 The DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware, makers of better things for better living through chemistry, presents the Cavalcade of America. Tonight's story, three words. Tonight's star, Claude Reigns. Many tongues and many pens have attempted to describe the character of the great American whose birthday we celebrate this week. In each generation there's a new appraisal, but the burden of the story is always the same. As Thomas Jefferson wrote, His integrity was the most pure, his justice the most inflexible I have ever known. No motives of interest, of friendship or hatred, being able to bias his decision. He was indeed, in every sense of the word, a wise, a good, and a great man. Yet no American, say possibly Lincoln, was more hated in his time, nor more vilely slandered. How do you picture him, this history- shrouded, myth-ridden commander? On a white charger, forever waving aloft a bright sword against the background of banners and canon smoke? A true portrait might show a tired, bone-tired, middle-aged, Virginian gentleman, forever writing or dictating endless letters by candlelight in the heart of a sleeping camp. And in conclusion, my dear General Schuyler, may I suggest that we must make the best of mankind as they are, since we cannot have them as we wish. Do you have that set down, Captain Hamilton? I see Hamilton. Oh, oh, I'm sorry, sir. I'm afraid I fell asleep. Oh, are you, Alexander? I'll be twenty, sir, in January. Nineteen. Unless I take care, the torticazettes were charging with the cruelty of the children. That's one libel they've neglected. I'm very sorry, sir. Shall we continue now? No, go get some sleep. I have only one more letter to my overseer at Mount Vernon. I started it earlier myself. Sir, it's past two o'clock in the morning. You must need rest now. I've needed rest ever since I allowed myself to be persuaded to command this poor army. Chiefly because my orders are so seldom obeyed. I've given you an order, Captain. Go to bed. At once. Yes, sir. Good night, sir. Good night, Captain. Hmm, see the letter to Mount Vernon. Oh, yes, here it is. The negris called dull at Ferry Farm must be taught to knit and made to do a sufficient day's work of it. Allame Peter, if nobody else will, will must teach her. Tell Frank I expect he will lay up a more plentious sword of the Black Common Walnut. He will be particularly attentive to my field hands and their sickness. Uh, yes, yes. Now, let's see. And to order every overseer positively to be so likewise. But I am sorry to observe that the generality of them view these creatures in scarcely any other light. And they do a draught horse or ox instead of comforting them and nursing them when they lie on a sick bed. They're obedient servants. There are 37 published volumes of General Washington's letters, dispatches and orders. Each of them about 500 pages long. But there was once in existence a small square of paper containing just three words in Washington's hand. Words that never found their way into the official volumes. The three words were written a few days before Christmas in the year 1776 at the general's headquarters near Bristol just below the Delaware. Congress fleeing Philadelphia at the threat of General Howe's approaching army has sent an emissary to confer with Washington and Colonel Joseph Reed. Gentlemen, if you would please take chair. Well, sir, I have one more brief note to dispatch before I can dismiss my temporary aid. Yes, sir. Uh, thank you. Now, Captain Hamilton. Yes, sir. Uh, one more letter, please. To the Pennsylvania Council of Safety. Yes, sir. Gentlemen, your collection of old clothes for the use of our army deserves my warmest thanks. They shall be distributed where they are most wanted. Uh, your obedient servant, et cetera, et cetera. And that will be all, Captain. You may return to your battery. Tillman will resume his duties this evening. Very good, sir. Now, gentlemen, Colonel Reed, well, you, sir. Uh, General, I've been sent to you to offer you the continued favor and good wishes of the Congress and to, uh, ascertain your views as to the state of the army. Oh, for this favor, my thanks, as to the state of the army. Well, sir, you heard my letter. The army is in its usual state. It is miserable. But, General. It is desperate. You can nothing be done to stop howl here at the Delaware. The Congress is removed to Baltimore, but even there, we may not be safe. No, you will not be safe in Baltimore, nor anywhere else on the eastern seaboard unless you send me more men. Colonel Reed? Yes, sir. You yourself, sir. You would have called our situation to the attention