 The Cavalcade of America presented by DuPont. 148 years ago this week, George Washington was inaugurated as the first president of the United States. Every schoolboy knows his record as patriot, soldier, and statesman. It is not perhaps so generally known that his greatest pride was to have been named also America's first scientific farmer. If George Washington were distinguished for nothing else, he would still merit a place of honor in American history for his far-sighted efforts to conserve the soil and forest for future generations and for establishing the occupation of farming in the front rank of honorable profession. Undoubtedly he would have been greatly interested in the work of today's research chemist and the aid he has given agriculture. In no other line of endeavor does the science of chemistry so aptly live up to the DuPont pledge, better things for better living through chemistry. Don Voorhees and the DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra bring us as an overture here in my arms from the colonial operetta Dearest Enemy by Rogers and Hart. In 1783, after eight years of unselfish leadership of the American people in their struggle for independence, George Washington laid aside his sword and took up the plow. One afternoon shortly after his return to his farm in Virginia, he is seated at the desk in his study, reading a detailed report of his crops. His overseer, John Alton, who had prepared the report, watches him anxiously. Destroyed by drought and cinchworms. Tobacco dropped in sharply in quality. The report is discussed in General Washington. I'm sorry, sir. Don't think I sent you, John. But I shall hold myself to blame if I don't take steps to remedy matters at once. Excuse me, General, but even you can't do anything to improve our nature, sir. When the drought comes, the corn is ruined. And as for tobacco, sir... Well, all the folks in Virginia know what tobacco does to the soil. Yes, every planter knows that growing tobacco defeats the soil. Yet none of us have done anything about it. Nothing to do but what we all do, General Washington, when the soil's worn out, till fresh fields in the wilderness. Excuse me, Mark George. Yes, William? Governor Randolph done come. He's talking with Miss Martyn along with now. Thank you, William. Will you ask him to come in here, please? Ask Miss Martyn to come, too, if she wishes. Yes, sir. I'll be getting back to the farm, General. I'm sorry, the report is so discouraging. It's not your fault, John. You've worked faithfully and well during these many years that I've been away. Your report will be helpful, making future plans. I'll talk with you at greater length in a few days. Thank you, General. And I might say, sir, we're happy to have you back on the farm. Thank you, John. Good day, sir. Good day. Governor Randolph of Virginia. Randolph, welcome to Mount Vernon. I'm happy to see you and Mrs. Washington again, General Washington. I tried to persuade Governor Randolph to stay with us overnight, George, but he declares he must return to Alexandria before sundown. You must think poorly of our hospitality, Randolph. I'd like not better than to remain, General. But the assembly's in session and I must return. Frankly, I've come on state business today. I've come to plead with you to accept those two blocks of stock. Surely you've reconsidered. I'm sorry, Randolph. I cannot accept that you give. With the most generous of motives, the Virginia assembly voted to give you blocks of stock in the Potomac and James River Company. Your refusal to accept places us in an embarrassing predicament. The members will be offended. I am deeply grateful to them, Randolph. But such a gift savers too much of a pension. I am capable of supporting myself and my family. I lose all self-respect if I accepted your generous gift. But, General Washington, this is in no sense a pension. It means only that Virginia's proud of you. Randolph, I refuse payment from the federal government for my wartime services. Everyone in America knows that, General. They know, too, that you lost most of your fortune. They know you have no dependable source of income. No profession. No profession, did you say, Governor Randolph? Take care, Governor. You offended my husband. Oh, I meant no offense, General. But it is an evident fact that the bulk of your fortune is gone. You are neither a doctor nor a lawyer. I may not be a doctor or a lawyer, Randolph, but I do have a profession. A profession? And I intend to make it the most honorable profession in this land. I am a farmer, Governor, and proud of it. Farming, a profession? But it's so uncertain. One year crops prosper and the next they fail. I intend to spend the rest of my life learning why they prosper and why they fail. I plan to earn a living here on this plantation, Randolph, without a pension from the government. Washington continued to face the serious problem of establishing his 3,000-acre plantation on a paying basis. He corresponded with noted agricultureists in England, and at length he arrived at the number of startling and far-reaching decisions which he ordered his overseers to put into effect at once. A few days after these drastic orders have been issued, Dr. James Craig, Washington's personal physician and friend, is seated on the veranda