 Cavalcade of America, presented by DuPont. This evening we present high spots in the career of one of the first American operatic stars to gain prestige for Native-born American singers, Madame Lilian Nordica. Even as late as the early years of the 20th century, American singers were without honor in their own country. European training and indeed a foreign name were unwritten requirements for a vocalist aspiring to operatic or concert fame in the United States. In many of the arts and sciences, recognition of American genius was slow in arriving. For many years, for instance, some people felt that the most progressive and successful research chemist were those of Europe. Today, however, in laboratories throughout the United States, valuable contributions to our comfort and well-being are being perfected continually. Some of these contributions take the form of new products. Some are improvements on existing products. But all of them represent the kind of service which research chemistry renders everyone. Service whose objective is described in the DuPont Pledge. Better things for better living through chemistry. The part of Lilian Nordica will be sung by the well-known American soprano, Agnes Davis. Winner of the first Atwater Kemp radio contest and graduate of the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia, Miss Davis is a true example of Madame Nordica's faith in American-born and American-trained singers. Lilian Norton was born on May 12th, 1859, in the little village of Farmington, Maine. Her exceptional voice was discovered when she was a child and her parents moved to Boston to give her the advantages of a musical education. When she was 17 years old, she had been engaged as a church soloist in Boston, which in the opinion of her parents and of her preacher grandfather was the pinnacle of success for the young girl. Lilian and her mother and father are in the sitting room of their modest home as Professor O'Neill, her music teacher, enters. Mr. Norton, a great opportunity has come to your daughter, but there's no time to lose every minute of this afternoon counts. What do you mean, Professor? What is it, Professor O'Neill? You've heard doubtless that the great European tenor, Brignolet, is singing tonight at Bombstead Hollow. Professor O'Neill, we are not interested in concerts or the theater. But you don't understand. The female soloist who came from New York to appear with Brignolet has been taken ill, and Brignolet is tearing his hair with anxiety. He must have an assisting artist, and several people who have heard Lilian sing in church have suggested that she appear with him tonight. They've suggested me. You mean you want my daughter to stand on a stage and sing? It's the opportunity of a lifetime. Oh, Father, please. It's the chance I've dreamed of. Mother understands, don't you, Mother? Yes, Lily, I understand. But you see, Professor O'Neill, we've always been taught to believe that a concert hall or a theater was wicked. Well, forgive me, Mrs. Norton, if I say that in my opinion, it is still more wicked for you to bury Lilian's talent. She has real talent, you know. Yes, I believe she has. The man of Norton with your own father in the next room preparing his sermon. You are pleading with me to let your daughter make a spectacle of herself in a concert hall. I am no longer preparing a sermon. Oh, Father. There's noise enough in this house to wake the dead. Grandfather, did we disturb you? What is happening here? Father, this is Lilian's music teacher, Professor O'Neill. My father, Reverend John Allen. How do you do, Reverend Allen? How do you do, sir? Well, Mr. Norton, I'm sorry. If this is your final decision, I must go and tell the committee to look elsewhere for a soloist. What decision? Lilian's teacher has come here to ask if she might sing in a concert hall tonight. Grandfather, do you think it's so very wicked? No, Norton has ever set foot in a concert hall. It's wicked to attend and doubly wicked to sing on the platform. Well, why would it mean so much to you to sing there, Lily? Oh, it would be such a great honor to appear with Brignoli. I'm sorry, Lily. Perhaps another chance will come someday. I must go. Wait, Professor O'Neill. Do you too think this is an honor for my granddaughter? Indeed I do, Reverend Allen, or I should not be here. Lilian is my most talented pupil. What? Father Allen, you don't mean you think my decision wrong? Not wrong, perhaps, Edwin, but, well, hasty. Will you abide by my judgment in the matter? Why, certainly. You are a minister of the gospel. Will Lily have to speak any words on that platform? Oh, no, no, Grandfather, I'll only sing. Well then, Lily is not an actress. She is a singer, whether it be in church or in a hall. To my way of thinking, it's only acting that's wicked. Oh, Grandfather, then I can sing tonight. I'm only your grandfather, child. Father, may I please go? I said I'd abide by your grandfather's decision. No successful was Lilian Norton's debut at Bumpstead Hall in 1876 that the tenor Brignoli advised her going to New York City for more intensive training. She saved every penny, and after a season with Patrick Sarfield Gilmore's concert band, she went to Milan, Italy to continue her musical education with her devoted mother as companion. Now at last, in 1879, she is 20 years old, she approaches another turning point in her career. Oh, Mother, I can't believe it's true. At last I'm to appear in opera. Even if it is a tiny little opera house in Braistia, I'm so happy for you, dear. I wonder who's calling at this hour. Oh, Signior San Giovanni, come in. Mother, it's my teacher. Oh, good afternoon, Signior San Giovanni. Buongiorno, Signior Norton. Signiorina, I have a new report. Signior San