 The National Broadcasting Company in conjunction with the Fund for Adult Education presents Democracy in America by Alexis de Tocqueville. Albany, July the 4th, 1831, the reading of the Declaration of Independence in the Methodist Church was really a fine spectacle. There was in the reading of these promises of independence so well kept in this return of an entire people toward the memories of its birth, something deeply felt and truly great. The 4th of July in Albany, 1831, a study in American independence, item three in the series Democracy in America, prepared by the Division of General Education of New York University under the direction of George Probst, American historian, a series designed to bring to life the America of 1831 as recorded by Alexis de Tocqueville, and so to illuminate the image of democracy itself. A study in American independence, the 4th of July in Albany, 1831. What is it? What's the matter? Are they at the barricades? Quiet no more. This is not France. We are in America. It is Independence Day, 1831, and the loyal citizens of Albany seem to be saluting the dawn with a fusillade of artillery. Not a very pleasant awakening for me. The guns made me dream of the reign of terror. The reign of terror was over years before you were born, Beaumont. I know, but my family has told me many stories of the revolution. So has mine. My own father and mother in prison barely escaped the guillotine. My grandfather, my great-grandfather, an uncle and an aunt, all guillotined. And since then we have had Napoleon, the restoration of the Bourbon, the July Revolution last year, Louis-Philippe back again with his damned umbrella. All that in 40 years. When we were living on the estate at Vernet, there was an evening which I shall never forget, though I do not think I was very old. Napoleon still ruled Europe, and Waterloo was still only a village near the outskirts of Brussels. There was a family celebration. I don't know what it was, but I do remember that the chateau was full of people, most of them relatives. It was evening. The servants had been sent out and the whole family had collected around a half. My mother was singing the royalist song from the opera Richard de Dion. It made them think of the misfortunes and the suffering of his Majesty King Louis XVI at his death at the guillotine. As my mother sang, each person in that room was weeping, not over the private misfortunes every single one of them had suffered, not even over the many relatives every single one of them had lost in the civil wars and upon the scaffold. No. They were weeping rather over the fate of this man who had died more than 15 years before. Many of those who were weeping over him had never seen him. But Beaumont, these were the ladies and gentlemen of France, and this man had been the king of France. No wonder the count my father was somewhat taken aback when I proposed a visit to America to study equality. Equality he himself had closely studied already, and it's supposed associations with liberty and fraternity. And yet equality in America led to no reign of terror. Evidently not. It is strange how the very same principle can lead to such widely differing results. Now they're ringing the church bells and it cannot be six o'clock yet. How these Americans are full of zeal. And how fortunate they are to have a fine day in Albany for their celebrations. Oh, come to the window, Tocqueville, and enjoy the morning. Throw away your nightcap as I have done, and throw away your gloomy memories with it. Today we are in America, and in America the only revolution was a glorious one. So glorious, in fact, that it was not even a revolution. It was a war of independence. I stand corrected. Look at all the flags. I wonder if it's going to be hot today. I hear there will be processions today and a band. Let us get dressed quickly and go downstairs. How I long to hear that band. Come along, Tocqueville, a little more brandy. You'll never be able to stand the strain of an American celebration unless you're first 45 with an American breakfast. No, thank you. I'm not hungry. I mean thirsty. Come, come, come, Tocqueville. You must bring your mind back from France. This is July the 4th, not July the 14th. Independence Day, not Bastille Day. We are about to witness the national celebration of a happy democracy. And how much of this happiness and democracy can we teach to France? Now we have a constitutional monarch with an umbrella. Now we have the beginnings of a democracy. Will that make us a happy and contented people, Beaumont? I don't know. What little I've seen of it among the Americans makes me think it certainly suits them. Whether it suits us, well, that is something else again. It depends what we do with it. You may be right. Well, I shall keep an open mind past the cold beef. Morning, gentlemen. Early breakfast, that's the thing. Mr. Flagg. What a pleasant surprise. Nothing like a good breakfast to start a good day. Mr. Tocqueville, Mr. Beaumont, meet the Lieutenant Governor of the State of New York, Edward P. Livingston. Delighted to make the acquaintance of the countryman of Lafayette. Of course. Delighted, sir, to make your acquaintance. You must forgive our early intrusion, but Mr. Flagg felt, and I agree that you must be spoken to at once before you've made other arrangements. Spoken to, sir? Well, we were very anxious that you gentlemen will march with us and with various other