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 Rains.
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, save possibly Lincoln, was more hated in his time nor more violently
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 cannon smoke?
A truer 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, I'm sorry, sir.
I'm afraid I fell asleep.
How old are you, Alexander?
I'll be twenty, sir, in January.
Nineteen.
If I had been more careless, I'd take care that order gazettes were charged with the
cruelty of 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.
But 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.
Let's see here.
Letter to Mount Vernon.
Oh, yes, here it is.
The negros called doll at Ferry Farm must be taught to knit and made to do a sufficient
day's work of it.
And lame Peter, if nobody else will, must teach her.
Little Frank, I expect you will lay up a more plentiful store to the black common walnut.
You will be particularly attentive to my field hands and their sickness.
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 draft horse or ox instead of comforting them and nursing them when they
lie on a sick bed.
Your obedient servant.
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 chairs.
I have one more brief note to dispatch before I can dismiss my temporary aid.
Yes, sir.
Thank you.
Now, Captain Hamilton.
Yes, sir.
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.
Your obedient servants, etc., etc.
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.
General, I've been sent to you to offer you the continued favor and good wishes of the
Congress and to ascertain your views as to the state of the army.
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.
General, 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 were to call our situation to the attention of the New Jersey Committee of Safety and
to demand more men.
Yes, sir.
We received no reinforcements in New Jersey.
None.
Well, the committee had fled, sir, from Burlington to Pottstown to Haddonfield, anywhere to escape.
The conduct of the Jerseys has been infamous.
Infamous.
But, General, we were 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.
Gentlemen, 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, the very...
The end?
Perhaps.
Yes.
I think the game is pretty well up.
But if Philadelphia falls, Baltimore cannot be defended.
What are we to do?
What?
Why, 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, surely you do not propose to leave the Congress without armed protection?
A few days ago, sir, I received three 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 of 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 our 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 just cut his treatment.
I've never before experienced-
You must remember, sir, he carries a tremendous burden.
But he intends to retreat without firing a shot.
It's as plain as the nose on your face he's 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 discourteous.
Did you notice all the time we were talking he was scribbling all little bits of paper?
Why 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.
This is no time for niceties.
Very well.
Here it is.
What did he write?
Very three words.
Here, see for yourself.
Three words.
Where's my spectacles?
Yes, here they are.
Why the man's mad.
The man's start craving mad.
Yes, indeed.
Or else you are quite mistaken in his metal, 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 in view of our plans to place my mind in two quarters at once.
You're going to do it, sir?
The plan will be followed.
Somehow, yes.
Somehow.
It's a question of supply.
We can wrap ourselves and Pennsylvania's cast off rags.
But we have no flour to make bread.
These precious millers around 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.
Philadelphia?
It must be from Robert Morris.
He's about the only one of them who dared stay behind.
Let me see the message.
Here you are, sir.
Thank you.
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.
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 to meet Morris men.
Get the news to Mifflin and tell him to scour every grist mill for 20 miles around.
Yes, sir.
By heaven, we'll feed these scarecrow of ours.
Very good, sir.
And to Hamilton.
Yes, sir.
Tell my staff to meet me here at six.
Send messengers to Cadwallader and Ewing, Down River.
I'll be off with you.
And 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, Jacobin, 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.
Oh, my God.
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 at 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.
Well, officers, can we let our commander take upon himself alone such a burden?
I for one shall choose to follow him here as in the field.
I pledge my last shilling in his cause, in our cause.
Shall we not all of us do the same?
Yes, you can count on me.
Me too.
I'll take my last shilling.
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 crown.
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 dramatically 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 Cabalcade of America, starring Claude Rains, sponsored by the DuPont
Company of Wilmington, Delaware.
Stalkers of better things for better living through chemistry.
And on Cabalcade of America, Claude Rains is starring as General Washington.
Sunset on Christmas night, 1776, on the south bank of the Delaware.
The boats are manned by General Glover's fishermen from Marblehead in Massachusetts.
Henry Knox, the fat jovial artilleryman, is in charge of the movement from beach to boat.
Well, Harry, how goes it?
Well, fair enough, sir, in spite of this confounder floating ice, sir.
Hans men 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 and mauled those dandruff of great guns from Tycon 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.
Lines clear.
Dump the tackle.
Cut the ropes, man.
Cut them.
Cut them.
Well, that was the last of the cannon, sir.
Almost lost her.
You were not a soldier before the war, Harry.
No, no, sir, no, sir, I wasn't.
I owned a book shop in Boston.
Nice quiet work, sir.
Warm, too.
How did you learn to move heavy metal about?
Oh, that was easy.
I read some of my own books.
I had plenty of time, too.
Nobody buys books nowadays, sir.
Here, wait a moment.
Who's that coming?
Probably young Hamilton, coming back from Bristol.
He was a seasoned starter to cross.
Fine boy, Colonel.
I'm thinking of stealing him away from you permanently.
General, sir, messages from Cadwallader 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.
They've given up, sir.
Just too much ice.
Too much ice?
Ten thousand.
Too much ice?
Well, the ice hasn't stopped, Harry Knox, 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 Cadwallader, 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 eighteen guns are in the boats.
We've about five hundred foot soldiers left back in the roads on this side.
Well, 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.
Ah, the Third Virginia Regiment, sir.
Captain William Washington and Lieutenant James Monroe.
Neighbors are mine.
Poor devils, they're 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.
New private soldiers will freeze to death on that white Christmas march.
General Sullivan's division takes the shore 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 past dawn.
As Washington Green and their staff officers come within sight of Trenton's spires.
Halt!
Halt!
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 the shore road.
Well, it's as Honeymoon predicted, 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 we keep in Sullivan?
Listen, sir.
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 firing now.
Listen, sir.
Thank God.
Oh, thank God.
It's Sullivan's artillery.
Gun in hand?
Yes, sir.
You will advance with Scott and Lawson through the fields to the left.
You are to take possession of the Princeton Road.
And hold it, sir.
Don't let them 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.
Forward!
Forward!
Forward!
Forward!
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.
Hours before, the American cause had seemed lost even to its leaders.
Now the news of Washington's victory rang around 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 Raines and the Cavalcade players for tonight's story.
Three Words.
Tonight's DuPont Cavalcade, Three Words, was written by George H. Faulkner.
Original music was composed by Arden Cornwell, conducted by Donald Borey.
The program was directed by John Zoller.
In tonight's cast, you heard Claude Raines starring as General Washington, Bill Lipton
was Hamilton, Richard Purdy was the visitor, Court Benson was General Green, Jack Hartley
was Knox, and Kermit Murdoch was Reed.
Your narrator, Cy Harris.
The DuPont Cavalcade of America comes to you from the Velasco Theater in New York and is
sponsored by the DuPont Company of Wilmich & Delaware, makers of better things for better
living through chemistry.