at Mount Vernon when John Alton, Washington's overseer, approaches. Dr. Craig, may I have a word in private with you, sir? I'm John Alton, overseer of the next plantation. How do you do, Alton? Do you mean your words are not for General Washington's ears? Yes, sir. That's just what I do mean, sir. The other overseers asked me to speak for them, too, sir. What's this? Rebellion? No, sir. Not of that sort. We... we wish to ask you, doctor, to speak to General Washington to save him from himself, sir. To save him? Speak up, man. What does this mean? Them wild ideas. They come back from the war with, sir. Wild ideas? Take care. Every man on the plantation worships General Washington. We all know that for eight years he worked day and night fighting the British. And the men who have frozen to death at Valley Forge say that one winter alone was enough to make any man crazy. If you're implying that General Washington is crazy... Well, not exactly, sir. But you're his doctor. You're with him in the regiment. You could reason with him about these wild schemes for farming. Wild schemes? Only three days ago, he gave orders to stop planting tobacco altogether. He must have good reason. Well, he says tobacco ruins the soil. He says that in fifty or a hundred years, the soil of Mount Vernon will be worth it. Well, that's true, but he has three thousand acres here and many more under cultivation. Now, why should he worry about wasting land, sir? What has he ordered you to plant in place of tobacco? Oh, outlandish things that grow in all the countries in the world. Siberian wheat and buckwheat and seeds from China. Irish potatoes and carrots and peas, and that ain't all, sir. He's planned to waste hundreds of acres in grasslands. Grasslands? For cattle? Yes, sir. For cattle and to make the soil richer. He said cattle need good pasture lands, though in my opinion, sir, they're always done well enough on weeds. Alton, General Washington has always spoken of you as one of his most faithful assistants. As implicit confidence in you. And I'm proud of his trust in me, doctor. But that's why I came to you today. I hate to see him try out these wild schemes and die a poor man. I want to save him, sir. Because you are a loyal servant to General Washington, I'll say nothing to him of this conversation. But I'm ashamed of you. Ashamed of me, doctor? Yes. There's only one way you can repay his confidence in you. What's that, sir? By having equal faith in him. During the war, there were many men who criticized him. There were many who said his military tactics would lead the country to certain defeat. But he triumphed. Did he not hold? Of course, sir. The greatest general that ever lived. And while I know little of farming, I'll wager my last cent. His ideas and experiments in agriculture will be equally successful. I'll warrant you'll be ashamed of having doubted him for a moment. In five years or less, you'll be grateful to me for not having told General Washington of your lack of confidence in his judgment. I... I didn't think of it that way, sir. If I were you, I'd get back to your farm and start planting that Siberian wheat. The DuPont Cavalcade moves forward. In July of the year 1787, during a recess of the Constitutional Convention in Philadelphia, George Washington proposed to his friend, Governor Morris, a trip to Valley Forest. Morris took along his fishing rod, but Washington's interest was not in trout. On their drive through the beautiful Pennsylvania River, on their drive through the beautiful Pennsylvania countryside, he had observed a well-cultivated farm. And leaving Governor Morris beside a trout stream, he turned and rode back toward this farm. He dismounts and hails the lad who is sowing seed close to the road. Can you spare a few minutes, son? I'd like to ask some questions about farming. Questions, sir? Yes. Do you grow buckwheat? I serve. Only last week we finished on the seed. Excuse me, I'm a farmer, too. I've been anxious to learn the proper season for sowing buckwheat. Well, my father thinks you get the best result by sowing from the 10th to the 20th of July. I remember that. Do you plow the fields more than once? Oh, yes, sir. Two plowings at the very least, and the same number of harrowings. I see. And, uh, may I ask, what is your average crop to the acre? 25 bushels, sir. 25? Why? You've been far more successful than I. Two plowing, you should say. And, uh, how much seed do you allow to an acre? Three packs to the acre. See? And, uh, what fertilizer do you use? Well, we're getting good results with plaster of Paris. Well, now I'm glad to hear that. Two years ago, I began to experiment with plaster of Paris. I'm the only man in my neighborhood who uses it, but I'm convinced it's good. When I return home, I shall tell my neighbors about your fine farm, son, and recommend that they follow your methods. Your home is in Pennsylvania, is it, sir? No. I come from Virginia. Well, I am deeply grateful to you, my boy. I should feel honored if you and your father would visit my plantation someday. I live on the Potom. Thank you, sir. That was our never journey so far. We're kept busy from sunup tonight while on the farm. It's only too well. I rise at sunup, too. Ah, not enough hours in the day when one is a farmer. Oh, boy. Oh, boy. You