The Cavalcade of America presented by DuPont. This evening the DuPont Cavalcade of America presents a tribute to National Music Week. All over the country, orchestras, choruses, and smaller groups are honoring music in general and American music in particular. Probably no part of our country has inspired a greater wealth of melody than the South, and its music is sung, played, and enjoyed by all America. Ask a DuPont research chemist about the South, and he will tell you that from the southern states come a great many materials which he uses in his work. For America's agricultural Southland is indeed a true partner of research chemistry. In its efforts to reach the goal described in the DuPont pledge, better things for better living through chemistry. The singers heard on this evening's program are Maria Silvera Soprano, Abby Mitchell Contraldo, and the Southerners. The DuPont Cavalcade moves forward. Songs of the South, songs of the land of cotton, of big plantations, of magnolia trees, of moonlight, of mockingbirds. It was in the South that the first permanent settlement in America was established in Jamestown on Jamestown Island in Virginia in 1607. Tobacco brought good prices in England, and the broad fertile fields of the new colony yielded a rich harvest, but more hands were needed to work the fields. On a sunny spring morning in 1619, twelve years after the first settlement was established, a sailing ship makes its way towards an anchorage in the James River, a ship laden with a valuable cargo. On the shore, a group of settlers watch its progress. There, they've come about. They'll make the anchorage on this tack. Aye, the breeze is freshening. The ship is moving faster. We'll be letting go of our anchor in a few moments. The first shipload of African slaves. They'll sell for a good price, Thomas. Aye, and they'll be worth it if the stories are true. Big men, strong and good tempered. Yes, men who can stand the sun and work all day long. We need them in the tobacco fields. Will you be bidding at the slave market tomorrow? Of course, and so will every other landowner in the colony. Listen, that booming sound. Is it an Indian drum? A drum, but not an Indian drum. Strange sound. I've never heard the like of it. That sound comes from the ship. The breeze is carrying it to us. From the ship? Yes, it is. I don't understand. A drum on a slave ship. Do you hear that, Thomas? They're singing. The slaves are singing. The slaves singing? There can't be. But it is. Listen to them. I can't understand it. They've been taken from their homes in Africa and put on a ship. They've had a long, hard voyage without knowing where they were going. And now they sing. It's strange, Charles. It's strange. Aye, it is strange. But when we come to know them better, we may understand. The early Virginia colonists marveled at the fact that Negro slaves should sing the weird chants they brought with them from their native Africa. But the settlers soon learned that these slaves sang no matter what they were doing. They created their own music to fit the rhythm of all kinds of physical labor. They learned to speak English, and from their African tribal chants they fashioned many work songs. God would, God would, God would in morning. God would, God would, God would in morning. After the fields had been cleared and drained, the slaves were set to planting the crops. The cotton blossomed and ripened, and when it came time to harvest the snowy white crops, the slaves tackled the work with another song. The cotton needs picking so bad, oh the cotton needs picking so bad, oh the cotton needs picking so bad, want to clean all over this farm. When the cotton had been picked and cleaned and ginned, it was baled. The bales were carted to the nearest wharf to await the arrival of a boat on its way to market. Loading the heavy bales on the boat was a job that involved plenty of hard work and therefore plenty of singing. Watching and listening to such a scene, Stephen Foster was inspired to write one of his immortal songs, Roll Out Heaved-At Cotton. Roll out, heaved-at cotton, roll out, heaved-at cotton, roll out, heaved-at cotton, ain't that no mistake. There goes the last bale. Next week in Memphis, Tennessee, the annual Cotton Carnival will be celebrated with the crowning of King Cotton and all the other festivities which have made the event famous. In honor of the Cotton Carnival, Don Voorhees and the DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra present a special setting of the daddy of all blues songs, Memphis Blues, the tune which transformed the dance rhythms of the world. And we have a special surprise for you. W.C. Handy, famous Negro composer of Memphis Blues, is here with us. You know his music, not only Memphis Blues which came first, but Beale Street Blues, St. Louis Blues, and many other compositions. Professor Handy wants you to say a few words. Well, I'll say a very few words. I brought my trumpet along with me, and if you'll let me, I'll try to stay mine with music. That's fine. Here is Memphis Blues with the composer playing a trumpet solo. Thank you, thank you, Professor Handy. Memphis Blues certainly established a new, vogue in music. From the early days, the music of the South has inspired composers. Anton Dvorak chose a Negro spiritual melody as the dominant theme of his New World Symphony. Let's go back about eighty years and try to discover what life was like on a typical Southern plantation. Up the long winding driveway to the broad front porch of the big house. It's a bright moonlit night. The air is heavy with the scent of flowers. Let's tiptoe across the porch, into the front hall, and into the drawing room. A young man is seated at the piano. Standing beside him is a young girl singing. The young people's dreams are waken to me. Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee. The sounds of the road were heard in the day. Blood by the moonlight have all passed away. The beautiful dreamer, queen of my soul, this white eyed woman, who stopped me longing. And because of life's busy draw, beautiful dreamer, awaken to me. Beautiful dreamer, awaken to me. Oh, that was beautiful, Melissa. Beautiful dreamer is a beautiful song, Henry. It's a beautiful night outside. Let's walk back to the cabins and listen to the Negro sing. I'm not sure Daddy would like it, my going out walking with a man. But come on, we'll go softly. No, no, not that way. Out the back way. Come along. Oh, hey, it's dark here. Wait, now don't miss that step. Oh. Oh, now we can see. Oh, that moon is as bright as day. Come along, Henry. I want to stop at the first cabin and say how to do to my old man. All right. Is that the cabin, Melissa? Manny Callie is singing one of our grandchildren's songs. Listen to her. Oh, don't you fool me, child, no more. See the shadows, see the creep, shut your eyes and adore new people. Ta-na-ni goes asleep, Manny's a little poor, little brat, little sheep. You've been bad just to live long days. Poor, poor little fella. Throwing stones and running away. Now don't scold the poor little lady. Oh, do you show his running wild? Why, you look just like some poor folks child. Oh, no, don't you. Oh, sure do. She looks exactly just like me. Oh, but why'd you get them pretty big brown eyes? To give after his Manny. I reckon he did a dance. But honey, why'd you get them great big clumsy feet? Mm-mm, they're too big, ain't they? They sure is and they take right after yawn, too. Mm-mm, and they won't matter why. Oh, no, you ain't going to work Manny's baby. Well, Manny wouldn't take a million dollars for it. And she wouldn't give one cent to have another one just like me. The sea, the shadows, the guinness, the creep. Manny's little poor little black little sheep. Shh. Is that you, Miss Melissa, outside that window? Yes, ma'am, the carry. Is the baby asleep? Yeah, he is. And just in time, too. Because I've got to get me down to the church. Oh. Is you all coming down to the church this evening, Miss Melissa? I think so. Well, I've got to get along now. If I don't see no more, good evening to y'all. Good evening, Manny Callie. Shall we go down to that church, Henry? It's the old barn right over there. Daddy gave it to them to use. Yes, let's walk over. Come along, Melissa. They're singing and I always like to hear them. We'll just go in and stand at the back. All right, come on. Let the heaven light shine on me. All knowing the way to the other bright world. Let the heaven light shine on me. Amen. Amen. Now, sisters and brothers, won't be long before we get on back to our quarters. We've done had a great time here this evening. Yes, we have. The Lord has been with us. Yes, he has been with us. Hasn't he? Oh, and now before we go, I'm going to ask Sister Callie to lead us into baptizing him. You know, we've got to get ourselves ready for that great day when we'll see our maker face to face. Amen. You know, our hands must be clean. Hallelujah. And our hearts made white like the lilies of the valley. Peace of mind. All sing, Sister Callie. Lead me to that water. Everybody else sing. Lead me to that water. And lead me there, Father. Lead me to that water. Hallelujah. Amen. Praise be to the Lord. Lead me to that water. Thank you, Lord. Lead me to that water. Let's sing a holiday song. And lead me there, Father. Hallelujah. Amen. Glory. Hallelujah. Along in the 1840s, a new form of entertainment became popular. It was distinctly American, and it was to become popular all over the world. The minstrel show. In 1889, Haverly's minstrels were playing an engagement in London. This was for the most part a Negro troop, and the performers were homesick. In the mornings, they haunted the theater, waiting for letters and packages from home. Among them was a famous minstrel and man named James A. Bland. One morning, he arrives at the theater and finds two of his companions. Hello there, Jim Bland. What you doing down here at the theater this early in the morning? Same thing you are, Ruth. I'm looking for some letters from home. Well, you ain't gonna find them. Not yet awhile. It's too early for the mail to be in. How do you happen to be up so early, Ike? I've been walking my legs off out there in all that rain, trying to find something to eat. Man, I