 The Cavalcade of America, presented by Dupont. The Story of Amirigo Vespucci. Adapted for radio from material suggested by the noted American author, Carl Carmer. With Burgess Meredith, star of stage screen and radio, as Amirigo Vespucci. Welcome to a new series of The Cavalcade of America, brought to you by Dupont, makers of better things for better living through chemistry. Our historical advisor is Dr. Frank Monahan, professor of history at Yale University. A writer on American subjects, as well as a noted analyst in the fields of historical research, Dr. Monahan is now ready to tell you about tonight's drama, Dr. Monahan. We begin this new Cavalcade series by asking a question. Who first discovered America? Was it Columbus? Was it John Capet? Or was it Amirigo Vespucci? It was certainly named for Amirigo Vespucci, and that fact ought to have something to do with the answer. One of the first lessons of history is this, that few things are either as simple or as certain as they sometimes seem to be. Historians have spent years in the study of our problem. They have debated it fiercely. Even now, some are doubtful. Of course, if we could go back to the closing years of the 15th century, we could see and hear for ourselves and thus happily settle the matter. Well, perhaps we can. Perhaps we can go backward in time by going forward in space. You know that the sound waves set in motion by each and every noise travel on forever. If we could travel faster than the speed of sound, we might somewhere in the remote fringes of time and space catch up to the very voices of Vespucci and his friends. Since the voice of Vespucci ought to be a good authority on our problem, let us set off on this strange journey into the past. Here at last we have something. The day, the 9th of March, the year 1451, the choir of the majestic cathedral in the medieval city of Florence, in nominipatri, et chili et spiritu san. America, I baptize thee in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. America, meaning the work ruler, the designator of tasks. So, on March 9th, 1451, a child of medieval Florence is christened with the name destined to be given to a part of the world as yet unknown. As the boy grew, travelers visiting the family's stately mansion fed his dreaming mind with tales of mysterious lands on the edge of the world. Tales of Marigorito to his playmate Piero Sodorini when the courtyard would be deserted on bright summer afternoon. I swear by the Virgin it's true, Piero. The ship was doomed. The sailors saw strange wonders. And one day the sea bubbled in hissed. The steam shot up into the air. And then the waves raced up like mountains and burst into whirlwinds of fire. I don't believe it. It's true, I tell you. They were sailing for the land of the Grand Con, but they didn't reach it. Only Marco Polo has been there. Piero, listen. I'm going to the land of the Grand Con someday. You a medical? They'll pass all those monsters and whirlwinds of fire. Then I'll come home with bags of gold and flowers as big as pomegranates. And I'll tell you all about the far away world beyond the sea. Oh, you'll be afraid. Afraid? Marco Polo wasn't afraid? Why, I'll draw my sword at those big monsters and I'll shout, Make way, you cursed demons of fire and water! Make way for America, this foochie! America! Watch your mother. She heard you. What are you boys doing out here during siesta? You should be upstairs sleeping with the others. America was telling me about a ship that was lost in a sea of fire. And Madonna, Elizabeth, they were big monsters. You have too much imagination, my son. It's sinful to make up lies. It's true, every word, Madonna. Fire Georgina and I talk much about men who sail away on great voyages. You go to your uncle's school to study diplomacy. Not to daydream about far away places. Now there's the tower bell. You see? You've had no siesta today. Good day, Elizabeth. Good afternoon, cousin. Good afternoon, boy. Good afternoon, uncle. Well, I see you've risen early from your siesta. Cousin Georgino, why do you enchant my son with dreams about voyaging and sailing? I've just learned he's been... We do but discuss the topics of the day, cousin. In developing your son's mind, we sometimes examine the theory of a great philosopher who holds the unusual opinion that the earth is round. As a churchman, you should have him burned at the stake. Who is this heretic? Paul Toscanilli, right here in Florence. That's right, Madonna. Who is it, Paul? Be silent, Amerigo. I blame this on you, cousin Georgino. First thing, my third son will wish to leave me and go on one of these