The cavalcade of America.
A resolution unanimously adopted at the recent convention of the National Council of Women
reads as follows, quote, be it resolved that a letter of thanks be sent to DuPont for sponsoring
the excellent educational series called the cavalcade of America, thus providing the whole
family with splendid entertainment.
End of quotation.
DuPont appreciates this compliment from such a distinguished organization, and needless
to say, such a commendation is particularly timely right now during National Education
Week.
It is the purpose of this series to show the forward march of traditional American spirit
in a series of true stories.
And just as the history of the nation shows how American men and women overcame trials
and hardships and so found new horizons, so the history of chemistry shows how the
research chemists have constantly contributed to a fuller, richer, and freer life for everyone.
This is the ideal expressed by DuPont in the phrase, better things for better living through
chemistry.
This evening, we welcome as our guest a distinguished star of the stage, Miss Faye Banger, who will
be heard in each of three episodes dealing with women's emancipation.
Our cavalcade orchestra rings up the curtain with an excerpt from the first movement of
the unfinished symphony of Schubert.
Please join me in welcoming Miss Faye Banger.
When the signers of the Declaration of Independence founded our American Republic with the statement
that all men are created equal, they did not seem to include women.
Women women, especially married women, were in a clash legally with slaves, imbeciles,
and felons.
A scene such as which took place about 30 years before the Civil War can hardly be realized
today.
We are in Judge Daniel Cady's office, which joined his home in Johnstown, New York.
A part of Elizabeth Cady is played by Miss Faye Boehner.
It is the year 1830, a winter evening.
Mrs. Dean has stopped in to see Judge Cady.
Do forgive me for disturbing you, Judge Cady, but I saw light in your office window and
I was so upset.
Don't apologize, Mrs. Dean.
A good lawyer is a public servant, always ready to help his friends.
You and my husband were always such good friends, but I felt I could come to you for advice.
Of course, Mrs. Dean.
Oh, hello, Elizabeth.
Oh, I'm sorry.
I didn't know you were busy.
You know my daughter, I think, Mrs. Dean.
How do you do, Mrs. Dean?
Oh, bless you, my dear.
You're quite a young lady.
Mrs. Dean, do you know that during the last semester at school, Elizabeth won the prize
for being the best Greek scholar in the class?
Why, Elizabeth, it doesn't seem quite, quite relative.
I heard Father wishing I'd been born a boy, and I wanted to show him that I was just as
good as a boy.
She intends to make me pay for that one inadvertent remark.
I will too, Father.
You'll see.
All right, Elizabeth, and I'll run along.
Mrs. Dean wants to talk something over with me.
Oh, let the child stay, Judge.
Perhaps if he is what I have to tell you, he won't wish you were a boy.
I don't think I understand you, Mrs. Dean.
It's my son, Judge, my only son.
Oh, surely you have no cause to complain of your son.
Fine young man, Mrs. Dean, if I'm any judge, and a beautiful son.
Yes, a fine young man.
But there's truth in the old saying, a man is a son till he gets him a wife, but a daughter
is a daughter the whole of her life.
But what has this to do with the...
You know when my father died, all his estate came to me and threw me to my husband.
Of course, Mrs. Dean, that is the law.
A married woman can have no property in her own right.
And then when my husband died, he left the money to our son, and all that money that
was mine now belongs to him.
Quite properly.
And I'm dependent on his generosity.
It's his duty to take care of you and see that you have a proper home.
Yes, but his wife's idea and my idea on what is a proper home are very different.
But she has no legal right to...
No legal right perhaps, but she rules my son's home.
Where I was once a mistress, I'm now a poor relation.
I'm an honest declarator.
My dear lady, surely you realize that nothing can be done about it.
You mean there is no legal step I can take, no way that I can recover part of what was
once mine?
None, Mrs. Dean.
That's the law.
But I'm sure he's a kind, generous son.
He was dead until he married this woman.
I've tried to treat her as a daughter.
I've tried to be tactful and helpful.
But this very morning I heard him telling...
I heard her telling him that if I complained anymore, he hoped that he would send me to
an institution.
An institution, Judge Tate.
Do you understand what that means?
I can't stand it.
My dear lady, I'm deeply sorry for you, but there's absolutely nothing that I can do
about it except speak to your son and ask him to be more generous.
Generous?
With our own money?
Elizabeth, my child, please.
It's an outrage, Father.
It isn't fair.
Why can't a wife own property?
Why must there be such laws in these books?
You must forgive my daughter, Mrs. Dean.
I apologize for her maidenly outburst.
