 The Cavalcade of America, presented by Dupont. This evening the Dupont Cavalcade brings the story of Francis Scott Key and how he composed the Star Spangled Banner, our national anthem, a tune that has inspired during the early days of our country and will always remain in the hearts of generations of Americans. Dupont, a company identified with the earliest days of our nation, presents the Cavalcade of America in an earnest endeavor to contribute something of permanent value and enjoyment to radio listeners and also as a tribute to the research chemists in Dupont laboratories, whose ideals are so well expressed by the phrase, better things for better living through chemistry. The Dupont Cavalcade moves forward. Francis Scott Key was born on August 1st, 1779. His father was John Ross Key, his mother Ann Dagworthy Charlton. One of his young neighbors was a little girl who, like himself, was to contribute poetic, legendary renown to our country's flag, Barbara Fritchie. As our story opens, Francis is 12 years old. He and Barbara and his sister Ann are on the veranda of the sedate Key Mansion at Terra Rubra, a sunshiny day in July. What are you doing out here? Didn't you, pappy, don't tell you all not to play on this here veranda today? Come on, now you're scared. Oh, listen, Mammy, we're not playing here. Only sitting on the steps, watching the soldiers on the lawn and waiting for General Washington to come out. We'll be as quiet as night. Right, Mammy? We will. And besides, Mammy, father wants us to help with the serviless afternoon. I don't think he'd mind if we sat here very quietly doing General Washington's speech. Now, dear, really, really, Mammy, think so. You and your sister Ann, and you too, Miss Barbara Fritchie, want to be the destiny yet. All right, then, you can stay out here. But remember, no time for words. I've got plenty to do without having you free off my hands. And I better stern myself and do it. In case of a day, things might get done, that's all. Hey, do you know something for now? Well, I was thinking that when General Washington finishes his speech, the three of us are going to go up and present him with something. Yes, but what? Let's pick some of these honeysuckle and they'll know you to grow about the verandah. Yes, we'll do that. You can give them to him, Frankie. Me? Well, not. That's a girl's job. Oh, but you can say something much nicer than we can. Come on, Ann. Just start picking the bouquet. All right. Yes, but why should I have to do all this? Here comes General Washington with your father now. Look, the officers and men have put on their hats with the cockades of the Continental Army. Oh, they love him, don't they? Of course they do. My countrymen, I am delighted to greet you in the midst of this beautiful Maryland countryside. But before I depart, I want to thank you and the people of Frederick County for the devotion and support I have always received from you. And now I must be on my way. So once again, accept my gratitude and farewell. God bless you all. Greetings to General Washington. Okay, Frankie. Come on. Let's go up and give it to General Washington. All right. Give it to me. Now I really want to present it. Remember, we're going to stand beside you, Frankie. Go ahead now. Go ahead. General Washington. General Washington. Yes? We've gathered these flowers for you as a token of Maryland's love for you. And so, so we present them to you. Here. Thank you. A very pretty speech, my lad. And a very pretty bouquet, too. Barbara and I picked the flowers, General Washington. Well, that's mighty nice all around. Are all these children yours, Lieutenant Key? No, not all of them. I'm sorry to say, General Washington. This is Barbara Fritchie. And this is my daughter, Anne. How do you do, General? Well, I'm delighted to meet such lovely girls. And this is my son, General Washington. My son, Francis Scott Key. How do you do, sir? In the shadows of the verdant Maryland hills, beside the flashing crystal of its sparkling brooks, the boy Francis Scott Key grew to manhood. On January 19th, 1802, he married Mary Lloyd and moved to Georgetown, where he entered into a law partnership with his uncle. On one occasion, when they returned to his father's house, the Key served a banquet on the veranda of the mansion for their friends, Dr. Beans and Roger Brooke Tawner. Well, dining on the veranda is unusual, but the occasion warrants it, I think. It was a charming idea, Mrs. Key. I'm sure I speak for all your guests. Well, Dr. Beans indeed speaks for all of us, Mary. The news that Stephen Decatur routed the pirate to Tripoli demands a festive celebration of some sort. Wasn't it wonderful, though, Francis? It must have been wonderful, Mary. When Roger Brooke Tawner agrees to any kind of unusual procedure, it must have been wonderful. There's a faint sentiment of amusement in your tone, Frank, which I find myself wholly unable to support. Spoken