisoner waiting to be executed. Perhaps you do know the process by which the bulbs were produced. But can you produce one of them now for us to see? The first bulb was a failure, yes. The second, the second produced the black tulip. And the third, the third bulb, Master Chilapar. There was no third bulb? You lie, you lie. The third bulb is here. It was wrapped in this piece of paper. The same paper, your lordship, in which the other two were wrapped when Cornelius gave them to me to keep for him. You expect us to believe such a... Whatever that is, it's no ordinary bulb. Let me see it, my child. It might be of interest to have it analyzed and... but what accounts for the blood stains on this piece of paper? Blood stains? Oh, I believe it's only writing, sir. Only writing, yes. But someone's blood provided the ink to... My child, are you aware of what this paper contains? I cannot read, sir. I only knew it contained the bulbs of the black tulip. It couldn't have. I tell you it couldn't have. I'm inclined to think it may have. Winstead, I want you to keep your eye on Master Chilapar. Use force, if necessary, to keep him here in Amsterdam. What, why? You and I, my child, will go at once to the town of Dorth and the black tulip goes with us. Oh, where they were rope waiting for you. Seems our hangmen here in Dorth aren't good enough for political prisoners. Come along. This procession through the streets is a nuisance, all right. But you might say the growing of a black tulip is cause for celebration. A black tulip? Yes, indeed. Grown right here in Dorth, I understand. All right, into the carriage. What's happening up the street? Seems part of the procession's heading this way. Eight or ten of them. They're sparing their horses. Fire on them! Fire! One guard accounted for. Look out for me, it's behind you! Cornelius fell beside the carriage. His friends overpowered the guards and carrying the wounded Cornelius and their coach raced from the city, heading toward a windmill on the plains whose great arms were moving against the wind. Quickly, he's lost a lot of blood. Place him over here. Cornelius! Oh, he's been wounded. Rosa! It is safe, Cornelius. And will flourish forever in the hearts of the people. Cornelius, this is Master Van Stysons. I have but little time to tell him. Oh, don't try to talk. He knows, Cornelius. It was the paper you would use to wrap the three bulbs in. On it was a message from your uncle. Message? Read it to him. Cornelius, if your tulip flowers black, your three brave bulbs may yet save Holland. Your uncle, John Dewitt. Now. It lies ahead of us. There was so much you wanted to do for Holland. Do not think because he is dead that his service to Holland is over. A hundred thousand florins is but a part of the legacy he leaves to his countrymen. Men will rise fully armed, but if we're to succeed, every man who carries a weapon in his hands must carry a symbol in his heart. In all times, in all places, this is true. And so the black tulip served as a symbol for the people of Holland, but its secret died with Cornelius. No other has ever been seen from that time to this. Still the legacy of Cornelius Van Barel is not forgotten. Every man who dies in the cause of freedom leaves some legacy of freedom to his countrymen. In all times, in all places, this is true. I'd like to recall a rather interesting fact to your attention. It's this. There's a very definite connection between courage and prayer. I don't mean crazy courage, cockiness, bragging, or just boldness, but a never-doubting deep-down courage, the kind that comes from somewhere beyond our mortal vision. The courage born of a man's faith and trust in God. We all know we're not ashamed to say a prayer together when we're really in trouble, but doesn't it seem to you that we wouldn't get into so many tight spots if we asked God for his help a little sooner? God means more to all of us than our differences mean to each of us. Together and with him, we are given a strength to face our problems and the power to overcome them. That's one reason why a family that prays together stays together. More things are wrought by prayer than this world greens up. Host and narrator. Others in our cast were Julie Bennett, Bill Johnstone, Charles Seal, Tudor Owen, Stan Waxman, Shepherd Menken, and Michael Hayes. The black tulip, based on an old Dutch legend, was adapted for Family Theatre by Peter Rankin, with music composed and conducted by Harry Zimmerman. Was directed for Family Theatre by J. F. Mansfield. This series of Family Theatre broadcasts made possible by the thousands of you who felt the need for this type of program, by the mutual network which has responded to this need, and by the hundreds of stars of stage, screen, and radio who have so unselfishly given of their time and talent to appear on our Family Theatre stage. To them and to you, our humble thanks. This is Gene Baker expressing the wish of Family Theatre that the blessing of God may be upon you and your home and inviting you to join us next week at this time Family Theatre will present Vanessa Brown, Richard Denning, and Regis Toomey in Lock and Bow. Join us, won't you?