of the New Jersey Committee of Safety and to demand more men. Yes, sir. We received it. No reinforcements in New Jersey. None. The committee had fled, sir, from Burlington to Potsdam to Haddonfield. Anywhere to escape, the conduct of the jerseys has been infamous. Infamous. But General Weber told that you would shortly be joined by the regiments under General Gates. General Gates has been pleased to report to me in person and to continue on to Baltimore. But he left most of his men up on the Hudson, 100 miles away. The regiment only a few days ago, the Maryland men, two whole brigades to camp for home in a body with the enemy only two hours away and coming on. Their enlistments were up, they said. Here between the British and Philadelphia or Baltimore, I have 3,500 men left. But this is horrible, horrible, why, why, this is the very, the end, perhaps. Yes, I think the game is pretty well up. But if Philadelphia falls, Baltimore cannot be defended. What do we to do? What? Well, I save your necks, as best you can, no doubt, or join the army. But you, sir, what is to become of you? My neck, Colonel Reed, does not feel as though it was made for a halter. General Washington, sir, you do not propose to leave the Congress without armed protection? A few days ago, sir, I received 3 resolutions passed by the Congress before it fled from Philadelphia. The first resolves that officers in the field shall fast and reform their characters. The second resolves that excessive profanity is one of the defects of the Continental Army. And the third resolves that General Washington be now possessed to full power in all the operations of the war. My plans for future operations are now my own plans. Gentlemen, I have much to do, if you'll excuse me. Understand me, if you will. I hold out Congress in the highest esteem. I know its members, most of them, to be both honest and brave. If there have been mistakes and blunders and misunderstanding, they have been the result of inexperience in this difficult way of governing a people at war. The Congress, gentlemen, lies at the very heart of our cause, but the Congress has now given me full powers. I intend to exercise those powers. Thank you. And good day. Well, all the overbearing discartious treatment, I've never before experienced... You must remember, sir, he carries a tremendous burden. But he intends to retreat without firing a shot. His plain as a nose on your face is given up. He means to save the army in his own skin and abandon us all to General Howe and the King's Hangman. I'd not be sure of that, my friend. I served as his adjutant for many months. I've never known him to show fear, fear of anything. But he was positively discartious. Did you notice all the time he was talking, he was scribbling all little bits of paper while the man's distracted with fear? Did you notice? I noticed, yes. Dr. Rush noticed it yesterday. He is distraught, yes. But not, I think, with fear. He seemed to me well eager. But what could he have been writing? Oh, look, one of the squares of paper has fallen to the floor. Do you think we might... No, of course not. Get it, man, get it and read it. There's no time for nice it is. Very well. Here it is. What did he write? Only three words. Here, see for yourself. Three words. Where's my spectacles, sir? Oh, yes, here they are. And... Why, the man's mad. The man's stock-raving mad. Yes, indeed. Or else you are quite mistaken in his metals, sir. What were the three words General Washington had scribbled over and over again as he spoke of the end being near? What was their significance? The next few hours were to supply an answer heard round the world. General Washington, sir. Yes, Captain. Oh, our visitor has departed for Baltimore. In great haste, sir. Good. Hamilton, I fear I seemed overly brusque with our visitor. I find it difficult to review our plans to place my mind in two quarters at once. What? You're going to do it, sir? The plan will be following... Somehow, yes. Somehow. It's a question of supply. We can wrap ourselves in Pennsylvania's cast-off rags. But we have no flour to make bread. These precious millers are round about. They refuse to sell to us for continental currency. Oh, well, we'll manage somehow. You brought a message, Captain? Yes, sir. An express just arrived from Philadelphia. The Delphia must be from Robert Morris. He's about the only one of them who dared stay behind. Let me see the message, please. Here you are, sir. Thank you. Hmm. Oh, good. Yes, this is splendid. But splendid, Captain. You may thank Providence for Robert Morris. He has pledged his fortune all of it to buy us bread. He