[Illustration: LEXINGTON

BIRTHPLACE OF AMERICAN LIBERTY]




  SECOND PRESENTATION
  _of the_
  HISTORICAL PAGEANT DRAMA
  “_Lexington_”
  COMMEMORATING THE 150TH ANNIVERSARY
  _of the_
  BATTLE OF LEXINGTON

  ENACTED EVERY TEN YEARS
  _by the_
  CITIZENS OF LEXINGTON
  MASSACHUSETTS

  _AMPHITHEATRE_
  EVERY EVENING, WEEK OF JUNE 15TH
  1925




  Copyright, 1924
  The Lexington Historical Society
  All rights reserved


  Printed in U. S. A.




  _The production staged
  and under the personal
  direction of_

  SAMUEL J. HUME




_Special Nights_


  JUNE 15--PRESIDENT’S NIGHT
  In Honor of the President of the United States.

  JUNE 16--GOVERNORS’ NIGHT
  In Honor of the Governors of the Thirteen Original States.

  JUNE 17--BUNKER HILL NIGHT
  In Memory of the Patriots who fought at Bunker Hill.

  JUNE 18--COLLEGE NIGHT
  In Honor of the visiting Alumni of the New England Colleges.

  JUNE 19--HISTORICAL NIGHT
  In Honor of the Historical Societies of America.

  JUNE 20--MILITARY NIGHT
  In Memory of the sons of Lexington who have fallen in the
  service of their country.




1775 “_Pageant of Lexington_” 1925 INC.


  EDWARD C. STONE, _President_
  WALDO F. GLIDDEN, _Vice-President_
  EDWARD W. KIMBALL, _Vice-President_
  EDWIN B. WORTHEN, _Treasurer_
  DANIEL B. LEWIS, _Auditor_

  FLETCHER W. TAFT
  _Director of Publicity_

  WILLARD D. BROWN
  _Chairman of Construction_

  SHELDON A. ROBINSON
  _Chairman, Grounds Committee_

  DAVID HENNESSY
  _Superintendent Amphitheatre_




“_Lexington_”

_Citizens’ Committee of One Hundred_

  EDWIN B. WORTHEN, _Chairman_
  HARRY M. ALDRICH
  WILLIAM H. BALLARD
  S. LEWIS BARBOUR
  DR. WILLIAM L. BARNES
  EDWIN A. BAYLEY
  HALLIE C. BLAKE
  ARTHUR L. BLODGETT
  GEORGE E. BRIGGS
  FRED K. BROWN
  LEROY S. BROWN
  WILLARD D. BROWN
  ALBERT H. BURNHAM
  JOHN CALDER
  LYON CARTER
  WILLIAM E. CHAMBERLAIN
  CALVIN W. CHILDS
  EDMUND S. CHILDS
  ROBERT P. CLAPP
  JOSEPH H. CODY
  THEODORE A. CUSTANCE
  FRANCIS S. DANE
  CHARLES B. DAVIS
  FREDERICK L. EMERY
  RICHARD ENGSTROM
  ROBERT J. FAWCETT
  HARRY F. FAY
  ROBERT W. FERNALD
  EDWIN F. FOBES
  FREDERICK R. GALLOUPE
  GEORGE H. GIBSON
  GEORGE L. GILMORE
  WALDO F. GLIDDEN
  C. EDWARD GLYNN
  WM. ROGER GREELEY
  CHARLES ELLIOTT HADLEY
  GEORGE D. HARRINGTON
  ALTON H. HATHAWAY
  J. WILLARD HAYDEN, JR.
  DAVID HENNESSY
  WILLARD C. HILL
  CHARLES E. HOLT
  ROBERT H. HOLT
  RANDALL B. HOUGHTON
  WILLIAM HUNT
  J. CHESTER HUTCHINSON
  EDWARD W. KIMBALL
  HAROLD B. LAMONT
  DANIEL B. LEWIS
  HARRY W. LITCHFIELD
  ARTHUR N. MADDISON
  EDWARD H. MARA
  HUGH D. MCLELLAN
  EDWARD P. MERRIAM
  CHARLES H. MILES
  FRED W. MILLER
  FRED H. MOULTON
  JOHN E. A. MULLIKEN
  HERMANN DUDLEY MURPHY
  GEORGE W. NORTON
  CHARLES P. NUNN
  TIMOTHY H. O’CONNOR
  ALFRED PIERCE
  FRANK D. PIERCE
  DR. FRED S. PIPER
  ELWYN G. PRESTON
  WILLIAM W. REED
  WALTER W. ROWSE
  ROBERT L. RYDER
  EDWARD H. SARGENT
  EDWARD D. SAWYER
  O. GILBERT SEELEY
  JULIUS SELTZER
  CLARENCE SHANNON
  FRANK R. SHEPARD
  WILLIAM H. SHURTLEFF
  FRANKLIN P. SIMONDS
  CLARENCE E. SPRAGUE
  LESTER E. SMITH
  JAMES STUART SMITH
  JAMES W. SMITH
  WILLIAM L. SMITH
  EDWIN C. STEVENS
  EDWARD C. STONE
  ALBERT B. TENNEY
  ROCKWELL C. TENNEY
  DR. J. ODIN TILTON
  JOHN F. TURNER
  DR. WINSOR M. TYLER
  DR. HENRY C. VALENTINE
  HENRY L. WADSWORTH
  JAMES J. WALSH
  HOLLIS WEBSTER
  HERBERT L. WELLINGTON
  HARRY A. WHEELER
  HARVEY C. WHEELER
  HARVEY F. WINLOCK
  EDWARD WOOD
  FREDERICK O. WOODRUFF
  SYDNEY R. WRIGHTINGTON


_Executive Committee_

  ROBERT P. CLAPP, _Chairman_
  J. WILLARD HAYDEN, JR., _Executive Director_

  HALLIE C. BLAKE
  GEORGE E. BRIGGS
  EDWARD P. MERRIAM
  CHARLES W. RYDER
  SYDNEY R. WRIGHTINGTON

[Illustration]


_Finance Committee_

  EDWARD P. MERRIAM, _Chairman_

  LYON CARTER
  RICHARD ENGSTROM
  GEORGE L. GILMORE
  ALTON H. HATHAWAY
  J. CHESTER HUTCHINSON
  H. B. LAMONT
  ARTHUR N. MADDISON
  FRED H. MOULTON
  ELWYN G. PRESTON
  F. R. SHEPARD
  JAMES STUART SMITH

[Illustration]


_Advisory Committee_

  HALLIE C. BLAKE, _Chairman_

  THEODORE A. CUSTANCE
  FREDERICK L. EMERY
  W. ROGER GREELEY
  WILLARD C. HILL
  ROBERT H. HOLT
  CHARLES H. MILES
  EDWARD H. SARGENT
  WILLIAM L. SMITH
  EDWIN C. STEVENS
  HARRY A. WHEELER

[Illustration]


_Committee on Book_

  JAMES P. MUNROE, _Chairman_

  MISS MAUD E. ADLINGTON
  MISS MARIAN P. KIRKLAND
  DR. FRED S. PIPER
  HOLLIS WEBSTER


_Committee on Production_

  WALDO F. GLIDDEN, _Chairman_

  AMERICAN LEGION--STANLEY HILL POST NO. 38
      Eugene J. Viano      Charles M. Blake

  AMERICAN LEGION--AUXILIARY NO. 38
      Mrs. Clayton G. Locke      Miss Lillian Viano

  BOARD OF TRADE
      C. E. Hadley      W. E. Mulliken

  BUCKMAN TAVERN COMMUNITY ASSOCIATION
      Mrs. S. Randolph Kelley      Mrs. E. W. Kimball

  CATHOLIC CLUB (Ladies’)
      Mrs. Nancy M. Sealey      Miss Julia O’Leary

  CATHOLIC CLUB (Men’s)
      Geo. H. Gibson      John J. Garrity

  CATHOLIC DAUGHTERS OF AMERICA
      Mrs. Helen R. Fitzgerald      Mrs. Mary F. Buckley

  DAUGHTERS OF AMERICAN REVOLUTION--LEXINGTON CHAPTER
      Miss Amy E. Taylor   Mrs. Edward L. Child   Mrs. Alice Fay Stickel

  EAST LEXINGTON CIVIC ASSOCIATION
      Edgar Harrod      Albert Ross

  FIRST PARISH MEN’S CLUB (Unitarian)
  Louis L. Crone      Ralph H. Elvedt

  FOLLEN CHURCH MEN’S CLUB--EAST LEXINGTON
  Jos. W. Cotton      James M. Nickerson

  GIRL SCOUTS DRUM CORPS
      Miss Hazel Whiting      Mrs. Dorothy G. Hall

  GRAND ARMY OF THE REPUBLIC--GEO. G. MEADE POST NO. 119
      John N. Morse      Everett S. Locke

  HANCOCK CHURCH MEN’S CLUB
      Henry L. Wadsworth      William H. Shurtleff

  HANCOCK SCHOOL
      Miss Harriet S. French      Miss Margaret Noyes

  KNIGHTS OF COLUMBUS--LEXINGTON COUNCIL NO. 94
      James J. McKearney      John J. McCormack

  LAFAYETTE CLUB
      Miss Mary Manley      Miss Anne Moakley

  LEND-A-HAND (Senior)
      Mrs. A. B. Tenney      Mrs. Clarence E. Sprague

  LEXINGTON BOY SCOUTS
      Philip E. Perry      Peter Robertson

  LEXINGTON COUNCIL OF GIRL SCOUTS
      Mrs. Everett S. Emery      Mrs. J. Chester Hutchinson

  LEXINGTON DRUM CORPS
      Chester Doe      Dana Greeley

  LEXINGTON GOLF CLUB
      Edmund S. Childs      Robert Whitney

  LEXINGTON GRANGE NO. 233
      Lawrence G. Mitchell      Matthew Stevenson

  LEXINGTON HISTORICAL SOCIETY
      Mrs. William Hunt      Mrs. Hermann Dudley Murphy

  LEXINGTON HOME AND SCHOOL ASSOCIATION
      Mrs. Walter C. Ballard      Miss Grace P. French

  LEXINGTON MINUTE MEN
      Ezra F. Breed      Bion C. Merry

  LEXINGTON PUBLIC HEALTH ASSOCIATION
      Miss Ellen Tower      S. Lewis Barbour

  LEXINGTON TEACHERS’ CLUB
      Miss Anne L. Forsyth      Miss Bertha V. Hayward

  LIBERTY HEIGHTS IMPROVEMENT ASSOCIATION
      G. W. Nary      James Guthrie

  LIEUT. COL. JOHN W. HUDSON AUXILIARY NO. 11
      Mrs. E. Esther Burnham      Miss Ethel L. Burk

  MEN’S CLUB--CHURCH OF OUR REDEEMER
      J. Fox      Capt. Wm. Young

  OLD BELFRY CLUB
      Jasper A. Lane      Mrs. Harold B. Lamont

  ORDER OF EASTERN STAR
      Mrs. Guyetta G. Broderic      Mrs. Helen H. Smith

  OUTLOOK CLUB
      Miss Marguerite Nichols      Miss Clara Wadleigh

  PARKER SCHOOL
      Miss Sadie I. Burgess      Miss Ruth Morrison

  SCHOOL DEPARTMENT--LEXINGTON
      Miss Mary C. Lusk      Miss Anne L. Forsyth

  SIMON W. ROBINSON LODGE, A. F. & A. M.
      George E. Smith      Robert M. Stone

  SONS OF VETERANS--LIEUT. COL. JOHN W. HUDSON CAMP NO. 105
      Geo. E. Foster      Alfred Haynes

  UNITY LEND-A-HAND
      Mrs. Lyon Carter      Mrs. Robert W. Fernald

  UNITARIAN LAYMEN’S LEAGUE
      Arthur B. Howe      Robert S. Sturtevant

  WOMEN’S RELIEF CORPS NO. 97
      Mrs. Edward L. Child      Mrs. Robert W. Britton




“_Lexington_”

A PAGEANT DRAMA _of the_ AMERICAN FREEDOM

  _Founded upon Great Sayings
  To be Acted in Dumb Show_

  COMPILED AND, IN PART, WRITTEN BY
  SIDNEY HOWARD

  _For the Celebration of the
  One Hundred and Fiftieth Anniversary
  of the Battle of Lexington
  April 19th, 1775_

  [Illustration]

  _Stage Manager_
  WALDO F. GLIDDEN

  _Musical Director_
  CHARLES REPPER

  _Director of Chorus_
  CLARENCE E. BRIGGS




_To My Wife_


  “_The world will little note nor long remember what we say here, but
  it can never forget what they did here_--”

                                                            A. LINCOLN




_Foreword_


The aim of this play is to represent the impulse and the progress of
civil liberty in this country since the commencement of the War for
Independence. The intention is never literal. In spite of a certain
actuality in the presentation of the incidents of “The Glorious
Morning” at Lexington, the play must always be considered and produced
as an abstraction of the events with which it is concerned.

