Ports of Call. Ports of Call. Ports of Call. Ports of Call. Ports of Call. Beyond blue horizons far at the world's end, strange, fascinating lands beckon us, bid us revel in their exotic splendors. Come with us as we head for Ports of Call. Only twenty years ago, our Port of Call could not have been found upon any map. Today, the whole world knows and admires it. For it is one of those miracle states born of the World War, a state whose people, submerged for centuries by waves of foreign domination, at last won through to the sunshine of national independence. We are about to visit colorful, inspiring Czechoslovakia, stretching its slender, verdant length across 600 miles of the heart of Central Europe. Czechoslovakia has no seacoast. We cross Europe in a swift modern train to reach Prague, for centuries the capital of the ancient kingdom of Bohemia, and since 1918, capital of the New Republic. Prague, called Praha by the natives, is a picturesque, good-natured city, rich in ancient monuments and in the enterprising modern spirit, which is already one for it an enviable place among the world's leading commercial centers. The shops lining the long central plaza delight us with their attractive merchandise, shoes and other leather goods, glassware, garnet jewelry, lace, and peasant embroideries in many brilliant colors. At the end of the square stands a heroic equestrian statue. It is the good King Wenceslaus, he who in the 10th century first brought the Czech tribes together in a political unit. Through the city flows the busy Vlátová River, spanned by graceful bridges. On the heights of the Father Bank looms the huge bulk of the ancient royal palace. Of incredible size, the palace covers several hundred acres. Its immense courtyard easily houses the imposing Gothic pile of St. Biber's Cathedral. One day in 1346, the courtyard was filled with a glittering throng of armored knights and comparison war horses. Pennets and streamers float against the sky. The bright sunshine bleams from the plumed helmets of 500 chosen warriors. John, King of Bohemia, is setting forth to battle. The Battle of Bohemia John, John, once more, I humbly implore you, give up this expedition. Fair Queen, I have given my word. Oh, but John... Oh, no, it is impossible. The English have invaded France. My ally, Philippe of Valois, needs me. If Philippe knew you had been blinded, he would not hold you to your promise. Oh, because I cannot see. Do you think I'm useless? You know me ill, my Queen. No, my word has been given, and I go. Farewell. Then farewell, King John. May God protect you. Squire, help me into the saddle. Unfurl my banner with the red Lion of Bohemia and forward. Forward! Forward! And the blind King leads his warriors to far-off France. There, with his French ally, he meets England's King and England's Black Prince on the fatal field of Cressy. The English archers bend their longbows. They unleash a tempest of long-shattered arrows which blackens the sky. Before that deadly blast, the allied knights fall like wheat before the mower's side. The battle becomes a shamble. My Lord, our cause is lost. Fly while there's yet time. God does not will that a King of Bohemia should fly from a field of battle. But, my Lord... I have found the call for the assembly. My leads, Lords, find your bridles one to the other with my horse in the centre of the Rhine. It is done, my Lord. Forward against the Black Prince for God and our righteous cause. Forward! And King John won his way to the Black Prince. It was there that he fell, surrounded by the bodies of his followers. And the glorious death of the Bohemian King on the field of Cressy has ever since inspired his countrymen with undying courage. We leave the Rodchian Castle and continue our visit of Frog. There is the statue of John Hess, the Czech's great martyr to religious liberty. We enjoy the outdoor cafes with their gay music, their golden-hued Pilsner beer. We dine at the huge Huay Khoo restaurant amidst throngs of joyous students from the University of Frog, our vendors of cakes and candied fruits. Here, in the little street of the Alchemists, still stand the quaint one-story houses wherein Rudolf II in the 16th century housed his band of strange medieval wizards from whose researchers he vainly hoped to draw endless stores of gold. In the heart of Frog's old city, we stop at the foot of the clock tower which rises high above the ancient town hall. The Great Clock is one of the mechanical marvels of Europe, and it was a memorable day in the city's history when in 1490 its builder, Hannes of Roderick-Kralow, announced its completion to the city fathers. The Great Clock Oh, I have labored long, venerable fathers, ten long years, but now Frog has the most marvelous clock in all the world. It is nearly midday, Hannes. Is everything ready? Oh, yes, excellency. Let's start the clock. Look, the figures on both sides of the dial. Watch them, they are moving. Those windows above the dial are opening. Yes, something's coming out of them. They seem almost alive. It's Christ leading them all. The Great Peter Guard is wonderful. See, that St. Peter was the keys of heaven. There's another figure behind him, and another. And another, and another. And a rooster, mother, a rooster. And it flaps its wings. It's going to crawl. Yes, listen. Excuse me, excellencies. I'm weeping from happiness. This is the greatest day of my life. A great day for Frog, too, Hannes. Your clock is splendid, splendid. Oh, and