 Dupont, maker of better things for better living through chemistry, presents the Cavalcade of America, starring Charles Lawton. Good evening, this is Charles Lawton. Tonight we have set ourselves a difficult task. We want to bring to you a dramatic portrait, a picture of a great human being in action at a critical moment in time. The man, Benjamin Franklin, the moment, September the 10th, 1776, when for an hour or two the fate of all the English-speaking peoples wavered in balance across a conference table on Staten Island, and the difficulty to make our picture true, true to the humanity and the greatness of the incomparable Dr. Franklin. But we let Benjamin Franklin tell the story himself, shall we? The incomparable Dr. Starring Charles Lawton as Benjamin Franklin. As I remember, it was two months after the signing of the Declaration of Independence, a few days after General Washington's defeat in the Battle of Long Island. On this day I arose, according to my habit at five o'clock, having attended to my correspondence, I turned to a certain experiment concerning ants and a jar of molasses. Dear, dear, dear, that will do it, I'm afraid. Father! Sure enough, here she comes, I did it. Father, what on earth is that noise? Look at the floor. What is it, Frank? Those molasses there are just molasses and a few harmless ants. A few ants? Why, there are hundreds of them all over the best carpet. What were you doing? An experiment, my dear. Oh, another experiment. As you see, I have formed the opinion that ants possess some manner of communication. One was the other, some form of speech, you understand? Talking ants was up-nonsense. Oh, but that is not nonsense, daughter. I have proved that ants do convert or perhaps signal to each other. Unfortunately, however, I dropped the molasses part and it was full of ants. And so my carpet is ruined. If ants can talk, well, who cares? It is spoken, child, like your own sweet, beloved mother, who once thought it extremely undignified of me as a grown man to go around flying kites in the rain. No woman was ever a philosopher, thank heaven for that. Now what? Oh, there's someone at the door. Oh, the piphon at wrap? No, of course not. There's the children in the kitchen. Well, we are beset, apparently, front and rear. Would you see to our visitor when I prepare to repel the invaders? I don't ever mind them less. Oh dear, sometimes I wish I was three piphonette's knees. Pee, gee, gee, bee, bee... Company of... Benjamin Willie... and shot! What can I do for you? Have you seen any Red Roach grandfather who's scouting for ginger Kundenback? Well, don't mind him, sir. Willie, you can't shoot grandfather. Oh, I don't know. I might just as well be thereis feeling the way I do this morning. You playing soldiers? Yes, sir. Thank you. Turn it to me, Dad. No, no, no. Didn't we? Boys, soldiers, fellow Continentals, how would you like to earn a shilling of peace? Oh, fine, sir. How? Father. In just a minute, boys. Yes, sir. Mr. Goodhugh is to you, father, by appointment, he says. Goodhugh? Goodhugh? I don't remember him. Show him. Show him. Right this way, Mr. Goodhugh. Yes, thank you. Bang, bang. He said. Mr. Goodhugh, would you kindly ignore these irregular troops and have a chair? Watch out for the molasses on the floor. Molasses, Doctor? Yes, we often have molasses on the floor. It's good for the carpet. Boys? Yes, sir. Here's a shilling of peace for you to put in your bank. You understand? Yes, sir. Now, what do you say you go hunt for redcoats outside and market things? Yes, sir. Now, Mr. Goodhugh, now that we've dispersed the rebels, what can I do for you? I wrote to you some days ago, Doctor, from New York. On the advice of Mr. James Parker. Oh, Parker, goodhugh. Yes, I remember. Now, you're the gentleman who wishes to establish a printing house in Barbados. Yes, sir. Now, you ask for a loan of 50 pounds, and? I've scrimped and saved, Doctor, for 15 years. And now? Now, this is your great opportunity, huh? Well, sir, you still, you shall have your chance after reading your letter and Parker's. I had already decided. Doctor, I don't know how to. Don't try to thank me, Mr. Goodhugh. Yes, here's the money. I shall pay back every cent, Doctor, within a year at the most. My prospects are. Your prospects are excellent. The real estate has not handed you 50 pounds. I don't want you to pay me back. You don't want to be paid? No, no, a year or so from now, when you have discharged your other debts, as I am sure you will do, look about you for another honest man in need. Lend him my 50 pounds, sir, and joining him to discharge the debt by a like operation when he shall be able. Thus my loan may go through many hands before it meets with a knave to stop it, Father. Marvelous idea, Doctor. No, no. It's just a shabby trick of mine for doing a deal of good with a little money. I'm not rich enough to afford much in good work, since I'm obliged to be cunning and make the most of a little. Father, there's a carriage at the curb. For you, the driver says, but you didn't count any. Oh, yes, yes, yes. Mr. Goodhugh, you will excuse me, sir. I must be off at work. Just a moment. In your letter, I believe you said that