The events themselves are marked by the great sayings of our prophets
of liberty and of sundry other minds of genius, all quite arbitrarily
selected. Great sayings, through their immense significance to the
popular imagination, become symbols of the periods which occasioned
them. Great activities may, in the same sense, be looked upon as
abstractions of the periods and movements which required them and made
them possible.

The great activities of the story of American civil liberty are here
treated in a kind of processional dumb show which amplifies the
quotations placed in the mouths of the two Spokesmen, the Choir of
speakers and the characters in the play. When the dumb show is not
executed in procession, it devolves upon groups which act collectively
as a single individual and, on certain occasions, speak in unison.

Comment upon the action is supplied by a few lines which have been
written for the roles of the Chronicler and Freedom and for the Chorus
of singers.

The play demands an almost continual musical accompaniment. This
should be composed upon the foundation of period songs, particularly
those which are indicated in the text. Also, the various speeches of
the Spokesmen will be enhanced if the composer musically emphasizes
their rhythms with some sort of accompaniment. In the opinion of the
author, the score will be most effectively scored for brass and wind
instruments. The chorus must be a male chorus. The play will suffer,
always, for the introduction of any woman’s voice except as indicated
in the text.

The action is continuous; its changes of locale and atmosphere being
indicated only by shifting emphases in the lighting.

The acting presents no difficulty beyond that of securing actors
with good voices who have troubled to learn how to speak the English
language.




_Characters in the Play_


  THE CHRONICLER.
  THE TWO SPOKESMEN.
  FREEDOM.

  PARSON CLARK OF LEXINGTON.
  CAPTAIN JOHN PARKER OF THE LEXINGTON COMPANY.
  SERGEANT MUNROE OF THE LEXINGTON COMPANY.
  WILLIAM DIAMOND OF THE LEXINGTON COMPANY (drummer).
  JONATHAN HARRINGTON OF THE LEXINGTON COMPANY (fifer).
  MAJOR PITCAIRN.
  TWO BRITISH LIEUTENANTS.
  JOHN MUNROE OF THE LEXINGTON COMPANY.
  EBENEZER MUNROE OF THE LEXINGTON COMPANY.

  GEORGE WASHINGTON.
  EDMUND PENDLETON.
  PATRICK HENRY.
  THE PRESIDENT OF CONGRESS.

  GENERAL HOWE.
  MAJOR ANDRE.

  ALEXANDER HAMILTON.

  JOHN BROWN.
  ABRAHAM LINCOLN.
  GENERAL GRANT.
  GENERAL LEE.




_Groups in the Play_


  THE CITIZENS OF LEXINGTON. (Men, women and children.)
  THE LEXINGTON COMPANY. (Men.)
  TWO REGIMENTS OF BRITISH INFANTRY. (Men.)
  THE CONTINENTAL ARMY. (Men.)
  THE PEOPLE OF THE UNITED STATES. (Men, women and children.)
  THE CITIZENS OF PHILADELPHIA. (Men and women.)
  THE PIONEERS. (Men, women and children.)
  THE SLAVES. (Men.)
  THE EXECUTIONERS OF JOHN BROWN. (Men.)
  THE ARMY OF THE UNION. (Men.)
  THE ARMY OF THE CONFEDERACY. (Men.)
  THE RAILROAD BUILDERS. (Men.)
  THE STEEL WORKERS. (Men.)
  THE COAL MINERS. (Men.)
  THE FARMERS. (Men.)
  THE BUILDERS. (Men.)
  THE FACTORY HANDS. (Women and children.)
  THE MEEK MEN. (Men.)
  WEALTH. (Men.)
  LABOR. (Men.)
  GOVERNMENT. (Men.)
  UNREST. (Men.)
  THE PAST. (Men.)

  A CHOIR OF SPEAKERS.
  A CHORUS OF SINGERS.
  BUGLERS AND DRUMMERS.




“_Lexington_”


_Think of the place in which the play is to be produced, just as it has
been adapted from the natural forest. Think of the curving sleeve of
water which lies along the lowermost edge of the scene, of the rising
slopes and levels which surmount one another so spaciously, of the
trees which close in back and sides._

_Then, into the face of the slope immediately above the water’s
edge and directly in the center, set a simple low throne and put a
conventional lectern before it. Flank this with two lower seats, even
more simple. Build this whole group as gracefully and as lightly as the
best taste of the best Georgian period dictates and paint it the purest
white._

_This done, go to the extreme limits of the front of the scene and,
just at the edge of the trees, erect two pedestals. These, in height,
must a little more than top a man’s stature. In style and decoration
they are as chaste as the central group. Probably they are finished
with an exquisite cornice and adorned with garlands in low relief, just
brushed with gold. Upon each one of them set a solid, simple throne,
quite like the one you have already put in the center._

_The Chronicler sits on the central throne. He is already in his
place when the doors of the auditorium are opened to admit the first
spectator. So are the two Drummers who occupy the low seats on either
side of him. So are the two Spokesmen who sit atop the two pedestals._

_For the Chronicler’s role an actor of fine Anglo-Saxon type must
be engaged, one able to speak English with beautiful and natural
precision. The same is true of the roles of the two Spokesmen._

_The Chronicler wears buff breeches, a white shirt and a blue coat
which hangs nobly from his shoulders and spreads over the arms of his
seat. His hair, of a natural brown, is pulled back from his brow and
tied with a black velvet ribbon. The lectern before him supports a
great book. At the commencement of the play he opens this book and, at
the end, he closes it. From time to time, during the action, he writes
in it, using a large and snowy-white quill pen._

_The Drummers who sit on either side of him are dressed in scarlet and
as alike as two peas, in costume, make up and cut of hair. Neither one
of them has ever any occasion to speak. Each one of them must devote
his attention wholly to playing upon a great kettledrum which will be
provided for this purpose. The two drums are tuned a diminished third
apart._

_The two Spokesmen will wear the scarlet robes and white wigs of
British justices. They never move during the entire play._

_All of these five persons, it must be repeated, will be in their
places when the auditorium opens. None of them can be allowed to move
until the auditorium has emptied. They must think of themselves as
parts of the fixed scene._

_Behind them, the slope flattens slightly and this area will,
hereinafter, be described as the “Forestage.” Behind that, again,
comes a second, slighter rise and that is succeeded by a much more
considerable level place. This second level will hereinafter be spoken
of as the “Stage.”_

_The stage is set to represent the Common of Lexington in the year
1775. The road from Cambridge and Boston enters at the back center and
divides, passing the Meeting House on either side. The Meeting House is
erected, full size, just at the back of the stage and directly in the
center, thus masking this road. A little down on the right (in these
stage directions right and left refer to the hands of the audience)
stands the Old Belfry. Further over to the right, half buried in the
trees, are the old horse sheds. Further down stage on the right stands
the Marrett-Munroe House, also half buried in foliage, and the Concord
Road leaves the Common as far down stage on the right as the planting
permits. On the left, just a little below the position occupied on the
right by the horse sheds, stands the Buckman Tavern. Then, all the way
down stage left stands the Parsonage of the Rev. Jonas Clark. This
should be set a little apart from the Common to suggest its remoteness.
A road leads past this in the direction of Bedford._

_These entrances will hereinafter be referred to as the Boston, Concord
and Bedford Roads respectively. Other village paths may be supposed to
lead on to the Common at any convenient points._

_When the first member of the audience enters, it is twilight. He finds
the life of the village going on with full realism of detail except
that it is in no wise audible. He is looking at a soundless vision of
the eighteenth day of April, one hundred and fifty years ago. Villagers
are chatting about the doorway of the Buckman Tavern. They come in
and go out. They wear long coats and smoke long pipes and drink long
drinks. Some of them discuss a newspaper excitedly. What they are
saying cannot be heard, for they play entirely in dumb show. A century
and a half is too great a time to be bridged easily by sound._

_Silent as the rest a boy guards a flock of a few sheep in the center
of the Common. Young girls, going about pleasure or business and quite
free from any preoccupation with the serious matters which engross the
tavern’s patrons, stop to chat with him._

_Presently a young farmer drives his cows in from pasture. Presently
other farmers return from the fields, carrying the crude agricultural
implements of their day. Presently another farmer drives his emptied
truck wagon home from market._

_Presently a traveler on a jaded mare comes up the Boston Road and
halts by the Buckman Tavern. The citizens gather about him greedily.
Greedy, it would seem, for news. And he gives them news before he has
finished his ale and ridden on down the Bedford Road._

_As the play’s commencement draws near, an old man comes out of the
Meeting House. The children, playing about the Belfry, run into him
and he admonishes them. Then he rings the bell. At first one cannot be
quite sure of the bell. Then the spell becomes stronger and it does
clang dimly through._




_Part One_

[Illustration]

“_The Glorious Morning_”


  [_The Chronicler opens his book and begins to write._

  _In the far distance, a bugler blows “Assembly.”_

  _For the first time, the Chronicler lifts his head and looks at the
  audience._

  _Just a little nearer than the bugle some horns play “Yankee Doodle.”_

  _In the darkling tavern faint voices of men take up the chorus._

  _A very little light shines upon the Chronicler’s figure. He rises
  and lifts his right hand._

  _The Drummers play a long roll._

  _Then the Chronicler speaks._]

THE CHRONICLER

(_Directly into the audience._)

In the Book of American Freedom it has been written that the Town
of Lexington, in the County of Middlesex, in the Commonwealth of
Massachusetts, shall be designated as “The Birthplace of American
Liberty.” This, says the book, is a fitting designation because the
events which had their scene in Lexington on the glorious morning of
the nineteenth of April one hundred and fifty years ago this year did
forever mark and set aside the town to be a symbol of liberty to all
free nations and all free peoples.

  [_The Drummers play another roll on their drums and the Chronicler
  sits._

  _Off stage, to a noble tune which gradually increases in volume, the
  Chorus sings two verses from Drayton’s “To the Virginian Voyage.”_]

THE CHORUS

  You brave, heroic minds,
      Worthy your country’s name,
      That honor still pursue;
      Go and subdue!
  Whilst loitering hinds
      Lurk here at home with shame.

  And in regions far,
      Such heroes bring ye forth
      As those from whom we came;
      And plant our name
  Under that star
      Not known unto our north.

  [_As the singing diminishes, the light grows upon the thrones of
  the two Spokesmen and they begin. They speak eagerly, almost in a
  monotone, following no rhythm but the inevitable throb of Carlyle’s
  prose. The bell, too, follows this throb, sounding ever louder and
  more insistently through their words._]

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

The world is all so changed; so much that seemed vigorous has sunk
decrepit, so much that was not is beginning to be!

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

(_Swinging antiphonally into tone and tempo._)

Borne over the Atlantic what sounds are these; muffled-ominous, new in
our centuries?

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

Boston Harbor is black with unexpected Tea!

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

Behold a Pennsylvanian Congress gather!

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

And ere long, on Bunker Hill....

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

DEMOCRACY....

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

Announcing in rifle-volleys, death winged....

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

Under her Star Banner....