voyages to the end of the earth. And I will not have that. I'm not willing to grow old with nothing to love. You. Come with me, Piero. Yes, Madonna, Elizabeth. I'm afraid, Amerigo, we've upset Madonna, Elizabeth. Uncle, take me to see the wizard, Paul, will you? Someday you shall see him, my son. But not until you've studied these things very hard. And I mean study, Amerigo. Not badry. In the lavish Florence of the Renaissance, Amerigo grows to manhood. He steeps himself in the wisdom that prepares him for acquaintanceship with the learned Paul the philosopher. And after years of intense study, he finally is permitted to meet and study under the great medieval wizard. One June day, Amerigo, now grown to manhood, is standing in Paul's study, watching the old man. He works over a curious chart. There. There, that's the last line. I finish. Yes, you have, master. It's wonderful. Let me give you some wine, master Paul. Hey, that chart proves it conclusively. Thank you, Amerigo. Now only an imbecile could deny your theory. Why isn't it plain to everyone that the earth is round? Someday, master, the world will know that you are right. And I will prove it. If I ever get a ship, I will sail the sea of darkness. You've been my best pupil, Amerigo. It's another thing to be the best mariner in the world. Ah, but I know I could do it, master. Or if I had a chart like this, I suppose it's for Lorenzo de' Medici. Why should he have it? He's more interested in playing with gold and dockets. This sea chart is not for my patron Lorenzo. Not for Lorenzo? Then for whom? Ameriner in Spain has written me asking for measurements to the west across the sea of darkness. He too believes the earth is round and is determined to prove it. Who is he? He signs his letter. Your servant in the holy name of Christ, Christopher Columbus. Columbus. Christopher Columbus and Amerigo Vespucci. Italian born in the same year are drawn by the hand of destiny with the same beliefs and convictions. But as the years pass, Columbus draws closer to the realization of his plans while luxury and the indulgence of a fond doting mother dull the initiative of Amerigo Vespucci. Then, when he is 38, the misfortune occurs which hurries his steps up the marble stairs of the Medici Palace and is the throne room of the sergeant. Lorenzo de Medici, the lofty, gilded chamber with its brilliant tapestries, is throng as Lorenzo is entertaining his guests. Ah, at that poor time you choose for your appointment, Mr. Amerigo. Can't we postpone it until tomorrow? Well, if you could grant me a moment, my lord. Why? Why should I grant anybody anything? I've brought these musicians from Padua and I detest distraction. I cannot believe my ears. Is Lorenzo graceless? I have heard of his charm and now... Do you find me without grace, countess? Oh, come, Lorenzo, let's hear this Amerigo and then I shall answer for your charm. Very well, proceed, Mr. Amerigo. I am grateful to you, countess. My lord, my father has lost almost all his fortune. He is very old now and I have come here desiring to prove my value to you. No, if it's a physician in my banking house, Mr. Amerigo, so be it. No, no, no, not in a banking house here in Florence, my lord. I have heard that you are planning another venture in Spain. Send you to Spain? I thought you desired to prove your value to me. No, no, Amerigo, I need men of initiative there and your reputation in Florence is not of that sort and furthermore, what would your mother say if I took you away from your maps and charts in Florence? I am 38 years old, my lord. My mother will impose no objections. I promise you. It is a serious promise he gives you, Lorenzo. Try me, try me, my lord. I am told that you have lent large sums to some shipbuilders in Sevilla. The Berardi, is it so? Yes, it is. Well, send me to them, my lord. I have knowledge of banking. Let me supervise your dealings with the Berardi. You will never regret it. I promise you. You may regret this fervent desire to go to Spain, Mr. Amerigo. No, my lord, no. I shall never regret going to Spain. It is his earnestness, Lorenzo. Such earnestness has moved princes. Will it not move Lorenzo? Oh, yes. Very well, go to Spain, if you will. My lord, I promise, I promise I will not fail. Countess, they're playing that music for me. Come, let us down. In Spain, as Amerigo Vespucci sits dreaming at his desk, he hears disturbing rumors of Christopher Columbus. All the great Mariner has been commissioned by the Spanish sovereigns to embark westward across the Sea of Darkness on a new route to the land of the Grand Con. Amerigo dispatches a messenger to Palos