no other city in the world has such a clock. I hope your excellencies are satisfied. Yes, Hannes, we are more than satisfied. And you shall have your reward. Go with these men. Oh, yes, excellency. But supposing some other city gets Hannes to build them a clock like ours? Thought of that. Hannes will never build another clock. He will not be able to. I have given orders. I'm not going to. Will him? Why, no, of course not. They will only put out his eyes. It's a very simple solution, really. Many a long year has passed since I've finished my beautiful clock. During all that time I've sat here in darkness. Think, wife, I have never seen it since that first day. And now I'm going to die. No, no, Hannes. Yes, it's true. I shall not live much longer. But first there is something I must do. Hand me the bundle on the table, wife. So, lead me to the town hall. Very well, Hannes. I will take you with me. I want to speak to the guard of the clock tower. Well, well, Hannes, what are you doing here? If you please, I have here a permission from the mayor to visit once more before I die. My masterpiece. Hmm, hmm. Very well. I'll take you up. It's a long climb through the tower for an old man like you. I climbed it hundreds of times while I was building my clock. Here it is, Hannes, just as you built it. Yes, it is here. My beautiful clock. My masterpiece. There. Take me to my clock. I want to feel it with my hands. Oh, all right. Here you are, Hannes. Now you can find your way about by yourself. Oh, yes. I remember it all. Oh, I can, I can almost see it through my fingers. I know it so well. Every tiny little part of it. Ten years I gave to this. Ten long years. Now, just a little further. Here it is. Here is my great secret. No one else could contrive this but me. It is the heart, the life of my great clock. Farewell, old friend. Hannes, what are you doing? Come away. Then back, back to your get this hammer. Stop, drop that hammer. Drop it. I smash it. I kill it. You madman. You wrecked it. Yes, yes, I wrecked it. I wrecked it. Forever, forever, forever. For nearly fifty years, the great clock remained motionless and silent. Only in 1550 could a master craftsman be found able to put it in order again. And ever since, Prague's unique timepiece has been the wonder and admiration of millions of visitors. The land of the Czechoslovakia is dotted with busy modern factories, but it is also a pastoral country of quaint charm and unsurpassed beauty. Rich fields and verdant meadows spread their variegated colors over the rolling landscape. Extensive woodlands mantle the hills and frame with verge of the mossy ramparts of romantic castles. In the valleys, pristine rivers reflect the blue sky. And winding through this beautiful country, lazy white roads wander from one to another of the neat villages which dot the landscape on all sides. The love of music, which is the heritage of this splendid country, brings many of its gifted young people to the art center, the great city of Prague. Among these was the young student Antonin Vorzhak. Here he studied harmony and music theory and took his first groping steps in original composition. But out of his few pennies, there was never enough to enable him to hear the works of the great masters, especially his hero, Richard Wagner. One winter's night in 1862, he hid himself in the orchestra pit of the Prague National Theatre to hear a performance of his beloved Wagner. He was discovered and the next day brought before the stern director general of the theatre. Well, well, what is it? Hidden the young man who hid in the orchestra pit last night, here, director. Oh, yes, yes. Come here, young fellow. You must be crazy. What made you hide in the pit, eh? I had no money, sir. What could I do? I had to hear Wagner's music. And why do you have to hear Wagner's music in my theatre if you can't buy a seat, eh? Because Wagner's my ideal. I study his scores day and night, but I have to hear him played and sung. I am a composer, sir. A composer, eh? Johannes Brahms to see you. Brahms? Oh, fine, fine. Ask him to come writing. You, wait, stay, stay over there in the corner. I'll attend to you later. Come in, come in, Herr Brahms. This is indeed an honour. Good morning, failure. You know, I heard something amusing on my way here. They tell me you found the store away in your orchestra pit last night. Yes, yes, that's all. Here he is. It's this chap. You must really love music, young man. You are a musician, I suppose? Yes, Herr Brahms. I intend to become a composer. Good, good. What is your name? Antonin Wojcik from PSEC. Wojcik. Wojcik. Let me see. Ah, I remember. Didn't you submit a manuscript for the national music competition? Yes, sir, I did. Oh, I am delighted to meet you. And I may have some good news for you soon. For him? Yes, failure. You see, I am one of the judges for the competition. This young man's music is really extraordinary. I wanted to give him the prize straight off, but the others think his composition is too, well, too unconventional. But have patience, my boy. I am an obstinate man. Oh, Herr Brahms, I can never thank you. Me? For what? You deserve it. I'll take you to see my music publisher. He'll be interested. In the meantime, failure, don't you think there's a place for this young man in your orchestra? Oh, certainly, certainly, Herr Brahms. Then come along, Wojcik. Goodbye, failure. Good day, Herr Brahms. Good day, Herr... Herr Wojcik. Auf Wiedersehen, Herr Direktor. With the