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

To the tune of Yankee-Doodle-Doo....

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

That she is _born_....

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

And whirlwind-like....

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

Will envelope the whole world!

  [_The drums roll out. The lights die down on the Spokesmen. In the
  meanwhile, answering the summons of the bell ringer, the people of
  Lexington have come out of street and tavern in the twilight and
  gathered about the Meeting House steps._

  _Jonas Clark has gone to them to stand upon the steps facing them. He
  is now in his forty-fifth year, a vigorous, lean, eager man with a
  spirit of gripping and convincing sincerity._

  _At the conclusion of the words of the Spokesmen, all of the
  villagers are gathered together about their pastor, save one girl.
  She is distinguished from her sisters of the village, less by her
  dress (which is commonplace enough) than by a strange and wild
  loveliness and by a deep absorption in her own thoughts. She is tall
  and very beautiful and a prophetic intensity possesses her._

  _Led by their pastor, the people about the Meeting House lift their
  voices in the fifty-ninth Psalm._]

PARSON CLARK

Deliver me from mine enemies, O my God: set me on high from those that
rise up against me. Deliver me from the workers of iniquity, and save
me from the blood-thirsty men.

THE PEOPLE

For, lo, they lie in wait for my soul; the mighty gather themselves
together against me: not for my transgression, nor for my sin, O Lord;
they run and prepare themselves without my fault.

PARSON CLARK

For the sin of their mouth and the words of their lips, let them even
be taken in their pride, and for cursing and lying which they speak.

THE PEOPLE

Yea, I will sing aloud of thy mercy in the morning, for thou hast been
my high tower, and a refuge in the day of my distress.

PARSON CLARK

Unto thee, O my Strength, will I sing praises, for God is my high
tower, the God of my mercy.

  [_Then the people fall silent and do not move. But the great words
  that they have spoken together have very deeply stirred this single
  girl who has stood apart and listened. With the last word of the
  Psalm, she seems of a sudden to grow taller. A smile like light
  itself spreads over her face. Light seems to grow out of her. She
  lifts her two arms in a wild abandonment to exaltation and cries
  out._]

THE GIRL

Ah!

  [_The Chronicler looks up in amazement at this sudden shout._

  _The girl takes a few tense steps down toward him and the light about
  her grows ever in whiteness._]

THE GIRL

  Write more, write more, you Chronicler!
  Write how the roots
  Stir in the ground!
  Write how the sap
  Stirs in the trees!
  Write how the thaw
  Gives breath of life!
  And write how God
  Peers through the firmament
  Upon the continents; for this day is glory!

THE CHRONICLER

Who are you, Girl?

THE GIRL

Men call me different names. God calls me Freedom!

  [_Upon this, a gigantic roll of the drums. The girl, Freedom, turns
  her back slowly upon the audience as Parson Clark begins to address
  his congregation. She goes up, tensely and superbly, face to face
  with him._]

PARSON CLARK

It has come now to our turn, Americans, to see what we can do. The
indignant spirit of self-government which inspired our ancestors is
now pronounced by the Lords and Commons of England to be a spirit of
rebellion. The colonies hesitate not a moment, but unite and greatly
dare to be free. God who sitteth upon the throne of his holiness, the
governor among nations, will know our cause and uphold our right to
freedom. Let us pray.

  [_The people kneel. Only the girl, Freedom, stands upright. The
  Parson prays, the people repeating his prayer with him in unison. She
  walks rigidly up the slope to the edge of the crowd to the Parson’s
  side. At the end of the prayer she is standing beside him. This is
  the prayer_:]

OMNES

O Lord, when dangers surround us and oppressors threaten our rights
and enemies invade our homes, we, thy people, look to thee, O Lord,
for our refuge and, committing our cause to thy wisdom and justice, we
do humbly expect, O Lord, that light will arise in darkness, that the
power of the oppressor may be broken, that our enemies will not prevail
against us, that our God will maintain our right. Amen.

  [_As Freedom entered the crowd, the light about her seemed to invest
  it with a very wonderful splendor. During the prayer, however, and at
  the end, only Freedom and the Parson are visible. Then the light goes
  entirely, the hymn dies out and the crowd disperses in the darkness._

  _Then the light glows upon the two Spokesmen and they begin to speak
  again. This time dim music accompanies their words ... spoken once to
  the House of Commons by Edmund Burke._]

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

A government against which a claim of freedom is tantamount to high
treason is a government to which submission is equivalent to slavery.

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

The people of the colonies are the descendants of Englishmen and
therefore love liberty according to English ideas and on English
principles.

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

Men may be as sorely touched and as deeply grieved in their privileges
as in their purses; men may lose little in property by the act which
takes away all their freedom.

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

To prove that Americans ought not to be free we are obliged to
depreciate the value of freedom itself.

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

“An Englishman is the unfittest person on earth to argue another
Englishman into slavery.”

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

“A great empire and little minds go ill together.”

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

“We stand where we have an immense view of what is and what is past.”

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

“Clouds, indeed, and darkness rest upon the future.”

  [_The music ends in another roll of drums. The Chronicler rises._]

THE CHRONICLER

The alarm is toward. The night of watching commences.

  [_He sits again. The Belfry tolls midnight. Through the darkness
  a voice is heard calling the roll of the Lexington Company. It is
  Sergeant William Munroe._]

MUNROE

(_Each man answering “Here!” as his name is pronounced._) Isaac
Blodgett ... Ebenezer Bowman ... Francis Bowman ... John Bridge ...
Joseph Bridge ... James Brown ... John Brown ... Solomon Brown ... John
Buckman ... Eli Burdoo ...

  [_The light of very early morning shows the Company drawn up
  diagonally across the scene in attitudes of attention. Captain John
  Parker stands in thought a little apart. Parson Clark looks down upon
  the people from the Meeting House. The men and women of the town
  hover on the outskirts of the scene._

  _The kettledrums drown the Sergeant’s voice. Music bursts forth, a
  crashing theme which can be divided by the demands of the subsequent
  dialogue and by rolling of the kettledrums._

  _The greatest possible amount of light blazes upon the Meeting House
  door. Thence, like a comet, Freedom comes. She is robed now in a
  cloak of flame and a scarlet cap of liberty crowns her. Perhaps the
  drums continue, perhaps the theme of triumph modulates softly beneath
  her shouted words._]

FREEDOM

Huzza!

THE MINUTE MEN

(_Statues, all._)

Huzza!

FREEDOM

Answer, Mankind!

A VAST SHOUT OUT OF THE DEPTHS OF THE HILLS

Huzza!

FREEDOM

  Soldiers of Liberty,
  Make your arms strong!
  Make your hearts stout!
  Make your souls great!

THE MINUTE MEN

(_As before._)

Huzza!

THE SHOUT FROM THE HILLS

(_As before._)

Huzza!

FREEDOM

  Soldiers of Liberty,
  I am your dream,
  I am your cause,
  I am your destiny!

THE MINUTE MEN

(_As before._)

Huzza!

THE SHOUT FROM THE HILLS

(_As before._)

Huzza!

FREEDOM

  Breathe with my breath!
  Strike with my sword!
  Bleed with my blood!
  Be life!
  Be love!
  Be sacrifice!
  Be death!

THE MINUTE MEN

(_As before._)

Huzza!

THE SHOUT FROM THE HILLS

(_As before._)

Huzza!

FREEDOM

  I bid you stand!
  I bid you strike!
  I bid you die!
  Take me!
  Believe me!
  Obey me!
  Adore me!
  I am come to lead you,
  Soldiers of Liberty!
  I am come to lead you forever.

  [_A tremendous huzza and the music blares forth and there is darkness
  again save for the lights in the houses, and upon the Chronicler. The
  music subsides to hesitant themes and into a lyric eloquence of dawn
  and cool breezes and the early light which presently steals across
  the tree tops. The Chronicler rises._]

THE CHRONICLER

You will see now, in one incalculable and everlasting instant, the
nativity of a nation. The night of watching passes and the day dawns
that is glory.

  [_He sits. The light spreads over the scene and shows the people and
  the Company. Freedom has vanished._

  _Captain Parker arouses himself at once._]

PARKER

Those of you who are equipped, stand fast. Those of you who lack
equipment, go into the Meeting House and supply yourselves. Then come
back to your places.

  [_There is some business of inspecting equipments. Each man looks
  into his powder horn and some of them try the triggers of their
  muskets._

  _The light increases a little. The music becomes more excited._]

PARKER

William Diamond, let me hear your drum. Jonathan Harrington, where is
your fife?

  [_Drum and fife break loose._]

A MINUTE MAN

This is folly and we so few!

PARKER

Folly or sense, I will shoot the first man who runs.

MUNROE

Fall in!

  [_The Company comes to attention in absolute silence. The line
  extends almost across the stage. The backs of the Minute Men cut the
  scene diagonally. Parker stands down stage at the lower or right
  end of the line. Parker and the Parson are always visible to the
  audience. A silence is broken only by drum taps; and by the footfalls
  (off stage) of marching men._

  _Clark lifts his hands to heaven a moment in silent prayer._]

PARKER

(_To the Minute Men in a voice of thunder._)

Stand your ground. Don’t fire unless you’re fired upon. But if they
mean to have a war, let it begin here!

  [_The rising sun blazes upon the British redcoats as they appear on
  both sides of the Meeting House. First the scarlet figure of Major
  Pitcairn, riding his horse, then the British column, four abreast,
  with the lieutenant of each platoon marching in his place._

  _Pitcairn sees the unwavering line of Minute Men and pulls his horse
  up sharp._]

PITCAIRN

Halt!

  [_The Britishers halt, the order being repeated down the column.
  For an instant there is no motion of any kind. No sound except an
  occasional throb of a kettledrum, defying rhythm now as the shots
  will do in a moment._

  _Pitcairn comes a few steps forward. He looks at the colonists. He
  laughs bitterly._]

PITCAIRN

Throw down your arms, you damned rebels!

  [_No one moves._]

D’ye hear me?

  [_Slowly Parker turns and looks upon his little, feeble line of men.
  Then he looks again at the Britishers. Then we see him realize the
  futility of his attempt._

  _Very reluctantly the line of Minute Men sways and loosens. It does
  not quite break. Its manœuver is rather that of retiring. Then a few
  draw angrily back and a few more stand defiantly. Jonas Parker throws
  his hat at his feet._]

JONAS PARKER

Here I stand, so help me God!

  [_An angry murmur of resentment rises from the Minute Men. Parker is
  spellbound. Pitcairn turns to his first platoon lieutenant._]

PITCAIRN

Surround and disarm these rebels.

  [_The lieutenant gives the proper commands to bring the first British
  platoon down stage and into line. The second, under command of its
  own lieutenant, follows and the British Company stands, so, drawn up
  in company front facing the retreating Minute Men._]

THE FIRST LIEUTENANT

Damn ’em, Major, we’ll get at ’em....

  [_He gives the order by which the first platoon should deploy as
  skirmishers for the business of disarming the colonists. The platoon
  breaks with another cheer, but before its men have taken two steps,
  one of the Minute Men, a figure lost in the shadow and the crowd, has
  fired his musket at Major Pitcairn._

  _The British stop in amazement._

  _Immediately John and Ebenezer Munroe lift their muskets._]

JOHN MUNROE

I’ll give ’em the guts of my gun!

  [_They fire almost together, wounding the Major’s horse._

  _Seeing the Major’s horse plunge, the first lieutenant cries_:]

THE FIRST LIEUTENANT

The Major’s hit.... Fire, damn you, fire!

  [_The first platoon fires--too high, it would seem, for no Minute Men
  fall. But the Minute Men fire back, Lieutenant Tidd, Ebenezer Locke,
  Nathan Munroe, Jonas Parker and Benjamin Sampson._

  _Parker stands frozen._

  _Pitcairn tries to control his horse._]

THE SECOND LIEUTENANT

Fire, by God, fire!