Giovanni, you seem excited. Or something happened. Don't tell me something's gone wrong about my debut. I've been so happy all day. It is about your debut I have come, Signiorina. Tell me, what is it? I have forgotten the most important matter, Signiorina. You cannot make your first appearance in opera without American name, Norton. I can't use my own name. No, no, no, no. It would be fatal to your hope, Signiorina. You must adopt an Italian name. Oh, Mother, did you hear that? Why, my revolutionary ancestors would turn over in their graves to find a Norton from Maine disguised as an Italian. No. Gillian, I believe that Signior San Giovanni is right. You know that people don't believe a singer is a true artist unless he comes from Europe. It is true, Signiorina. Why do you come to me to study with me? There are music teachers in America. Why do you, an American, wish to make your debut here in Italy? Is it not because even in your country people think more of you if you study here? Yes, it's true, but it's made me angry ever since I was a little girl. Well, I know I had to come here to study to impress them back home, but I still don't see why I have to pretend I'm an Italian. Gillian, I wasn't going to tell you this before your debut, but now I think I'd better. Tell me what, Mother? I received a long letter from your father today. Why didn't you tell me? Because it contains some unpleasant news, dear. What? He says that... Well, he says that every Norton in Maine is stressed at the prospect of your singing on the stage. What? He says that they all agreed that... that you'll disgrace the family name forever. A disgrace? Did you say to sing opera a disgrace? Oh, I'm sorry, Lily. I didn't want to tell you. You've been away from home for several years. You've forgotten how they feel about the theater or even a concert hall. And I've given up everything. Saved my money. Worked from morning to night to make a name for myself, and now my relatives say I'm disgracing them. Oh, it isn't fair! I have thought of a beautiful name. Nordica. Nordica? See, see, it means from the north. Ah, the beautiful Lily of the north they will call you. Nordica. All right. That letter settles it. For this day, I'll be Lily and Nordica. But, Mother, someday the Nortons in Maine will be proud of me. Oh, Lily Norton became Lily and Nordica and made her European debut in the role of Violetta and the opera La Traviata. Many years after her successful debut, Lily and Nordica was known as a dependable singer with an amazing repertoire, but her ambition was not satisfied. So far, no American had ever sung at Bayreuth, where each spring the Wagnerian Music Festival was held under the auspices of Frau Cosima Wagner, widow of the great German composer. After securing letters of introduction to Frau Wagner, in 1892, Lily and Nordica is granted a personal interview. Wagner's son Siegfried ushers her into his mother's studio. Mother, here's the American singer, Madame Nordica, to see you. I am happy to welcome you to Bayreuth, Mother Nordica. It is a great privilege to meet you, Frau Wagner. Your son has told me how busy you are, so I'll tell you at once the reason for my visit. Frau Wagner, I've come here from Paris to make a request. It may startle you. Yeah, Mother Nordica, what is it? Frau Wagner, I wish to sing the role of Elze in Lowendon. What? What's my dear young lady? Lowendon has not yet been presented here at Bayreuth. Forgive me if I say that when we do present this opera, our soprano, our Elze, must be the most famous operatic star in Germany in all Europe, in fact. No American has ever sung at Bayreuth. It would shock the whole world. Oh, I understand that. I know, too, that you've never heard of me. Well, I'm not even famous in my own country. Fame at home comes last to American singers. I'm achieving success at a tortoise-like pace for our Wagner. I work and study every minute of every day. Oh, I believe in hard work. That's why I beg you. Give me a chance to prove myself, to study the role of Elze with you. We have always believed here at Bayreuth that only native-born German singers could interpret the roles of the master. Do you know our German language, Mother Nordica? Not a word here, Wagner. Why? But I swear to you that I'll study and master your language within a few months. Forgive me if I ask you. Can you sing, Mother Nordica? I'm not surprised that you're asking me. Will you hear me, Frau Wagner? My mother has another appointment. That appointment can wait, Siegfried. Will you sing a few bars of an aria, Mother Nordica? My son will accompany you at the piano. Good pleasure, Frau Wagner. May I have some traviata? Yeah, so. But I like your voice. I'll give you a try. Oh, you'll never regret it. On one consideration. First, you must prove to me that you have mastered our German language. And then, about Elze, we shall see. Frau Wagner, I go to take my first German lesson today. I won't lose a minute. And thank you. William Nordica appeared at the home of Frau Wagner three months later to prove her mastery of the German language. Frau Wagner agreed to her personally. And Nordica appeared at Bayreuth in 1894 as Elze and Lowengren, the first American to sing at this historic festival. She had a cheater goal. She was soon world famous. But what she considered her greatest personal triumph did not come until some years later when she returned to her native state, Maine, to sing in concert. Now, in her dressing room, at the conclusion of the first recital in Maine, she hears a timid knock at the door and opens to see a group of men and women. Madam Nordica, you probably don't remember most of us. I'm Martha Norton, your third cousin from Farmington. You sing just like a bird, Madam Nordica. I'm