has raised $50,000 in hard cash. What? It's on its way under an escort of militia. $50,000? Not all at once. But he's got a good part of it on the road right now. Captain, you will order an armed patrol to ride out at once and meet Morris men. Get the news to Mifflin and tell him to scour every Christmas for 20 miles a hour. Yes, sir. And by heaven, we'll feed these scarecrows of ours. Very good, sir. And Hamilton. Yes, sir. Tell my staff to meet me here at six. Send messengers to Cadmolida and Ewing, downriver. We'll be off with you. So, gentlemen, it is at last possible to put into action the plan we had concerted at our last meeting on the 14th. John Honeyman, a most valuable agent, has spent the past two days in the Hessian camp. He reports that they will celebrate Christmas in old country style. That means that every man, Jack-O-Bone, will get himself dead drunk on Christmas Day. On Christmas night, we'll cross Yonder River and before dawn, we'll come upon them as they sleep, I hope. Sir, I... Yes, General Sullivan? What about provisions, sir? Well, thanks to the sacrifice of Robert Morris, I have been able to order and procure three days rations ready-cooked. Thank you. General Washington, sir. General Green? I can answer for my own men, sir. They voted to hang on, come hail or high water. But in most of the other regiments, enlistments are up on January 1st, in just a few days' time, sir. Can we hope to make a campaign now? I have had in mind the thing you fear, Nathaniel. When I received Morris' pledge, I had once arranged a like-action of my own. Gentlemen, I have pledged all my worldly goods, my house and my plantation at Mount Vernon, my personal funds, my western lands to raise cash money to keep this army together. Fellow officers, can we let our commander take upon himself a loan such a burden? I, for one, shall choose to follow him here as in the field. I pledge my last shilling in his cause, shall we not all of us do the same? Yes, you can count on me. Gentlemen, you make me very proud. Well then, you are all familiar with the plan. Good. I have one last order. This gentleman may be our final action together. If we fail now, all fails. And it may be that we shall be dispersed and hunted through the western hills as traitors to the crowd. I have been at some pains to compose a password for the night attack, trying now this wording, now that, on scraps of paper at odd moments. The three words I have chosen may seem overly grammatical to some of you, but I assure you they spell out most closely my own deep and holy resolve. The password for the night of December the 25th, gentlemen, three words. Victory or death. You are listening to the Cavalcade of America starring Claude Reigns, sponsored by the DuPont Company of Wilmington, Delaware. Makers of better things for better living through chemistry. Tonight on Cavalcade of America, Claude Reigns is starring as General Washington, Sunset on Christmas night, 1776, and the South Bank of the Delaware. The boats are manned by General Glover's fisherman from Marblehead in Massachusetts. Henry Knox, the fat jovial artilleryman, is in charge of the movement from beach to boat. Well, howdy. How goes it? Well, fair enough, sir, in spite of this confounder floating high, sir, handsmen are over in Scots and Lawsons. It's the cannon giving us trouble now. You handle the heavy work, well, Colonel. Well, sir, I hauled all those damnable great guns from Ticano, Rogue to Boston, then from Boston to New York, then across all Jersey, and I'm not going to lose them now, sir. Why, Captain? Captain Forrest! Yes, sir? Get those lines clear! Don't attack them! Cut the ropes, man! Cut them! Cut them! Last of the cannon, sir. Almost lost, sir. You were not a soldier before the war, had you? Oh, no, sir, no, sir, I wasn't. I owned a bookshop in Boston. Nice, quiet work, sir, for warm, too. How did you learn to move heavy metal about? Oh, that was easy. I read some of my own books. I have plenty of time, too. Nobody buys books nowadays, sir. Yeah, wait a moment. Who's that coming? Probably young Hamilton, coming back from Bristol. He would see them start at a cross. Oh, fine boy, Colonel. I'm thinking of stealing him away from you permanently. Messages from Cadwalader at Bristol and General Ewing at the Trenton Ferry. Both of them are completely stopped, sir. They can't get over. Too much ice in the river, they say. But they've given up, sir. Just too much ice. Too much ice? Ten thousand. Too much ice? The ice hasn't stopped, had it knocked, here. It's the same ice, three miles downriver. The same ice. They haven't tried. I swear they