The cavalcade of America.
America. America means skyscrapers and hayloft, the crack of a pioneer splintlock and the sound of the riveters machine, the outline of a church steeple against the midnight sky.
America is your story. America is you and everyone you know.
Tonight's play is called Reveille and stars the Dean of the American Theater, Walter Hamdon as George Washington.
Our story begins far from the shore.
The time is September in the year 1777 and the place, the European home of Dr. Benjamin Franklin near Paris.
A fateful conversation between Dr. Franklin and a mysterious friend draws to a close.
They're talking in French of course, but perhaps we may translate.
Time, sir, is of the essence. Arrangements have been made for you to sail from Marseille. On Saturday you will board the French frigate L'Euror of 24 guns.
L'Euror? The happy one? A fortunate name, Dr. Franklin.
Yes, and a good omen, I hope. By the way, you are aware that the aid being given to the American colonies by the French court in this matter is highly secret, entirely secret.
Of course, Dr. Franklin. I do not talk. Since 14 I'm a soldier.
The frigate will be disguised as a merchantman under the name Le Flamant.
You will take ship as one Mr. Frank, bearing dispatches for the governor of Martinique.
But you will debark at Portsmouth in New Hampshire with the help of God.
Well, Doc, what do you have had for us?
Huck, no. Is there ever anything new at Valley Port? You were going to keep your ears open, Sarge. Didn't you hear anything?
Those things I heard. Listening as I was to the big brass gorgots and their grand powwows.
Yes, what did you hear?
One? General Washington has wrote a letter to the gentlemen of Congress that take in their wreaths back in York in front of a fire.
Then he says we must have instant aid or else we must either starve or disband. And the general, God bless him, has heared back.
What did he say?
The gentlemen of the Congress are sending us...
Foot guns? Ammunition?
Oh, no, no, no, lad. They're sending a committee.
A committee to investigate and report back and so on and so on.
Mike Poole, the boy, made a speech.
Lafayette.
The boy himself.
Gentlemen, he says what this army needs is to be an army. Right now, he says, we're not an army at all. We're a mere rabble.
Oh, hold on now, hold on. He was right, complimentary. No ordinary rabble, he says, could have held out like us.
But we need somebody to tell us what to do and how to do it and why to do it.
Did he have any notions about what we're going to eat while we're doing this?
Well, no. No, that point wasn't mentioned. His lordship, the quartermaster general, Mr. Mifflin, he wasn't there.
Ah, he's in York by the fire, chomping on a side of beef.
That doesn't... You know what I'm going to do? I'm going home, where all the pigs have four legs and turn into pork overnight.
I'm both for guard, corporal. Hey, check!
The corporal, close the door.
Then this is Colonel Alexander Hamilton, General Washington's aide on the tour of inspection.
Now, Colonel, this is what's left of my regiment, the 4th New York, as you know.
Yes. What was your strength when we went into winter quarters here, Captain?
Ninety men.
And what is it now?
Now this morning, sir, there were thirty of us left.
What are those men doing in their bunks, Captain, at this hour in the evening?
Well, we're short of clothing, sir. Some of us have no britches, so we have to share a bough. The naked ones lie in the bunks.
I see. Let's have a look at this boy. Well, he speaks pretty soundly.
Lift the blanket, Captain.
Yes, sir.
Oh, yes, it's... Oh, yes, it's Wilson from Newberg.
He was in a bad way this morning. The lungs, you know, and the fross.
He's not asleep, sir. He's dead.
And thus, General Washington, and gentlemen of the staff, I conclude my report of conditions here.
Thank you, Colonel Hamilton.
Gentlemen, you all realize the seriousness of our situation.
We have ten thousand, heaven knows how many more, how many less, some ten thousand troops left.
They're sick we can count easily, gentlemen, more than a fifth of our body.
The point I wish to make, General Conway, is that we have to win a war with those troops.
Yet in the European sense, they don't constitute an army at all.
