 DuPont, maker of better things for better living through chemistry, presents the Cavalcade of America, starring Paul Muni. Tonight we have a story to tell you about a man who lived over a hundred years ago. He was a man who foresaw the need for free men to unite against the forces of tyranny and oppression abroad in the world. He envisioned the time when the peoples of the entire Western Hemisphere would have to stand linked in one powerful Pan-American Union to preserve their freedom. Together with the great South American liberators Miranda and San Martin, he brought the reality of liberty to the continent of South America. The name of that man was Simone Bolivar. Tonight he is portrayed on the Cavalcade of America by the distinguished American actor Paul Muni. It was an evening in the year 1830, a December evening. Mid-summer off the steamy, tropic coast of Columbia, a sailing vessel creeps in through the sea mist and anchors in the little harbor of Santa Marta. A boat bearing a sick man on a litter is lowered over her side, and the sailors roll for the beach where a few mounted soldiers ride on patrol. Why are you landing here, sailors? Don't you see, soldier, a sick man needs a doctor. Don't you know these shows are quarantined, shipmaster? Take him back to the ship. This is a large land, soldier. You refuse me six feet of it. Get him back to the boat, sailors. We want no pestilence here. This freedom, a pestilence, soldier, is liberty a plague. Who are you? Shipmaster, who is this man? If I wore your uniform, I'd be ashamed not to recognize Simone Bolivar. Bolivar? It can't be. He exiled himself. True, but he was dying on shipboard, and we brought him here. Sire, forgive me. Shipmaster, give me a hand, shipmaster, sailor, soldiers! Lift him, lift him up! Get him to a doctor! How is he now, doctor? His mind wanders in delirium, soldier. Oze, my sword, get me my sword. Out of the way, manuella. I'll die as I've lived, fighting. Sire, wake up, Sire. There's no enemy here. Oze! Oh, it's you, doctor. Only I am the soldier, Sire. I'll take these glasses, my general. Bring the medicine. Do I see the sun shining? I thought it was night. It will soon be dark, Sire. Yes, it will soon be dark. Sire, general Bolivar! What? You lift him back on the bed, soldiers. Help him, doctor. Do something for him. There's nothing to do now, except wait. His lips move as if he were speaking, trying to say something. If we could only hear, our nitty dreamer hears his own dream. I will sit here, soldier, and guard his silence. You don't hear them anymore, do you, Simon Bolivar? You have slipped into the darkness, Bolivar. Is this the way it comes? No voice, no vision. Must you face it all again? Given account of yourself, Bolivar, there's not much time left. What of the thousands who followed you to their death? What will you tell them? That you, too, became a tyrant? Yes, you, Simon. You, Simoncito. How long since anyone, even a lover dared to call you by your Christian name, Simon Bolivar? It was in Spain, wasn't it? Another continent, another time. In the royal palace in Madrid. Rodriguez was there, too, wasn't he? Your tutor, Rodriguez. Radical apostle of freedom. Rodriguez. Simoncito, what is it? Aren't you enjoying the queen's reception? It's being given in your honor, you know. Honor? If I had any honor, I'd be home in Venezuela. Not here, among my people's enemies. Come, Simoncito, cheer up. Have you met the young countess? She dances like a cow. Really? I've never seen a dancing cow. Ah, blast them all, Rodriguez. Blast their guilty, cringing souls. Simoncito, you know I feel as strongly about this as you do, but there is a time and place for everything. You will not secure liberty for our people by insulting the king's chamberlain. Now, come, let us have the old gentleman's feeling. Here he comes now, the old butcher. And look who's with him. Remember what I told you, but Rodriguez. Ah, Bolívar, just a moment. Excellency. May I present the young Marques de Bolívar. My family claims no titles, Excellency. As for me, I'm a Republican. So I've heard, senor. You see, as Grand Inquisito, it is my business to know what members of the important families in the colonies are thinking. Not only the important families judging from the amount of blood on your hand, Excellency. But... Ha! He looks at his hands to make sure. Isn't that a little dried blood under the nail there? You miss that when you wash them. Senor, you... Gracious, what a savage. Look, you're wearing Simoncito. He's rather a firebrand, I'm afraid. But don't take it too much to heart. He's young, yes. Yes, we're