  [_The second platoon fires._

  _Then everything happens at once. The music crashes out a theme which
  terminates in a high tremolo. Pitcairn is seen to signal cease firing
  with his sword. The Minute Men break, all but Jonathan Parker who has
  been wounded by the volley of the second platoon and sinks to his
  knees trying to reload his gun. Jonathan Harrington, wounded, runs
  down stage left where his wife is cowering in the corner and there
  dies in her arms. Two of the Minute Men overpower Parker and drag him
  off. Robert Munroe, wounded, falls and dies beside the horse sheds.
  Solomon Brown, firing from the Buckman Tavern, is silenced by a
  volley fired toward the tavern and continues shooting from the trees.
  The three escape fighting from the Meeting House. The British clear
  the Common, bayonetting Jonas Parker as they go._

  _Then it is over._]

PITCAIRN

We shall have further to go than Concord before this morning’s work is
finished. Fall in!

  [_The music strikes into a dissonant march as the Britishers fall in._

  _Pitcairn rides up the Concord Road. The lieutenants lead the
  platoon after him. The march comes to its end as the last Britisher
  disappears. The scene is left to a dying away of the march in the
  minor resolution and to Parson Clark and the seven dead._

  _Parson Clark comes two or three paces forward._]

CLARK

“Then Samuel took a stone and set it between Mispeh and Shen, where
the battle was fought, and called the name of it Ebenezer, saying:
‘Hitherto hath the Lord helped us!’”

  [_In frightened little groups, the people come back and gather about
  their dead._]

Lexington has been allotted by providence to meet the first blow, to
offer the first sacrifice. Thus far hath the Lord helped us.

  [_Parker comes forward quickly, but Clark stops him, lifting his
  hands to the heavens and crying out_:]

“Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, but unto thy name give glory!”

  [_Parker bows his head._]

As to what is still before us, we do not anxiously inquire nor proudly
prophesy. Our cause is just.

PARKER

They must come back from Concord.

CLARK

That is true. Carry the dead into God’s house. Blessed be the name of
the Lord!

  [_He has shouted this last. The people begin to pick up the dead and
  to carry them toward the Meeting House whither Parker and Clark walk
  together. The music strikes into a march, as solemn and grand as any
  march can be and the Chorus sings_:]

THE CHORUS

  O Lord, who wert our free-born fathers’ Guide,
  Judge us for our unalterable intent;
  Govern us, God, with Thy still government,
  Telling our fathers how their sons have died.

  [_Before the singing is done, all of the people have vanished within
  the Meeting House. When the stage is emptied, the Chronicler rises._]

THE CHRONICLER

The instant is delivered into time.

  [_He sits and Minute Men come up the Bedford Road. They are armed.
  They cross the stage in groups of three to twelve and go out by the
  Concord Road. The music quickens once more. The light is the most
  brilliant of full afternoon._

  _People come out of the houses and the paths and peer excitedly up
  the Concord Road. Scattered shots begin to be audible from that
  direction. The knots of people point in triumphant excitement up
  the road. Suddenly they withdraw, scattering in excited confusion.
  Shouts and shots sound nearer and closer together. Then the British,
  routed and retreating from Concord, surge through the Common and out
  behind the Meeting House and there are shots, too, from there. The
  huzzas of the colonists all but drown the shouts and musketry. About
  the Meeting House a cloud rises that may be dust but is presently
  seen to be steam. The stage darkens. Only the wild music and the
  shoutings continue and, in the midst of the steam curtain, Freedom,
  more gorgeous than ever, shouts louder than the rest, her arms madly
  lifted to heaven. The steam is many colored, then it dies to the
  single figure. Then it is darkness and the music falls with it. Then
  the steam is gone and the Meeting House with it and the Buckman
  Tavern and all other evidences of Lexington Common are gone and in
  their place is a new scene altogether._]




_Part Two_

[Illustration]

“_Political Freedom_”


  [_It is a long garden stair which we are shown, a stair suggested
  by some of the planting we have already seen but which begins its
  Georgian graciousness just where the Meeting House stood a moment
  since. It rises in shallow steps broken by broad levels, three of
  them, if possible, and on each of the levels, a bench, very simple
  and dignified. These levels will hereinafter be referred to as the
  first, second and third landings. The third is a long terrace,
  lined, in its central portion, by a chaste and lovely balustrade
  which extends to a planting of delicately trimmed shrubbery. The
  whole scene has the look of some exquisite New England garden of the
  eighteenth century._

  _The musical accompaniment of this revelation is serenity itself.
  Freedom stands on the lowermost step of the stair. She wears more
  than ever gorgeous raiment. She stands there as though she paused
  in her ascent to look back into the audience. On either side of the
  stair, the Choir of speakers is banked, thirty-two in all, dressed
  pictorially, yet not so brightly as to distract the eye from the
  action of the play._]

FREEDOM

  Revolt is the way of Freedom,
  And the progress of Freedom is Change.

(_Then a wild cry._)

  Bloodily! Bloodily!
  Revolt! Revolt! Revolt!

(_Then more calmly._)

  Look that you curb us not,
  My men and I;
  For present liberties enslave tomorrow,
  And present triumphs shackle future years.
  We see no limit set upon our purpose
  Short of the Godhead ... so, restrain us not.
  Be it here sworn:
  These dead of Lexington
  Have not vainly died,
  These living
  Have not vainly dreamed.

  [_She goes on up the stair._]

THE CHOIR

(_Almost a whisper._)

These dead....

THE CHORUS

(_Off stage, an echo of the burial song._)

God, tell our fathers how their sons have died!

THE CHRONICLER

The story of the American Freedom is begun.

  [_The singing subsides and Freedom turns again, lifting her right
  arm in a supreme gesture of command. Thereupon light blazes over the
  first Spokesman and the clarion words of Patrick Henry break from his
  lips._]

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

Appeal to arms and to the God of Hosts! There is no peace! Our brethren
are already in the field!

  [_Another gesture from Freedom and the second Spokesman is
  illuminated to shout, as his antiphonal response, the words of Tom
  Paine._]

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

Oh, ye that love mankind, stand forth! Oh, ye that dare oppose the
tyranny and the tyrant, stand forth!

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

Is life so dear or peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of
chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God!

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

Freedom hath been hunted round the globe. England hath given her
warning to depart. Oh, receive the fugitive and prepare, in time, an
asylum for mankind!

  [_Freedom’s two arms go wildly up._]

A GREAT SHOUT FROM THE HILLS

Give me liberty or give me death!

FREEDOM

  Who shall be master of this high event,
  And take revolt beneath his government?

THE CHOIR

Washington! Washington! Washington!

FREEDOM

  An hour, a destiny,
  And the need of man
  For leadership, these three
  God answers perfectly;
  And, in the tumult and the darkness, lo,
  A hero comes
  So solemnly,
  And the shoutings die and the drums
  Are still and the van
  Of battle takes its leader so,
  And the race, its guardian,
  And none has been more greatly strong than he
  In resolution and humility.

THE CHOIR

(_Almost in a whisper._)

Washington!

  [_Three men have ridden into the scene. They are Patrick Henry,
  Edmund Pendleton and George Washington. There to meet them come
  the President of the Continental Congress and Members of Congress.
  Washington dismounts and advances until the President and he stand
  face to face._]

THE PRESIDENT OF CONGRESS

(_Very solemnly._)

We, reposing special trust and confidence in your patriotism, valor,
conduct and fidelity, do, by these presents, constitute and appoint
you to be general and commander-in-chief of the army of the United
Colonies and of all the forces now raised or to be raised by them for
the defense of American Liberty.

  [_He presents the sword of office to Washington who stands looking
  very seriously at it._]

WASHINGTON

I beg it may be remembered that I this day declare with utmost
sincerity I do not think myself equal to the command I am honored with.
But, as it has been a kind of destiny that has thrown me upon this
service, I shall hope that my undertaking it is designed to answer some
good purpose.

  [_He accepts the sword. A great sigh comes like a hope from all
  around._

  _A roll of snare drums far away and the groupings shift so that
  Washington and Freedom stand alone together and the others draw
  aside. Drum rhythms succeed one another until they resolve into two
  themes. The one, played by the kettledrums, follows the syncopation
  of the Spokesmen’s words. The other, played by the snare drums,
  marks the time of a march. To this accompaniment, the Continental
  Army comes upon the scene. First, the farmers who have left their
  ploughs to join Warren for Bunker Hill. Then the tatterdemalion army
  of which Washington took command for the siege of Boston. Then the
  mob takes on form and appearance and order such as it must have had
  to accomplish Burgoyne’s defeat, and the retreat through Jersey.
  At the same time the Choir has begun to intone the Declaration of
  Independence. The two Spokesmen listen and take up their shouted
  responses. And the intoning runs rhythmically, following the accents
  of the kettledrums which, in their turn, follow the accents of
  Jefferson’s prose._]

FOUR VOICES FROM THE CHOIR

When in the course of human events it becomes necessary for one
people to dissolve the political bands which have connected them with
another....

EIGHT VOICES FROM THE CHOIR

(_Upon a higher note._)

And to assume among the powers of the earth the separate and equal
station to which the laws of nature and of nature’s God entitle them....

FOUR VOICES FROM THE CHOIR

(_Upon the same note as before._)

They should declare the causes which impel them to the separation....

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

We hold these truths to be self-evident....

FREEDOM

All men are created free and equal....

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

Endowed by their creator with certain inalienable rights....

FREEDOM WITH FOUR VOICES

Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness....

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

To secure these rights governments are instituted among men....

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

Deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed....

FOUR VOICES FROM THE CHOIR

Whenever any form of government becomes destructive to these ends....

EIGHT VOICES FROM THE CHOIR

(_Upon a higher note._)

It is the right of the people to alter or to abolish it....

TWELVE VOICES FROM THE CHOIR

(_Upon a still higher note._)

And to institute new government to provide new guards for their future
security.

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN AND FOUR VOICES

We, therefore....

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN AND FOUR VOICES

The representatives of the United States of America....

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN AND FOUR VOICES

(_Upon a higher note._)

In general congress assembled....

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN AND FOUR VOICES

(_Upon the same note._)

Appealing to the supreme judge of the world for the rectitude of our
intentions....

FREEDOM AND FOUR VOICES

Do, in the name and authority of the good people of these colonies....

(_Four more Voices._)

Solemnly publish and declare....

(_Full Choir crescendo._)

That these United States are and of right ought to be free and
independent states....

  [_The army is assembled and cheers its chief with three mighty huzzas
  which are part of a triumphant burst of melody. Washington stands
  immobile and Freedom, likewise, above and behind him. The music dies
  into mourning. The light dies except upon Washington and the central
  and most ragged group which, in varied attitudes of weariness, sinks
  to the ground about him. The light is dismal._]

THE CHRONICLER

(_Rising and speaking to the audience._)

The soul of an event is the vision which God sets before its hero; its
life hangs upon the faith men bring to it. The heroes of God’s choosing
make Him manifest to man; but the faith of man is a wretched thing. Now
this event fares mournfully, for the army of revolt is more cruelly
driven by the doubts and jealousies of man than by the winds and snows
of winter, and the meaning of Freedom is forgotten in the fact of
hardship. Within himself and his great enterprise the chieftain stands
steadfast, concerned only with the omen and the pity of the time.

  [_Men’s voices sing again, weakly. The song is the hymn of
  Washington’s soldiers which they sang about the campfires of Valley
  Forge. The soldiers move about, warming their bodies wretchedly at
  imaginary campfires._]

CHORUS

  Lessons of war from him we take
  And manly weapons learn to wield;
  Strong bows of steel with ease we break,
  Forced by our stronger arms to yield.
  ’Tis God that still supports our right,
  His just revenge our foes pursues;
  ’Tis He, that, with resistless might,
  Fierce nations to His power subdues.

  [_Washington, as the chorus dies, moves at last and begins to speak,
  and his men crouch about his feet as in the dim light of campfires._]

WASHINGTON

What is to become of the army this winter? We are barefoot and naked.
Soldiers are not made of sticks and stones to occupy a cold, bleak hill
and sleep under frost and snow without clothes or blankets. Unless some
great and capital change takes place, this army must inevitably starve,
dissolve or disperse. From my soul I pity these miseries which it is
not in my power to relieve or prevent.