dignitaries at the head of the procession. Mr. Flagg felt, and I agree, that it would be most fitting. And a friendship between the nations, a very fine thing. I agree. So we should be most honored, but will not such a thing sadly disturb your table of precedence? Table of precedence? Not here, not over here. Plague takes such a thing, the nearest we get to a table of precedence is that meeting we had last night in your house, Ned. I agree. And you know, we just sat down with half a dozen of the leading citizens and thrashed it all out where the wagons were to go, where the 4th of July already was to march. I hope you're ready for some long speeches. And that just about settled it. Wait a minute. I forgot the militia. You're right. We better get along and see that they're going to turn out on time. Militia, what is that, to maintain order? Maintain order? What for? It's just for show. The militia's the national guard. You're aware the Constitution gives every man the right to bear arms. Citizen army, that's the militia, citizen army. Do you not have an army in France? Oh, indeed, yes. We have an army and an armed police force. Several police forces. But we have no such thing as a citizen army. There have been occasions when the army has ruthlessly suppressed the citizens. Happily in the past. In the past, yes. Come, Bermond, you must excuse us, gentlemen. This Independence Day of yours is awakening in my breast feelings of patriotism and remorse. No doubt I shall feel better when the actual ceremony is begin. Now then, where's the Lieutenant Governor? Here I am. Oh, good for you. Now, we shall be in front, Lieutenant Governor and you gentlemen and I, and the chancellor and the controller and all those people. Then we shall have the fire department. All of them? All nine companies. What if there's a fire? No American house dare burn on the 4th of July. The fire department has a new banner. And a miniature engine, very fine. Then the sons of St Andrews. There they are, over there. What time do you have now? Five and twenty of ten. What time does the procession start? Ten o'clock sharp, Mr. Beaumont, with any luck. And if they can get all the wagons and the floats ready in time. Look, step over this way, gentlemen, and take a look at the printer float. We should be very glad to. Come, Bermond. Now, here, gentlemen, look. Look at all this. How splendid. How superb. But what does it all mean? I mean, well, I know what some of it means, but the master printers can tell you what it all means. Hey, uh, here now. Here's your chance. Distinguished visitors from France come to see America. Tell them what all this means. Well, this, like, is the wagon of the Association of Printers in Albany Typographical Society. At the front end, we got a guilt bust of Benjamin Franklin. I guess you should know him all right. He spent a great deal of time in France. But while recognizing that Franklin was a great man, why do you choose to carry his bust on the printer's wagon? Because he was a printer himself. That's why. In this country, men can rise to greatness and still be proud of their old trades. Now, in the center of the wagon, you'll observe we have a flagstaff set up and the flags of various nations. The U.S. colors, of course. And those are France. And Belgium. And what is that other one? Well, that will be the flag of Poland, sir. Gallant country. Very brave. Keen interest here in Polish independence. That's the truth. There's a keen interest here in countries that are like, well, fond of liberty themselves. Or fighting for liberty. Or anything of that kind. No call for you to fret, gentlemen. Your flag's there. France has overthrown her tyrants. Has she? I do not think that the American Revolution and the French Revolution are truly comparable. Now, I, uh, I want you to come with me this way. See, this way. Oh, but I want to make some notes. Oh, this'll give you something worth noting, Mr. Tocqueville. Now, look near the, uh, the head of the procession. We have a carriage with the veterans of the War of Independence. There are very few left now. After all, it's 55 years ago. But there's one old fellow that's very spry. Very spry, considering he's very well preserved. He's the man you should see before the procession starts. He'll be too tired when it ends and may have drunk a great many toasts into the bargain if you take my meaning. Oh, soldiers, you know, military reunions. Let's catch him now. Mr. Flag harried us past the other groups that were forming for the parade. The Mechanics Benefit Society, the Painters Association, the Apprentices Society. And I could not help reflecting, as we walked along, how unlike France this country has become. The American Revolution produced a Washington, not a Napoleon. It had no reign of terror, and General Washington was followed not by counter revolutions and plots within plots, but by an orderly succession of constitutional presidents. Then we reached the place where an old gentleman was sending himself beside his carriage, waiting for the procession to start. And these gentlemen are from France to study whatever we have to offer. It is an honor, sir, to meet a survivor of the armies of the American Revolution. No such thing. I beg your pardon. No such thing. It wasn't a revolution. That's what the British called it. We called it by its right name, the War of Independence. I stand corrected. And only this morning I corrected my