 The Cavalcade of America, presented by DuPont. This evening the DuPont Cavalcade presents the story of Charlotte Cushman, America's first great actress. Through her pioneering efforts in the early theater of this country, the drama received an impetus that carried it to a foremost place in the standard of American culture. You'll enjoy the story of chemistry at the close of our broadcast tonight. It's about perfumes and aromatics. You might think, for instance, that 10 tons of violets would make some pretty nice violet perfume. But something is missing. How DuPont research chemists improve on nature and supply just the right aromatic to create a true violet odor is one of the many curious facts told in tonight's story of better things for better living through chemistry. As an overture, Don Voris and the DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra play a special setting of two old favorites. Drink to me only with thine eyes and sally in our alley. The DuPont Cavalcade moves forward. To be the first great American actress is a unique distinction. Through the brilliant versatility and genius of Charlotte Cushman, the American stage achieved its earliest prominence. Born July 23rd, 1816 of Pilgrim Ancestry, Charlotte, at the age of 19, had resolutely determined to support her poverty-stricken family. Thus, one Sunday morning, she is talking excitedly with her sister on the steps of an old Boston church before services. Susan, is he here? I don't know, Charlotte. I look for Mr. Mater everywhere. Oh, you'll come. I'm sure he will. Perhaps he isn't coming after all. Oh, he must. He promised to meet you on the church steps this morning. Good morning, Miss Black. I'm afraid a big opera manager like Mr. Mater has too much to do these days. Besides hearing a church singer, he probably sleeps till noon every day. Oh, Susan, I'll die if he misses my solo. I only know if he won't hear my voice. If he won't let me have only the tiniest part in his opera company, all our troubles will be over. Poor dear. We haven't any money left. Nothing at all. With father so terribly ill, I'm frightened. Trying not to be, Charlotte. Remember, you've got to sing anyway. The service is starting. But nearly everyone's inside now. Miss Krishman, the choir master's been looking all over for you. You'd better hurry to the choir room. You have much time. We'll be there, director. Yes, I'll tell the choir master you're ready then. Come along, Charlotte. Oh, how can I sing this morning? Especially when Mr. Mater disappointed me so frightfully. Remember, dear, this is your work. I'd sing so much better if only I knew he were listening. Do this, Charlotte. Remember how we used to imagine we would play actors when we were little? Well, just imagine Mr. Mater is here and sing with all your heart. Who wants to be an actor? I want to be an opera singer. Well, if you want to be an opera singer, you should be able to act. All right, Susan. I'll be an actress during my solo limb. I'll pretend I'm singing for Mr. Mater. Charlotte and Susan hurry to the choir room. The services begin. At the operatory, Charlotte rises tremblingly in her place. Anxiously, her eyes sweep the hushed congregation, searching eagerly in the hope that James Mater might be somewhere in the church. Then with a determined effort, Charlotte sings. The services are over. Charlotte joins her sister Susan in the choir room. Oh, Charlotte, your solo is heavenly. Well, anyway, I pretended Mr. Mater was right here in the church listening to me. But now he isn't, and it's all over, and it was just a piece of bad acting, wasn't it? There's so many confounded doors around here, one could hardly find the choir room. Miss Cushman, you have a beautiful voice. Well, speak up. Can't either of you say something? Oh, Mr. Mater, were you here then, after all? After all, here? Of course I was here. Came a bit late, had to sit in the rear of the church. Come and see me tomorrow, Miss Cushman. You're young, but you are a singer. So Charlotte made her debut in the role of the Countess Alma Viva in James Mater's production of Mozart's The Marriage of Figaro at the Tremont Theatre in Boston. The city went wild with enthusiasm over the young prima donna. The girl's ego and vicious mind was filled with glimmering visions of a rapturous operatic career. But one night in New Orleans, James Mater and Charlotte's sister Susan stand in the wings of