The Cavalcade of America presented by DuPont. Music This evening the DuPont cavalcade tells of the annexation of one of the largest areas of American territory. The story of the Louisiana Purchase. In so doing, Cavalcade not only salutes the vast territory of that old Louisiana, but particularly the Louisiana of today with its thriving metropolis of New Orleans. Now a modern city of half a million people, where the old French tradition has been transmuted into 20th century progress. The development of our country's natural resources in this territory has been fostered in no small degree by the research chemist, whose contributions to the comforts and conveniences in our everyday life are aptly summed up in the DuPont pledge, better things for better living through chemistry. Music From Victor Herbert's operetta Naughty Marietta, a romance of New Orleans in colonial days, Don Voorhees and the DuPont Cavalcade Orchestra play, Neath the Southern Moon. Music Music Music Music Music Music Music Music Music The DuPont Cavalcade moves forward. Originally discovered by the Spanish, a vast territory west of the Mississippi was later claimed by the French and named Louisiana after Louis XIV. Under French rule, the city of New Orleans was founded and it soon became a center of New World commerce. In 1763, Louisiana was ceded to Spain by the French, who feared to have the rich territory fall into British hands. But New Orleans continued French in thought and ideals, and French leaders never gave up the hope that Louisiana would once again belong to France. In the fall of 1800, a special envoy is ushered into the presence of the Spanish king Carlos IV. Music Your Majesty. You may speak. In accordance with the instructions of Napoleon Bonaparte, my master and your ally, I am to inform your Majesty that in return for bestowing upon your Majesty's son-in-law the kingdom of Etruria in Italy... Ah yes, Etruria. You said Etruria? Yes, your Majesty. In return for Etruria, it is expected that your Majesty will cede to France those holdings in North America known as Louisiana. Louisiana? Formerly settled and possessed by France and ceded to Spain. Your first counsel enjoys some exaggerated notions, quite out of proportion to the stature of the man. Your Majesty vents a strong opinion on a poor envoy. What message would you have me carry the first counsel as regards the transfer of the territory in question? A transfer? A quarter of the American continent in return for a worthless kingdom for a worthless son-in-law? Etruria. I'd not have asked a favor if I'd known the price would be this. Still I suppose you'd have found some other way of laying his hands on the territory. Am I right in supposing that Talleyrand has been interesting your master in a program of colonization? Your Majesty assumes too great knowledge in so humble a servant of the Republic. Ah. Well, let it be so. Go, take Louisiana home to your master. I will bear this news to France. Wait. There is a condition. A condition? So? News of this must remain secret for at least a year or two. I shall mention it to my master. A formal treaty will induce time therein. Yes, yes. A secret treaty. Oh, by all means. Secret. Very well. You may leave me. The secret treaty was made, and on the American continent, even though there was no official announcement of the new ownership, the frontiersmen using the Mississippi River as a means of distributing their cotton, pork, flour, lumber, and other produce, noticed a change in the attitude of the authorities at New Orleans, which was a center from which their goods were shipped all over the world and even around to our own eastern coast. Early in the year 1802, a flatboat on its way to New Orleans loaded with farm produce ties up to a dock on the east bank of the Mississippi. All right. Keep that line there. You got it? All right. Where are you from, stranger? We're from Greenville. What's your cargo? I got a load of corn and some bacon. You hear they're paying good prices for bacon in Orleans. Nobody's worrying about prices in Orleans no more. What do you mean? We can't land in Orleans now without paying big money, not even for reshipping. What do you mean? Big money? Well, they say the French have taken over the town all around there. French? Many are still supposed to be in charge, but they're taking orders from the French. Some say the French own the place. Hey, come aboard, stranger. I want to hear about this. All right. My name's Ed Hawkins. Mine's Bill Joyce. Howdy. I'm glad to know you. I had a cargo bound for Orleans, too. What'd you do with it? Throw it in the river. Don't catch me paying a tax for landing my stuff at Orleans. There's no profit in throwing your goods away. I know, but there ain't none in selling the stuff when you figure the cost of putting it ashore. Besides, there's the principle of the thing. I'll be skinned if ever I pay a cent of duty to those Spanish port authorities. Well, don't blame you. I'll fight first. That's what I'll do. There's going to be trouble along this here old stream. The folks in this valley is getting riled up. Well, boys, I guess we might as well put right back to Greenville. You mean it, Ed? Yeah, it's only 600 miles or so. That's a long way to pull the sheer bogs with a full load on. Well, Sam, we'll just ask the river to turn roundabout. We'll float on up back to