  [_The light fades except upon Washington and Freedom._]

FREEDOM

  I have cried out your name to the broad heavens,
  I have given your courage to the stars to shout.
  Be of good cheer, my leader,
  The strong and the young have heard and will give answer,
  The day is not yet lost.

  [_Washington looks hopefully into her beautiful, pitiful face as she
  bends over him. The light leaves them and the Chronicler rises._]

THE CHRONICLER

How differently fare the enemies of Freedom! In Philadelphia where the
British are, is a time of plenty and of high festival.

  [_There is music, suddenly and very bright and as the light floods
  the scene, two British soldiers have run in with regimental colors
  which conceal Freedom and Washington and the stair from our view.
  Then a gay crowd troops on to the stage and a double column of
  grenadiers in scarlet coats. The soldiers quickly form the three
  sides of a rectangle and General Howe and Major Andre ride into their
  midst. Ladies are there, richly clad and elaborately coiffured.
  Musicians are there with huge bass viols and sundry eccentric
  instruments of the period. When all the crowd are assembled, General
  Howe and Major Andre ride down to the water’s edge to welcome two
  barges. In one of them is the English Queen of Beauty and, in the
  other, the American Queen of Beauty. Each of the queens is attended
  by a bevy of damsels in Turkish costumes. General Howe leads the
  English Queen to her throne. Major Andre performs the same function
  for the American Queen. The damsels follow them and the barges are
  pulled away out of sight._

  _Immediately the two queens have been enthroned, twelve knights ride
  into the scene, dressed in eighteenth century adaptations of the
  habiliments of chivalry. They divide into two parties, the Knights of
  the Blended Rose and the Knights of the Burning Mountain. Each party
  salutes its queen and the mock tournament is played out, terminating
  in an exchange of pistol fire without casualties. Then the horses
  are led off and the knights and the ladies all join in a brilliant,
  stately dance which ends in a picture centering in the two queens,
  each one of whom has removed a slipper from which her particular
  knight is drinking wine._

  _Then the rout is scattered by the sound of cannon and all the gay
  folk run screaming and darkness gathers except for a single ray of
  light which strikes across the stage. Into this a horseman gallops
  frantically._]

THE HORSEMAN

(_Shouting._)

Yorktown! Yorktown is taken!

  [_At the same time, Freedom and Washington and his army have been
  revealed. Cannon boom and flash over their joyous faces and the army
  breaks into frenzied cheering. The Chronicler leaps to his feet._]

THE CHRONICLER

Yorktown! The first goal is won!

  [_Light spreads once more over the scene and, to the old English
  tune of “The World is Upside Down,” Cornwallis’ army marches out of
  Yorktown and surrenders. Freedom dominates the whole scene in her
  exultation. “The World is Upside Down” becomes a triumphal march
  and all the multitude of the people prance into the scene. Then
  dissonance creeps into the music and discord into the movement of the
  crowd. The Chronicler rises._]

THE CHRONICLER

Chaos succeeds revolt and triumph gives way to greed and hatred and
what was harmony in war becomes jealousy and faction, for the faith of
the people is dead and the united colonies break asunder, each one for
itself.

  [_Loyalists are singled out, perhaps, and stoned and jostled from
  the scene. Cheers become snarls. The multitude separates into small
  units, thirteen of them. These seem to wrangle among themselves,
  then, like so many socks, to turn inside out so that each menaces the
  other. The light over the multitude is murky. The music subsides to a
  low, ominous sound._

  _All this time Washington has stood imperturbably upon the stair,
  looking grimly down with the eloquence and understanding of a great
  fatalism. Freedom, however, is amazed. She wrings her hands in
  despair. She cries out in anguish._]

FREEDOM

  Sowing salvation, do I reap
  Havoc for harvest?

THE CHRONICLER

Upon the human tempest descends, once more, the calm of leadership. A
marvelous boy emerges. The word is Hamilton’s.

FREEDOM

Ah!

  [_She watches anxiously as Hamilton steps out of the gloom and
  comes up into the light about herself and Washington. Hope revives
  in her. She reaches her arms out toward him. Light shines upon the
  Spokesmen._]

HAMILTON

The business of America’s happiness is yet to be done.

(_The crowd snarls more loudly than ever._)

There is something noble and magnificent in the perspective of a great
Federal Republic.... There is something proportionally diminutive and
contemptible in the prospect of petty states with the appearance only
of union.

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

(_To Freedom, speaking Hamilton’s words._)

Happy America, if those to whom thou hast entrusted the guardianship of
thy infancy know how to provide for thy future repose!

  [_From the people, a mocking laugh._]

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

(_Also speaking Hamilton’s words._)

Miserable and undone if their negligence or ignorance permits the
spirit of discord to erect her banner on the ruins of your tranquillity!

  [_Again the laughter of the people._

  _Washington looks toward Hamilton who comes up nearer his chief.
  Freedom blesses him. The crowd shake their fists at him and turn away
  their faces. The laughter develops into a horrible jeer. Then Freedom
  speaks and the groups gather more closely together. But from each one
  of them, during her words, certain individuals detach themselves and
  move hesitantly until they stand about Hamilton’s feet._]

FREEDOM

  Will you hear me, People?
  I understand you, People, as none other can,
  I serve you, People, as none other can;
  I tell you, here is your proving time.
  I bid you cast envy out from your hearts.
  For none will work you injustice, now, save only yourselves,
  And no folly will lead you astray now, but your own folly,
  Therefore, bestir you, People!
  You may not deny your leaders or your cause or me!
  You cannot, People, for we are your life!

HAMILTON

(_To Freedom._)

Tell them this Convention shall never rise until the Constitution is
adopted!

FREEDOM

  Marvelous Boy,
  Do you speak, now.

HAMILTON

(_Swinging to the people._)

Here, my countrymen, let us make a firm stand for our safety, our
tranquillity, our dignity, our reputation. It belongs to us to
vindicate the honor of the human race. Union will enable us to do
it.... The necessity of a constitution is imminent. A nation without a
national government is an awful spectacle. Why, then, do you hesitate?
The fabric of American empire ought to rest on the solid basis of
the consent of the people. The stream of national power ought to
flow immediately from that pure original fountain of all legitimate
authority. Let the thirteen states, bound together in an indissoluble
union, concur in erecting one great American system, consecrated to
the steady administration of the laws, dedicated to the protection of
liberty against the enterprises and assaults of ambition, of faction,
of anarchy, able to dictate the terms of connection between the old
world and the new!

  [_Gradually as he spoke, the groups have merged, slowly and
  diffidently, but surely. At the end they stand all together about his
  feet, looking up into his face. And the music crashes superbly out
  and light blazes upon the Spokesmen. And, as they begin to speak, the
  crowd joins hands and lifts linked arms high, as if to take an oath._]

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN AND FOUR VOICES

We, the people of the United States....

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN AND EIGHT VOICES

In order to form a more perfect union...

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN AND TWELVE VOICES

Establish justice...

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN AND SIXTEEN VOICES

Ensure domestic tranquillity...

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN AND TWENTY VOICES

Provide for the common defense...

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN AND TWENTY-FOUR VOICES

Promote the general welfare...

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN AND TWENTY-EIGHT VOICES

And secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity...

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN AND FULL CHOIR

Do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of
America.

  [_The triumphant music again and a shout of joy from all the people
  and Freedom lifts grateful hands to heaven._]

FOUR VOICES OF THE CHOIR

(_Intoning upon a high note._)

No law respecting an established religion or prohibiting the free
exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech or of the press;
or the right of the people peaceably to assemble and to petition the
government for a redress of grievance.

THE FULL CHOIR

(_Sotto voce upon a higher note._)

Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseparable!

FREEDOM

We here highly resolve that government of the people, by the people,
for the people shall not perish from the earth.

  [_Then the music bursts forth again and the first president is
  inaugurated. The scene is best described in the words of Lear’s
  diary. “All the churches in the city were opened and prayers offered
  up to the Great Ruler of the Universe for the preservation of the
  President. The troops of the city paraded.... The procession moved
  forward, the troops marching in front with all the ensigns of
  military parade. Next came the committees and heads of departments
  in their carriages, the foreign ministers and a long train of
  citizens.... About two hundred yards before we reached the hall
  we descended from our carriages and passed through the troops who
  were drawn up on either side, into the hall and the Senate Chamber
  where we found the Vice-President and the House of Representatives
  assembled. They received the President in a most respectful manner
  and the Vice-President conducted him to a balcony. The oath was
  administered in public by Chancellor Livingstone who proclaimed him
  President of the United States.”_]

WASHINGTON

My station is new. I walk on untrodden ground. With God’s help, I
readily engage with you in the task of making a nation happy.

THE PEOPLE

God save our Washington! Long live our beloved President!

  [_The celebration of Washington’s inauguration is then enacted with
  a torchlight procession, lanterns and transparencies and the frantic
  joy of the crowd and much singing of “Yankee Doodle.”_

  _The scene darkens with the dying of the jubilation._

  _The Chronicler rises._]

THE CHRONICLER

The eight years of administration pass. The faith of the people again
grows cold. New voices speak flattery and falsehood and sow the seed of
disaster to come. But the leaders are steadfast, always, and, even in
farewell, the end of their leadership is wisdom.

  [_The only light, now, shines upon the group of Freedom, Washington
  and Hamilton. The people stand, in the shadow, absolutely still and
  unresponsive._]

WASHINGTON

The time has come for me to return to retirement. Choice and prudence
invite me to quit the scene. But a solicitude for your welfare which
cannot end but with my life prompts me to offer to your solemn
contemplation some sentiments which appear to me all important to the
permanency of your felicity as a people.

FREEDOM

This is the warning word.

WASHINGTON

The power and right to establish government presuppose the duty to obey
government. Providence connects the permanent felicity of a nation with
its virtue. Avoid the necessity of overgrown military establishments!
Be warned against the baneful effects of the spirit of party! Promote
institutions for the general diffusion of knowledge. Observe good
faith and justice toward all nations. Cultivate peace and harmony with
all. It is folly for one nation to look for disinterested favors from
another. It is our true policy to steer clear of permanent alliances
with any portion of the foreign world.

THE CHRONICLER

The counsel is spoken. The farewell remains.

WASHINGTON

I shall carry with me the hope that my country will never cease to
view my errors with indulgence and that, after forty-five years of
my life dedicated to its service with an upright zeal, the faults of
incompetent abilities will be consigned to oblivion as myself must soon
be to the mansions of rest.

  [_There is an instant of silence. Then Freedom puts her hands on the
  shoulders of Washington and Hamilton and looks into their eyes and
  the distant Chorus sings._]

THE CHORUS

  And in regions far
      Such heroes bring ye forth
          As those from whom we came
          And plant our name
  Under that star
      Not known unto our north.

FREEDOM

(_Speaking above the Chorus._)

  Ever and ever more,
  Under the western stars,
  Over the western lands,
  My leaders,
  Your names,
  Your words,
  Your dreams!

  [_She turns with the two men and goes a few steps with them into the
  darkness above them. Then they go up and she is last seen looking
  after them. Darkness takes the entire scene._]

THE CHORUS

  And in regions far,
      Such heroes bring ye forth,
          As those from whom we came....




_Part Three_

[Illustration]

“_Social Freedom_”


THE CHRONICLER

The nation being established conceives the empire. The race, born of
the romance of empire and nourished upon the adventure of freedom,
turns to the wilderness.

THE CHOIR

Pioneers! O Pioneers!

THE CHRONICLER

Beyond these eastern mountains, the adventure of freedom is resumed,
and the romance of empire lives anew!

THE CHOIR

Pioneers! O Pioneers!

