The Cavalcade of America presented by DuPont, maker of better things for better living through chemistry. Some years ago, Cavalcade's historian, Dr. Frank Monahan of Yale University, discovered a little known story of amazing significance in the development of civilization and of particular interest to Americans. Through Dr. Monahan's further research, Cavalcade is able to bring you that story tonight. It is an example of this nation's pioneering spirit in the achievements of aviation. It's about the first successful aerial flight in America by a Frenchman, Jean-Pierre Blanchard. Our play was written by Garrett Porter and starring in the role of Jean-Pierre Blanchard is Edwin Jerome of the Cavalcade Players. The orchestra and the original musical score are under the direction of Don Borey's. DuPont, maker of better things for better living through chemistry, presents Edwin Jerome as Jean-Pierre Blanchard on the Cavalcade of America. December 9th in the year 1792, the city of Philadelphia. In Doehler's Hotel, the tavern door opens, admitting a chilling blast of wind and a thin, dark stranger. Outside the doorway, a stagecoach driver and three husky porters struggle with a huge wicker basket painted blue and studded with spangles. Easy, easy my friend. Here is the innkeeper. He will help us. Welcome to my inn, stranger. Monsieur, I regret the inconvenience I caused, but your doorway seems to be too narrow for my basket. I'd say it's because your basket is too big. What is it that makes it so heavy? There is a balloon inside. A balloon. A balloon? But certainly my friend. Here, you see, it is a balloon as I say, all folded up. And what is a balloon? You have not heard what it is a balloon? Oh, well, then I have arrived in America just in time. You shall see my friend. You shall see me rise majestically from the earth and vanish into the clouds. You, you vanish into the clouds? Indeed, monsieur. But now that that is settled, I desire a room. Very well, sir, you will register in my book. Ah, but of course. Meanwhile, since your balloon is too large for my door, the stable might be a safe place for it. You mean to soil my beautiful machine in your stable, monsieur? The machine that is flown like a bird across the English Channel. Across the channel? Of course, monsieur. As you say, sir, of course, but in the stable, I assure you. Now be so kind as to go over to the desk. Ah, but of course, to the desk. Yes, and my lad. Yes, sir. As soon as it's in the barn, set your men to guard it and notify the constable, understand? Yes, sir. This one's a little bit, if I've ever seen one. Yes, sir. Come on, lads. All together now. The law requires me to ascertain your name, residence, and occupation. You will sign here, please. Ah, but of course, monsieur. Jean Pierre Blanchard, Ironhaut, citizen of France. So far so good, Mr. Allenhaut. What's your occupation? My name is Jean Pierre Blanchard, monsieur. B-L-A-N-C-H-R-R-D. Ironhaut is my occupation. Ironhaut. You know, it is derived from the Latin, hero, meaning air. I fly through the air in my balloon, you see? In that case, sir, I'm afraid I must ask you to pay in advance. Monsieur Blanchard. Huh? But yes, I am Jean Pierre Blanchard. And you, monsieur? Your host informed me I might capture, that is, find you here in a stable, monsieur Blanchard. I represent the city authorities of Philadelphia. Oh, well, I was fortunate enough to meet your good Dr. Franklin in Paris, monsieur. It was he who encouraged my ambition and invited me to come to America. Dr. Franklin's been dead and gone these two years or more. Alas, yes. I had hoped the one who drew the lightning from the clouds might live long enough to witness my first ascent to them in America. Eh? Well, now, this about Dr. Franklin does put a new light on the matter, I admit. Ah? But even so, you'll have to come along to the city council to straighten everything out. Oh, monsieur, I have not yet earned all these honors. I shall bring my heiress, doctor. That is to say, my balloon to your council, eh? Well, I don't know, sir, that that'll be necessary. But alas, my balloon, it is damaged, though not beyond repair. Could you recommend to me a competent sail-maker? Oh, sailboat, eh? In a way, yes. But I require a sail-maker to mend this rip you see here. It must be repaired if I am to fly. Oh, I can see that. Yes, sir, but first, about the council. Oh, yes, monsieur, of course. The official welcome. Well, let us go at