Greenville. Look here, joking aside, there's going to be trouble. Just wait till my country up there hears about this. I'm a little ahead on my trip. I got started down for the rest of them. We'll meet some of the others on our way back, I reckon. And wait till they hear the news. Brother, you're right. There's going to be trouble. There's going to be some fighting. Well, that's the way I feel. Napoleon may be a big man. Her tally is, but I reckon he ain't big enough to lick a bunch of straight-shooting backwoodsmen out in their right to land some corn and bacon at the mouth of the big river. Oh, this river's ours. And no one's going to say we can't go on it where we like. It's a long way to pull that barge. To the American frontiersmen, this problem of the freedom of the river seemed a simple matter. A little unorganized skirmishing against the greatest military genius of all time would settle everything. But to President Thomas Jefferson, himself something of a backwoodsman, who had closest to his heart the interests of westward pushing America, the matter was not so simple. We find President Jefferson discussing the situation with his Secretary of State, James Madison. It's one thing, Madison, for a weak nation like Spain to hold Louisiana. But in the hands of Bonaparte, with his idea of conquering the world, I don't have to tell you how fatal it would be to the commerce our new west is sending down the Mississippi. France hasn't taken possession of yet. We must make some move before actual possession is taken. For years this problem has perplexed me. When our Secretary of State, General Washington, I approached both France and Spain to see whether we might not acquire the city and island of New Orleans, or someplace near the mouth of the Mississippi where we could establish a port. Now, if we could only persuade the French government to grant us certain lands or territorial rights, Bonaparte is the French government. As you say, he's mad for empire. He'd never give it up. I must write to Livingston again. As our minister, he might broach the subject once more. I'll prepare a letter to him at once. Robert Livingston is diplomatic. He's well-liked in France. He might achieve what we're after. Oh, yes, Louis. I want to prepare a letter to Minister Livingston. Oh, is anyone waiting to see me? Yes, sir. There's a messenger from the west, from Natchez. He arrived some little time ago and seemed in an urgent frame of mind. I told him that you were engaged and might not be able to see him. From Natchez, eh? In an urgent frame of mind. I'll see him. Yes, sir. And this letter just came for you. Oh, thank you. From Monsieur DuPont in New York. Will you see the messenger now, sir? Just a moment. Monsieur DuPont is leaving for France. We shall miss him. Young Victor DuPont? No, the father, Pierre Samuel. A fine gentleman and a good friend. DuPont could give us good advice on this Louisiana situation. He knows Talleyrand well. And Talleyrand's bone apart right-hand man. And he knows Morbois, the Minister of Finance, also. Well, send a man from Natchez in, Louis. Yes, sir. Come in, please. Thank you. Well, sir? Mr. President, I'm Bill Joyce from Natchez. I'm glad to see you, Mr. Joyce. This is Mr. Madison, my Secretary of State. I do. You have important news from Natchez, Mr. Joyce? That I have, Mr. President. The countryside is up in arms out our way. We're planning to float down the river and assert our rights. What rights, Mr. Joyce? Our rights to land stuff at Orleans, free of charge. You see, Mr. President, the trouble has started already. We aim to wring Napoleon by the neck. I heard tell he's a big man where he comes from. But I bet he ain't big enough to keep us farmers and trappers from floating our stuff down the river and unloading it free at Orleans. Is that what you've come here to tell us, Mr. Joyce? It's not alone me, Mr. President. It's everyone down my way. My instructions are to tell you that either the government does something about this here situation or else us folks are going to do it ourselves. Declare war on the shore by yourselves, is that it? You can't say it's how we'll trouble to declare war. Won't have to. Them Frenchies will know it's war all right when they see the hull of the Mississippi Valley pouring into New Orleans. At least wise they'll make a pretty good guess it's war. Mr. Joyce, if you'll listen to my advice, you'll go back to Natchez and tell the folks there that war would be the last thing in the world to men matter. They'd be fighting the strongest troops in the world, led by one of the smartest generals who ever lived. This whole situation's been on my mind constantly for months. Don't you aim to do something for us, Mr. President? Can't I tell them that? I intend to do my best. But that will only be possible if you refrain from premature action. Do you understand? Well, just as long as you're planning to do something, I'll tell the folks we'd better wait a little longer. That's better. Well, we'll be very much obliged if you can do something, Mr. President. And thank you. Good day, sir. Good day, Mr. Joyce. Good day. There must be no war with France. Any war would be disastrous. But France is always on the verge of war with England. And the day Bonaparte takes official possession of Louisiana, we become allies of the British fleet. A choice of two evils. I've