like the true lawyer and the great judge, I'm sure you're going to be some day. Some day? I'm not a judge, of course, but I'm trying to be a lawyer now. Did you two ever stop teasing each other? Did you ever see the light of a Dr. Beans? Oh, pay no attention to the Miss Key. Roger Brooke Tawner finds himself on the Supreme Court yet. I'm sure of that, and so is Francis downbeat. Oh, Francis, look, the fieldhands are coming across the lawn. Of course they are, my dear. I've asked them to sing for us. They're singing is famous all over Maryland. I know. I don't want us to sing now, Miss Key. Yes. Now listen, everybody. All the trouble I see. All the body knows the trouble I see. Scribbling on an envelope all during the singing. Oh, Francis. I couldn't help it. I failed at thinking about Stephen Decada's victory, and I made up a little verse about it. Would you like to hear it? Oh, yes, yes. By all means, Mr. Key, let us hear the verse you've written. I wonder, do you all know the old tune to an acreon in heaven? Of course, you remember, Frank. We used to sing in college all the time. To an acreon in heaven, where he sat in the hands of harmony sense of... He was a Greek poet, my darling, and after his death his fellow poet set him up as a kind of demigod. I think Frank is one of the disciples. Well, I've just written a few lines commemorating our victory at Crippleley, which may be sung to that air. Here are the words. You sing it, Rod. Oh, I try. Our fathers who stand on the summit of fame shall exult of their sons the present. It's plent by the light of the star spangled flag. Spangled flag. That's good, Mr. Key. That's a fine description of our national banner. Yes, it has a glitter to it, Francis. Well, thanks. I fancy it myself. Go on, Rod. You finish it. By the light of the star spangled flag of our nation. Now, and don't change the key, Rod. It's a hard tune to sing, even if it is one of my favorites. Now, let me finish it anyway. By the light of the star spangled flag of our nation. In the full tide of song let their fame roll along to the fees flowing board let us gratefully strong. Come on, everybody. Gather around so you can see the words. Now, all together. When makes will be. He wrote the words that were to bring him fame. Francis Scott Key was already composing verses to the tune that was to become our national anthem and using the phrase, star spangled flag. Continuing the practice of law, Key distinguished himself on many occasions before Chief Justice John Marshall and the United States Supreme Court. Then came the night of August 24th, about 1814, one of the darkest hours in American history when the British burned the city of Washington. Key's wife, Mary, and his sister, Anne, now married to Roger B. Tawney, worried at the absence of their husbands, watched with frightened eyes from the windows of the Key home in Georgetown across a bay of the Potomac River. Oh, I'm frightened, Anne. I'm so worried. So am I. Mary, I've tried to assure myself that we'd hear if anything were wrong. Are those hoop-beats or is that not on their dimension? Somebody's riding up the road to the house. I hear two horses. We can't tell who it might be. Dear, take this muscadine. All right. Don't be afraid to use it. You're safe. Of course I'm safe, dear. Oh, now, there, there, you must be crying. Why are so long? Where are the President, Mrs. Madison? The President escaped in the cabinet in flight. And Mrs. Madison barely had time to save a portrait of Washington before Coburn's Marines burned the White House. Everybody's left the city. Well, are we safe here? I hope so. I was never so tired in all my life. Sit down over here. Right by me, dear. There, now. What's that? Well, I'll have a look out the window. I can see a whole crowd of Marvel people coming up the road. The British. No, they've marched with drums and martial music. Well, let's go out on the porch and find out what's up. All right. Be careful. Don't be afraid. It's all people. Only one of you. Say he had some of the British soldiers arrested. They're going to make an example of it. Colonel Skinner, the doctor's an old man. We've got the girls over to the old mansion at Terra Rubra. They'll be safe there. We haven't time to argue, Roger. Please do as I say. Goodbye, Mary. I'll be back as soon as I can. Oh, Francis. Take care, yourself. The city of Washington sped Francis Scott G. Too late, he and Colonel John Skinner reached the home of Dr. Bean, found the place deserted, with mute evidence of the doctor's capture. And so, after conferring with the Secretary of War, James Monroe, the two men embarked on the flag of truce for his majesty's ship, Tonam, flagship of Admiral Coburn's fleet, drawn up to lay siege to Fort McHenry. We find them discussing the matter of Dr. Bean's release with the admiral in his cabin. Gentlemen, I'm of the opinion that instead of permitting Dr. Bean to go, I should have the