  [_Freedom turns at the shout and the music begins a soft, wild
  march theme. Suddenly possessed again, Freedom evokes the Western
  migration. As she begins to speak the first of it begins: a few
  timorous stragglers who appear from the trees at the left of the
  stage and peer up at her. Her gestures sweep them across the scene
  and they come, stopping here and there to build their camp fires. At
  the end of her harangue, five or six groups have spaced themselves
  along the line of the forestage, and from each group and its camp
  fire rises a thin column of smoke so that the varied and splendid
  processional of adventure which is to come will be seen behind this
  delicate colonnade._]

FREEDOM

  Out of the east,
  Into the west,
  A vision of empire, my people,
  A vision of rivers and prairies,
  Of western mountains and a western ocean.
  And of a wider Freedom!
  New cities sleep unborn
  On the shores of the lakes and the rivers,
  Cities to be erected
  In a loftier image of Freedom,
  Cities, whence new generations,
  Forgetful of all save courage,
  Shall in their turn set out
  Into further western regions,
  Building cities and cities,
  Building always for Freedom,
  Building, renewing, creating....
  Westward, westward, and westward,
  Over the walls of the mountains,
  Over the blight of the desert,
  To the urgent, star-scattered horizon,
  Where the stars and the sun and the moon
  Rise into the wind and the heavens,
  Out of the western ocean,
  Out of the west and the east,
  People, my people, set forward,
  For Freedom! For Freedom! For Freedom!

THE CHOIR

(_Shouting._)

Pioneers! O Pioneers!

  [_With this, the musical accompaniment to Freedom’s words resolves
  itself into a triumphal march and the full bulk of the procession
  appears crossing from left to right of the stage. First are small
  wagons, so light you might almost carry them, as Birkbeck said of
  them, “yet strong enough to bear a good load of bedding, utensils and
  provisions and a swarm of young citizens.” Others have two horses
  and, sometimes, a cow or so. Other wagons are covered with canvas
  and blankets. There are Conestoga wagons and prairie schooners with
  herds of stock and sheep and the crowd of emigrants is gaily dressed
  as any gang of gipsies, red-shirted men, blue and yellow-skirted
  women, bright clothes for the children and bright blankets. And
  a great light grows up on the right of the stage into which this
  procession moves and all the while the circuit riders and hunters
  scatter through the crowd on their respective, mimed businesses. At
  the same time, shouting over the music, the two Spokesmen and the
  Choir have maintained a steady crescendo comment from the “Pioneers,
  O Pioneers!” of Walt Whitman._]

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

(_With the end of Freedom’s speech._)

            Come, my tan-faced children,
  Follow well in order, get your weapons ready,
  Have you your pistols, have you your sharp-edged axes?
            Pioneers!

THE CHOIR

O Pioneers!

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

          Have the elder races halted?
  Do they droop and end their lesson wearied over there beyond the seas?
  We take up the task eternal and the burden and the lesson,
          Pioneers!

THE CHOIR

O Pioneers!

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

          All the past we leave behind,
  We debouch upon a newer, mightier world, varied world,
  Fresh and strong the world we seize, world of labor and the march,
          Pioneers!

THE CHOIR

O Pioneers!

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

          We detachments steady throwing,
  Down the edges, through the passes, up the mountains steep,
  Conquering, holding, daring, venturing as we go the unknown ways,
          Pioneers!

THE CHOIR

O Pioneers!

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

          We primeval forests felling,
  We the rivers stemming, vexing we and piercing the deep mines within,
  We the surface broad surveying, we the virgin soil upheaving,
          Pioneers!

THE CHOIR

O Pioneers!

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

          All the pulses of the world,
  Falling in they beat for us, with the Western movement beat,
  Holding single or together, steady moving to the front, all for us,
          Pioneers!

THE CHOIR

O Pioneers!

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

          Has the night descended?
  Was the road of late so toilsome? Did we stop discouraged, nodding on
    our way?
  Yet a passing hour I yield you in your tracks to pause oblivious,
          Pioneers!

THE CHOIR

O Pioneers!

FREEDOM

          Till with sound of trumpet,
  Far, far off the daybreak call--hark! how loud I hear it wind,
  Swift! to the head of the army!--swift! spring to your places,
          Pioneers!

THE CHOIR

O Pioneers!

  [_At the final shout of the Choir, the western light turns suddenly
  bloody and the procession hurries off into murk and portent. At the
  same time a new light breaks over the forestage upon a sinister line
  of men which has come in between the thrones of the two Spokesmen._

  _These men are negroes, naked, save for loin cloths and girdles,
  twenty-one in number, and all singers. The hands of each one are
  chained to the girdle of the one behind and they move up the slope
  toward Freedom in a slow, melancholy “V.”_

  _As they move, they sing. Their song should, indeed, have scattered
  the echoes of the farewell acclamation of the pioneers. The strain
  of it is despair that takes refuge in worship. It is one of the old
  spirituals, “Go Down Moses.” They move, singing, up to Freedom and
  she comes sorrowfully down to meet them and the Chronicler rises._

  _As the negroes finish their song, they kneel at Freedom’s feet and
  she bends over them._]

FREEDOM

While you suffer, I am nothing.

THE CHRONICLER

  The trial of the race comes with the attainment of its empire.
  In the west the factions meet already and the issue is the slave.

FREEDOM

  God alone knows the end
  Yet God understands!

  [_The Chronicler sits and a blare of madness comes upon the music and
  a new group is upon the forestage. The center of this is an old man,
  white bearded, with a bloody head and a halter about his neck. Other
  figures stand about a gibbet. The music subsides softly into “John
  Brown’s Body” and continues to weave variations upon this until the
  final moment when the chorus of Union Soldiers takes it up. In the
  meanwhile, this old man, John Brown, speaks._]

JOHN BROWN

I, John Brown, am now quite certain that the crimes of this land will
never be purged away but with blood. For God has given the strength of
the hills to Freedom. No man sent me here. I acknowledge no master in
human form. I pity the poor in bondage that have none to help them.
That is why I am here. You may dispose of me very easily. I am nearly
disposed of now. But this negro question is still to be settled. The
end of that is not yet. I am ready. Do not keep me waiting. In no other
possible way could I be used to so much advantage to the cause of God
and of humanity.

  [_He moves toward the gibbet and the scene goes into darkness with
  the pounding of a drum._]

FOUR VOICES

A house divided against itself cannot stand.

  [_A pause and the drum again, tapped twice._]

EIGHT VOICES

(_Upon a higher note._)

This government cannot endure permanently half slave and half free.

  [_Then light upon Freedom._]

FREEDOM

(_The light only upon her face._)

  The day attends the sun and the event
  Attends the purpose of a steadfast mind.
  Always in all upheaval man must find
  The purpose of a master’s government.

  Now in the darkling of calamity,
  The purpose and the character of one
  Called to a generation’s mastery
  Come as the sun,

  Come and are known and spend
  Their powers hardily,
  And, in the end,
  Leave to the issue clarity again,
  And wisdom to the memories of men.

  [_The light spreading about her discloses the figure of Abraham
  Lincoln standing at her feet. People gather at the sides of the
  stage._]

THE CHOIR

Lincoln ... Lincoln ... Lincoln....

LINCOLN

In your hands, my dissatisfied fellow countrymen, and not in mine is
the momentous issue of civil war. The government will not assail you.
You can have no conflict without being yourselves the aggressors. You
have no oath registered in heaven to destroy the government, while I
shall have the most solemn one to preserve, protect and defend it.

THE PEOPLE

(_Crescendo._)

Lincoln ... Lincoln ... Lincoln....

  [_Freedom bends her head upon Lincoln. The negroes look up to him.
  The people come a little closer, moving restlessly among themselves
  with disturbed, though soundless, gestures._]

LINCOLN

I would save the Union.... If there be those who would not save the
Union unless they could, at the same time, save slavery, I do not agree
with them. If there be those who would not save the Union unless they
could, at the same time, destroy slavery, I do not agree with them. If
I could save the Union without freeing any slave, I would do it; and
if I could save it by freeing all the slaves, I would do it; and if I
could save it by freeing some and leaving others alone, I would also do
that.

  [_Suddenly, as Lincoln’s voice concludes, the people divide
  impetuously, and draw back, in two great bodies, to either side of
  the stage._

  _A cannon crashes out and all the people are aghast._

  _Darkness obscures the two multitudes and the Spokesmen, in the
  light, strike antiphonally into the beautiful words which Mr. John
  Drinkwater wrote for the characters in his play, “Robert E. Lee.”_]

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

The strain comes and men’s wits break under it and fighting is the only
way out.

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

War is the anger of bewildered peoples in front of questions that they
can’t answer.

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

The quarrel is so little beside the desolation that is coming.

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

One year ... two ... three ... perhaps four! Then there will be just
graves and a story and America.

  [_Suddenly a pool of bloody light explodes upon the right of the
  stage and shows a knoll of gray uniforms about the flag of the
  Confederacy and the men in the light burst into the wild abandon of
  “Dixie.”_

  _Then another pool of bloody light shows blue uniforms and the men
  and all the Chorus behind sing “John Brown’s Body” again, full voice._

  _Then the light upon Lincoln is white and includes the group of
  slaves and the figure of Freedom._]

LINCOLN

All persons held as slaves are and, henceforward, shall be free. And
upon this act, sincerely believed to be an act of justice, I invoke the
considerate judgment of mankind and the gracious favor of Almighty God.

  [_His hands bless the negroes and all the people look gratefully up
  to him and the armies turn their heads toward him._

  _Two figures detach themselves from the two armies. One is Grant. The
  other is Lee. They walk toward each other and the armies fall back in
  great weariness. When they meet, the two generals speak._]

GRANT

Sir, you have given me occasion to be proud of my opponent.

LEE

I have not spared my strength. I acknowledge its defeat.

GRANT

You have come--

LEE

To ask upon what terms you will accept surrender.

GRANT

(_Presents a slip of paper._)

They are simple. I hope you will not find them ungenerous.

LEE

(_Having read them._)

You are magnanimous, sir. May I make one submission?

GRANT

It would be a privilege if I could consider it.

LEE

You allow our officers to keep their horses. That is gracious. Our
cavalry troopers’ horses are also their own.

GRANT

I understand. They will be needed for the plowing. Of course, the
officers of the Confederacy will also retain their side arms.

LEE

I thank you. It will do much toward conciliating our people. I accept
your terms.

  [_He offers his sword._]

GRANT

No, no! I should have included that. It has but one rightful place.

  [_They salute and each returns to his army._]

LEE

(_Speaking the close of Lee’s final orders._)

Valor and devotion can accomplish nothing that will compensate for the
loss that must attend the continuance of the conflict. You may take
with you the satisfaction of duty faithfully performed, and I earnestly
pray that a merciful God will extend to you his blessing and protection.

GRANT

(_Speaking the close of Grant’s last message._)

All that it was possible for men to do in battle they have done. Let
us hope for perpetual peace and harmony with that enemy whose manhood,
however mistaken the cause, drew forth such Herculean deeds of valor.

  [_The bloody light fades and the two armies spread out into the
  crowds which now slowly close in._]

LINCOLN

With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the
right as God gives us to see the right; let us strive on to finish
the work we are in; to bind up the nation’s wounds; to care for him
who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow and his orphan--to
do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among
ourselves and with all nations.

  [_The darkness has gradually closed in upon the scene except for
  Freedom’s face._

  _A great toll of the kettledrums and a voice of a man that cries out
  desperately in the darkness._]

THE VOICE

Sic semper tyrannis!

  [_The answer is a wail of women._]

A SECOND VOICE

(_Again a man’s; more calm and tragic._)

Now he belongs to the ages.

  [_Again the wail of women._]

FREEDOM

O Lincoln! Lincoln! Lincoln!

  [_With this, a shaft of light strikes the stair and shows Freedom
  bending over a bier upon which Lincoln lies dead._

  _A great cry of mourning rises from the crowd, both men and women._

  _The Choir comments, speaking Walt Whitman’s verse and noble words._]

THE CHOIR

  This dust was once the man,
  Gentle, plain, just and resolute, under whose cautious hand,
  Against the foulest crime in history known in any land or age,
  Was saved the Union of these States.