been thinking, Madison. I believe I'll write to Dupont. A letter should reach him in New York before his departure for France. I'll ask him to act unofficially for me. Calehran will listen to him and perhaps can be convinced that the resentment he owes against us was not caused by any act of my administration. Dupont can suggest how highly I value a state of friendship between ourselves and France. He can also suggest how unwise it would be for Bonaparte to take possession of Louisiana without ceding New Orleans or some similar spot. And in the meanwhile, Livingston can present our case officially. You mean to threaten Bonaparte? Not threaten. Just suggest. If England joins us, France would be swept from the seas. And she would inevitably lose not only New Orleans, but the whole territory of Louisiana. Jefferson's letter, written on April 25, 1802, was received by Pierre Samuel Dupont on the eve of his departure for France. He talks it over with his son Victor in the New York quarters. I am worried, Victor, frankly worried by Mr. Jefferson's letter. You and I know that it would be impossible for France to hold Louisiana by force against the combined power of the United States and the English fleet. But the out-dated young soldier like Bonaparte will be more offended when moved by this argument. What would your reply be to the argument, give me this country or we will take it? I would reply, we will defend it certainly. And then all the misfortunes President Jefferson wished to avoid would take place at once. I would like to be able to help our President Victor. My greatest happiness would be to serve the country that has received us so hospitably. If Mr. Jefferson could make some proposal to France without threat. For instance, a pledge to help France recover Canada from England in exchange for ceding Louisiana. That would mean war too. There must be some method of persuading France into an amicable relinquishment of its property. Bonaparte needs money more than he does land. That's it. This should be treated as a commercial transaction. The United States should offer to buy Louisiana. But Mr. Jefferson will argue that the United States cannot afford to make so large a payment. A war would in the end cost far more than the amount of money France would ask for the whole territory of Louisiana. I'll write to Mr. Jefferson at once. The sooner he makes an offer the better. The longer one bargains the worse the bargain one makes. Pierre Samuel Dupont's letter to Jefferson written on April 30th, 1802, was the first proposal so far as records show that the United States should think of buying all of the Louisiana territory. After extended correspondence between the two men, Jefferson instructed Robert Livingston to propose the purchase of at least some part of Louisiana. In France, Dupont continued in Jefferson's confidence, and as a result of his unofficial talk with Marbois and the others, was optimistic on the outcome while Livingston was pessimistic. Meanwhile, the frontiers went on the Mississippi became increasingly restless, and Jefferson realized that he must move quickly to avoid a break. He therefore appointed James Monroe to act as his minister for the potentiary and envoy extraordinary. Shortly after Monroe's arrival in France, Napoleon Bonaparte is found arguing with Talleyrand as minister of foreign affairs, and Barbara Marbois is minister of finance. Enough, Talleyrand. Your schemes begin to bore me. But, sire, don Colossus of Spain has at last signed the order delivering Louisiana to France. Now, why not look towards the American continent and give up this trie with England? With England? Never. I am not satisfied with the army and treaty. They see now that this conqueror should have made greater demands on the English. They shall cross the channel. I must subdue the English. What say you, Marbois? I am in accord with you, sire. England will always be England's entire. Likewise, the Austrians and Russia. But the colonies across the sea have as yet no permanent character. You could make them French. Were you so inclined? The colonies across the sea are hard to hold. In Santo Domingo, two armies wiped out, one by the yellow pestilence, the other by that black devil Toussaint Louverture. These swarming troops rose like demons from the tall grasses and mowed my fighters down. An expansive little campaign. Much money went from our coffers on that venture. Do not remind me of it. Ah, bien. That was Santo Domingo. Count that as an experience. Louisiana is ours. Its inhabitants, most of them, are civilized. With some slight industry and farsightedness on the part of France, it could be developed into a most lucrative colony indeed. But with more than slight expenditure. No, I will not throw good money after bad. America does not interest me. Let the United States make me a definite offer and be it little enough to outfit 25 frigates of war, I shall take it. Would it perhaps interest you, sire, to know that a ship has arrived from America bearing a single notable passenger and a person of James Monroe, a favorite diplomat of the American president? And would it interest you to know further of a secret cargo? Gold is reported below deck, sire, by one whom I send secretly to discover. Gold I send secretly to discover. A bit of the financier suggests we should avail ourselves of some of that