She needs no apology, Judge.
I only wish that I had her youth and spirit.
Perhaps someday there will be some woman who will lead her sisters out of the wilderness
of man-made law.
I won't trouble you any longer.
Goodbye.
Oh, I beg your pardon, sir.
Oh, that's quite all right.
Did I hurt you?
I'm so sorry.
No, no, not at all.
Come in, Henry.
You know my eldest daughter's brother-in-law, Henry Bayard.
Yes.
How do you do, Mr. Bayard?
How do you do, Mrs. Dean?
I'm happy to see you.
Thank you, Seth.
And thank you for listening to me, Judge Fadde.
God bless you, Elizabeth.
Goodbye.
Well, Mrs. Dean seems excited.
Any trouble?
A personal matter.
An argument with a ton.
It's more than a personal matter.
It's more than just an argument.
It's a question between all men and all women.
Is Elizabeth getting herself upset again about the rights of the fair sex?
Why aren't girls as good as boys?
Why can't we own things our fair sex?
I don't know.
I'm not sure.
I don't know.
How can we do that?
Oh, my dear, why can't we own things our fair sex?
Father, do you mean to say that this necklace and these bracelets you gave me for Christmas
aren't really mine?
Well, legally, they...
Legally, my dear, they belong to your father.
And if, well, let's say for the sake of argument, you should later become my wife, those pretty
ornaments would be mine.
You couldn't even wear them without my permission.
I could sell them, give them away.
I could even change them for a body, a body of sand.
My dear, would you be so kind as to say that you are my wife and not my husband?
You could even sell them, give them away.
I could even change them for a body, a body of sand.
I could even sell them, give them away.
You couldn't even wear them without my permission.
I could sell them, give them away.
I could even change them for a box of cigars,
and you could watch them evaporate and smoke.
It isn't fair. It's not fair!
My books! What are you doing?
I'm trying to tear the wretched laws out of your books!
But my child!
No, tearing them out of books will do no good, Elizabeth.
You must take them out of the legal codes.
You must tear them out of the hearts and brains
of the men who wrote them and believe in them.
Man makes the laws, and only man can change them.
And they call this a free country.
Oh, why can't I do something?
Why can't I do something?
On Friday, May 11, 1840, refusing to say the word obey,
Elizabeth Cady was married to Henry B. Stanton,
prominent as an abolitionist.
Her honeymoon was spent in England,
where the bride and bridegroom were delegates
to the World Anti-Flavor Convention.
We find them in Freemasons Hall, London, June 12, 1840,
just as a delegation from the United States
is presenting its credentials.
We will hear from the delegation representing
the United States of America.
Mr. Stanton, I present the credentials for our delegation.
The Honorable William Lloyd Garrison,
the Honorable Henry B. Stanton, Mrs. LaCracia Mott.
Pardon me, sir, but what was that last name?
Mrs. LaCracia Mott, the delegation from the United States of America
is out of order.
We have no authority to permit the seating of women
as delegates to this convention.
Henry, did you hear that?
They're refusing to seat our American women delegates.
Yes, dear, I heard. I'll see what can be done.
Mr. Chairman, Mr. Chairman.
Mr. Chairman.
The Chair recognizes the Reverend C.B. Stanton.
Mr. Chairman, it seems to me preeminently unfitting
that women should be permitted to sit as delegates
to this great convention.
When in his great judgment God created woman
from the rib of man,
he did not intend her as man's equal,
but subject to his will and command.
Mr. Chairman, the Chair recognizes
Mr. George Bradburn of the United States.
If the clerical gentleman who has just spoken
can prove to me that the Bible teaches the entire subject
of one half of the race to the other,
I think that that's...
Order! Order!
Mr. Chairman, in answer to the blasphemy
of the previous speaker,
behind him, as St. Paul says in the 11th chapter
of the 1st Corinthians,
neither was man created for woman,
but for woman for man.
And again in the 6th chapter of Ephesians,
wives, admit yourselves unto your husbands,
for the husband is the head of the wife.
Mr. Chairman, the Chair recognizes
Mr. Henry D. Stanton.
Mr. Chairman, ladies and gentlemen,
in our National Anti-Slavery Society,
women are accustomed to speak and vote
in all its conventions.
Their part in this great struggle
is fully as active as that of the men
in the United States.
Do you let the women vote in your country?
Not yet, but we hope that the time will come.
Order! Order!
Order!
Finally, the English delegates
supported by the English clergy had their way,
and all women were rejected as delegates
to the convention.