Spare, lack of discipline, desertion, disorganization. These are the roots of our difficulties.
And I suggest, sir, that the root of our difficulty lies in the senseless, stupid, and utterly destructive attitude of the Congress.
Good heaven, sir, even if we win, are we to be ruled by a coterie of timid, greedy, dolt, tenaces?
If we win, and we shall win, we'll be ruled by the representatives of the people.
That's what we're fighting for.
We can hardly expect the people's representatives to be inspired judges, saints, or philosophers.
Surely this is no time or place for political theorizing. Ours is a practical problem.
It has been stated most clearly by Latayette.
Thank you, sir. I had feared being so young to raise my voice. All voices are need now.
My dear young friend, the problem you pose to us is not a new one in our eyes.
It has long been my hope that we might find someone, someone who could bring together our divergent ideas of discipline into one body of military law.
And we propose to the Congress that an Inspector General be appointed.
Congress again? Talk, talk, talk. How long must this go on?
Possibly, until you will earn patience, Hamilton, and common charity.
Yes, sir, General.
It seems we are so clearly getting nowhere. Whatever, sir, may I suggest we adjourn?
I for one have needed sleep. General Wilkinson here, he is asleep.
It would be a shame to wake him.
Well, I too am weary of debate. Gentlemen, we stand adjourned.
Oh, sleep well, General Conway.
What a waste of time, Wilkinson, these eternal councils.
And how characteristic of our so democratic commander.
Our commander at the moment, Conway.
For the moment, yes.
Here's my humble abode, Wilkinson, come in with me.
Yes, sir, I have something to show you.
What a heavenly aroma.
What is it?
Guinea hen, well roasted, fine.
And a quart of renege grape to wash it down.
And brandy to come.
Nice, my friend.
But here at Valley Ford, how do you manage?
Ah, I have friends in the Congress at York, General Wilkinson.
Good friends well placed.
Two of them on the board of war.
Help yourself as a fool, General.
Yes, thank you.
As they decant to General Gates, you must know how these things are done, eh?
Oh, well.
Come, come, Wilkinson, we can understand each other.
General Gates, your superior, wishes to supplant General Washington as commander in chief.
He has an important body of support in Congress.
Your friends at York are my friends.
We can do business, Wilkinson.
Oh, how?
In this manner.
Washington has placed himself in an utterly untenable position.
Someone is needed to create an army out of his disorganized mob at Valley Ford.
So he has recommended to the board of war that an inspector general be appointed.
More guinea hen?
Yes, yes, thank you.
Do you know who that inspector general will be, Wilkinson?
No.
Who?
Me, General.
Me.
It's all arranged.
Time to report directly to the board of war, not to General Washington.
Do you understand?
Could I?
Oh, well, it'll be a little bit more.
Yes.
Now, now, to us, General Wilkinson, to us.
And to our future commander in chief, General Horatio Gates.
Hamilton, I've just received word from Congress that the board of war has at last acted on my recommendation.
They have appointed an inspector general.
They've appointed Conway.
Conway?
That's Charlton.
What are we to do, sir?
There's nothing we can do.
He's not to be under my command.
He'll report so the board instructs me directly to the Congress.
Oh.
Well, I'll see them with the courtesy of you, his new office.
Sir, if only you were to take my advice and march on York and seize power yourself.
I know the men would follow you.
Hamilton, I've forbidden you to mention that vanity again.
Perhaps my career is nearing its close.
Well, it may end in defeat, but never in treason.
But, sir, we cannot go on.
We'll not discuss the matter, Colonel.
I was about to suggest, sir, that our fortunes can descend no lower.
Come in.
Yes?
Colonel Lawrence.
A message, sir, from one of Dr. Franklin's New England agents.
Let me see it launched.
Yes, sir.
Mr. Frank has departed from Boston with messages for the governor of Martinique.
At last!
It's von Stuyben!
Is that good news, sir?