you had been apprenticed for a time in the shop of a chemist before becoming a printer. Why, yes. In Boston, I... If you send it, then perhaps you'll know of some substance, some chemical capable of removing molasses stained from fine carpet. Why? I'm sure you do. Sir, Mr. Goodhugh here will help you with your problem. Good day, Mr. Goodhugh. Goodbye, my dear. But, Father, you haven't even told me where you're going. Oh, uh, yeah, yeah. That's through the British lines, my dear, to Staten Island. What? To the headquarters of Lord Richard Howe. Take good care of Benjamin and Willie, sir. Oh, Mr. Goodhugh. Yes, Doctor. If you succeed in removing the molasses stained, write to me and tell me how you did it. I may be old and tired, but I'm still curious. Good fortune in Barbados. Good fortune to you, sir. May God go with him. Poor Father. Poor, Mrs. Base? Your Father's the richest man in all the colonies. Perhaps in all the world. He has wisdom and courage and love. And so we rode from Philadelphia to New Brunswick to a long rainy September day. My companion that morning was young Edward Rutledge of South Carolina, a 27th member of the Continental Congress. Three commissioners had been appointed by the Congress to meet with Lord Howe. There was Rutledge, myself, and that pompous, stubborn, but very able Bostonian, John Adams. The crowd is cavern in New Brunswick. We met with stuff. Doctor Franklin, sir, may I suggest that you remonstrate with the idiot who manages this, this, this Hubble? Perhaps you can persuade him as one. I have tried, Adams. I have tried. There is only one room we can occupy in the inn, and we must share it all set up all night. And I warn you, I snore most dreadfully. Oh, dear. May I suggest, Doctor, that you sum up for us your view of the situation we face tomorrow. Oh, gladly, Mr. Rutledge. Well, it is more than one view possible. The whole thing is a humbug, a trap, sir. A device to place a blame for war on the Continental Congress. That may be true, Adams, but here is the problem, as I see it. One, General Washington is badly beaten on Long Island and General Sullivan is captured. Two, General Sullivan is returned to us in Philadelphia, Hale and Hardy, with a message from House suggesting a conference on peace terms. New peace terms. Which terms Sullivan could not clearly describe to the Congress? Because those terms do not in fact exist. Sullivan has let himself be used as a decoy duck. That is possible, yes. But we cannot afford to assume that it is true. Your advice, then, Doctor? Well, let us proceed on the moral with an open mind, but with the greatest care. Lord Hale is a man of honor. I knew him in London and I know he himself sincerely desires a peaceful settlement. Do you want peace, sir? Do you want to see all our work undone? There never was a good war, Adams, nor a bad peace. It takes two to end the quarrel. And I share your doubts concerning the good intent of Lord Hale's masters in London. In London, yes. I happen to know, sir. The King's Ministers have a little list, sir. A list of those amongst us who can hope for no pardon under any form of settlement. Those of us who will most surely hang. Doctor, my name heads at least. Naturally, in the alphabetical circumstances, Mr. Adams. I hope the list includes my own name, sir, down among the F. Nevertheless, can we not approach Lord Hale in one mind? An open one? Doctor Franklin, you were chosen to lead this mission, sir. I shall follow your lead, unless and until your words run counter to my own convictions. Now, with your permission, sir, I shall retire. Good night, gentlemen. Good night, Adam. And I, sir, must be off to my own lodging. You are fortunate in finding friends and new branches, Mr. Rutledge. I shall have only the company of Adams all night. And I think I'll postpone that pleasure by writing a few letters. Well, it's after midnight, Doctor. And we must be off again at dawn. Old men need little sleep, son. Good night, sir. Good night, Dr. Franklin. Ah, let me see. Let me see. Let me see. Good night. Yeah. Dr. Priestlin, in regard to my theory concerning communication among ants and sending you here with a description. Mr. Harden, sir. Yes, madam. You're Dr. Franklin, the great Dr. Franklin. I am Benjamin Franklin, ma'am, yes. My name is Wilkins, sir. Mary Wilkins. I've been running the tavern here. Best I could with four lad. You saw as my only help. And this my husband is with the army. No, he was killed, Dr. Franklin, on Long Island. And our son, our only son was down the way with it, Bunker Hill, last year. My dear woman, I am shocked and sorry. It isn't true, is it? It can't be true what the soldiers are saying. What are the soldiers saying? That Congress is making peace with the British. That they're selling out the army. That you're going to howl to surrender. That my husband and my son gave their lives for nothing. Nothing. Nothing. No, no, that Mrs. Wilkins. Mrs. Wilkins. Don't we? Don't we? Don't we? Don't we? But is it true? Is it true? No, ma'am. No, ma'am. That is not true. We are going to meet with Lord Howell, yes. But I give you my word, Mrs. Wilkins, that we shall do nothing in our negotiations to dishonor the