strong and capable hand of Johannes Brahms to open doors before him, Borsach's long struggle against poverty and neglect soon ended. His genius developed rapidly. In 1892, a triumphant program of Borsach's compositions in New York marks his installation as director of the National Conservatory of Music. Oh, please, have the Borsach a statement for the press. Did you not hear the concert? Well, sure, sure, but give us something to write about. Something picturesque about yourself, Mr. Borsach. How about your early life? Well, let me see. I was born in a little village. I played the violin. I went to Prague. I composed. I was very poor. I met Brahms. I was successful, and that's all. Well, that's not much to pray for. I know. Perhaps you could write something. We'll wait. Yeah, that's it. You write it. Something about your impressions of America. You know. Very well, I shall write about America. I want to apply to you. But you may have to wait a long time. And then, perhaps, you will not be able to read it. What do you mean? There, you see, my language is music. So I shall write about America in my language. Yes, that's it. A symphony, and it shall be called From the New World. I shall write about America in my language. I shall write about America in my language. Through centuries of domination by Germany and Austria, the patriotic Czechs preserved their identity. Their brothers, the Slovaks, for a thousand years resisted Hungary's efforts to obliterate their individuality. And to reward this long perseverance, fate at last produced the man who was to bring them freedom. Absolutely unselfish, totally free from political ambition, he alone could perform this great task. His background, a broad tolerant philosophy, a deep knowledge of literature and languages, a thorough understanding of all the European nations, and a more profound insight into their individual problems than any single European statesman has ever possessed. His name is Thomas Masaryk. August 1914. Across all Europe sweeps the red tide of war. Dr. Masaryk, this will be the worst war in history. Yes, P'ne, unbelievable suffering will stop the world. War is hateful. Odious, I would have given anything to prevent it. But this war lay directly in the path of Europe's destiny. P'ne, it means the death of the old order, and it may mean liberty for our people. Oh, that is what we must work for. It must be our only aim. But we are poor, obscure. How can we act? Success depends upon three things. Upon victory for the Allies, first of all, then upon the breaking up of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and finally upon world recognition of our right to self-determination. You are our only hope, Masaryk. No, P'ne, that is not exact. I shall do everything possible, of course. But success does not depend upon me, it depends upon you, upon every one of us. Not only the Czechs in Europe, but upon the Czechs all over the world, in London, in New York, everywhere. We are poor, yes, but our cause is just. We have only to present it with the force of clear ideas and sound argument. If we do our part, Providence will not fail us. This means exile for you, Masaryk. If you stay here, Austria will soon find a way to silence you. I know. My work must be done abroad, and I must slip out of the country before it's too late. I will go to Rome. Thus, at 65, did Thomas Masaryk begin the astonishing four-year pilgrimage, which led him around the world in the cause of liberty for his people. In Rome, surrounded by other exiles, Thomas Masaryk commences the Herculean test, which is to occupy him night and day. 1915 at Geneva, Thomas Masaryk continues to weave the complicated tissue of intrigue. In London, Thomas Masaryk succeeds in winning ten leading Fleet Street journals to the cause of Czechoslovakian independence. 1916 in Paris, Masaryk persuades Aristide Briand to support his plan for the dismemberment of Austria-Hungary and the liberation of the Czechoslovaks. 1917 in Russia, Masaryk organises the Czechoslovakian war prisoners into an independent army corps of 40,000 men to fight on the side of the Allies. He leads the Czech legions on their epoch-making round-the-world march to reach the Western Front. 1918 in Washington, D.C., after a conference with Thomas Masaryk, President Woodrow Wilson includes his plans in the war aims manifesto and then the armistice. Music At Independence Hall, Philadelphia, Thomas Masaryk proclaims the independence of the new Czechoslovakian Republic. That evening, he receives a cable gram. From the depth of their grateful hearts, your people call upon you to accept the post of first president of the Republic of Czechoslovakia. Music And the aged Thomas Masaryk, beloved idol of his people, re-crossed the Atlantic to guide the first fateful steps of the new republic with the same lofty, unselfish, enlightened patriotism which made his long life one of the most inspiring in the pages of world history. Music Free at last, Czechoslovakia no longer toils for foreign overlords. Their sturdy, industrious, clear-eyed people now march on toward a glorious future in the happy consciousness that their own children will harvest the fruits of their labor. And as we take leave of Czechoslovakia, we wish this valiant newcomer to the world republics lasting success and every happiness. Music Music Music Music We invite you to join us again next week at this time as we journey to another of the world's fascinating ports of call. Music Applause