It may be, yes.
The answer to our prayers.
Dr. Franklin has won an illustrious recruit to our cause.
Mr. Frank is the Baron Frederick von Stuyben.
Another foreigner, sir?
No, not just another foreigner, Lawrence.
If Dr. Franklin is right and I've never known him to be wrong,
then Stuyben is a superb drillmaster.
He's the foremost soldier in Europe.
We're now listening to the cavalcade of America starring Walter Hamden as George Washington.
Now we continue our plays starring Walter Hamden as George Washington.
We return to the headquarters of General Washington at Valley Ford,
where a shivering army suffers in the snow.
Diversions mount daily with the continued failure of supply.
And over the commander himself hangs the threat of the infamous Conway Gate cabal.
At last, Washington takes steps against the conspirators.
Colonel Lawrence?
Yes, sir?
Prepare a letter to General Conway.
Listen to this, Hamilton.
Yes, sir.
You ready, Lawrence?
Yes, sir, already.
General Conway, a letter I received last night contained the following paragraph.
So, in a dispatch from General Conway to General Gates, Conway wrote,
"'Cudden has determined to save your country, General Gates,
else a weak commander-in-chief would have ruined it long since.'"
End of quotation.
Sign the letter. I remain your humble servant, George Washington.
That is all, sir?
That's all.
Well, General, how did you learn of Conway's letter to Gates?
Wilkinson, in his cups as usual, babbled it out in the hearing of one of my few friends at Gates' headquarters.
But Conway will tell Gates at once, and Gates will take it.
Yes, if I know Gates, he'll write to me denying he ever received such a letter from Conway.
He'll write to Congress, too, complaining that I libeled Conway.
Such a hubbub will be raised that the whole plot must come into the open at last.
And in the open, they'll appear for what they are, the virtues of our cause.
An arron fool, it's a boof.
I see, sir. The letter is a slow fuse, leading to a barrel of gunpowder at York.
I hope so, I hope so.
Oh, Colonel, I trust arrangements have been made to receive Baron Constoydon?
Yes, sir. He will be met on the York Road by a headquarters company under Captain Walker, and escorted here with every honor.
When he comes, I'll ride out to meet him myself.
General Washington, may I present the Baron Frederick William Constoydon. Welcome, my dear Baron.
General Washington.
We've all looked, all of us looked forward to your arrival.
General, my English is not so good, but I have learned a speech to say to you.
Ah, so I forget. Ah, well, I'm very happy.
Many of our officers are able to converse in French, Baron, and Captain Walker here is accomplished in German as well.
Ah, voodoo me, Walter. Wir haben schon gesprochen. Wir werden uns gut verstehen.
Yes, sir.
Ah, well, you know them all. Captain Walker, in my letter to the Baron, I explained our pitiful condition here.
At your earliest opportunity, you will explain to him those things which cannot be said in letters.
Yes, sir.
Tell him, with many officers skilled in European methods of war, that they can't be spared from the line or from staff duties for the drill ground.
Our enemy has forced us in these campaigns to fight pitched battles on the European order and on a European scale.
And we've lost those battles for lack of unified training, for lack of system, for lack of drill.
To instill system will be the Baron's work.
I think perhaps the Baron understands English better than he speaks it, General Washington.
Ah, bien, ah, General, if you but knew how my heart rejoiced, how happy I am to do again the work of a soldier.
Ah, Baron, you bring us new hope.
I tell you, Mrs. Green, the likes of this man von Stuyben has not been seen before on our side of the ocean.
He's a combination of Don Quixote, Jolly Father Christmas, and Satan himself, all rolled into one with seven big boots.
He's so handsome, too. I do declare on horseback he looks like the very god of war.
The captain, my husband, tells me the men are laughing at your Baron von Stuyben, just as we are now.
And is it not good to hear laughter again at Valley Forge, Mrs. Green?
They began by laughing at him. In a day's time they were laughing with him.