friend, Mr. Beaumont, for the same error. Did you see General Washington? I surely did. I was a drummer boy in the retreat to cross New Jersey. That was a cold campaign. That was December. We all thought the game was about up then. Later on we heard the general about Thought So Too. I was writing dismal letters to his friend about it. You heard of Tom Payne? Tom Payne? The infidel? I don't know whether he was an infidel. I never got to ask him. I know he was all for an independent America. And I know General Washington thought a lot of them. Of course, he was a friend of his. Right in the middle of that New Jersey campaign when it was all cold and thick and miserable, the general paraded us by regiments. Well, we hoped we were going to get an issue of brandy or rations or powder or something we could have used. But what we got was something written by this Tom Payne right out to us. A very famous passage. These are the times that trimen souls. We knew that without some scribbler telling us so. No doubt he was trying to put heart into you. You have heard of our great general, Napoleon. He was always addressing his troops to put heart into them. And he got beaten the end, though, didn't he? He did. But he knew that the armies did not run on speeches. An army, he once said, marches on its tumourk. Well, the general knew that, too. He was the greatest man the world has ever produced. And he served only two terms as president. Then he went home to Mount Vernon and lived as a private gentleman. There they go with some more of those hundred firecrackers. I hate the things. I'd rather be back in a retreat across New Jersey than listen to those infernal contraptions. Every fourth of July, this place is like a town under siege. One damn fool after another, firing off muskets from the front door and pistols from the window. Rockets come whizzing into your bedroom and blazing grasshoppers jump at you on the sidewalk. I'm scared to death. The horses are going to bolt and all us veterans will be killed at one go. When we fit the war, we never reckoned that for the rest of our lives, every living soul from the senator to the chimney sweeper to let off his patriotism in gunpowder. Yes, well, it's five minutes of ten. Time to be moving along, gentlemen. You'll be walking near the head of the procession with the lieutenant governor and myself. No, just one thing before we go. Look at that. An old flag torn and scarred. Those holes were made by bullets. Well, some of them certainly were. That's a flag that's come down from the war of independence. You have no idea, gentlemen, what it's like to overthrow a tyranny. I could have told him that in France we had had too much experience of overthrowing tyrannies. But why should I worry him with the dark thoughts that preyed upon my mind? In America, these old soldiers who fought with Washington are themselves looked on as precious relics and whom all the citizens delight to honor. And at 10 o'clock sharp, a band struck up and the procession moved away with Beaumont and myself marching proudly near the head. Here we are, Tocqueville, marching in the 4th of July parade in Albany. We swing around here under North Pearl Street. Now, look behind you in a moment, gentlemen, marching behind. Oh, yes. The preoccupied-looking gentleman. That's the one, Mr. John B. Vanshake, leading lawyer in town. He's the Independence Day orator. I believe he has some telling remarks prepared on the independence of the Poles and also on this little revolution of yours last July. Last July? Oh, yes. The July Revolution. The July Revolution. Do you remember Beaumont, our talk after last July? We are resolved, then, Beaumont. Absolutely resolved. I've already explained to my father that my position as a magistrate of France has been rendered intolerable by the July Revolution. To say nothing of their testing or loyalty by making us take the oath of allegiance twice. That was nothing but a deliberate insult. It certainly didn't make us any more loyal. My friends are sufficiently outraged by having taken the oath once. Brother's hand is set against brother. Our position in France has become intolerable. This trip to America will form a sort of voluntary exile. To study the American prisons. Well, that is a legitimate occupation for a pair of young magistrates. I think we have more to learn from America than information about prisons. What? The principle of equality. It may be that in America we can get a glimpse of the destiny of France. The exercises will begin with a prayer from one of the policy ministers. I notice that they begin everything with a prayer. Probably things don't go any the worse for it. Let us pray. Almighty God, the fountain head and origin of human liberties here on earth. The foundation and the buttress of all just governments we humbly thank thee for having preserved our nation for yet another year. We pray further that the liberties and freedoms so dearly won by our forefathers will be maintained under thy guidance and extended to thy glory not only within our own nation but to the other nations of the earth and especially we pray at this time for the people of Poland. In the name of Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. Amen. Judge Waterton will commence the exercises by reading the Declaration of Independence. In the course of human events it becomes necessary for one people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with