The Cavalcade of America, sponsored by E.I. DuPont de Nemours & Company of Wilmington,
Delaware, maker of better things for better living through chemistry, presents the conquest
of Quineye with House Jamieson as the narrator.
Before we begin our play, here's some good news about neoprene synthetic rubber. Some
DuPont neoprene has now been made available to rubber thread manufacturers for girdles.
As you probably know, our armed forces are making good use of most of the neoprene DuPont
can produce. Aircraft engine hose, airplane parts, gas masks, and protective coverings
for Army and Navy communication wiring are just a few of the thousands of wartime uses
for neoprene. But the supply of this DuPont chemical rubber is now large enough to divert
a limited amount to the manufacture of girdles. Girdles with stretch because they are made
of DuPont neoprene. And now for our play.
Tonight Cavalcade presents the story of a victory that ranks as a truly great scientific
achievement. A victory won after more than a hundred years of search and struggle and
personal sacrifice. Our play, written by Arthur Arendt, is the story of man's attempts over
the years to make quinine synthetically or to develop a substitute. Only this year two
American scientists have finally succeeded where so many have failed. They have accomplished
the total synthesis of quinine. Their work carried on at Harvard University was initiated
and sponsored by the Polaroid Corporation. The DuPont Company presents the conquest of
quinine with House Jamieson as the narrator on the Cavalcade of America.
This is the story of a disease that has killed and is still killing more people than the
plague, than cancer, than heart disease, or any other ill yet visited upon mankind. Yes,
even war. Year by year since the dawn of recorded history, enough men, women, and children have
died of this terrible disease to populate a brand new world. If these millions of dead
could come to life again today, now, it is safe to say they would demand one thing of
their brave new world. Let there be, they would say, butterflies and helicopters, pomegranates
and plastics, but no mosquitoes, for the disease they died of is malaria.
Malaria. The word designates a group of chronic infections of vertebrates produced by the
protozoan parasites, plasmodii. The three species of which I would call your attention
being falciparum, vivax, and... Thank you very much, Professor. Ladies and gentlemen,
what the professor is saying is that malaria is caused by a parasite. A mosquito bites
a man that has malaria and then he bites you and pretty soon you've got malaria too. Isn't
that correct, sir? Yes, quite. The cure for malaria is quinine. In the history of chemotherapy,
numerous attempts at synthesis were made with only partial success until very recently when
total synthesis was achieved. That's all. Thank you very much, sir. It has taken you
exactly 29 seconds to tell the story of the first specific known to medicine of the miracle
drug that has saved in the course of centuries untold hundreds of millions of lives. And
now, if you don't mind, I'd like to tell it my way right from the beginning.
In the year 1638, the viceroy of the great colony of Spanish America was one Don Luis
Fernandez Mendoza, Count of Chinchon. The count was very happy with his post in South America.
He had a beautiful young wife. Lima was a cosmopolitan city. The Indians didn't know
too much and a great deal of gold and silver was being shipped back to Spain. And then
one day, the beautiful young wife awoke before dawn raving deliriously for water. The viceregal
physician was summoned. He examined the countess. Your Excellency. Well, don't stand there looking
at me. What is it? Your Excellency, I am not quite sure. I must have further details.
Details? What kind of details? You ask the date of her birth, the color of her eyes when
she lies there dying? No. On the contrary, it's quite another detail that I'm interested
in. When I arrived just now... When you arrived just now, my wife was delirious. She shrieked
to God for water and her body was burning. Exactly. And before I arrived... Before you
arrived, she suffered so virant a chill that the bed shook. Thank you. That is all I wish
to know. Your Excellency, it is the egg you. Egg you? The egg you, eh? Well, what are you
waiting for? Get your herbs and bottles and prepare the cure. She will die, Your Excellency.
There is no cure. On the sixth night, the chills and fever were so severe and the delirium
so prolonged that all hope was abandoned. It was just before dawn that an Indian arrived
from the hills far to the north. He carried a message from the Spanish magistrate at Loja.
Your Highness, with respect and deep humility, I send you these pieces of bark from the Queen
Quina tree, which, as you may have heard, is abundant in this district. It will be powdered
into a strong wine and, if it please Almighty God, the resultant potion will cure your beloved
countess of this deadly malady. Well, physician, what say you of this? I'm against it, Your
Excellency. Indeed. And what do you suggest in its place? I, Your Excellency, this so-called
Queen Quina bark is unknown to me. In Spain, in all Europe, there's no record of its existence.
Furthermore... Continue. The great Galen, father of medicine, does not list it in his
index of the 300 cures. And therefore it does not exist. Very interesting. If I could have
a little time, perhaps, to study it... I am interested in prolonging the existence of
my wife, not the advancement of medicine. But I cannot assume the responsibility. I will
assume the responsibility. Prepare the potion. The bark of the mysterious Queen Quina tree
was prepared according to directions and given to the countess. Every few hours for two days
the dose was repeated. And at the end of the second day a miracle occurred. The chills
and fever slackened. The delirium disappeared. Some weeks later the countess was well enough
to approach her husband with a most interesting project. Now that I'm well enough to travel,
I'm going back to Madrid. And with me as my dearest possession, I shall take a packet
of this miraculous specific. All Spain, all Europe, shall learn the wonder that God has
seen fit to store in the bark of a tree. Thus the tiny packet of bark from the Queen
Quina tree went on to Spain, where its value as a cure for malaria, then known as the ague,
was quickly proven. In honor of the countess, botanists changed the name of the bark. It
was hereafter to be known as Cincona. It wasn't until two centuries later that doctors and
chemists became curious about this Peruvian bark. They knew it cured malaria. But how
and why and what made it work? It was in 1820 that the first experiment was made by two
French chemists. My dear Caventu, up to now we've extracted gray Cincona bark with alcohol.