the opera house as Charlotte sings her aria. Much like you, Mr. Mater. She's just tired tonight, I think. No, it's more than that, Susan. In spite of my warning, she constantly strains for those high notes. She's ruining her voice, if she hasn't already ruined it. You don't really think that... Listen, listen. The Mater, what's the matter? I don't know, my dear, she must be ill. Quick, Ryan! Stop the curtain! You go along to your dressing room. Miss Cushman, what happened to Charlotte? I'll get you to her. Never mind, never mind, my dear. Ryan, tell Miss Henshaw to go on and Miss Cushman's fine. Yes, sir. We're going to take Miss Cushman to her dressing room. She must rest. Come along, Charlotte. Oh, Mr. Mater. Well, that's often the way, my dear. I don't blame you. I sent you your ambition. But now it's all over. Oh, don't say that, Charlotte. Don't say it because it isn't true at all. Oh, it is true. I know. Charlotte, come in the dressing room, dear. We can talk so much better then. Are they going on with the performance, Mr. Mater? Well, of course, my dear. Miss Henshaw will finish the opera for you. After a good night's sleep, Charlotte. You'll be as fresh as ever. Tomorrow you'll see the day. There won't be any tomorrow, Susan. My voice is ruined. I know. My operatic career is over. Oh, don't take it so hard, Charlotte. It may not be so. Oh, I'm a failure. I don't know what I'll do now. Well, you're not a failure, Charlotte. Of course you're not, Charlotte. You just wanted success too suddenly, that's all. You overworked your voice. You must rest. You mustn't jump at conclusions too quickly. One night, one failure, doesn't mean your operatic career is over. But I know my own voice. I shall never sing again. Oh, Charlotte. Oh, answer, Susan. I don't want to see anyone. All right, Charlotte. I'm a friend of Jim Mater. Would I speak to Miss Cushman, please? Come in, Barton. Come in. I'm delighted to see you. This is Mr. Barton, Charlotte. He's a dramatic coach and a producer. It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Cushman. I was out in the house tonight. Oh, please. I realized what happened, that your voice was overstrained. Miss Cushman, I'm going to speak impulsively and quickly. Will you listen? Certainly. Go on, Mr. Barton. Miss Cushman, it's true you did not appear to mow the best musical advantage tonight. And yet, you were absolutely dominating out there on that stage. Your dramatic presence is astonishingly superb. Would you... Would you consider becoming an actress? Charlotte. There, you see, Charlotte? The world is full of careers. An actress? Oh, yes. Tell me, Mr. Barton, do you think I might become an actress? I'll teach you. But you must work very hard. Oh, I will. I know I will. Cushman, who developed the great dramatic instincts of Charlotte Cushman. For three years, she astonished New York, appearing in a variety of demanding roles. Then, in 1844, determined to bring unusual distinction to the American theater, the actress sailed for England. Susan, now herself an actress of notable ability, soon joined her in London. One night, at the stage of the Haymarket Theater, is being set for the balcony scene of Romeo and Juliet. The girls are surprised when B.N. Webster, manager of the theater, brushes across the wings to them. I hate to interrupt you in the middle of the performance, Miss Cushman, but this is an extraordinary emergency. I insist that you don't bring up the curtain on the next scene. What do you mean, Mr. Webster? This fantastic idea of yours, playing Romeo. Whoever heard of an actress playing Romeo. Oh, in Shakespeare's day, men played women's parts. Why can't women play men's parts now? What's the difference of a person's a good actress? Well, anyway, the audience seems to be attentive enough to tend to my back. The audience is stunned. They don't know what to make of it. But this is a big scene in a play. Wait till they see it. That's what worries me. Everybody knows the balcony scene. Any role should be easy to a real actress. I've been trained in the American theater. I can act any part. The American theater, nonsense. This is everybody. Ready, Miss Cushman. Do you want to stop the performance, Mr. Webster? Well, I should. Have you ever heard an English audience hear the performance they don't like? They're trying to frighten us. You're a plucky girl. And I don't like to see you ruin your career. I can see you're