  [_Gradually, during these lines, a cold light has spread over the
  mourning multitude. Every vestige of war is gone. The people stand
  with drooping heads facing the stair, every hand holding a spray
  of lilac. The freed negroes kneel about the lower steps. A funeral
  march, gentle as a song of spring, begins. Men lift up the bier
  and carry it up the steps to the second landing. Freedom leads the
  cortege; the girls come after. The crowd closes in. At the second
  landing, the bier is set down and all the people go past it, filing
  out into the darkness which closes in again upon either side. In the
  meanwhile, over the music, Freedom and the two Spokesmen speak from
  Walt Whitman’s great song of mourning._]

FREEDOM

  When lilacs last in the dooryard bloom’d,
  And the great star early droop’d in the western sky in the night,
  I mourned and yet shall mourn with ever-returning spring.
  O powerful western fallen star!
  O shades of night--O moody, tearful night!
  O great star disappear’d--O the black murk that hides the star!
  O cruel hands that hold me powerless--O helpless soul of me!
  O harsh surrounding cloud that will not free my soul.

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

  Over the breast of the spring, the land, amid cities,
  Amid lanes and through old woods, where lately the violets peep’d from
    the ground, spotting the gray debris,
  Amid the grass in the fields each side of the lanes, passing the
    endless grass,
  Passing the yellow spear’d wheat, every grain from its shroud in the
    dark-brown fields uprisen.
  Passing the apple tree blows of white and pink in the orchards,
  Carrying a corpse to where it shall rest in the grave,
  Night and day journeys a coffin.

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

  Coffin that passes through lanes and streets,
  Through day and night with the great cloud darkening the land,
  With the pomp of the inloop’d flags, with the cities draped in
    black,
  With the show of the states themselves as of crape-veil’d women
    standing,
  With processions long and winding and the flambeaus of the night,
  With the countless torches lit, with the silent sea of faces and
    unbared heads....
  Here, coffin that slowly passes,
  I give you my sprig of lilac.

FOUR VOICES

  From the deep secluded recesses,
  From the fragrant cedars and the ghostly pines so still,
  Came the carol of a bird.

FREEDOM

  Come lovely and soothing death,
  Undulate round the world, serenely arriving, arriving,
  In the day, in the night, to all, to each,
  Sooner or later, delicate death.

  Prais’d be the fathomless universe,
  For life and joy, and for objects and knowledge curious,
  And for love, sweet love--but praise! praise! praise!
  For the sure-enwinding arms of cool-enfolding death.

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

  The night in silence under many a star,
  The ocean shore and the husky whispering wave whose voice I know,
  And the soul turning to thee, O base and well-veil’d death,
  And the body gratefully nestling close to thee.

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

  Over the tree tops I float thee a song,
  Over the rising and sinking waves and the myriad fields and the
    prairies wide,
  Over the dense pack’d cities all and the teeming wharves and ways,
  I float this carol with joy, with joy to thee, O death.

FOUR VOICES

  Loud in the pines and cedars dim,
  Clear in the freshness moist and the swamp-perfume,
  And I with my comrades there in the night.

FREEDOM

  Comrades mine and I in the midst, and their memory ever to keep, for
    the dead I loved so well,
  For the sweetest, wisest soul of all my days and lands--and this for
    his dear sake,
  Lilac and star and bird twined with the chant of my soul,
  There in the fragrant pines and the cedars dusk and dim.

THE CHOIR AND ALL THE PEOPLE

(_Very softly._)

That government of the people, by the people, for the people shall not
perish from the earth.

  [_The light goes again. The crowd goes off. The bier is carried away
  under cover of the darkness and to the far sound of the negroes who
  sing the same song which first we heard from them._]




_Part Four_

[Illustration]

“_Our Own Day_”


  [_The Chronicler rises in light._]

THE CHRONICLER

Death that takes Lincoln spares him the disillusion and the time of
waste that comes after him. The face of Freedom is covered and she
turns her gaze away from the land.

THE CHOIR

(_Fortissimo_)

  Allons! Through struggles and wars!
  The goal that was named cannot be countermanded.

FOUR VOICES

We found our own, O my Soul, in the calm and cool of the daybreak.

  [_The beginnings of light upon the scene show Freedom weeping upon
  her balustrade, alone on the stair between the two halves of the
  Choir._

  _In the distance the Chorus begins to sing that great chantey of
  American labor, “I’ve been working on the Railroad.”_

  _At the back of the stage, just below the beginning of the stair, is
  a pathway of light into which, from either side of the scene, come
  single lines of men who bear upon their shoulders rails and ties.
  Across the stage they build the transcontinental railroad, forming
  sculptural and beautiful groups as they bend over the joints of
  the rails and swing their sledges. When the task is completed, the
  headlights of engines shine along the lines._

  _Whereupon two wedges of laborers emerge from the sides of the scene,
  lower down on the incline of the stage and stand in pools of flame.
  That on the right is the group of steel workers. That on the left is
  the group of coal miners._

  _Whereupon, still lower down stage, two other wedges emerge,
  similarly dressed and lighted. They are the groups of farmers and of
  builders. Whereupon the forestage is filled with women and children
  of a most sorrowful and wretched aspect and with little old men,
  poorly dressed and meek of manner._

  _All of this movement has been executed to the great march of
  labor which is built upon the theme of “I’ve been working on the
  Railroad.” The band has taken it up from the Chorus and woven it
  into a minor dirge and into bizarre dissonances and elaborated it
  with syncopations and new themes played upon strange instruments and
  sung by the voices of the Chorus so that the whole thing is at once
  triumphal and macabre. It rises to magnificent climaxes and subsides
  again so that the speakers, the crowds, the Choir and the Spokesmen
  may be clearly audible._

  _At the same time the Spokesmen and the Choir speak antiphonally
  against the action and complete the prophecy of Walt Whitman._]

EIGHT VOICES

The shapes arise!

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

Shapes of factories, arsenals, foundries, markets!

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

Shapes of the two threaded tracks of railroads!

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

Shapes of the sleepers of bridges, vast frameworks, girders, arches!

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

Shapes of the fleets of barges, tows, lake and canal craft, river craft!

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

Shipyards and drydocks along the eastern and western seas and in many a
bay and by-place!

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

The ships themselves on their ways, the tiers of scaffolds, the workmen.

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

The shape of the family home, the home of the friendly parents and
children.

FULL CHOIR

The shapes arise!

FOUR VOICES

Shapes of Democracy, total, result of centuries!

EIGHT VOICES

Shapes ever projecting other shapes!

TWELVE VOICES

Shapes of turbulent manly cities!

TWENTY VOICES

Shapes of friends and home givers to the whole earth!

FULL CHOIR

Shapes bracing the earth and braced with the whole earth!

FOUR VOICES

  In the labor of engines and trades and the labor of fields
    I find the developments
  And find the eternal meanings....

THE RAILROAD BUILDERS

  O Freedom, in your name,
  We have built a railroad across a continent
  And linked the east and the west with strips of steel;
  We have worked, Freedom, for the empire which is yours,
  For that which is not yours is nothing.

  [_Freedom lifts her head and listens._]

THE STEEL WORKERS

  Steel! Steel! Steel!
  Flame and smoke and blood!
  We have pounded with our fists, Freedom,
  And forged with our hearts,
  And our bodies have fed the furnaces,
  That your empire, Freedom, might endure in steel
  Over the land and upon the seas.

  [_Freedom listens still but gives no sign._]

THE COAL MINERS

  Though we died in the depths of the earth, we have given coal,
    Freedom, in your name.
  Though we had many masters, we owned no rule but yours,
  For that is vain which is not done for Freedom.

THE FARMERS

  In your name, Freedom,
  We have cleared forests and made deserts bloom
  And covered the states with corn and wheat and herds,
  And suffered droughts and storms, Freedom,
  That yours might be a great empire.

THE BUILDERS

  Freedom, we have built the fences of your farmers and the roofs of
    your cities,
  We have made machines of your empire, Freedom, and we have built our
    lives into its structure,
  For you, Freedom, only for you.

THE WOMEN AND CHILDREN

  We have given, Freedom, in your hands, our youth and our health and
    our beauty
  In the fields, and the factories of your empire, Freedom, we have
    given all that we had to give,
  Holding always to our faith in you.

THE MEEK MEN

  Durably, without complaint, day after day,
  We have filled the little tasks of your empire, Freedom,
  Performed little duties and earned little wages,
  Without complaining, without understanding,
  Save that we worked in your name.

THE WHOLE CROWD

Reward us, Freedom!

THE CHOIR

  Workmen and Workwomen!
  I do not affirm that what you see beyond is futile ...
  I do not say leading you, thought great are not great ...
  But I say that none lead to greater than these lead to.

THE WHOLE CROWD

Reward us, Freedom!

  [_With one accord the whole crowd turns and lifts its hands to
  Freedom. A sudden hush comes and the light on the crowd begins to
  pale._]

FOUR VOICES

We found our own, O my Soul, in the calm and cool of the daybreak.

THE CHRONICLER

The word is Roosevelt’s.

  [_The crowd turns towards the audience and listens as the Spokesmen
  speak words of Roosevelt’s._]

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

No nation great as ours can escape the penalty of greatness. Ours is a
government of liberty by, through and under the law.

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

No man is above it and no man is below it.

EIGHT VOICES

  We found our own, O my Soul, in the calm and cool of the daybreak.

THE CHRONICLER

The word is Wilson’s.

THE FIRST SPOKESMAN

There has been something crude and heartless and unfeeling in our haste
to succeed and be great.

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN

The great government we loved has too often been made use of for
private and selfish purposes and those who used it had forgotten the
people.

  [_Through all this the music has progressed sometimes tempestuously,
  sometimes lyrically. Now it becomes swiftly and terribly sinister
  and, behind Freedom, where she sits immobile upon her throne,
  flashes of light, bloody and flaming, run along the balustrade of
  the uppermost level and the eyes of the people are turned fearfully
  upwards. Freedom does not move._]

THE CHRONICLER

The world is filled with dread and a great war wages but still Freedom
holds aloof from her people, for this war is not waged in her name
until the prophet, speaking, gives it meaning.

THE FULL CHOIR

  Allons, through struggles and wars!
  The goal that was named cannot be countermanded.

THE CHRONICLER

Again, the word is Wilson’s.

  [_Freedom rises._

  _The lurid terrace shifts and swarms with figures seen through smoke.
  Now a new army of olive drab bursts up over the crest and the next
  lines are shouted by the Choir over a wild pantomime of battle._]

FIRST SPOKESMAN AND EIGHT VOICES

We are glad now to fight thus for the ultimate peace of the world and
for the liberation of its peoples.

THE SECOND SPOKESMAN AND SIXTEEN VOICES

The world must be made safe for democracy.

FREEDOM AND FOUR VOICES

To such a task we can dedicate our lives and our fortunes, everything
that we are and everything that we have, with the pride of those who
know that the day is come when America is privileged to spend her blood
and her might for the principles that gave her birth and happiness and
the peace which she has treasured.

THE WHOLE CHOIR

God helping her, she can do no other!

  [_A great frenzy of enthusiasm takes the crowd and the music lifts
  itself into a supreme climax. But Freedom’s two arms go up for
  silence and the four Voices are heard again, the words of Carl
  Sandburg._]

EIGHT VOICES

(_Intoning upon a high wild note._)

  Smash down the cities,
  Knock the walls to pieces.
  Break the factories and cathedrals, warehouses and homes
  Into loose piles of stone and lumber and black burnt wood:
  You are the soldiers and we command you.

  [_The light dies upon the uppermost terrace and increases upon the
  crowd._]

FOUR OTHER VOICES

  Build up the cities.
  Set up the walls again.
  Put together once more the factories and cathedrals, warehouses and
    homes
  Into buildings for life and labor;
  You are the workmen and citizens all: We command you.

  [_Again Freedom’s face falls. She comes disconsolately down the
  stair._]

THE PEOPLE

Ah!

FOUR OTHER VOICES

(_Again from Sandburg._)

  Make us one new dream, us who forgot,
  Out of the storm let us have one star.

