Chapter II: Part 2

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_

“_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_

“_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.