all young in Venezuela, young or dead. Dead at the hands of my Lord High Inquisito. Simoncito, I beg of you. There will be a scene. Aye, there will be a scene, Majesty, and thank God your innocent eyes will be spared that scene. We, Venezuelans, have grown accustomed to the sight of blood in the streets. My Lord and ladies, have you ever seen the plaza at Caracas? We see it every day. We see the bodies of innocent men and women quarreled and dragged through the streets of our capital. We see the heads of our countrymen hung up in little cages along the highways for the vultures to pick at and to put the fear of God into our people. Highborn ladies and gentlemen like yourselves, pass quickly by to avoid this stench. Really, Simoncito? I shall have to ask you to retire to your apartment. Aye, I deeply regret if I have offended your sensibilities. Senora, sire, my Lord and ladies, perhaps we may meet again in happier circumstances. I go to Rome now for a blessing from His Holiness. I shall need it where I am going. Well enough, and that is good, Simon, my lad. You freed yourself. But now what? Rousseau made a revolution with a quill. But our people in Venezuela do not even speak our language. Different tribes of them don't speak each other's language. The man does not need to know the word liberty to know when his chains have been broken away. Look down there, Simon, at that city. Rome. How many tyrants were overthrown down there? How many republics founded there on the rocks of human vanity? A month passed we saw the end of Rousseau's dream of liberty for France. The Bonaparte put a crown on his own head. In North America the revolution is still new. But remember, they once offered Washington a crown. But Washington refused it. Even so, a confederation of states bound only by mutual interest to a central government. How long can that endure without civil war? And will they have a Washington to lead them when that comes? There will be other leaders that times make the man Rodriguez, not the other way around. You yourself said so. Yet I tell you now, there is no revolution for South America except you yourself alone. Then I swear by this holy city. I swear by the God of my forefathers. I swear by my native land that I shall never allow my hands to be idle or my soul to rest until I've broken the shackles that bind us to our Spanish oppressors. And so the curtain falls on the first act of Boulevard the Liberator, starring Paul Muni and presented by Dupont, maker of better things for better living through chemistry. Reporting back to you. Rousseau, compadre, I embrace you. So they couldn't kill you after all. They tried to harm enough in the hospital, sir. But a pigeon flew in the window and fell into the soup, so I didn't starve after all. Well, you see, our condition, my coat with a gold braid went to buy a chicken. Roup, whatever made you come all the way to Venezuela to fight for our cause, we're not fighting England, and you've no quarrel with the Spanish crown. Ask any Irishman, sir. All our ancestors were kings. So when anyone else puts a crown on his head, we often knock it off. I wish all our motives in this army was as simple as that, Roup. Ah, General Santander, I've been waiting for you. I bring you bad news, General Boliva. Your situation is growing desperate. And has it ever been otherwise? My dear friend, never has it been different since we undertook the revolution. But your country is in the hands of the enemy, Boliva. We have only a few troops, and there are 17,000 Spanish soldiers closing in on us. And that points the way to our strategy. Oh, we must avoid them. Carry the fight into your country, Santander. The Spaniards are not very strong in your Granada. We'll smash them through, by through. Then your people will rise up and join with us. We'll return to Venezuela and rout the enemy in full force. How can we march in the new Granada? The Spaniards hold the plane. Well, we'll go round them across the Andes. Climb 14,000 feet of sheer rock? You're mad, Boliva. Either we cross the Andes, or we're finished. Therefore, we cross the Andes. Boliva, you will be a victim of your own audacity. I've always believed that would happen. Colonel Roup, are you encouraging him in this crazy scheme? I am that, sir. Boliva, if you persist in taking the advice of foreigners... General Santander, I remind you what our liberator says. That this is freedom's country. There are no foreigners here. Tell me, Santander, do you love me in your heart as you profess? Why do you ask that? Because I suddenly remember what happened the first time we met. I had