Elizabeth found herself seated in the audience
beside another disappointed member
of the American delegation,
Capricia Moss.
Mrs. Stanton, I feel so humiliated
sitting here like this,
for all the world like a naughty child.
I feel more content and disgusted
than chagrinians do not.
What will they say about me?
What will they say in America?
It's Mr. Garrison they're applauding.
I wish he'd been here yesterday.
He'd have been the bigot for this oratory.
Mr. Chairman, the Chair recognizes
the American delegate, Mr. William Lloyd Garrison.
Mr. Garrison is the most elegant speaker
I've ever heard.
Yes, they say everyone is looking forward
to hearing his address.
Now, Mr. Chairman, on arriving here today,
I learned that our women,
the very women who have fought side by side
with us in all this great conflict for freedom,
have been excluded from places on the floor.
Yes, Mr. Garrison, by vote of the delegates.
I came 3,000 miles to speak on the subject
nearest to my heart.
But after battling for so many years
for the liberation of African slaves,
I can take no part in a convention
that strikes down the most sacred right
of all women.
All now! All now!
Mr. Garrison is wrong.
It's no less than tyranny.
We aren't the privileged,
the most ignorant and degraded men.
We haven't used the right to the wages we earn.
We're denied equality and education.
In fact, we are severely dead.
This man has usurped the prerogatives
of Jehovah himself.
When I return home, I intend to devote my life
to the liberation of women,
so that generations to come won't be humiliated
as we've been today.
It means work, I know.
It means that we'll be feared as and insulted.
We ourselves may never see the victory,
but at least we can show the way
to the women of America.
Music
Elizabeth Cady Stanton's words
turned out to be prophetic.
They were the beginning of the reform
which was to be known as women's rights.
In 1848, a small convention was held
in Seneca Falls, New York.
It was ridiculed by the public
and rebuked by the press.
However, it was successful enough
to result in the first national convention
just two years later.
Music
The American cavalcade moved onward,
but it was some time before
women's rights societies made much headway
with the law of the land.
Suffrage became the goal.
Western pioneers saw their women
struggle beside them against the wilderness.
And in 1869, Wyoming Territory
granted the vote to women.
This stirred the soul of Susan B. Anthony,
often called the Napoleon of women's rights.
And in the year 1871, we find Susan,
played by Faye Boehner, entering the headquarters
of the Board of Registry in Rochester, New York
with a group of co-workers.
Well, ladies, what can I do for you?
We're here to register.
We can't vote unless we register, can we?
But ladies, you can't vote at all.
The law says...
We know the law.
The Fourteenth Amendment to the Constitution
of the United States says that all persons
born or naturalized in the United States
are citizens of the United States
and at no state may make a law
which shall abridge their privileges
or deny equal protection of the law.
But, madam, you are a woman.
Since when was a woman not a citizen?
Either you will register, my friend,
or I'll bring suit against you.
Oh, let them register.
We don't have to let them vote.
If we register, we will vote.
Madam, I warn you.
If you vote, you will be arrested.
Susan B. Anthony did register and vote.
She was arrested and fined $100.
She refused to pay the fine,
and President Grant pardoned her.
Susan B. Anthony kept working to keep
the suffrage question before Congress
until her brave spirit passed on in 1906.
The American cavalcade moved onward to the year 1913.
That was the year when the whole country
was humming the beautiful waltzes
of purity and flavor.
On March 3, 1913, the day before Woodrow Wilson's inauguration, a great parade was held in the
city of Washington.
Many politicians, afraid of women's suffrage, tried to belittle the ever-growing storm.
Two of them look out of the window on Pennsylvania Avenue as the parade passes.
They certainly can march.
I'm surprised at so many good-looking young girls.
They just want to show off.
Say, that crowd's getting nasty.
Look at that.
The men in the crowd threw a cigar butt in that woman's face.
After all, they are women.
They want to vote like men.
They must expect to be treated like men.
Those fellows on the curb are men.
And rowdies in hoodlums.
The women are asking for it.
Look at them.
Thousands of them.
Marching by.
All looking ahead.
Not even hearing the tears of the crowd.
I've got to admit, I admire them.
But the fact is that they really mean it this time.
All through the day they marched and into the night, dressed in white, women of all
descriptions, bravely bore their banners before a partisan crowd.
Five years later, on December 2, 1918, President Wilson, in addressing Congress, said, the
least tribute we can pay women is to make them the equals of men in political rights
as they have proved themselves their equals in every field of practical work they have
entered, whether for themselves or their country.
In May 1918, the 19th Amendment was passed by the House and in June by the Senate.