scongrel hang from the odd arm. You know, we urged the group of his townsmen to throw some of our British soldiers into jail. But don't you realize that those men were behaving in a most outrageous fashion? That their actions were a disgrace to the British uniform? They weren't soldiers that day. They were marauders, Admiral Coburn. The Bean's only took precautionary measures, Admiral. That's absolutely all. And I think, sir, you ought to show some leniency in this matter in view of the doctor's impartial treatment of British wounded, as well as Americans. The man is old, Admiral. And unless outrageously provoked, I would say he's the most peaceful of our citizens. Well, as I see it, we gain little by holding, Dr. Bean. All right, gentlemen, I'll see that he's released. Thank you, Admiral Coburn. Then we'll return to shore at once. As to that, I'm afraid it will be most unwise, Mr. Keegan. We must take all steps to prevent any information about our position here, naturally. We must have observed certain preparations on deck. Yes, we couldn't help noticing a certain activity. Yes, quite so. That's why I'm going to detain you during the bombardment of Fort McHenry. I'll transfer you both and Dr. Bean to my son's ship's surprise with duration detection. You will be put ashore after we capture Baltimore. Capture Baltimore? Aren't you taking a lot for granted, Admiral? Where you're standing, Mr. Keegan, you can easily see out that portal there. Yes? Well, perhaps you can see that flag over the battlements of Fort McHenry. Yes. Looks rather proud flying there in the sunset. Well, Mr. Keegan, proud as it may look to you now, tomorrow morning you won't see that banner over the fort. So take a good, last look at it. In the quietude of sunset, Keegan, Skinner, and Dr. Bean rode through the purpling waters of the harbor to the British ship's surprise. As the sun dipped beneath the horizon, the Americans standing near a gun will begin a lonely vigil to watch their country's flag. The British frigates reeled as front-side after front-side thought to cross the harbor, lighting the night with fire. Then, some time before dawn, on the morning of September 14th, 1814, silence fell over the harbor. Can it be that the fort held out? I don't see how it could. That was a terrific cannonade. I've screened my eyes pretty nearly out of this socket, so I'm not trying to see that flag. I couldn't see it at all. I could see it once in a while through my telescope. If the fort falls, what do you suppose they'll do to us? I'm not thinking what it'll mean to us. I'm wondering what it'll mean to the United States. Washington burned, Baltimore in the hands of the enemy, and don't even suggest it, Skinner. We have to face the facts, man. The bombardment seems to stop. Perhaps they've captured the fort. Perhaps the British have given up. If that flag is still waving, we haven't lost, and I won't lose hope. I wish I had your optimism, Prampton. Seems to be getting lighter. Yes, it's the dawn. Now we're noble. I can see the fort now, I think. Yes, come over to the rails. Look there, Key. How about the flag? Give me your telescope, Skinner. I'll see for myself. Yes, yes, it's there. It's still flying. The fort's held out. The attack on Fort McHenry had failed. Key and his companions went ashore. After they separated, Key went to a hotel, for he perfected certain notes he had taken, fashioning them into the ringing verses of a star-spangled banner. Before the day was out, hand those of the poem circulated throughout Baltimore, and late that night in an old inn near the Holiday Street Theater in Baltimore, everything's gonna be all right now, as long as Baltimore's safe. Yes, I guess we should have a moment of business at McHenry. Hey, any of you boys see one of them handbills about the flag? No, I don't know what it's for. What handbills? Well, where you been all day, stranger? I just got in town this afternoon. I didn't see any handbills about the flag. Well, somebody's written a powerful poem about our flag. Here, I got a copy of it right here in my pocket. Sure, it's to him. All right, let me see it. It's called the defense of Fort McHenry. And here's a four-word printed at the top of the handbill. Listen, will you? Everybody listen, just a minute. The next song was composed under the following circumstances. A gentleman had endeavored under a flag of truce to obtain the release of a friend of his from the British fleet. He was not permitted to return, lest the intended attack on Baltimore should be disclosed. And was compelled to witness the bombardment of Fort McHenry. He watched the flag at the fort through the night with an anxiety that can be better felt than described by the light of the bombshells. And at early dawn his eye was again greeted by the proudly waving flag of his country. I see, and the poem follows, eh? I see it. Oh, say can you see? Yes, it can be sung to the tune of a necrion