 The DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware, makers of better things for better living through chemistry, presents the Cavalcade of America. Tonight's star, Douglas Fairbanks. Tonight's story, a new commandment. By the calendar 1847, by the chart, 78 degrees west longitude, 11 degrees 14 minutes north latitude. The schooner-made Marion is in the blue-green waters of the Caribbean and headed towards her home port of Boston. Mr. McGinnis. Hi, Captain Sullivan. In half an hour, pipe all hands on deck for Sunday services. Hi, hi. Oh, well, Margaret, good morning. How pretty you look. Well, I hope so. How would it be if the captain's lady on her first voyage appeared for Sabbath services all frowsy and disorderful? That wouldn't be possible. I only wish my crew took to the services pleasantly as usual. Say hello! Can you make her out? Keep her in view. Hi, hi, sir. Tom, why should she be headed across our course? Now, how would I know that, Margaret? Maybe a lonesome sailor just hankering for some company on the long cruise north? We'll see you soon enough. Captain Sullivan, sir. You're not in dress uniform, Mr. McGinnis. Uniform be hanged. Do you see what's coming up beside us? That schooner yonder, yes. Yes, I've been watching her a while. What of it? She's Latin rigged. I'm aware of her dressing, Mr. McGinnis. Well, there's only one schooner rigged like that on this coast. The Esmeralda. I've seen a dozen schooners Latin rigged from Rio to Barranquilla. It's the Esmeralda. Look out! Can you make out what color that schooner flies? She shows no colors, sir. Well, Captain, what are that? Well, if it is the Esmeralda, we shall have the privilege of entertaining a pirate captain at Sabbath service. Don Juan Hernandez, the bloodiest buccaneer to fly this coast since the villainous Morgan. In ten minutes, I want all hands for it in proper dress. That includes you, Mr. McGinnis. You're not going to fight. I never fight on the Sabbath. It's contrary to my disposition. She's crowded on more canvas. She'll be alongside us in a matter of minutes. Do you think it is the Esmeralda, Tom? Yes. Yes, I recognize her through the glass, Margaret. Stun Juan Hernandez, all right? I heard some talk of him at Cartagena. Oh, he's been terrorizing all shipping in these waters for years now. The last I heard of that pirate, he'd moved up the coast to Honduras, but it seems he's back at his old stand now. Will he board you? I expect he will. What will you do? I've set a course for my life. And now, because of storm threatens, I will not turn off and run before the wind. I will not profane the Lord's day. I'll not fight. Captain, they've sent a shot across our bow. I ask you again, Captain. I beg you, sir, give me the key to the arms cabinet. Let me get the guns into the hands of the crew. The key stays in my pocket, Mr. McGinnis. Captain, can't you see? Look at that ship crowding in. The boarding party said, armed to the teeth, grappling irons ready. Cutthroat's thirsting for blood. Break out the Bible, Mr. McGinnis. What? Obey orders, Mr. McGinnis. I said, break out the Bible. May the Lord protect us. Benson, break out the Bible. And now we will continue our Sabbath service with a hymn, the Old Hundred. Praise God from whom Captain, they're right alongside. They're right. According to the ship, we're dead men, all of us. Sing on, Mr. McGinnis. Sing on. You, are you the captain? Sir, what kind of a heathen are you? Heathen. I presume that is so, for no God-fearing man would interrupt divine services on the Sabbath. What do I care about this, sir? It might do you well to care, Mr. Captain Hernandez, for the good of your soul. This is the Lord's day, Captain. One that bodes ill fortune to those who profane it. Oh, well, I did not... Captain, you and your men are welcome to join us in divine service. You will find a hymn book on that bench under. Yeah. A little book, sir, I'm sure you'll reckon. Here, Captain, you may share my hymn book. Now we will start the hymn again. Please. Praise God from whom all blessings flow. You have a good voice, Captain Hernandez. Thank you, Senora. We will take as our text this morning from John, chapter 13, verse 24. A new commandment. I give unto you that ye love one another. Wait a minute, wait a minute, Captain. I forget it was the Sabbath. We don't belong here. We make mistake. We'll leave now. Everybody, back on the Esmeralda. Back aboard. You and your men have been most welcome, Captain Hernandez. I hope we'll meet again. So do I, Captain Sullivan. So do I. But I hope we shall not