to bring him further news. Minutes become hours, hours, days. And one night, he hears footsteps in the streets. His messenger is returning. Mr. Amerigo! Yes. The madman Columbus has gone. Gone to be devoured by monsters and great waves in the seas of the West. I did not send you to Palos to bring back your opinions, Louis. Tell me only what you saw. How many ships sailed? Three. The Santa Maria, Pinta and Nina. Two were fast ships, easy to handle. But they gave the madman himself the imposing but unfit vessel, the Santa Maria. He never knew the difference. A large was it? About a hundred ton burden and 90 feet long. It was terrible to see them sail, master. They're all going to certain depths. They say those monsters are... You ignorant, jabbering fool! Why is the world played with stupidity? Mr. Amerigo, I... Enough! I want you to do this for me. Take ship for Florence. In my home area, you will find my collection of sea charts, clothes and instruments which have grown dusty too long with its use. Bring them to me when Columbus has sailed. Through the sunlit plazas of Old Madrid, we take glittering pageants. The streets re-echo with a tumult and enthusiasm of a proud and friendly populace. High over the city's bells are peeling in the soaring towers of Madrid's ancient cathedrals. Passing before the glory and majesty of the Empire of Spain is a glamorous pageant of bronze sailors on foot. Lumbering wagons loaded with strange plants, stuffed animals no man there had ever seen before. Screaming parrots, copper-colored savages in line cloths with spears and arrows. It is the beginning of the cavalcade of America, the triumphant return to Spain of Christopher Columbus. Wedged in the crowd is a medical vestucci. Today he is not in his shipyard. He is trying to look over the heads of the throng across the plaza where the pageant has paused before the thrones of King Ferdinand and Queen Isabella. What are they doing? I can't see. You're pardoned, senior. You're pardoned. There he is! C'mon! C'mon! C'mon! C'mon! Where is he? Well, would you let me speak? The king will let him heal. He's raising him to his feet. Pardon, senior, pardon. I can see if you'll step to one side. What's the tongue, senior? Carden is about to pray. That by means of God's grace, Christopher Columbus has been permitted to go and return from that promised land for two years. Why is this ridiculous? What did you say, senior? Any fool with a sea chart drawn by Paul the philosopher could have done it. Could have done what? What are you saying? I said nothing. With shipyards and counting-house in Seville goes Amarigo Vestucci to console himself for the affairs of his firm which suddenly receives an order to equip Christopher Columbus with a fleet of ships for his second voyage a month passes and then one day the streets of Seville are lined with eager citizens assembled to see Christopher Columbus for in velvet and sword the grand admiral of Spain has come to the home of Amarigo Vestucci. On his Moorish patio, Amarigo bows to his distinguished president. Your Excellency more than honors me. I am grateful for this favor. I have come for two reasons, senior Vestucci. Yes. First, what of my ships? And second, I am told you do not estimate as I do the importance of my voyage to the lands of the Grand Khan. We are constructing the fleet as fast as we can, Your Excellency. As to your second reason, it may be that your Excellency has been misinformed. Let me say only this. This time I shall not merely reach the lands of the Grand Khan. I shall go to his capital an ambitious project. Excellency, I have heard of the wealth of the Grand Khan. I look not for gain. I have a solemn oath to equip a force of 4,000 horses in 50,000 foot for the recovery of the Holy Sepulcher. I shall keep that oath should I reach the land of the Grand Khan again with all deference to the importance of your recent voyage. I deem it by no means certain that your ships touch the land of the Grand Khan. That is hardly consequential. Oh, it is very consequential. I believe you have discovered a new world. A new... Come, come, Vestucci. You must be thinking of the paradise described by Dante. I don't know the paradise, but I believe it's a new world you have come upon without knowing it. When I sailed to the islands near China where the land of the Grand Khan is, I know where I went. The basis for my voyage was a chart made by Paul the philosopher. I studied it. Vestucci, you'd better remember, you build ships. I failed them. And I not only studied Paul's charts, I worked under his direction in Florence. I know the chart you refer to was