haven't tried. I was with General Cadwalader, sir. He did his best. The ice piles up below, as General Ewing refused to attempt a crossing at the ferry. Colonel Knox? Yes, sir. How many men have we across the river now? Some two thousand, sir. And my 18 guns are in the boats. We've about 500 foot soldiers left back in the roads on this side. We'll make do with what we have. We cannot turn back now. Very well, sir. And the longboat on the beach there, I'm holding it back for my own use, sir. Would you do me the honor of accompanying me across, sir, when the rest of the infantry are over? It will be a pleasure, Colonel. Ah, thank you, sir. What troops are those? Captain Hamilton coming down the road, John. The third Virginia regiment, sir. Captain William Washington and Lieutenant James Monroe. Neighbors of mine. Poor devils are not used to this weather. Well, I'll have a word with them. Carry on, Colonel Knox. By the book, sir. By the book. The crossing consumed ten icy hours. And now comes a dark and silent nine-mile march in snow and sleet. Two private soldiers will freeze to death on that white Christmas march. General Sullivan's division takes the show road. General Green with Washington at his side takes an inland route. And then they converge on the center of Trenton Town, where the Hessian regiments are sleeping. This was to be a night attack, but it's daylight now, half an hour passed on, as Washington Green and their staff officers come within sight of Trenton Spires. Gentlemen, we must wait here until General Sullivan opens the attack beyond the town. We're late, sir. And so is Sullivan. But apparently no alarm has reached our Hessian friends. Town's quiet. Surely they must have posted pickets on a shore road. Well, it says honeymoon predicted, and they've celebrated over thoroughly. And our march is silent. My congratulations, sir, on the discipline of your men. I'm proud of them, General. My Rhode Islanders, especially. Unless I'm mistaken, you marched in the ranks yourself when the war began. That's right, sir. They don't have me for an officer at first, sir, because I have this crippled leg. They've changed their minds. Many minds have changed in the last year. We'll change a good many more before this day is out. But I detest this waiting. What can be keeping Sullivan? It's a German horn, sir. They've discovered us. I fear so, yes. Look, they're pouring out of the houses. They're running for the square. But surely Sullivan must be in position. Surely he can't have delayed. He should be fighting now. Listen, sir. Thank God. Oh, thank God. It's Sullivan's artillery. Got no hand? Yes, sir. You will advance with Scotland Lawson through the fields to the left. You're to take possession of the Princeton Row. And hold it, sir. Don't let him through. We'll hold it, General. Your guns are in readiness, Captain Forrest. They're ready, sir. You will advance to the town square and sweep the streets on either side with your fire to the Congress of the United States of America. I have the pleasure of congratulating you upon the success of an enterprise which I had formed against the enemy lying at Trenton and which was executed yesterday morning. When they came to the charge, each man seemed to vie with the other in pressing forward. And were I to give preference to any particular call, I should do great injustice to the others. Short hours before, the American cause had seemed lost even to its leaders. Now the news of Washington's victory rang round the world. In the smoke of Stout Harry Knox's guns at Trenton, in the blood of those who died at Princeton a few days later, in the dying breath of General Hugh Mercer, a lost cause, a dead cause came to life again. Of the man whose tremendous will was to save that cause again and again, let it be said once more on the eve of his birthday. He was, indeed, in every sense of the word, a wise, a good, and a great man. Our thanks to Claude Reigns and the Cavalcade players for tonight's story, three words. Tonight's DuPont Cavalcade, three words. It was written by George H. Faulkner. Original music was composed by Arden Cornwell, conducted by Donald Boreys. The program was directed by John Soller. In tonight's cast, you heard Claude Reigns starring as General Washington. Bill Lipton was Hamilton. Richard Purdy was the visitor. Court Benson was General Green. Jack Hartley was Knox. And Kermit Murdock was Reed. Your narrator, Sy Harris. The DuPont Cavalcade of America comes to you from the Velasco Theater in New York and is sponsored by the DuPont Company at Lomag & Delaware. Makers of better things for better living, through chemistry.