once. But on the way, I would like to see a printer. Oh, yes, I must see a printer. Well, sir? You are a printer, monsieur? I see for yourself. Ah, good. Well, I wish 500 of these cards printed. Yes. Ah, so you're the balloon man. I've heard of you. Ah, yes. Well then, monsieur, I need 500 subscribes. Eh? Oh, yes, I'll have to give you 500. Ah, well, sir, I must see a printer. Well then, monsieur, I need 500 subscriptions at $5 each to cover the expenses of the balloon ascent I propose. Ah, $2500. Yes, monsieur. Ah, cost a mint of money, don't it? Oh, the spectacle is cheap at that. At any price. But the printing, combien? Ah, if I print them for you, it might hurt my business. Huh? Ain't possible to fly. I know Wilcox. Wilcox? Wilcox? Yeah, Wilcox. He tried to fly once. Oh? Out on the banks of the school, it was. Oh? He asked them to try it, unless it was the devil, as they say. Or what amount to the same thing, the American Philosophical Society. You? Uh, this Wilcox attempted an ascent in a balloon. One balloon, you say? Uh-huh. 47 of them tried together. 47? And when he got off the ground, he cut the balloon free with his knife. Come down quicker than he went up, I can tell you. Well, what else could the fool expect? Huh? But his whole procedure was wrong, my friend. Come, come. Print my subscription count. Here. I shall pay you as I pay the innkeeper in advance. Ah, well, I might, but it'll be five dollars. Oh, Monsieur, you drive a sharp bargain. That is the price of the subscription, but I suppose you must have it. And a free ticket? Oh, yes. Yes, yes, of course. And now I must tolly to the council. The thing is an outrage, a crime and a sin, gentlemen. An outrage against public morals, a crime because it amounts to suicide, and a sin because God meant the birds for the air and man for the ground. This infringes upon our vested rights as a common carrier, sir. We ask you, what will happen to the investment in stagecoaches if this Monsieur, or whatever he calls himself, Blanchard, sets up his absurd aerial vehicle? The council takes the matter under advisement. We the undersigned do hereby protest to his excellency, Governor Thomas Mifflin, against the proposed balloon ascent of Monsieur Blanchard, the said ascent being in defiance of all laws, scientific, philosophic and divine. Mr. Thomas Jefferson, Secretary of State, Excellency, as Minister of the Republic of France to the United States of America, allow me to intercede on behalf of my countryman, Monsieur Blanchard. Being at present in sanctuary at the regation of France because of danger to his very life and limb, Monsieur Blanchard craves audience with his Excellency George Washington, President of the United States. Believe me. Come in, Monsieur Blanchard. Come in. Thank you, Monsieur le President. It seems, Monsieur Blanchard, that we Americans do not understand your experiments. Ah, it is all very discouraging, Mr. President. I myself have become confused. In my own mind, you understand. Indeed? Yes. I had hoped you might explain it all to me, for I confess I understand it no better than anyone else. Oh, but it is all very simple, Excellency, very simple. If I could only explain the balloon to you, perhaps I might win your support. Tell me, what makes it go up? It is the gas called hydrogen, Monsieur. I obtain it by pouring oil of vitriol on iron filings in a huge retort. Oh. And then, you see, it is released and kills the balloon. It is lighter than air, you see, and so it rises. It is unbelievable. Oh, but not at all. Oh, no, no doubt. It is all true, Monsieur. I do not really doubt your words, sir. Still, I don't see how you stir it once it is up. Well, Monsieur, I have tried wind. I have tried all. But best of all are the different air currents at different levels. That may be very clear to an expert, Monsieur Bronshire, but to me, I... But, Excellency, it is simple, very simple. I throw off ballast to rise. I release gas to descend. Well, no doubt it will all seem perfectly clear when we see this remarkable ascent. Oh, you mean that I have won your Excellency's support, that I may proceed with my plan? Of course, Monsieur Bronshire. Oh, Monsieur. Get on with your arrangements. And if you encounter any more difficulties, refer your critics to me. I'll see that your opponents have denied the privilege of witnessing this marvel of the age. The city of Chester invites the great Monsieur Blanchard to land his machine here. A royal welcome