in heaven. You know that song they've been singing so long around the colony. Sure, everybody knows the tune. I used to hear my father sing it. He used to sing it in England. Yes, the author must have known it. The rhythm of the words fits the tune perfectly. Free and the home of the brave. That's great. What a poem. Who wrote this anyway? Yes, we all noticed that. The author didn't sign his name. Must be a pretty modest fellow. If I'd written anything as fine as that, you can bet your boots I'd sign my name. The soldiers at McHenry told me a fellow named Key wrote the poem. Key? I wonder who he is. I know him? He's a lawyer, great son of Frank Key. He took a case of mine once, but I couldn't get him to let me pay a fee. That's the man, all right. Captain Nicholson over at the fort knows him well, sort of a relative of his. Well, I sure like to shake his hand. Well, you can. He just came in the inn. See him over there talking to Ferdy Durang? Well, I wish we could get him to stop at our table here. The only way to do it is to ask him, uh, Mr. Key. Yes? Oh, hello, Taylor. I do. You all know Ferdy Durang, don't you? Oh, yes. Mr. Key. Yeah? Will you answer a question for us? Well, if it doesn't incriminate you. No, this one won't. Did you write that poem about the flag, the one on all those handbills? If I answer the question, will you all do something for me? Why, yes, we will. All right, then. I did. Well, certainly wonderful, Mr. Key. Now, uh, here's what I want to ask you to do. I've never heard it some. Well, uh, gentlemen. Gentlemen, Mr. Francis Scott Key is with us tonight. We've just found out from him that he wrote the poem about our flag. He watched it during the attack on McHenry. What do you say we all sing it for him? Uh, Ferdy Durang is our best singer, so he'll lead it. We'll all join in the refrain. Joe, you play the fiddle. All right, Ferdy. Get up on that chair and sing us the song of the Star-Spangled Banner. The portion of the people of this country to our flag is no better symbolized than in the fervent stanzas of the Star-Spangled Banner. More than a century has elapsed since it was written, but it has always remained in the hearts of American citizens as the official national anthem, although it wasn't until March 3rd, 1931 that it was so designated by a special act of Congress. Francis Scott Key died January 11, 1843. Fort McHenry became a national shrine, and on the 100th anniversary of the composition of the Star-Spangled Banner, a red, white, and blue boy was anchored in Baltimore Harbor near the spot where the song was written. This evening, Jupain pays tribute to our national flag and to the ever-living memory of the Patriot, who immortalized it in the Star-Spangled Banner, Francis Scott Key, inspiring leader in the cavalcade of America. From the past to the present, we quote from a recent newspaper item. Fort Madison, Iowa. A new manufacturing unit to supply the Midwest area with paint, the enamels, and industrial finishes will soon be put into operation here by the DuPont Company. And here is still another newspaper announcement. San Francisco, California. The Sao San Francisco paint and varnish plant at the DuPont Company, which started operations here two years ago, is being expanded by the erection of additional billing. And so it goes. Another industry moving forward. More jobs being created in plants built to make new and better finishes for America's needs. And behind it all is the work of the research chemist. From fine lacquers for dolls and vanity cases to paints for homes and the rugged Ducco and Dulux finishes required for automobiles, locomotives, and ocean liners, that's the range of finishes now made by DuPont. Twenty years ago, DuPont had only one paint plant. Today, seven DuPont plants in seven cities are making finishes for every purpose. These plants are really local industries, manned by local people and serving territorial needs. That they exist today and employ thousands and are still expanding is due largely to constant chemical improvement. DuPont finishes are tested in laboratories, on outdoor exposure farms, and in actual use under all conditions to ensure their resistance to the severest kind of punishment. And in many cases, increased demand and improved manufacturing methods have enabled DuPont to maintain its policy of passing savings through cost reductions along to the consumer. This means more factories and more employment, which helps everybody in the country. It also means new and improved products at constantly lower prices. This is what the DuPont company means by its pledge, better things for better living through chemistry. The story of Oliver Wendell Holmes, a portrait of an American poet, physician, scientist, and humorist, will be the subject of our broadcast when next week, at the same time, DuPont again presents the Cavalcade of America. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.