drawn with the knowledge of Marco Polo's accounts that generated the size of the lands of the Grand Khan so that they seem closer to Europe than they actually are. I think you discovered a new world that lies between us and those lands. I have heard you are a scholar, Signor Vestucci. You have time for dreaming, too, I dare say. Again, your excellency has made a mistake. May I remind you, my friend, it is one thing to sail the sea of darkness and another to chart an imaginary voyage on this desk. Vestucci, I bid you good morning. Imaginary voyage on this desk. The years pass. Christopher Columbus and Emergo Vestucci will meet no more. It is the year 1504 and we go to an upstairs room in an old inn located in Seacoast town in Portugal. It is late at night. A man sits at the table, chin in hand, his eyes brooding and weary, his hair flecked with silver, shadows cross his face in the candlelight. It is Emergo Vestucci. In the corner of the room, at a small desk, quill in hand, a recorder smoothed out a fresh sheet of parchment. Now then, Francisco, I want you to write this for me to his excellency, Piero Sororino in Florence. Are you ready? Most excellent, sir. I will always remember you in the time of our youth when we were playmates. And I would tell you fantastic stories of violent seas and mysterious worlds beyond the leech of man. At this date I am induced to write by a desire to impart to your excellency the description of things seen by me during the course of my voyage of discovery of new lands in the great western ocean. We call at one time the sea of darkness. We sail from the port of Cadiz on the 19th of May 1497. Because of strong fortunate winds we sail so rapidly westward that as dawn came on the morning of the 27th... Emergo! Emergo! Awake! Awake! What is it? What is it? Land is in sight. Land, you say? Land! Look to starboard! Do you see it? Do I see it, Giovanni? Rising like a long, high, dark cloud from the sea. Mr. Vespucci. Mr. Vespucci. Are you from the land discovered by Columbus? No, I am far past the little islands discovered by Columbus. I have come upon a vast new world. And now, Frenchess, go write this. So our ship anchored. Cheered by the sight of many people ashore we cast off our boats. Filled them with men in arms and proceeded to land. After a time we concluded to leave this place and go onward, we journeyed on finding traces of gold and pearl and many friendly peoples in a harbor where we repaired the ships for our return voyage. After 13 months we set sail for Spain with 223 prisoners arrived at the port of Cadiz on October the 15th, 1498 where we were well received. There, I think that's all, Francisco. And sign it, if you please. Sign it, the humble servant of your excellency. A miracle! The letter is finished. The man at the table rises and crosses to a casement window where he stands silently gazing upon the western ocean. In a moment he is alone the scribe and the sheets of parchment gone. By ship and carrier the letter reaches Piero Sodorini in Florence. It becomes the sensation of the hour. It is translated into French, then into Latin and then it comes to the attention of a mathmaker in France, Martin Valsimil. One morning early in the year 157 in Valsimil's study at the University of San Die. Here it is, ringman, a map of the entire world. It is wonderful beyond my dreams. It's the perfect illustration for your manuscript, my friend. Here, let me spread it out. Oh, well. Here, here are the three great continents. I've indicated each land with its symbol. The Roman Imperial Eagle for the middle of Europe. The Crescent for Africa. The Red Cross of Prestigian for eastern and southern India. It's truly a masterpiece. And over here is the newly discovered fourth continent. Wait, what is at the top? That is the likeness of Amerigo Vespucci. Of course. The first man to visit the fourth continent. That is why I'm going to put his name on a map of the whole region. That will be the name of the new world, America. The voices of the past are once more fading into the past. The echoes of those scholars, mariners and dreamers. The voices of Paul the philosopher, Columbus, Valsimil and Amerigo Vespucci are still somewhere in the universe. Out beyond the stars. Beyond the world we know. Saint Whispering. Coming through the silence of centuries. Grand con some days. You're America. Those monsters and whirlwinds of fire. Begs of gold. Grows as big as pomegranates. World beyond the sea. Why isn't it plain to everyone with tears in round? If I ever get a ship, I'll sail the sea of darkness. Any fool with a sea chart drawn by Paul the philosopher