meet again on the Sabbath. Let go the forward line. Let go the forward line. Let go the off line. On the forward line. Tom, Tom, they're leaving. My heart almost stopped beating when they came aboard. When we get back to Boston Margaret, that'll be a tall tale to tell. Battling a buccaneer with Bible and hymn book. Who'll believe it? Buenos dias, Captain Sullivan. A good sailing. Thank you, sir, and good day to you. Captain Sullivan, sir. What is it, Mr. McGinnis? Can you come forward? Something for you to see, sir. Yes, dear. Now, when you look at this, while we didn't pass the plate or anything, that devil left behind a fair donation. Oh, stop. I have to see my arm. Who is it? We found this behind a coil of rope on deck, one of the parrot prove. Let go of him, Cummings. Why? Why, he's only a boy. A boy, ma'am? He's a full grown parrot. And there's no doubt of that. What's your name, son? Speak up when the captain talks to you. Martin. Martin, is that the whole of it? Sam Martin. Where are you from? New Hampshire, town of Westport. What were you doing with Hernandez? Can I have a drink of water, sir, please? That boy is sick. Sick I am, ma'am. Real dreadful sick. Get that note on the Esmeralda that I had in the overboard, for sure. So when we boarded, I came along. And when they left, I stayed. Come over here. Let me feel your head. I've got the brig already for him. Feel his head, Margaret. Oh, he's burning with fever. I'll throw him in the brig. You'll do nothing like that, Mr. This lad is sick. He needs care. Yes, tell ships cook to brew some tea. And we'll need some polices and quinoa. But ma'am, sick or not, he's a pirate. You heard Mrs. Sullivan McGinnis do as she says. I'll not go running errands for a buccaneer. A buccaneer? I know of no buccaneer aboard this ship. All I see is a New England lad who's dreadful sick. Come, Margaret, we'll take him to our cabin. How do you feel today, son? I'm all right, sir. It's very nice here in your cabin. Why don't you finish this bit of bra? It'll do you good. All right. Here, I'll help you. I'm curious about something, Sam. How did you ever fall in with Hernandez? Well, I was cabin boy on the seago out of Boston. I jumped ship at Le Mans. I met some men at a catena. They said they had a way of making some easy money. I went along with them. I see. Go on, yes. I saw it. I went along with them. You knew there were buccaneers? Yes, sir. And it didn't matter to you? Well, why should it matter? What difference did it make to me? You know why I jumped ship at Le Mans? I'll tell you that. Yeah, go ahead. Because I was Shanghai to board, because I never signed on. I was given a lot to drink by some strangers. That was one night in a tavern on the Boston waterfront. Next thing I knew, I woke up on that dirty folksal with a fosin kicking in my ribs. You don't know what they did to me. How they treated me on that hell ship. There's never a word they said to me. Only a slap across my mouth or a plane pin across my back. How old are you, Sam? 15. Hmm. What brought you to Boston to begin with? Anchoring for the sea. Good. My par was a seafaring man and his par for him. In Westport, there was nothing to do. Nothing where a man could make a dollar. So I came to Boston. Did you have kin folk in Boston? Not a soul, ma'am. For a full week, I wanted round beggin' pennies. Not eatin'. Sleepin' under the wharves. It must have been dreadful for you. What will they do to me, sir? With you? I'm off a pirate ship. Will they hang me when we get to Boston? Your signed on here is my cabin boy. I'll look out after you. It's right decent you and Mrs. Sullivan have been to me. Well, you never mind about that. Now get some sleep. It's what you need to put some strength in your bones. Yes, sir. I'll come on deck with you, Tom. Come along. What will they do to him, Tom? The police, I mean. Why should they do anything? The lad isn't a pirate. Oh, it's a shame. And a sin what evil is bred on the waterfront. Not only in Boston, but I've seen it as bad and worse in every port along the coast. Youngsters come in from the country decent lads asking only for a decent chance, and they're put upon by his corrupt a gang of rascals, mistress, bullies as the devil ever put on earth. Never a chance they have. What can be done for them? I don't know. But looking at that boy, I keep remembering a cry that went up nearly 2,000 years ago. The voice of another who sought shelter and was denied. The foxes have holes. The birds of the air have nests. But the son of man hath nowhere to lay his head. It's wonderful to be