All day he labors at the drill ground, pushing and pounding each squad into shape as if he were a young lieutenant eager for promotion.
And each night he spends writing out a new chapter in his manual of war. And I perforce they have to make a fair copy in English.
Then six men work until dawn making more copies for the brigade commanders. At 3 a.m., 3 a.m., mind you, the Baron is up again.
He smokes a pipe while his valet dresses his hair. He has one cup of coffee, and at sunrise he's drilling his beloved model company again.
One, two, three, cat, pie, dry, cheer, and I perforce them out there with him, translating all three languages at once.
Poor Captain Walker. You must be worn out, quite worn out.
On the contrary, Mrs. Green, I've never felt better in my life. Since your husband succeeded the wretched missaline as quartermaster,
I've acquired a warm coat to my back and reasonable rations to warm my innards. And I have work to do. Good work.
Captain, we simply must meet this paragon of yours.
We shall. When he meets you, Miss Meade, I know what he'll say.
And what will he say, Captain?
I can hear him now.
Wunderscher. Wunderscher. Ach, Clive, je ne comme vous êtes belle.
How you are, erm, épouvantablement ravissant.
And then, Prince says to me, he says, Sergeant Jenkins, you know what is this?
A bayonet, says I. What is for, Sergeant, says he.
A roast pig meat on the end, says I, when we got pig meat, which we ain't. Zumkopf, he says. Edie's horse-sticking lobster backs in the belly.
I tell you. And he grabs my mucket and starts dancing around and stabbing at the air like a great Dutch windmill.
Well, the next time we have a committee from Congress poking around, and I hear tell there's another one on the way,
I'll tell them, gents, I'll say, old Dutch bricks is the best thing that's happened to this army since I stole the britches off a Tory farmer.
One, two, three, four, five, five, here, one, two, three four, five, six, seven.
One, two, three four, one, two, three four, five, five, five here.
There, gentlemen of the Congress, there you will hold an army.
When you were last with us, you saw a pitiful rabble.
I arranged this review in your honor, gentlemen, so that you might see with your own eyes what has happened.
That is miraculous, General Washington, simply miraculous.
No, no, sir. It's the result of the genius and hard work of Baron von Stuyben, who came to us as a volunteer without pay.
You know, of course, that Inspector General Conway has tended us his resignation.
I do. And if I may, I'd like to nominate as his successor, Frederick William von Stuyben.
Achtung! Halt! Halt!
Gentlemen of the staff, little did I think I'd live to see the day when it would be possible to serve a banquet at Valley Falls.
But General Green has outdone himself with the farmers in the hinterland, and, gentlemen, the occasion is worthy of his effort.
I have news for you, splendid news. Louis XVI, King of France, has declared a state of war between his country and Britain.
General, friends, this, this you must know, is the happiest moment of my life.
May I propose a toast to the people of my country, to France, to France, to France. And I have further news, hardly less important and hardly less gratifying to me.
Baron von Stuyben. Yes, sir.
Baron, from the bottom of my heart, I thank you for the work you have accomplished here.
In a few short weeks, you've performed a feat, sir, without parallel in the history of arms. You've surmounted obstacles beyond numbers.
You've turned a sick, despondent mob into a spirited army of disciplined soldiers. And you taught us how to laugh again.
Now my news is this. The Continental Congress has confirmed your appointment, Baron, as Inspector General in the Army of the United States.
Gentlemen, another toast to General von Stuyben, the architect of our future victory.
Gentlemen, gentlemen, my English is not so good, but it is better, no? Yes, yes, I have teached, I have learned.
I have learned much more than what I teach. From these men, these sans-culottes, these ones without British, I have learned what it means, this word, freedom.
I have seen and I know no European soldiers could do what they have done. In Europe, it's slaves. Here, it's free men.
And so, another toast. I give you the American private soldier, the best fighting man in the whole world, to his victory, to our victory.
Thank you.