is assured. Apply your wonder of the age to beautiful Lancaster, Monsieur Blanchard. Our town council will declare... Trenton, where our illustrious President George Washington routed the foes of liberty, begs Monsieur Blanchard to guide his balloon here. Do not fail, do you? To descend upon the fair city of Camden, Monsieur Blanchard, our citizenry is preparing for your arrival with all... Monsieur, when and where I land my balloon is in the lap of the gods of the wind. Monsieur Blanchard's aerial flight is positively fixed for Wednesday, January 9th, 1793, in the prison courtyard at 10 in the morning precisely, weather permitted. And remember, Monsieur Blanchard... Oh yes, Dr. O'Shea... Your pulse is 84 on the ground, we did at the climax of your offense. Of course. The difference will be of considerable interest, of course. Yes, of course. The balloon is grinding at the rock, Monsieur. Yes, yes, I shall disconnect the hydro agenda, but have you sent... Oh, it is 10 o'clock precisely, but where is General Washington? Let us check my equipment again, Francois. Let me see. Mr. Beech's barometer. Dr. Wistar's bottles to sample the upper air. Banette, refreshments, food. Ah, yes. Oh, Monsieur le President arrives. The President of the United States. Oh, it's you, Monsieur le President. Monsieur Blanchard, forgive me for being late. Oh, of course. You're more prompt than I. The car is fixed to the balloon, everything is in readiness. Everything, Your Excellency. And every roof and tree jambles, spectators must swear. Oh, yes, yes, Monsieur. You see, Monsieur, I was right. People have accepted you, here at least. But of course. But who knows where you will land or what reception is in store for you. And so against this unknown danger, I have prepared a document for your protection. Oh, and what is that, General Washington? A situation being without precedent, passport was the best thing I could think of. Oh? I trusted his objective. Oh, thank you. And goodbye, Mr. President. Goodbye. Good luck. With this, Monsieur, I hope to attain an altitude of one mile, God willing. Francois, leg l'usseur off. Immediately, Monsieur Blanchard. Francois, Francois, that little dog. He is trying to leap into the basket. Keep him away. I cannot send this dog and rope through, Monsieur Blanchard. Back, back little dog. Go away, away. Oh, mon Dieu, he jumped into the basket. Careful, Monsieur. Enough rope is ready. But the dog, the dog. No, no, no, no, Monsieur. Do not throw the dog. Keep him. Keep him. You are off. Ah, what a sight. You, you enjoy the ascent, little one? So easy and majestic. What is your name? You are an American dog, so you must have an American name. Jonathan. Two hundred fathoms up we are, Jonathan. Look, look, Jonathan. There is the Delaware River below us. You see? Oh, no, de fondue. No, no, no. Do not try to climb over the side of the basket. Here, here. I, I hold you up to see the white cloud over the city. You notice? Our ascent is faster and faster. Now then, my Jonathan, we have tossed away all our ballast. We are now at five thousand eight hundred and twelve feet. The highest level of the beautiful machine can go. We are a success, you and I. Yes, of course. Ah, you notice? Of course you don't. My pulse is faster, Jonathan. Eighty-four on the ground. Ninety-two at the climax of our experiment. Now, Jonathan, we open the valve. Have you noticed? Our descent is gradual and uniform. But to the east is a mist. To the south before us. Where shall we land? A few miles east of Woodbury, New Jersey, a few minutes before eleven o'clock on the morning of January ninth, seventeen ninety-four. Oh, oh. What's gotten into this mare, Martha? Look out, you're ever heard. A monster coming down from the cloud. Great Jehoshaphat, back, back. Land of Goshen. Push that, Maria. The devil's work surely. I'm coming right for the house. You'd seen what I see. You'd come running across like carrying your shoes in your hand too. To Shatsby. Joseph, I wouldn't shoot if I was you. No, Everard. What would you do then? Surround it. Take it alive, that's what. He's right, Joseph. The must get no good against the devil. And that must be the devil himself climbing out to that basket. Good day, my friend. Who and what be? Everard, you're a fool. I have jumped here, Blanchard. And here I'm up. I have just flown from Philadelphia in forty-five minutes. So? Talks like a man, Joseph. Not like I ever seen. And I've been cleared to