indisposed. Oh, don't be ridiculous. They accepted the first act. But the balcony scene, don't... If they hoot you off the stage, you'll only have yourself to blame. Are you afraid, Susan? No. Not with you, Charlotte. I'll end up in the balcony with you. Idiotic. Just a couple of American Indians. You'll be happy. You ready, dear? Yes, Charlotte. We'll give them a balcony scene they won't forget. Bring up the curtain. He just said scars that never felt a wound. But soft. What light through yonder window breaks. It is the East. And duly it is the sun. Old Haymarket Theater, the audience sat enthralled as the beautiful voices of these young American players rose in lyric recitation of the tenderest love passages in literature. The silence is breathless, as the scene draws to a close. Good night. Good night. Parting is such sweet sorrow that I shall say good night, till it be moral. Sleep dwell upon my eyes. Peace in thy breast. If I were sleep, then peace. So sweet to rest. Charlotte Cushman's amazing venture as Romeo elevated the art of American acting to a lofty pinnacle before an admiring world. After a record engagement of 80 nights, Charlotte returned and triumphed to America. As the years passed, it was as Meg Merleys, the gypsy hag in the dramatization of Sir Walter Scott's novel Guy Manoring, that Charlotte Cushman has become immortal in the annals of the American stave. The scene in that play where Meg sends a message to Colonel Manoring by Abel Sampson always hushed the theater with a strange emotion, and never was this more true than on a warm spring night in 1859. Lesson used to words of power, the right flower, the dark shall be light, and the wrong meet on Ellen Gowen's height. That is the honorable Sampson I want. Okay, while a limb of you hangs to get us. Avoid the mad, thou art. No, too for mad, skirt for mad. Oh, most accursed. Oh, I mean, that is most... Accurate. Then tell Colonel Manoring he must come instantly, armed and well attended to the glen below the tower of Duncliffe, and fail not on his life. Low, I obey. For the tree is withered now. Never to be green will never sing life songs more. Woman, what sayest thou? That you tell him not to forget Meg Merrill is, but to build up the old walls in the glen for her sake. For if ever the dead come back among the living, I will be seen in that glen many a night after these crazed bones are whitened in the mouldering grave. Oh, aye. But Colonel Manoring he shall be the best lord that Ellen Gowen seen these hundred years. For Manoring, aye. Low, I will hide me nimbly. Now then to complete the work of fate. The moment is at hand when all shall behold Bertram's right and Bertram's might meet in Ellen Gowen's height. When the curtain falls on the play that night Charlotte finds her automatic coach, Mr Barton, waiting for her in the wings. Charlotte, my dear, how good it is to see you. After all these years, my old friend, it's almost like old time. Almost. I... I felt I had to come tonight. Yes, I... I understand. This is Mr. Carney, Mr. Barton. How do you do, sir? Pleasure, sir. He's Abel Samson in the cast. That was a great performance, Miss Krushman. Don't you think so, Mr. Barton? You'll excuse me, won't you? I don't feel like talking just now. I'm a little tired. I'll wait for you at the stage door, Charlotte. Mr. Barton, I've played with a lot of actresses, but never have I been as moved as I was tonight. Didn't she play that theme magnificently? More magnificently than you think, I'm afraid. Oh, I'll never forget the way she said that line. The tree is withered now, never to be green again. She put her whole heart into it. She most certainly did, young man. Her sister Susan died this afternoon. Saddened by the death of her beloved sister, Charlotte sought consolation in her art. The greatest actress of her day, her name was billed with the foremost names in the theater of her age. After her retirement from the stage, Charlotte gave a series of dramatic readings throughout the nation. One evening in 1875, as she leaves the platform of a theater in Chicago, a young girl approaches her. Well, Miss Cushman? Yes, what is it? Miss Cushman, could I speak with you a moment? I'm, I'm an actress. My name is Jane Lewis. Certainly, Jane. Come over here, we'll sit down. Thank you, it's awfully nice of you. Now then, what did you want to talk to me about? Well, Miss Cushman, as I said, I'm an actress. Just