sacrifice made by your husband and your son. All right. I believe you, doctor. Most people do, ma'am, since I always tell the truth. But now, I think I'll change the mind. I'll retire, which you kindly show me in the room, ma'am. Right. Just wait, doctor. Oh, sorry. It's so small. Only one window. Mr. Adams, complain, most visited. Very like, Mr. Adams. Here we are. Good night, doctor. Good night, ma'am. Remember my word. Oh, Lord, this is small indeed. No chimney. No window. Window closed, of course. We'll soon see the rest. All right. I tell you what, Franklin, you're not opening the window. Of course I'm opening the window, my dear Adam. With the night air, doctor, we'll catch our deaths of cold. I, sir, already have a cold. If I leave that window down, you'll have one, too, in the morning. Colds are caused not by night air, as silly old wives believe, but by the absence of clean air and confined quarters. And on that point, I can give you positive experimental proof. Both of you wish to learn about my investigation into the cause of the common cold? All right, just sleep again. Young men nowadays have no stamina, no curiosity. I wouldn't have said I ever got the molasses of applause. You are listening to the incomparable doctors starring Charles Lawson on the Cavalcade of America, sponsored by the DuPont Company, makers of better things for better living through chemistry. In a dark hour, during our war for independence, Benjamin Franklin, in company with John Adams and Edward Rutledge, has left Philadelphia on a mission to confer with the British commander Lord Howe on Staten Island. Seized by Lord Howe with polite ceremony and every convenience, including a company of very large Hessean grenadiers drawn up at attention in our honor. The headquarters we were served, bread, tongues, and cold hammers, I recall, were the most excellent carrot. Even Adams, for bought and frowned at the wine, but his customary expression returned as soon as Lord Howe began. And now, gentlemen, to the matter of our meeting. I trust the few in particular, Dr. Franklin, are sensible of my personal desire for the ends of peace. I shall always be grateful for the help you and your charming sister afforded me in London toward those ends. I lingered two months in London, doctor, in order to obtain from His Majesty the power to make peace rather than war. And I succeeded in that endeavor. But whilst I strove for peace, your Congress has declared for independence. It must be understood that I cannot treat with you officially as representatives of a revolutionary confederation. What did I tell you, Franklin? This whole affair is a useless waste of time. Now, to Adams refuses to believe, sir, that you have any real news to give us. He denies that you have authority to treat on any new basis, whatever. That authority I do have, as I told your General Sullivan. But my writ does not run to the granting of status to a rebel Congress. I am compelled to protect myself. I must treat you simply as three gentlemen of ability and influence as private, just and nothing. Now, Mr. Adams, an open mind. Perhaps a compromise in etiquette can be arranged. Let Lord Howell look upon us in any view he finds convenient. We, in turn, shall be at liberty to consider ourselves and our real character. Very well. Does Mr. Adams object? You may consider me a private gentleman, my lord, if you wish, or in any other character, except that of a British subject. And so it went back and forth for three endless hours. During every second of those hours, I searched for that impossible, final, last, dear hope of peace, peace with independence and honor. So did Lord Howell after his fashion music. It was not simple. This revolution that you've read about. It was not a case of red-coated villains against faintly heroes in continental Basin blue. It was a complex and mixed up affair like your own life and your own time. Your life and your time were in the balance then in that farmhouse on Staten Island when young Rutledge said, In all honest, friendly, fellow feeling, may I urge upon your lordship, the advantages Britain might obtain from an alliance with these independent states. Allied as co-equal partners, my lord, we might lead the world and bring peace and plenty to every corner of the globe. As subject, sir, we have cost you money and blood and that cost will mount and mount and mount so long as you try to keep us in subjection. As friends and equals, there would be no limit to the prosperity and the dignity we might mutually achieve. If you will but recognize our independence, sir. Independence. There, gentlemen, I'm afraid, is the heart of our dispute. Is there no way of treading back with this rash step of rebellion and so opening the door to a full discussion of the new terms I bring? Your new terms, lord, how do not then encompass the possibility of independence or even the possibility of a discussion No, doctor, may do not. Alas, may do not, I see. Well, then I fear we three have traveled along where they rode to no purpose. The step of independence was the inevitable result of many earlier steps. We were forced down every inch of that path. We were forced by fire and sword