been given a command of your troops. And when I gave the order to march, you refused. But I finally marched. Yeah, after I threatened to shoot you. You know now that what I had to do was right that day. But I know it rankled. But, Santander, have you forgiven it? Yes. Thank you, my friend. Now I can embrace you, Santander. Believe me, we need each other. As our country needs us both. You don't refuse to march one more time, do you? I join you, Boliva, against my better judgment. Frankly, I do not believe you or any man can march an army over the Andes. A man's legs can carry him. From here onward, we must score. If a man dies here, it is a clean death. Falling from the very sky. Maybe that is what we've mentored along when we talked of liberty. But if there are any who hear it, let him turn back now. Too many. How does it happen, Rook? Yes, sir, I have flied. I told you, Rook, it could not be done. Boliva's ambition soars too high. He wants to achieve the impossible. Now he will be the death of us all. If there are his raids, impossible. But, crazily, it seems I believe that man can do anything. If he gets too steep, he'll put on wings and fly. I cannot oppose his will. I'm afraid if he ever dreams of power... Excuse me, sir. I'll be taking no talk behind his back. Through this night, Boliva. How many men have we lost? More than half. But this is the top, Santander. The highest plateau. If we keep them in alive till sunrise, we'll make it. They will freeze, I tell you, Boliva. There are a lot of them. And you are responsible for every life that's lost up here. That is one of the burdens of my command, Santander. Come. We'll get them huddled together and prove one man warming another. Like animals. The degradation of this campaign will go down in history, Boliva. I pray to God it will. In the sunlight. Where, sir? Away down the right there. See anything? I think with clouds. Look! Between those two clouds. Where the mist is rising. Where by the holy is glass. Green glass in the valley. Hey, lads, look! Ready to report, sir. Yes? Spaniards. 3,000 troops between here and Bogota. Sending two columns ahead to attack. We shan't wait to be attacked. Santander! Yes? Ten colonels are out to recruit among the surrounding countries. Bring in what mounts and food supplies they can. You are going to take the offensive with 1,200 men? As soon as we can remount our cavalry. We are in my country now, Boliva. Let us understand each other. If I risk my life in this fool's venture... People of new Granada will make you president by acclimation, Santander. That's what you wanted, wasn't it? Yes. Yes. That is what I wanted. Freedom is ours. The republics of this continent stand firm against the tyranny of the old world. And now I give you my guarantee. The people shall decree their fundamental laws. Not one man, not one party, nor one faction. Nothing but the will of the people is sovereign. That was the pinnacle, Boliva. You were very near the goal then. Then how was it that you who at twenty swore to free your people from oppression found yourself at forty-five ruling them with an iron grip? For at the last there was only one love you could be sure of, Boliva. Remember her? Manuela. And then that night in Bogota. That terrible night in the palace at Bogota. What are you looking at, Manuela? Why do you keep staring out of the window? I am watching them change the guard. There really ought to be more lanterns hung in the palace yard, dear. So dark I can hardly see. I never knew you would be nervous, dear. Such a strange city, Bogota. So ancient. And...and secret. Look at the lights. Glimmering clear to the sea. They're like all the mean little eyes. Watching. Watching till your back is turned. Let them watch, Manuela. See, I turn my back. Oh, I hit something there. Come, Manuela, my look is in my hands. And so are the rest of the conspirators. A mere signal from me would exterminate them all. But do you think I'd do it? They'd do it. Let them. I'm tired, Manuela. It's evil for any man to rule alone, Manuela. And evil for the people to obey him. I pity them both. Open the window wider. It's too dark to see. It looks like soldiers. No. It's a mob. Surely it can be. It is. Now they're lighting torches. Look, they're running toward the palace. Manuela, light the candle. Where's my sword? You can't find them. You are ill. You'll be killed. My sword, dear. Where's my sword? Get away from that door. The window, you can't find them out like this. But I will. Not at all, dear. Open that door. I'm going to fight. You'll force me out of that window, you poor fool. Keep under the