gold. I charge you, my boy, with favoring the United States in this matter. Now, if one might protest. Your wife is American. Enough, enough of your petty arguments. Gold below deck, eh? My boy, I commission you to treat with these gentlemen from the United States. Get what you can from them and give what you will of our American possessions. I am tired of thinking about them. Trust me to repair at least some of the damage to our treasury. An expensive lottery, this English royal bill. I will hear no more of that. I go to the Americans, sire. Sire, the loss of these American colonies will mean... Silence, Stalagm! What are a few American colonies compared with the conquest of England? So, according to Napoleon's wishes, his ministers bargained with the American representatives. And on April 30th, 1803, Talleyrand and Marbois meet with Monroe and Livingston for the final negotiation. Livingston is reading the treaty. The United States of America is to pay directly to France the sum of 60 million francs and to assume debts owed by France to American citizens, which are estimated at 20 million francs. Altogether about 15 million dollars in American money, Mr. Livingston. A fair price, eh, Mr. Monroe? It should be after our many hours of bargaining. It is a pleasure to bargain with you Americans. You are so sure of what you want. You are not a bad businessman yourself, Mr. Marbois. Eh, will you sign here, Mr. Monroe? There you are. Merci. And you, Mr. Livingston? Yes. Merci. Monsieur Talleyrand? Oui, monsieur. Ah. And I will sign here, monsieur. Mm. Louisiana is yours. We are all satisfied? Monsieur Talleyrand, what are the exact bounds of Louisiana? That, Mr. Marbois, I do not know exactly. From the Mississippi River, uh, westward. You must take it as we received it from Spain. At any rate, you have made a good bargain for yourself. Undoubtedly, you will make the most of it. It will be enough. Monroe, we can consider this the noblest work of our lives. From today, the United States takes its place among the powers of first rank. The Louisiana Purchase doubled the size of the young republic, extending its borders as far to the northwest as what is now the present state of Idaho. This was the start of an expansion that changed the United States from a small seaboard country to one of the great nations of the world. We salute the men who have made the great nation of the world. We salute the women who have made the great nation of the world. We salute the men who have made the Louisiana Purchase possible as valiant leaders in the cavalcade of America. Far-seeing as those leaders in the Louisiana Purchase were, even they never dreamed of the vast riches the earth's surface in parts of that territory. For nearly a hundred years, nature's treasure lay undiscovered. Then there were often moments like this. Hey, hey, did you hear what happened? What is it? What's all the excitement? Oil! Oil! They struck oil! Oil! Oil! Oil! Oil! Oil! Oil! Oil! Oil! Oil! Oil! Oil! Oil! The ethics of oil is to fight other conditions to find out what is behind it, and not what can be source of oil. The result was many costly failures. Less than one wild cat well in 50 turned out to be profitable. Today, however, science has taken much of the guesswork out of prospecting for oil. To determine wether or not oil may be present, engineers use an instrument called a seismograph, which records tremors that pass through the earth and they create many earthquakes that tell the story. Here is how they do it and why. First the crew drills a hole from 20 to 200 feet or more into the earth. A charge of dynamite is then lowered to the bottom of the hole and set off. The seismograph records the resulting vibrations on a graph, which gives the prospectors a picture of the geological structure down below. The part that DuPont chemists play in this scientific prospecting is to furnish a special type of dynamite for seismographic work that will act instantly and dependably deep down in the earth. In addition to explosives, the DuPont company provides a special electric blasting cap that acts within one ten thousandth of a second. If this underground blasting indicates the presence of oil-bearing strata, drilling the well begins. Unless the well turns out to be a gusher, chemistry also must be called upon to help get the oil out of the earth. This is done by what is called shooting the oil well. After the well is partially lined with steel tubing, cylinders full of nitroglycerin are lowered into the hole beyond the end of the tubing. Explosion of the nitroglycerin creates fissures that extend in every direction into the oil-bearing sand. This starts the oil flowing into the bottom of the well, and after that it's largely a matter of pumping the oil out. The DuPont company maintains local plants in important oil districts to supply the nitroglycerin so vital to the petroleum industry. In this story of chemistry's service to everyone who uses oil or makes a living from it, we see one more example of the DuPont company's pledge, better things for better living through chemistry. Noah Webster, the story of the maker of the first American dictionary who was called the nation's schoolmaster, will be the subject of the broadcast when next week at the same time DuPont again presents the cavalcade of America. This is the Columbia Broadcasting System.