gave me a fight. I missed you when feared an accident. Oh, forgive me, Morris. You were so deeply engrossed in fishing, I did nothing to tell you that I was coming to seek advice of this land. General Washington? Are you truly General Washington? Oh, forgive me. I didn't know... I was General Washington, my boy. I'm a clean farmer now. At the end of my days, I hope. Well, I feel privileged to have talked with you, son. This is the finest farm I've ever seen. Oh, thank you, General. And if ever you come to Virginia, I shall attempt to repay your kindness. And I'd like to show you my deep plow. It's my own invention. I'm truly proud of that accomplishment. Well, good day, my boy. And thank you very much. Good day, General Washington. Father! Father! Yes, what is it, John? Father, General George Washington was here. General Washington? Aye, he talked with me. And he invited us to visit him at Mount Vernon. And he said this is the finest farm he has ever seen. To think it was General Washington. And I talked to him as one would talk to any neighbor. It was not until September of that year, 1787, that the Constitutional Convention was concluded. Once again, George Washington returned to his farm in Virginia. Convinced that this time, he would never leave. But in 1788, his close friend James Madison came to visit him at Mount Vernon. Washington welcomed him warmly. And now after dinner, he is discussing jubilantly the condition of his plantation. Ah, forgive me for boasting, Madison. But my overseers thought I was crazy when I gave up growing tobacco and experimented with new methods and with a variety of crops. You know, General Washington, I've never known a man so engrossed in farming. It's the most satisfying occupation in the world. It is honorable, amusing, and with judicious management, profitable. Really? I had always thought it was a precarious business. It need not be. I would be content if I feel I bequeathed the few constructive ideas to the future farmers of America. And you are truly content then to remain a private citizen of farmer. No man has ever been more sincere than I in saying that he has turned his back on public life forever. I served my country to the best of my ability during the war. But now, at my time of life, I feel that my greatest service is as a farmer. There are men who would dispute that. I am proving to my neighbors that the single crop system is ruinous. That fertilizer is essential to the soil. That young trees must be planted to replace those that have been cut down. That cattle need good pastureland. Such victories are less spectacular than those of war, but they are equally important to our nation. General Washington, you make it difficult for me to tell you why I'm here. I... I scarcely know how to broach the subject. Have you brought bad news, Madison? It is news which will disturb you, I fear. You best tell me at once. Bring an invitation, almost a command, to leave your farm for a third time. To leave? At my time of life? Alexander Hamilton and I have spent these past weeks sounding public opinion. I bring you the results of our inquiries. Yes. We find there is only one man whom the American people will accept as their first president. One man was loved and respected by young and old, rich and poor That man, sir, is you. Are you sure of this, Madison? You are one of my closest friends. You may be prejudiced. I am such a friend of yours, I'd never mention the matter if there are any doubt in my mind. You are indispensable. Upon your decision to a great degree, rest the future of our country. You will not refuse to accept the responsibility. No man in the world could place personal preference above public duty. Mr. Hamilton said that would be your decision. Few men will ever know the personal sacrifice you are making. Yet, to you have been given honors which rarely fall to the lot of one man. You're a man of destiny, General Washington. And yet, I know you speak the truth when you say you would have preferred to live and die a simple farmer. The votes of the electors have been counted on April 6th, 1789. It was found that George Washington had unanimously been elected as President of the United States. On April 30th, 1789, the streets of New York City are thronged with spectators. General Washington has just been escorted in triumphal procession from his house on Cherry Street to Federal Hall to take the oath of office. On the balcony of his house, directly opposite Federal Hall, Alexander Hamilton, soon to be the first Secretary of the Treasury, stands with several guests. I think, General Hamilton, General Washington is well today. And yet, he entered Federal Hall for solemnly. His eyes looked almost sad. Southerly, he feels the weight of responsibility. He is America's Cincinnati. Cincinnati? Oh, that, General Hamilton. Your words are so often above the heads of us poor ladies. Cincinnati, my dear young lady, was a farmer hero of ancient Rome who was twice called from his plow to serve his country. And today, entered Rome in triumph with large spoils and that very night returned to his farm. But I, I don't understand. You mean that General Washington would prefer to remain on his farm? General Washington, a farmer? Oh, you're joking, General Hamilton. He's a soldier and statement. If