could do it. Could have done what? What are you saying? Vespucci, you'd better remember. You built it. I failed them. A dreamer. You are a scholar, another saver. May I remind you, my friend, it is one thing to sail the sea of darkness and another to chart an imaginary voyage on this disk. Imaginary voyage? On this disk and far past the little island you discovered by Columbus. I have come upon a vast, new world. The voice of Vespucci has told us his story. But did he tell us what really happened on that disputed voyage of 1497? Did he actually make that voyage? What do you think, Dr. Monaghan? If he did, then he was certainly entitled to immortal fame. But during the years other voices have said that Vespucci did not reach the American continent in 1497. It is possible that he did, but it seems probable that he did not. Perhaps he merely dreamed of a great voyage. Possibly his act of imagination lost sight of the distinction which other men make between a dream and a reality. Even Volcimula, the map maker, came to have his doubts. In 1507 he was enthusiastic in naming the new world America. But when, nine years later, he made another important map, he tried to rename the continent, which he first called America. It was too late. But had he been successful in renaming the new world, I would now be addressing you, not as fellow Americans, but as fellow illiterate millions. And so, in taking our leave of the voices of the past, I say thank you, Martin Volcimula, thank you, Amerigo Vespucci, and thank you, Burgess Meredith. Thank you, Dr. Monaghan. Before asking you to give us news of next week's drama, we have a short story from the wonder world of chemistry. Christopher Columbus and other early explorers braved the terrors of the unknown world to find new sources of raw material. In their search, they created new frontiers for the world of their time. Chemists, too, are explorers, seeking new material, new product, or better living. And when chemists set out to create something for your use and enjoyment, they nearly always discover other things along the road. For example, the discovery of rayon led to the development of cellophane cellulose film. A chemist, experimenting with acetylene gas, opened up a line of thinking that led to the creating of man-made rub. Research in extracting nitrogen compounds from the air gave rise to the crystal-clear plastic lusite. Later, the same research led to the amazing new material nylons, which, among other things, is going into the making of beautiful, sheer stockings for women. You'll hear in weeks to come strange facts about commonplace articles you use every day. And you'll hear about products so new that even their names are unknown to many people. Another thing that will interest you is the way American chemists have met the problem of supplying all the important needs of our nation, making it unnecessary for us to rely on lands across the sea. Like the explorers of old, modern chemists are discovering entirely new sources for vitally needed raw materials. And finding them right here at home. This is a real protection for your pocketbook, not to mention the protection that affords all of us against the emergencies of wars, blockades, or monopolies. You'll hear too how chemistry creates new jobs, how it makes wages grow where there were none before. No matter what your own job is or where you live, as you listen to these weekly adventures in chemical research, you'll come to appreciate the full meaning of the DuPont place. Better things for better living through chemistry. And now, Dr. Monaghan. As we close this first evening of the new series of Cavalcade of America, I feel myself falling into an old classroom habit. I give you a question, a charming question, because you don't have to answer it. This question will be answered next week when Walter Euston will be the guest of Cavalcade of America. It's about the pilgrim, a subject familiar to you all. But I wonder if you can answer this. How did a kidnapping English sea captain contribute to the successful settlement of the children's fathers in Massachusetts? Thank you. The 14 Burgess Meredith tonight are cast including the following well-known radio performers. Kingsley Coaten as the Boy America, John McIntyre as Paul the philosopher, Carl Quentin as Lorenzo, and Stefan Schnabel as Columbus. Musical effects and orchestra as usual were under the direction of Don Borey. Next week, our guest star will be Walter Euston in the story of a strange friend of pilgrim. This is Ted Dewitt saying good night and best wishes from Dupont. This is the National Broadcasting Company.