another and to assume among the powers of the earth the separate and equal station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them. A decent respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel them to the separation. We hold these truths to be self-evident that all men are created equal that they are endowed by their creator with certain unalienable rights and all these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness. Of all the events which occurred I was most impressed first with the honour and respect according to the veterans of the war and secondly with the reading of the Declaration of Independence itself which was done with warmth and dignity. It was really a fine spectacle a profound silence reign in the meeting when in its eloquent plea Congress reviewed the injustices and the tyranny of England we heard a murmur of indignation and anger circulate about us in the auditorium. When it appealed to the justice of its cause and expressed a generous resolution to succumb or free America it seemed that an electric current made the hearts vibrate. This was not I assure you a theatrical performance there was in the reading of these promises of independence so well kept in this return of an entire people toward the memories of its birth in this union of the present generation to that which is no longer sharing for the moment all its generous passions there was in all that something deeply felt and truly great and a right ought to be free and independent states that they are absolved from all allegiance to the British crowd and that all political connection between them and the state of Great Britain is and ought to be totally dissolved and that as free and independent states they have full power to levy war conclude peace, contract alliances establish commerce and to do all other acts and things which independent states may of right do and for the support of this declaration with a firm reliance on the protection of divine providence we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor fellow citizens of Albany the 4th of July oration will now be delivered by our Silver Tongue 4th of July orator Mr. John B. Vanshake of this city ancient Egypt all it does ancient Egypt spring to the tongues the hearts and the eyes of every one of us here today in this very different way they should have stopped with the reading of that noble declaration but no no sooner was it concluded than a lawyer stepped up to make us a long rhetorical arrang in which he pompously passed the entire universe in review to get to the United States which in all respects he made the center of the world this had all the appearance of a farce though of course we see such things in France at the funerals of our great men I came out cursing the orator whose flow of words and stupid national pride had succeeded in destroying a part of the profound impression that the rest of the spectacle had made on me but before we left the proceedings ended with an ode called the progress of liberty set to the tune of our Marseillais and accompanied by an orchestra which consisted I assure you on my word of honor of nothing whatever but one single flute Mr. Kil, what did you make of our day? for me a day of contrast I saw and heard America but I thought of France it was a strange irony that these two lines of thought should have intersected at last and they followed to American liberty that they sang to the tune of the Marseillais and think of all those toasts the symbolic 13 toasts to Washington, to Lafayette and the 13th, the Fair Six always entitled to our protection so far so good but surely the voluntary toasts were the most peculiar when the most directly opposed political sentiments were solemnly proposed in perfect and rapid succession that was simply because on Independence Day all shades of political opinion were in praising the Union well, there is more brilliance in our ceremonies but in those of the United States there is more truth I am still trying to compose my thoughts after the stimulation I have received from the sacred day of the nation of equality what are we to make of it all? the nations of our time cannot prevent the conditions of men from becoming equal but it depends upon themselves whether the principle of equality is to lead them to servitude or freedom to knowledge or barbarism to prosperity or wretchedness you have just heard the 4th of July in Albany 1831 a study in American independence item three in a series based on Alexis de Tocqueville's Democracy in America this series presented by the national broadcasting company was prepared by the division of general education of New York University under the direction of George Probst American historian produced in the studios of the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation by Andrew Allen scripted by Lister Sinclair music by Lucio Agostini this series, Democracy in America is made possible by a grant from the Fund for Adult Education as part of a general course of study of the nature of American society for information about the use of these de Tocqueville dramatizations for study or discussion and how to secure these new materials about American democracy at a reasonable charge right to the American foundation for continuing education Post Office box 749 Chicago 90, Illinois now this is Ben Grower inviting you to join us next week for Item 4 The Ark of Civilization on Democracy in America