But passage was one thing.
Ratification by 36 states was another.
The legislatures of 35 states finally ratified.
All eyes are turned towards Tennessee, the state that the suffragists hoped will be the
one to give them their long delayed victory.
The Tennessee Senate passes the bill 25 to 4.
Then it comes to the House.
The galleries are filled.
In the front row sit two anti, a husband and his wife.
And beside them, a young woman, played by Slay Bainter, who is evidently a supporter
of the suffrage cause.
You see, Bessie, it won't pass.
Our state wants to take our women.
We don't want them in politics.
We don't want to drag them through the mire.
You're right here, absolutely right.
Perhaps when women get into politics, they'll be able to get into politics.
But we don't want them in politics.
We don't want them in politics.
If we don't get into politics, they'll help drag it out of the mire.
I beg your pardon, ma'am.
I'm sorry, but I couldn't resist replying to your remarkable reason for keeping us from
voting.
You really believe what you said?
Surely you trust your wife to vote?
Oh, I don't want to vote.
I agree with my husband that a woman's top of the place is the home.
But just because you don't believe in it, why should other women be deprived of what they
believe?
Quiet, quiet, quiet.
They're announcing the vote.
The vote stands 49 for the amendment and 40 for the vote.
The vote stands 49 for the amendment and 47 against.
49 for the amendment and 47 against.
We won.
One moment, please.
I cannot declare this a passing vote.
There are only 96 members out of 99 persons.
The 49 ayes constitute a majority of those present, but not the majority of the entire
membership of the House.
It's a fake!
It's clever.
Walker's no fool.
There'll be a move to reconsider until he gets full attendance.
Mr. Speaker, Mr. Speaker, the Chair recognizes the member from the Cata.
I voted against the bill, but in order to allow a move to reconsider, I will change
my vote.
I told you, they'll give them time to round up the three absent members, and they're all
against the amendment.
When they vote, it'll stand 50 against to 49 in favor.
Mr. Speaker, the Chair recognizes the member from Crocker County.
Quiet, please, Mr. Speaker.
Do I understand that the member from the Cata changes his vote?
You do.
I will change my vote for purposes of reconsidering the motion until tomorrow.
Now I will entertain a motion to adjourn.
One moment, Mr. Speaker.
Point of order.
I still have the floor.
Since he has reconsidered, that makes the vote stand 50 ayes and 46 noes, a clear majority
of the entire House.
50 out of 99.
What does it mean, dear?
What does it mean, my dear lady, that we've won?
Your Speaker outsmarted himself.
The amendment is ratified.
Next election, women will vote.
Women are citizens of the United States at last.
And so, after years of struggles, women at last were given the vote.
Today, we find women successfully competing with men in every walk of human endeavor.
Women challenges men in courage, skills, talent, and craftsmanship.
Yes, no advantage, except no compromise.
He stands on the heights at last after a long and weary climb, welcomed as an equal, admitted
to her place in the cavalcade of America.
Think what an important part women play in the life of our nation, not only politically,
but economically.
They are the purchasing agents of America's home, and their ideas make business history.
Have you ever heard anyone use the expression, born to the purple?
There's a story in that phrase, born to the purple, a story that has a lot to do with
feminine gowns and frills.
Way back in Roman times, the Phoenicians were renowned for their skill in dyeing the robes
of royalty.
They used a color called Tyrian purple, which was obtained from shelters found in the Tyrian
Sea.
It was so costly that only royalty could afford clothing of this beautiful color, and hence
the expression, born to the purple, denoting high birth.
America got its dyes from foreign sources until the World War created a shortage, and
our nation began to develop its own dye industry.
This development represents one of the great achievements of American chemistry.
Today, America makes enough dyes for practically all its domestic needs, even exporting large
quantities.
And so you see, the story of American dyes also is a story of emancipation.
Our industries are now completely free from dependence on foreign supplies.
Americans can be proud, too, of the high quality of home-produced dyes.
Among the most recent developments is the class known as VAC dyes.
These are the fastest colors known to science, and the women of America know how important
it is to have fabrics that retain their original colors, in spite of repeated washings and
prolonged exposure to sunlight.
DuPont has played an important part in this building of the American dye industry, and
research chemists in DuPont laboratories are still seeking further improvements in dyes,
just as they're working in many other fields of research to provide better things for better
living through chemistry.
On tonight's program, you've heard Faye Bainter, famous stage star in the leading role.
Tune in again next Wednesday, when DuPont again presents the Cavalcade of America.
This is the Columbia Broadcasting Service.