Ezra Norton from Bangor. And I'm Sophie Norton from Bangor. Oh, Madam Nordica, it was real nice hearing you sing. The Nortons of Maine. Oh, come in, please, come in. Well, we're not aiming to take up much of your time, Madam Nordica, but we thought, well, just maybe. You could show us that crown of diamonds Queen Victoria gave you. Yes, and we've been reading in the papers that the Tsar of Ruche gave you diamond and sapphire bracelets. Is that the one you got on your arm now, Madam Nordica? Oh, I know. I'm sorry, but that bracelet and the crown of diamonds are in a vault in New York. Madam Nordica. Yes. I represent the worldwide syndicate. I want to write a story about your return to Maine. You were born in Farmington, weren't you? Yes, I'm Jiminy Critch, little Lily Norton. Well, well, you turned out to be a right fine-looking woman. I'm a Norton from Farmington, and I want to tell you the Nortons of Maine are proud of you, Lily. Lily Norton. I've waited 20 years to hear someone call me by my own name. Oh, I'm so tired of hearing Madam Nordica from morning to night. Lily Norton at last. Oh, thank you. But why in Tarnation did you ever dress yourself up with that high-sounding foreign name, Lily? Well, I dressed myself up with that foreign name because there was a time when you Nortons were so proud of me. Yes. Yes. A few people back home decided I was disgracing the family name by appearing on a stage. That's a great story, Madam Nordica. May I use that? If you want a story for your newspaper, I'll tell you a better one. I've just purchased 20 acres of land at Oddsley on the Hudson, and I'm planning to establish an American byrode. Byrode? Watch that, Lily. An American Institute of Music. For years, I've regretted the fact that Americans don't respect their own singers. Well, I think I've helped prove to the world that there are good voices in America. Now I want to prove to the world that America has music teachers as talented as any in Europe. Hey, that's a front-page story, Madam Nordica. Oh, Madam Nordica, fiddle sticks. You've always been Lily Norton to me, and you always will be. That's right, Jeb. But I ain't here to sing yet, Lily. I got here too late for your show tonight. Will you sing a song now, Lily? Oh, come on. A song for the Nortons of Maine? Well, I certainly will. If you let me play my own accompaniment. Well, there's only one song I'm capable of singing now. Have you got them foreign words? Do it, Lily. Oh, it has not. It's a song you know as well as I do. But I think it means even more to me than it does to you. Is it her carrying out her dream of founding an American Institute of Music? But other Americans, inspired by her brilliant career and by her wholehearted belief in the talent of native-born artists, have carried on her plans. As a pioneer in preaching the doctrine that American music teachers and vocalists are as capable and talented as the musicians of Europe, she is accorded a place of honor in the cavalcade of America. We're in Dupont Central Research Laboratory at Wilmington, Delaware. We hear a buzzing, spluttery sound. Let's step into this room and find out what it is. A bright blue flame pierces the semi-darkness and casts weird leaping shadows on the face of a man bending over a long box-like instrument. Both light and sound come from a carbon arc attached to the apparatus, which is called a spectrograph. If you've marveled at the exploits of Sherlock Holmes or Philo Vance, just wait till this machine starts detecting. The spectrograph detects the presence of metallic elements. It seeks out traces of metals even the rarest, faintest to defy chemical analysis. The presence of lithium, for example, can be detected in most materials, even though it exists in only one part in 10 million. As for gold, copper, tin, lead, silver, and the like, well, they haven't a chance to remain undiscovered with a spectrograph on the job. Let's move closer and watch. The operator has some tiny grains of grit strained from an experimental batch of a new paint, and another DuPont laboratory has found unusually promising except for a slight grittiness. Find what that grit is, and the remedy should soon follow. As the operator dabs the grit on the carbon arc, the light flares brightly. Squinting through a tiny opening, we see a whole range of gorgeous colors dancing about. Now the man at the instrument explains, the light given off by the burning compound passes through a prism, which breaks it up into different colors. These colors arrange themselves in parallel bands, a kind of artificial rainbow which is then reflected upon a photographic plate. When the photograph is developed, we can tell what impurity our compound contains. For each metallic element having its own wavelength or color shows up in a definite position on the plate. And here's the picture now. See those black lines? That grit in the paint under examination is silicon. It left its fingerprint and the spectrograph acted down. Even invisible gases can be detected this way. Equipment of this kind helps ensure the quality of every chemical product made by DuPont. It is also valuable in analyzing new materials for possible use in improving existing products or creating entirely new ones. Such research aids enable DuPont chemists to serve you better in their constant efforts to provide better things for better living through chemistry. National Park's pioneers, episodes in the lives men who discovered and helped develop our great system of national playgrounds, thereby conserving natural wonders of our country for prosperity, will be the subject of the broadcast when next week, at this same time, DuPont again presents the Cavalcade of America. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.