a little stock up, you know. But I'm young and I want your advice. Oh, I've got no defense, but yours is the opinion I'd like to have. What's bothering you, my dear? You see, it's this. I'm in love. Here? And, and if I do get married, my fiancee wants me to give up the theater. I see. And you want my advice, do you, Jane? As an actress. Yes, Miss Cushman. Oh, as an actress. As an actress. Well, that'll be a little more difficult than if I advise you as a woman, my dear. No, no. As an actress. Please, Miss Cushman. Very well, Jane. Now what I'm going to say to you, my child, oh, I wish it might be written on the wall of every young American actress's dressing room. It is this. I found my career to be sadly real and intensely earnest. To be thoroughly earnest is the secret of success, Jane. Art is an absolute taskmaster that will not be trifled with or slighted. Art requires the most entire self-devotion. There's your answer, Jane. And it repays. Ah, yes. It repays with glorious triumphs. Cushman died a little over a year later on February 18th, 1876. In an age when actresses are customarily typed, the memory of this pioneer American artist who portrayed roles of every age in description becomes an inspiration. The Cushman clubs maintained in several cities throughout the United States for actresses touring with road companies symbolize a tribute to the ever-present spirit of Charlotte Cushman. The only actress to achieve a place in the Hall of Fame to pounce salute Charlotte Cushman in the cavalcade of America. Which do you think would make the better perfume a nice big bunch of fragrant lilacs or a large lump of black coal? Strangely enough, the answer is a lump of coal. No one has ever succeeded in producing the true lilac odor by extracting the natural oils from the flower itself. But from coal, chemists extract coal tar, which provides bases for sweet-smelling perfumes. Of course, the natural flowers are used in certain cases to produce perfumes. But 10 tons of violets, for example, are needed to get a single ounce of natural violet essence. That's a mighty slow and expensive operation. And even when nature's own flowers are used, something is missing in the final extract. It really doesn't smell like violets do. So chemists add man-made essences to bring out the true odor of violets. Chemists have developed more than a thousand chemicals called aromatics. This has made it possible for millions to enjoy perfumes that once were far too expensive for the average purse because of the lack of and therefore the high cost of nature's ingredients. Today, DuPont chemists duplicate odors like lilac or lily of the valley, which could not be produced a few years ago at any cost. The chemist, too, has originated many pleasing new odors that even old mother nature never thought of. One of the latest made from a coal tar product is trademarked alpine violet. Perfumes made with DuPont aromatics provide the elusive fragrance of a flower called the mountain cyclamen. Many a musk deer now racing happily across the rocky slopes of Tibet owes its life to the research chemists. The demand for the musk from these animals was once so great that if a pure grade could have been obtained, a pound of it would have been worth many thousands of dollars. So the musk deer stood a good chance of becoming exterminated until the chemist made a synthetic musk for a fraction of the price. The synthetic musk blends many odors into one and at the same time gives permanence or lasting power to perfume. These aromatic bases impart a pleasant odor to soaps, cosmetics, and toilet goods of all kinds. They also give an agreeable scent to leather, paint, textiles, and linoleum. Perfumes are even used to make medicines that ink pleasing to our sense of smell. In fact, many products that serve us daily would offend our noses if it were not for the art of perfumery. Aromatic bases are just a few of the useful products that DuPont chemists make from coal tar. And coal tar is but one of the many raw materials with which DuPont chemists work in their constant effort to provide better things for better living through chemistry. The search for iron. The story of Hepsebef Merritt and her seven sons who discovered iron in northern Minnesota will be the subject of our broadcast when next week, the same time, DuPont again presents the Cavalcade of America. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.