toward the end. Now, sir, our American independence and our American honor are one. May I quote? These colonies are and of right ought to be free and independent states. Now, my lord, we shall take our long. If you must. If you must. End about time. Come along, roughly. I'm coming, doctor. Stay for a moment, doctor. You understand, you lot. You understand. But you are a man of good will. I do so believe, lord, how? At 70, I understand too many things. I wanted peace, doctor, with all my heart. But could I betray my king? And I wanted peace, my lord, with all my heart, with all my will, with all my mind. But could I betray my country? We are victims, sir, victims of history and heartless time. One day, perhaps, many, many long centuries. Hence, the world will be ruled by men of reason and fortitude and human-heartedness. But now, now I'll ask the children rule with their little toy drums and their deadly little bullets and their cherished falsehoods. And so, my dear good friends, henceforth you are my enemy. I am yours. May God bless you and destroy your armies. Dr. Franklin, sir, what happened? What happened with Lord Hall? Nothing happened, Mary. Nothing has changed. The war will go on. Does that make you happy? Yes. Yes, it does. For my boy, for my husband and for myself. Yeah. And I'm glad that the news makes you happy. Well, well, I had done my best, as at least I knew, back in the stuffy little room with Adams that night. Well, I must admit, Franklin, you surprised me. I had thought last night you intended to yield. I... I could seal the rope around my neck. Ponder not too often upon that noose, my friend, with the help of God and General Washington, we'll yet escape His Majesty's gallows. The help of God, sir? You surprised me again, doctor. I didn't know you were a religious man. Yeah, well, I can seal that fact as best I can. But tonight, after the event we have witnessed, John, would you join me in a prayer? It's one that I composed myself. It's a manner of litany, and I try to offer it up at least once a day. I must say, Dr. Franklin, I'm too tired for praying, but if you wish, all you'll need to do is to join in the responses. John, my prayer goes like this. That I may be preserved from atheism and infidelity, impiety, and profaneness, and in my addresses to thee, carefully avoid irreverence and ostentation, formality and odious hypocrisy. Help me, O Father. John, say it, help me, O Father. Help me, O Father. That I may be sincere in friendship, faithful in trust, and impartial in judgment, watchful against pride and against anger at moments of madness, John. Help me, O Father. That I may be honest and open-hearted, gentle, merciful, and good, cheerful in spirit, rejoicing in the good of others. Rejoicing in the good of others, John. Oh, there is a sleep again. When it takes only one to make a prayer, and for as much as in gratitude is one of the most odious of vices, let me be not unmindful, grateful to acknowledge the favors I received from heaven, for peace and liberty, for food and raiment, for corn and wine and milk, and every kind of healthful nourishment. Good God, I thank thee, for the common benefits of air and light, for useful fire and delicious water. Good God, I thank thee, for all thy innumerable benefits for life and reason and the use of speech for health and joy in every pleasant hour. My good God, I thank thee. Amen. Amen. It is so good. But thanks to Charles Lawson and our care for tonight's cavalcade story, the incomparable doctor. Next week, cavalcade will present two Hollywood stars, Joan Caulfield and John Lund. Our broadcast coming to you on this occasion from Nashville, Tennessee will tell of Sam Davis, a Confederate scout who died on the gallows rather than betray his trust. Be sure to listen to cavalcade next week and our stars, John Lund and Joan Caulfield. Tonight's original cavalcade play, the incomparable doctor, was written by George Faulkner. Charles Lawson may soon be seen in the RKO release, The Man on the Eiffel Tower. Appearing with Mr. Lawson tonight were Kathleen Cordell as Sarah, Ivan Curry as Young Benjamin, Tommy Rhettig as Willie, Melville Rueck as Mr. Goodhugh, Scott Tennyson as Mr. John Adams, Elliott Reed as Rutledge, Catherine Grill as Mrs. Wilkins, and Guy Spall as General Howell. Music was composed by Arden Cornwell and conducted by Donald Voorhees. The program was directed by John Zoller. Ladies and gentlemen, this is Ted Pearson. This week, on the seventh anniversary of his death, cavalcade joins with the entire civilized world in honoring George Washington Carver. Born of slave parents, Dr. Carver rose to become one of the nation's best known scientists. His achievements in agriculture and scientific research produced additional riches from the soil of America's Southland. And let us not forget that George Washington Carver worked unselfishly in honor and humility for the benefits of all men. Cavalcade of America comes to you from the stage of the Belasco Theater in New York and is presented by the DuPont Company of Warmington, Delaware. Makers of better things for better living through chemistry. Stay tuned for the Baby Snook Show followed by Bob Hope on NBC.