  [_She stops and looks mournfully down upon them, all the people, and
  shakes her head._

  _Whereupon, the music going mad again, the people begin all to move
  and shift about in little, futile designs and, at the same time, on
  Freedom’s left, a cone of men shoot acrobatically up. There are not
  more than a dozen figures in it. They wear hot purples and outrageous
  masks and speak in unison._]

THE CONE

  You people,
  What are you to Freedom?
  What is Freedom to you?
  You have no rights, but only duties.
  Produce!
  Faster and faster.
  Harder and harder.
  It doesn’t matter
  How tired you are.
  Produce, do you hear?

  [_Whereupon a second cone shoots up on Freedom’s right. It is exactly
  like the first except that the men in it are dressed in dirty red and
  orange._]

THE SECOND CONE

  You people!
  Stand up for your rights!
  To hell with your duties!
  Do you want Freedom?
  Well, then, organize!
  Wealth is labor!
  Property is labor!
  Capital is labor!
  Organize!


  [_Whereupon a third cone shoots up at Freedom’s very feet, a cone all
  of black with senatorial hats topping the masked faces._]

THE THIRD CONE

  You people!
  Forget about freedom!
  Government’s government.
  Republican. Democrat.
  Right or wrong,
  My country still!
  The Constitution,
  Wonderful instrument!
  Land of the Free
  And the home of the Brave!
  Politics. Politics.
  Don’t forget Washington,
  Lincoln or Hamilton.
  What did they tell you?
  Worship the government.

  [_The three cones disappear as magically as they appeared and, in
  their place about Freedom’s feet, is a fan of scarlet figures._]

THE FAN

  You masses! You masses! You masses!
  Do you know your power?
  Do you know your meaning?
  Do you know what you can do?
  We’re Freedom.
  We’re Russia!
  We’re God!
  Awake masses!
  You are the state!
  You are the world!
  You are the universe!
  Take what is yours.

  [_All this while the people, to swifter and swifter music, always
  more and more macabre and dissonant, have moved ever and ever more
  swiftly. Now the music comes back to a horrible parody of “I’ve been
  working on the Railroad” and the movement takes shape in designs and
  formal groups, large and small. And the men who made up three cones
  and the fan surge over the stair and drag Freedom down so that she is
  lost in the whirling mob. And the light, broken and colorful, dies to
  gloom and the movement is a movement of patterns and the music drowns
  all, singing and instrumental. Then, just at the front of the stage,
  just above the throne of the Chronicler, a single ray of white light
  breaks upon Freedom again and, along the upper level, the light once
  more lifts, and as Freedom begins to speak, it seems to be daybreak._]

FREEDOM

Lost! Lost! Lost!

  [_The desperate cry pierces all the tumult and brings complete
  silence upon the scene._]

  O People, my People, my People,
  Where are your wits and your hearts and your souls?
  What have you done with the destiny I left you?
  Fools! Fools! Fools!

  [_A stricken sigh goes up from the people and those about Freedom
  fall upon their knees._]

  Man does not seek the dream that is not his,
  Nor dream the search to which he was not destined,
  Nor hope for that which he does not believe.
  Who would be free is free;
  Who would be otherwise is otherwise.
  Ever man is himself man’s enemy;
  Ever man’s fear to be himself shall be
  Between man and man’s liberty.

  [_A murmur goes up from the people. She looks sorrowfully and
  majestically over them._]

  Soldiers of Freedom!
  Comrades of Freedom!
  Brothers of Freedom!
  Children of Freedom!
  Not slaves, but men!
  Not sheep, but men!
  Not masses, but men!

  I cannot set you free who were born free.
  Nor strike your shackles off who were born slaves.
  Be to yourselves yourselves, the rest is glory.

  [_A louder murmur and many of the crowd lift their hands to her._]

  Workmen and workwomen!
  Children and aged!
  You were born of the past!
  You are pledged to the future.

  [_She goes a little up among the kneeling crowd._]

  Soldiers of Freedom,
  Comrades of Freedom,
  Brothers of Freedom,
  You! You! And You!
  I lead again! I live again! I love!
  Who dares to follow now!
  Who comes beside me, bravely and alone,
  Not one of masses, but as man alone?
  What, none?
  Are you all masses, then?

  [_Some of them come eagerly up to her._]

  You, have you faith?
  You, are you honest?
  You, is your spirit strong?
  You, can you face the sun?
  Why then, come on!
  Come on! On! On!
  I lead--Come on! Come on!

  [_She plunges up the slope toward the light, her own refulgence
  illuminating those who come immediately after her. The music reaches
  its wildest and highest point as the crowds falling in widely behind
  her, begins to ascend the slope. Freedom is seen to pause and wave
  the crowd on and a great cone of humanity moves up the stair. Then
  the music stops upon a tremendous major resolution and Freedom is
  standing at the top of the stair at last and all the people, their
  arms reached upwards to her, are spread out below and the light is
  blinding. The music gives way to a rolling of drums and from the
  hills come crazy voices invoked by the wild cries and the wilder arms
  of Freedom most transfigured, most blazing of all._]

FREEDOM

Soldiers of Freedom out of the past of the race, huzza!

A VOICE

(_Screaming wildly._)

Don’t shoot till you see the whites of their eyes!

FREEDOM

Again!

ANOTHER VOICE

(_Wilder and from a different position._)

If they mean to have a war let it begin here!

FREEDOM

Again!

ANOTHER VOICE

Trust in God and keep your powder dry!

ANOTHER VOICE

We have not yet begun to fight!

  [_Now rockets are bursting in the air, gorgeous beautiful rockets._]

FREEDOM

Brothers of Freedom, out of the past of the race, your songs!

SEVERAL VOICES

(_Singing wildly._)

  Yankee Doodle came to town,
  Riding on a pony,
  Stuck a feather in his hat
  And called it macaroni!
  Yankee Doodle....

OTHER VOICES

I’ll fight it out on this line if it takes all summer! Give me
liberty or give me death! Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and
inseparable! Millions for defense but not one cent for tribute! A war
to end war! Don’t give up the ship! Lafayette, here we are! Too proud
to fight! In the name of the great Jehovah and the Continental Congress!

OTHER VOICES

  John Brown’s body lies a moulding in the grave,
  John Brown’s body lies a moulding in the grave,
  John Brown’s body lies a moulding in the grave,
  But his soul goes marching on!
  Glory, glory, hallelujah!
  Glory, glory....

OTHER VOICES

  Way down south in the land of cotton,
  Cinnamon seed and sandy bottom,
  Look away, look away, look away, look away!
  That’s the land where I was born in....

OTHER VOICES

Over there! Over there! Over there! Over there! Over there! The Yanks
are coming....

  [_By this the light has gone from the people and shines only upon
  Freedom who turns and holds her hands out over all the multitude. A
  terrific flight of rockets bursts with a terrific explosion. Then
  there is absolute silence._]

FREEDOM

(_Coming through the crowds, back down the stair._)

  Children of Freedom,
  Out of the mind of God,
  Hear ye the truth--
  Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees!...
  Can ye grow grapes from thorns or figs from thistles?
  What man, by taking thought, can add a cubit to his stature?
  Woe unto you, Scribes and Pharisees!
  To him that hath shall be given. From him that hath not shall be taken
    away even that which he hath....
  Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth....
  Seek and ye shall find....

  [_With each line of the words of Jesus she has come a little further
  down the stair. At the last, she stands above the Chronicler’s throne
  and, on either side of her, two youths kneel, who have followed her
  down from the Choir. When she has come to the bottom of the slope
  and when the darkness has taken all else but her figure, she turns
  her back upon the audience and her hands go out as though she evoked
  one further image out of the past. We see it, as light scatters the
  darkness above her--the Common of Lexington in the cold dawn of the
  Glorious Morning and the line of Minute Men drawn up across it. The
  Chronicler rises._]

THE CHRONICLER

One hundred and fifty years ago there was fought upon this place a
battle. Out of that battle came a nation and a nation’s race and a
race’s vision of freedom.

  [_Then the four boys from the Choir speak together as the light
  goes._]

THE FOUR BOYS

The world will little note nor long remember what we say here, but
it can never forget what they did here. It is for us, the living,
rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who
fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be
here dedicated to the great task remaining before us--that from these
honored dead we take increased devotion; that we here highly resolve
that these dead shall not have died in vain; that this nation, under
God, shall have a new birth of Freedom; and that government of the
people, by the people, for the people shall not perish from the earth.

  [_The darkness is now complete. The Chronicler has closed his book.
  In the hills, a bugle blows taps. The play is finished._]




_The citizens of Lexington, the Birthplace of American Liberty,
realizing they are custodians of America’s greatest shrine, extend a
welcome to_ EVERYONE, _not only on the 19th of April and Pageant Week,
June 15th to 20th, 1925_, BUT EVERY DAY OF THE YEAR, _to visit our
battlefield, the historic buildings, and at all times to feel at home.
This historic spot belongs to the Nation, and we want all Americans to
feel they are part owners so that on leaving the town they may have a
better realization of the struggles made by our forefathers and become
better and more patriotic citizens._




_Publications for Sale by the Lexington Historical Society_


“The Battle of April 19, 1775, in Lexington, Concord, Lincoln,
Arlington, Cambridge, Somerville and Charlestown.” New Edition, 1922.
By Frank Warren Coburn. Illustrated. 200 pp. Price $1.75.

“The Battle on Lexington Common, April 19, 1775,” a paper read before
the Lexington Historical Society, December 12, 1916, by Frank Warren
Coburn. Illustrated. Published in 1918. 60 pp. Price $2.50.

“Lexington, the Birthplace of American Liberty.” A hand-book. By Fred
S. Piper. 1923. 62 pp. Price $0.50, postage 10 cents.

Hudson’s “History of Lexington.” Revised Edition. In two volumes. 1913.
Vol. I, History; 583 pp. Vol. II, Genealogies; 897 pp. Withdrawn.

“Guide Book to Hancock-Clark House.” A descriptive catalogue of the
historical collection of the Lexington Historical Society on exhibition
in the house where Hancock and Adams were sleeping when aroused by Paul
Revere. Illustrated. 24 pp. Price $0.20.

“Epitaphs in the Old Burying Grounds, Lexington.” By Francis Brown,
M.D. With map. 8vo. About 200 pp. Price $1.00.

“Proceedings of the Lexington Historical Society.” Historical and
Memorial papers read before the Society. Illustrated. Vols. I, II, III,
IV. 8vo. About 250 pp. each. Price $1.00 per volume. Vol. I out of
print.

Note that Vol. II, out of print for many years, can now be supplied.

“A Sketch of the Munroe Clan.” 1900. By James Phinney Munroe. Paper. 75
pp. Price $0.50. Out of print.

“Lexington, Mass., Record of Births, Marriages and Deaths” to January
1, 1898. Cloth. 484 pp. Sent on receipt of 25 cents postage.

“Two Hundredth Anniversary of the Incorporation of the Town of
Lexington.” 1913. Proceedings and Addresses. Paper. 37 pp. Price $0.20.

“Lexington Historical Society. A sketch of its origin and
achievements.” 1886-1912. By Fred S. Piper. Paper. 10 pp. Price $0.10.

“The Rev. Jonas Clark, Minister and Patriot in Lexington for 50 Years.”
1755-1805. By Rev. Charles F. Carter. 1912. 10 pp. Price $0.10.

“Munroe Tavern--the Custodian’s Story.” 1925. 31 pp. Price $0.35.

18 Postal Card Views of Historic Lexington, 8 of which are copyrighted
including the Hancock-Clark House, Buckman Tavern, Munroe Tavern,
Minuteman Statue, interiors, etc. Price $0.03 each, $0.45 the set.

Photographs. The Lexington Historical Society has an extensive
collection of photographs of Historic Lexington. Printed on heavy paper
(usually 7-1/2 × 9). Price $1.25 each, postage paid.

Other volumes and Lantern Slides in preparation.




TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:


  Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.

  Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.