Elizabeth town. Philadelphia's fifteen miles, stranger. Don't sound without reason. Go ahead and stand here, Blanchard, while I keep his attention. I'll spread out my brush. But tell me, where are your friends? Oh, come, come, you are not alone. No, oh thank heaven, I'm not alone at that. All right, lads, all together now. Now I take up your place. All right, lads, bring down the... Please, I said I'm a man. Now, let's have a look at him. Now look here. He does look like a human being, Everard. But of course, Monsieur. I am a human being like yourselves. Let me up, if you please. No, no, hang on to him, man. Don't let him get away. I have a paper here from General George Washington. Washington? Yes. I suppose he has lads. Yes. All right, where is it? It is here. Let me up. Here is Monsieur Le President's passport. Well, read it, my friends. Trouble, stranger, none of us can read. You mean you are all illiterate? I wouldn't know about that, stranger, but Everard's right. Tom, you forgot I have some school in. Let me read it. Oh, that's right. And my boy can read. Oh, then take this passport, my boy, and read, read. The bare hereof, Mr. Blanchard, a citizen of France, proposes to ascend in a balloon from the city of Philadelphia at 10 o'clock a.m. this day. You see? These are therefore to recommend to all citizens that they receive and aid him with that humanity and goodwill which may render honor to their country and justice to an individual so distinguished by his efforts to establish and advance an art in order to make it useful to mankind in general. Given under my hand and seal at the city of Philadelphia the ninth day of January 1793 and of the independence of America the seventeenth, sign George Washington. I'll be go, George Washington myself. All right, lads, all right, that's enough, that's enough. Well, Mr. Blanchard, General Washington says you're all right, you are. That's right. Thank you. I shall convey those sentiments to your president, monsieur, and now I should like you, all of you, to escort me to the nearest tavern where you are to be my guest. Oh, well, that'd be the tavern at Woodbury. Come on, lads, all of us carry a basket on our shoulders. One, two, three, four. Well, it has been very, very nice. Well, lads, the old woman and I knew right away what this thing was. It's a balloon, says I. Yes, says she. Glory be, says I. It's an age of marbles. Oh, those were marbles in my very words, Joseph. Yes. Well, you know, you know, it is fortunate, my friend, that I land in such an enlightened community. I am indeed fortunate. And now I ask of you, some of you, a favor. It is late and I must hurry back to the city. But before I go, I would like you to sign this deposition that I did indeed land here. Well, let me put my mark first, Mr. Blanchard, where I was first to see you. You were not. It was me. Gentlemen, gentlemen, please, please. It is not so important who was first. It is only important that I may prove the wonderful success of my experiment. Therefore, if some half dozen of you be so kind as to attest this document, and in any other, I assure you I shall be most grateful. Young man, would you be so kind as to read this deposition as you did Monsieur Washington's passport? We, the subscribers, saw the bearer, Mr. Blanchard, settle in his balloon in Deptford Township, County of Gloucester, in the state of New Jersey, about fifteen miles from Philadelphia, about ten o'clock, fifty-six minutes a.m. this day. Witness our hands the ninth day of January, A.D. 1793. And that, Monsieur le President, is the story of my flight. Well, I am happy, Monsieur Blanchard, that it was so great a success. It would have gone for nothing, Monsieur, but for the magic of your name. Oh, no, no, sir, the magic is yours. You call it magic, Mr. President, and so indeed does my poor printer friend, who even essayed a poem as a preface to my journal. It is a most remarkable poem, more remarkable than any verse I ever read. The ocean he crosses to our surprise, no human has ever before, invaded the Britons without ships or sails from France to the Britannia shore. So he whisked you even across ocean. Oh, but, Mr. President, that is not as distant as you think. When men can fly, they can do anything. Dr. Franklin seemed to think so, too. When I delivered the first letter to him by air on my flight across the channel, he prophesied that possibly the balloon will convince sovereigns of the folly of war. I am afraid