ain't had a square meal since we landed in this London town. Well, look at us. Does we look well-fed, Jim and me? Does you think we've been eating greens and cornbread along with nice big hunks of fat meat? I can't even find a place where they salt the meat they do, sir. And in the meantime, it keeps on raining. Sir, man, this weather's awful. It certainly is. We know it don't never rain like this in Virginia. Boy, I've seen it rain cats and dogs in Virginia in phase two. But not all day, every day like it does here. What you doing, Jim? I'm just trying to play the piano. It cheers me up sort of. Nothing could cheer me up here in London. You know, Ruth, I wish I was back in Virginia. Well, who don't? I never was in Virginia. They say it's a nice place. Jim, it's hell. And so is long as out of this town. I wish a charred fire would come along and pick me up and carry me back to Virginia. Wait. Say that again, Ruth. I didn't say nothing, except I wish a charred would carry me back to Virginia. Hmm. That's it. Carry me back to old Virginia. That's it. Now wait till I get the next phrase. Let me see. It ought to start like this. Mmm. Tita-twa. Pum, pum, pum. Tita-twa. Does one of us wobble sweet in the springtime? Does why it's so dark in the autumn, fall to go? So in 1889, James A. Bland, an American Negro minstrel man in London, wrote Carry Me Back to Old Virginia, a southern song that will live through the ages. Many composers have been inspired by the rhythms and harmonies of the Southland. The score of that great musical comedy Showboat is only a few years old, and yet in some of its selections we find the spirit of the old South. The melodies are new, all of them. But when he wrote Old Man River, Jerome Kern gave the world a new composition which combines the spirit of the old Negro work songs and the Negro spirituals. Old Man River. There's an old man called Mississippi, that's the old man that I'd like to be. What does he care if the world's got trouble? What does he care if the land ain't free? Old Man River. That old man River. He must know something, but don't say nothing. He just keeps rolling, keeps on rolling along. Just keeps rolling along. It don't blend tater. It don't blend cotton. But dim that treasure, listen for a sudden. But Old Man River, yes, keeps rolling along. You and me, we sweat and strain. Body all aching and whack with pain. Turn that by. Lift that veil. And you'll land in jail. All gears weary. I'm sick of trying. I start off living and fear of dying. But Old Man River, he says, keeps rolling along. The South salutes His Majesty King Cotton in the carnival to be celebrated next week in Memphis. And DuPont joins the whole world of chemistry in acknowledging the debt it owes the South for giving us cotton. Last year alone, DuPont used over 63 million pounds of cotton and cotton linters in making scores of useful products developed through chemical research. Cotton, you know, is one of chemistry's principal sources of cellulose. From cotton cellulose, DuPont chemists create a durable, glossy, duco finish, which cuts the time required to finish an automobile from days to hours. And when you look through the shatterproof windshield or window of your car, you're looking through cotton. For safety glass is really a sandwich, two pieces of plate glass with a sheet of transparent cellulose plastic made from cotton in between. Among the dozens of products made of DuPont cellulose plastics are fountain pen barrels, pyrrolein toilet ware, combs, scuffless heel coverings for women's shoes, and boxes of all kinds, decorative costume jewelry, translucent lampshades, and many more articles, including the humble toothbrush handle. Additional products that cotton and DuPont chemists have made possible include a seal, acetate rayon yarn, Fabrikoid, textile fabrics coated with cotton cellulose solution, widely used for book bindings, upholstery, handbags, and luggage, Tontine, washable window shades, cleanable table cloths, and household mending cement. And when you go to the movies or enjoy a day with your camera, you owe a debt to cotton chemistry too. For all photographic films, including X-ray, employs a base made from cotton cellulose. These useful products and many more come to us from the cotton field through the chemical laboratory. Even this doesn't tell the full story of cotton and chemistry by any means, but it gives some idea of how important cotton with the help of chemistry is to you. DuPont chemists are constantly carrying on cotton cellulose research, thereby promising still more interesting and diversified uses for cotton in the future and added sources of income for the cotton grower. Thus cotton will continue to play an important part in the research chemists' constant efforts to provide, as DuPont expresses it, better things for better living through chemistry. The story of dynamite, incidents in the life of its inventor Alfred Nobel and its development in America, will be the subject of our broadcast when next week at the same time DuPont again presents the Cavalcade of America. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.