back home and port again, isn't it? How does Boston look to you after being away all this time, Sam? Does look wonderful, man. Even through a port hole? Even so. I wish I could get a shore. Oh, not until Captain Sullivan comes back, Sam. You mustn't leave the ship. I won't. But what do you do? I'll do it for sure. Of course I will, Sam. I'll be going ashore this afternoon and I'll see that a message gets to your mother. I'll appreciate that. No end, ma'am. I'll tell her that you will and that you signed on with this for another point. Yes, who is it? Please, open up the air. Please. Just a minute. I do? Don't worry, Sam. Everything will be all right. I'm looking for Sammy Womath. Yes, I am. I'm taking off this land. You can't come aboard my ship and arrest one of my seniors. You know better than that, Captain. You're in port and you're subject to the law. Your mate, Mr. McGinnis, has sworn out a warrant against Sam Markey. What's the charge? Piracy on the high seas. And the right serious charge it is, sir. Carries the death penalty. Well, now, wait a minute. Does that boy look like a pirate? Captain, he could look like an angel and it wouldn't make a sniffle of difference. There's been too much of this thing going on, Captain. It's high time an example was set so eager to ship with the Jolly Roger. Be surprised what good effect one man hanging from a yard arm can have. Gentlemen of the jury, have you reached a verdict? We have. The prisoner will rise and face the jury. Gentlemen, what is your verdict? We find Sam Martin guilty of piracy on the high seas. Light on the cavalcade of America, Douglas Fairbanks is starring as Captain Thomas Sullivan, the shipmaster of Boston. As we continue our Dupont play, Sam Martin is brought before the judge for sentence. The prisoner will approach the bench. The poor boy. It's not over, Margaret. The fight isn't over. Sam Martin, you have been convicted of a most serious crime. Piracy on the high seas. It is in my province to place upon you the verdict of death. However, because a gentleman of Captain Sullivan's high reputation has sought the mercy of this court, it is not in my heart to invoke the supreme penalty. But you have been duly convicted on this crime, and you must be punished. I sentence you to 20 years in confinement. The court is dismissed. I did my very best for the boy. You did as much as any lawyer could. Thanks, Francis. Isn't there any way we can help him, Francis? We'll file an appeal, of course. It can be done. I want it done, Francis. Not only for Sam, but for all young boys like him. Come in. Hello, Margaret, is Tom at home? No, but I expect him soon. I just dropped by to tell him that Sam Martin's appeal is all set for a hearing the 4th of next month. Oh, you'll be glad to know that. Well, now please sit down. I've just made some tea. I was sitting here reading the paper. Frankly, Margaret, I'm worried about you and Tom. Why? You and Tom have been trekking from one port to another, spending every cent you own on some quixotic idea of saving young souls. Francis, neither Tom nor I consider that labor quixotic. We think it's the most rewarding task in the world. Well, that's Tom now. Well, Francis. How are you, Tom? Margaret, you look so tired, dear. Sit down and have some tea. Thank you. I'm dead on my feet. Sit down to the waterfront? Yes. All day. From before dawn. Francis, it would make your heart sick to see what I've seen. So many young lads, fine boys at heart, thrown suddenly into an environment that would corrupt a saint. What's there to do about it? What do you do? Well, what can I do? When I find a few together, I talk to them, I try to show them the Lord's way, but I'm like a workman without tools. That's precisely your trouble, Tom. My trouble? Yes. You're all hard and no plan. What do you mean? I mean a practical idea. You can wear yourself away down at the docks and you'll not improve the situation one bit. I think what Francis means is that it will take the efforts of many people joined together. Perhaps what's needed is something like the London Association. The what? I was reading about it. Some young man in London started it. Wait, I'll read it to you. It's right here. Shall I? Yes, go ahead. In London today, there is a society known as the Young Men's Christian Association. It was founded in 1844 by a young drapery clerk named George Williams. Mr. Williams, the leader of 12 devout young men, established the society as the central point where young men newly arrived from the towns and cities of England might find a congenial, friendly, and