I lack Dr. Franklin's imagination. Well, he said, Where is the prince who can afford so to cover his country with troops against 10,000 men descending in half as many balloons from the clouds? Landing in many places, these might do an infinite deal of mischief before a force could be brought together to repel them. Possibly, Mr. Blanchard, possibly. As for myself, Mr. President, I am not a prophet. Who knows to what use the balloon will be put in generations to come. Should you ask me what good it is, I would answer you as Dr. Franklin answers the same question. I would say to you, what good is a newborn baby? For their performance of the story of Jean-Pierre Blanchard and the first successful flight in America, the Cavalcade of America thanks Edwin Jerome and the Cavalcade players. And our DuPont brings you news of chemistry at work in our world. In our time, an army doesn't march on its stomach as it did in the time of Frederick the Great. It rolls on wheels and it flies on wings. And the fuel that rolls it and flies it is oil, hidden away in the earth in geological epochs that never knew the sound of a marching footfall. Oil for battleships and airplane carriers, diesel oil for tanks, trains, and submarines, 100 octane aviation gasoline. And the industry behind the Army uses still more oil. Not only that, but national defense calls for the petroleum hydrocarbons that are one source of TNT and other military explosives. It isn't hard to understand why petroleum products are so vital to American defense plans. Where in the last war an army division used 4,000 horsepower, today the same division, Mechanized, uses 187,000. Luckily, the United States is responsible for 61 percent of the world's oil production. Within its borders, along with 400-odd refineries in 36 states, there is more crude oil and natural gas than in any other country. If necessary, 2 million gallons of 100 octane aviation gasoline can be made per day. Gasoline that flies a plane 30 percent farther and faster enables it to carry 20 to 30 percent more load, lets it climb 25 percent more rapidly, and doubles the working life of the motor. If it becomes necessary for America to ration her oil, it will only be because it is agreed that oil for defense and transport for defense are more important than for pleasure and comfort. In the production and processing of petroleum, chemistry is an invaluable partner. DuPont Nitromon S, a new, safer blasting agent for seismic prospecting and other special DuPont explosives, helped prospectors to discover hidden oil deposits, saving millions of dollars that used to be wasted on dry holes. Skilled DuPont technicians, called shooters, place explosive charges in oil wells to make them more productive. DuPont neoprene chemical rubber, with its superior resistance to oil, is used in drilling equipment and in the great hoses that fill ocean-going tankers and railroad tank cars. A whole list of DuPont chemicals is used in oil refining, among them solvents, acid, and doctor solutions, as petroleum engineers call them. DuPont inhibitors stabilize the high octane gasolines made by modern cracking processes. DuPont addition agents reduce the oxidation of lubricating oils and increase the strength of oil films. DuPont chemicals serve as bases for extreme pressure lubricants designed to stand up under tons of pressure. DuPont plastics protect the underground pipelines that carry oil across country, and DuPont finishes protect the storage tanks, the trucks, and the oil tankers at sea. Service to the petroleum industry, a service doubly vital to us at this time, ranks high indeed among the better things for better living through chemistry. And now Ted Joyeth of the Cavalcade Players to tell you about next week's program. Next week, the Cavalcade Players present a radio play called The Mystery of the Spotted Death, the story of a group of men whose lives were devoted to fighting a plague called Rocky Mountain Fever caused by ticks, a scourge wrecking death and desolation among the people of the mountain regions of Western America. We hope you'll join us for this broadcast next week on the Cavalcade of America. On our program next week, our story from the wonder world of chemistry will tell how modern chemistry is carrying on the battle against insect pests in our world today. On the Cavalcade of America, your announcer is Clayton Collier sending best wishes from DuPont. This is the National Broadcasting Company.