bridge, sire. I hear the mob coming. Cowering under a bridge. Up to my throat in water, sire. Let me go. Let me die as I've lived. Sire, I beg you, as you love God, stay with me. No! It's our soldiers. It's the veterans, sire. They're going to charge the mob. He's the verdict of the High Court. The leaders of the plot against you have been tried, Your Excellency, and sentenced to be shot. I commute the sentence to exile. And General Santander, Your Excellency? Did he plead guilty? No, Your Excellency, but it was not difficult for us to find him guilty. We have condemned him to be shot. I commute the sentence to exile. And I too condemn myself to exile. For I have weighed myself and found Bolivar wanting. There is no man in the world who is worthy to rule by his own will. No matter how pure his purpose, the dictator must always fail. Thank you, Paul Muni, for appearing again on the cavalcade of America and for your stirring portrayal of the great liberator, Simone Bolivar. And now we bring you Dupont's weekly story of chemistry at work in our world. Standing on your head right now is a column of air 30 miles tall, maybe 150. Air is mysterious stuff. 60 miles up and at the green search lights of the northern lights fade and flare on crisp nights. Some of this very program is waltzing and hopping around up there now on its way to you. Then a little lower, there's the stratosphere comparatively warm. Six miles above us, where the clouds stop, the air is thin and cold. Down around us, the air we breathe is thick and heavy. The heavy air we breathe is a mixture of gases, mostly nitrogen and oxygen with traces of argon, carbon dioxide, hydrogen, neon, and other gases including ozone, the one you smell after a lightning flash. To the chemist, air offers an inexhaustible supply of raw materials more than we can use in billions of years. The chemist uses air as one of the ingredients in making fertilizers, nylon, plastics, antifreeze compounds, any number of things that contribute to our comfort, happiness, and well-being. And there isn't any danger that we'll ever run out of air. If we used a million tons of it a year, we'd still have enough to last us for five billion years. At Bell, West Virginia, there's a DuPont plant that looks like a steel frame office building without walls. One of its chief raw materials comes into it through a pipe, plain air. Drawn into the plant, the air is blown through a bank of red-hot coke. The oxygen in it combines with the carbon of the coke and the bulk of the gas remaining is nitrogen. At night, the plant looks like a weird garden of orchids. Every few minutes with the regularity of old faithful, roaring guises of pale lavender gas shoot up from the great valves. But the flowers of burning gas are for poets. The chemist is interested in the gases themselves. He's interested in nitrogen because it fertilizes our fields. DuPont chemists use nitrogen to make nitrogen-bearing fertilizer compounds. The chemist is interested in nitrogen too because we're moving into an age of plastics and many plastics are nitrogen compounds. Gas is taken from the air glow in the sky signs of America at night. Other gases from air go into things as far apart as motorboat fuel and vat dyes. Superficial dyes that ran were used in dyeing textiles until quite recently. In modern vat dyeing, DuPont dyes that are virtually colorless in themselves flash into radiant beauty penetrating the innermost fibers of a fabric. When they react with oxygen, the chemist has taken from the air and concentrated in other chemicals used with the dyes. From the air over our heads, the chemist manufactures gases, liquids and solids. In the words of the DuPont pledge, better things for better living through chemistry. Next week, the Cavalcade of America comes to you from Radio City in Hollywood. Kay Francis will be our star in a radio play adapted from a best-selling novel Waters of the Wilderness by Shirley Seifert. A romantic story of frontier days. Of the lovely sister of the Spanish governor at the old trading post of St. Louis and the great American explorer George Rogers Clark. Our drama tonight was adapted for radio by Robert Tallman from an original play written by Dudley Nichols. The orchestra and the original musical score were under the direction of Don Burry. Before we close, we would like to express our appreciation to Radio Daily for the honor they have given the Cavalcade of America in the first annual Harper & Brothers Award for Outstanding Writing in the Radio Field. On the Cavalcade of America, your announcer is Clayton Collier sending best wishes from DuPont.