morally acceptable place in which to assemble and even to reside. Their membership is now upwards of 200. Margaret, that's exactly what we ought to do. A Boston Young Men's Christian Association to house all those who seek shelter with rooms for Bible classes and classrooms to learn trades and rooms for recreation. Francis, you've wonderful connections with all the most important men of Boston. I want you to help me. It'll take money, Tom, a great deal of money. What can I do? Well, you get those men together for a meeting and put this project before them. Oh, you must do it, Francis. You've got to do it. Oh, wait, Tom. I'll get them together somehow, some way, but the job of convincing them is yours. You'll have to put it across. Me? Oh, I... I can't talk to these people. Why not? I've no training in public speech. How ridiculous. You preach your fair sermon. The men on the docks to accrue but for an audience such as this, I couldn't... Tom, you're going to have to. If I get these people together, you'll have to sell them on the idea yourself. First of all, gentlemen, let me thank you for coming to this meeting on this very stormy evening. The purpose of our get- The room is almost full, Tom. Everyone that Francis promised to have seems to be in line. I'll never be able to do it, Margaret. I'm petrified at just the thought of getting up before all those people. Look over there, Senator Charles Sumner, beat your wife. Oh, they'll laugh me down. No, they won't, Tom. They'll listen. They'll want to listen. Come, he's begging for you now. And now, gentlemen, I'm happy to present to you the man whose courage and energy has produced the inspiration for this meeting, Captain Thomas V. Sullivan. Gentlemen, I want to tell you about a situation that exists right at your own front doorstep and what we hope to do about it. While I was at sea, I happened to find on a pirate ship a young man called Sam Martin. The Boston Young Men's Christian Association will be a society, a group which will meet a young stranger as he enters our city, a boy like Sam Martin. We will find a place, or that is, we will have a place, a quiet home, a place where they can go to that has a fine, decent Christian influence. They, the young boys that is, when they... I'm sorry. I'm very sorry. I can't speak. I feel ill. Margaret. Margaret. Tom. Take me home. Truly, I'm sick. Failed. What a fool I was for ever attempting it, Margaret. The young man I should have realized. No, Tom, no. They know how deeply concerned you are about all this. These people of Boston have the heart and the will to understand. Well, Tom, it isn't failure. I don't want to see anyone, Margaret. All right, dear. Evening, ma'am. Sam Martin. I'd like to see the Captain, ma'am, if I could. Oh, Tom. Tom, it's Sam. Well, lad. Well, I've come to say thanks. But how I... I don't understand. It's not hard to understand, Tom. Judge Benson was at the meeting. When he heard you. When he saw how deeply you were affected by the nature of the appeal you had to make. Well, that was enough for the judge. He's paroled, Sam, to your care. I hope I won't cause you any trouble, sir. Trouble, Sam? Oh, no. You've convinced all those people, Tom. They pledged twice what they might be expected to. You've got what you need to start the Young Men's Christian Association in Boston. Oh, it's wonderful, Tom. It's a prayer, Anne said. No doubt of that. We'll give Young Men what they need to face the world. Guidance and opportunity. And a home away from home. And so it was that 100 years ago this week, Captain Thomas Sullivan established the first YMCA in the United States. And it was his good friend and attorney, Francis O. Watts, who was elected first president. Today, there are more than 1,700 YMCA's in towns and cities all over this country. And there are millions of boys and young men of every race and creed who belong to this brotherhood. Fulfilling a new commandment. Love ye one another. And thanks to the Cavalcade players for tonight's story, a new commandment. Tonight's DuPont Cavalcade, a new commandment, was written by Irv Tunick. Music was composed by Arden Cornwell, conducted by Donald Voorhees. The program was directed by John Zollard. Douglas Fairbanks is now being seen in the motion picture Mr. Drake's Duck. Mrs. Sy Harris speaking. The DuPont Cavalcade of America comes to you from the Belaskel Theater in New York and is sponsored by the DuPont Company of Bloomington, Delaware. Makers of better things for better living. Through chemistry. Next, Hollywood Theater stars John Lund on NBC.