you had seen General Washington's last letter to me before the electoral vote was taken, you would not say I'm joking. Oh, but there's not a man in America who has been with him today. The first president of the United States by my husband says his every word. His every official act will set an example for future presidents to follow. Why, yes. Anyone can be a farmer. General Washington has unusual ideas about farming. He calls it the noblest of all professions and insists it requires constant study and experiment. I tell you, he's setting one precedent here today that I pray God all future Americans will follow. You're unusually solid, General Hamilton, but you're mean. It is a precedent which will go far towards making this the greatest country on Earth. It's the deed of a true patriot. He is placing public duty before all personal ambitions. Do you mean he honestly doesn't want the honor of being first president of the United States? He would have declined had there been one other man whom the people would have accepted as president. Then I sympathize with him. There's no other man I could wish to see take the oath of office today. Oh, here comes Chancellor Livingston out of the balcony. Brilliant minutes for the oath now, General Hamilton. I presume so. It was Washington's desire that the oath be administered in full view of all the people. I'm so excited. I want Mr. O'Washington as nervous as I am about to speak. Mr. Otis holds the Bible. You columnist swear that I will faithfully execute the office of president of the United States. And will to the best of my ability preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States. Come live, George Washington! George Washington accepted the second term of office because of insistent public demand. But he was firm in refusing a third term. In the year 1797, he returned to his beloved Mount Vernon where he passed the last two remaining years of his life. In his final message to Congress, he recommended the establishment of a federal Department of Agriculture as being of vital importance to the nation. Like Cincinnati's warrior hero of ancient Rome, he performed his duties to the state cheerfully and without complaint. But the first and true love of his life remained his farm on the Potomac. DuPont salutes George Washington in the words of light horse Harry Lee, first in war, first in peace, first in the hearts of his countrymen, and also as one of America's first scientific farmers. In George Washington's day, most Americans lived on farms and raised their own food. Since that time, great cities have grown up with millions dependent upon the farmer for their food, thereby making him more essential to our welfare than ever before. And today, research chemistry is helping farming tremendously. Just the other day, I saw a good example of this in Wilmington, Delaware, where I attended the opening of a new DuPont laboratory in Greenhouse. This laboratory is devoted entirely to pest control research, and it is the most complete of its kind in the world. I asked one of the DuPont chemists why they go to so much trouble and expense just to study bugs and such pests, and he said, is this new DuPont laboratory going to experiment on all the scores of insect pests I've heard about? Well, naturally, we go after the most destructive pests first. One of our most recent developments, for example, is a spray that repels the jabs of insect pests that have been used in the past for a long period of time. And this is a new DuPont laboratory that is going to experiment on all the scores of insect pests I've heard about. This is a spray that repels the Japanese beetle. Bad news for the beetle, but good news for us. Is your work here principally on sprays? I wouldn't say that. You know, the chemist does quite a lot of things for the farmer. He developed explosives to clear farmland, ditches, and drain swamps. He discovered how to treat seeds chemically so they'll grow better. Chemistry gives the farmer many types of fertilizers for the soil. And when the plants poke their heads the chemist provides sprays and dusting powders to protect him from all sorts of pests. Then after the harvest there are chemical products which guard perishable foods until they reach your table. Well, with all that accomplished, why carry on? Because new pests are always springing up requiring new controls. And because we're trying to improve the products we have. Well, tell us, how long has DuPont conducted research to control pests? And right now an affiliate of the DuPont company is building still another laboratory in Delaware. This one will work only on fungicides for treating seeds and soils and growing plants. And so we see how such work means a lot to everybody's pocketbook. For chemistry by helping the farmer increase yields and cut crop losses affect savings all along the line. In this partnership we see one more example of how the research chemist is at work for you and me creating as DuPont phrases it better things for better living through chemistry. Songs of the South the development of folk music and stories of how some of the old melodies came into being will be the subject of our broadcast when next week at the same time DuPont again presents the Cablecade of America with the Columbia Broadcasting System.