We added water and potash and what have we got? A clear solution containing crystals.
Exactly. Crystals. All white and shining and very pretty to look at. But they don't cure
malaria. They don't cure anything. And so I suggest we forget all about it. Let's go
on to... One moment. Think, Pelletier, what it would mean if we could discover what there
is in this Cincona bark that cures... I have thought about it. Nevertheless... I beg you,
Pierre. What we have got up to now... Which is exactly nothing. We got from gray Cincona
bark. Before we give up, let us try the whole thing over again on the yellow. I ask you,
Joseph, what difference will that make? It is known that these Cincona barks differ.
Perhaps the yellow is better, perhaps, if we... Oh, very well, Joseph. Hand me that strip
of yellow Cincona. Let's see now. We extracted yellow Cincona with alcohol. It was done.
We added water and potash. Done. And now we look for white crystals. Well? There are
none, Pierre. No crystals? What we have produced is a white powder. It will not crystallize.
Pierre, Pierre, do you suppose... I... I don't know. We must be careful. We will test its
solubility in acid and alcohol. We will then send a specimen to all doctors in the Paris
area, advising them to join Prudence to Sagacity in testing it on human beings. And Pierre,
I have already thought of a name for it. Since it comes from the Cincona tree, let us call
it Kinene. And thus, from the bark of a tree was isolated the magic power that cured malaria.
By the middle of the 19th century, quinine was recognized throughout the world. It was
potent. It was the malaria cure. But it was also scarce and expensive, and millions continued
to die. In 1850, the French Society of Pharmacy announced a competition to the chemists of
the world. Whereas it has long been of the utmost importance that a synthesis for quinine
be found, whereas this synthetic must, beyond doubt, be possessed of the same therapeutic
effect, whereas the cost of its production must be appreciably reduced. Therefore, we,
the French Society of Pharmacy, do make this appeal to the world of science, offering a
prize of 4,000 francs to the chemists who will discover the means of preparing quinine
artificially. I say, have you heard? This French Society, a competition. We will follow
the course set by Pelletier and Caventour. France shall have the honor. Today, we begin
work on quinine synthesis. We will show the world what German chemistry can do. Four dozen
francs, eh? What's mine? I'll go to work on it today. Yes, they went to work on it. Even
Pasteur was interested. I wish to report the extraction of an alkaloid from Sinconebark.
I have called this alkaloid kinotoxin. And there they stopped. Even the great Pasteur
it was apparent could go no further. And the prize offered by the French Society of Pharmacy
was never won. But one of the experiments performed in this competition was to confound
the world of chemistry and create a new industry. This discovery of such tremendous importance
was arrived at by sheerst accident. Listen up, follow this closely. For the date of this
experiment, 1856 is the beginning of a cycle of experimentation that was completed in our
time. Only three months ago, in April 1944, with the final triumphant long sought after
total synthesis of quinine. The cycle begins at the Royal College of Chemistry in London.
An old professor and a young student. Perkin? Perkin? William Henry Perkin. Oh, yes, Professor.
Going home for your Easter holiday, William? Yes, Professor, to work. I've a laboratory's
home, you know. What are you going to work on? Oh, I don't know. Anything that strikes my
fancy, just as long as it's chemistry. William, why not put your holiday to real use by going
after something specific? Such as? Such as quinine. You've heard, of course, of this
competition. Why not get into it? Everybody else is already. Quinine, eh? Well, what did
you have in mind to produce it from? Coal tar. Coal tar? You mean that stuff the distillers
will pay you to cart away, that stinking, nauseating mess? Exactly, William. That stinking,
nauseating mess.
William, that stuff smells. What is it? Oh, coal tar derivative. What is that? One of the
chemicals that comes from coal tar. Now, keep quiet and watch. If this turns white, maybe
I've got something. Quiet now. It's black. It's black. It's turning black. Yes, so it
is. Now, let's see. I've tried toluidine with potassium dichromate. I've tried sulfate
of... Alice, didn't I tell you never to touch that? Look at my dress. Look at it. It's
purple. Well, it serves you right. Next time you'll know better than to... Did you say
purple? Here, let me look at that. My shoes, too. William, my shoes. Oh, that's strange.
Very strange. Now, I wonder why it turned purple.
Within a week, William Henry Perkin found out the coal tar derivative he'd used on that
last experiment was aniline. And this 18-year-old boy thus became the discoverer of the first
ever now famous aniline dyes. They revolutionized an industry. But more important, in the mad
stampede that followed Perkin's discovery, the goal of the world's chemist to create
an artificial quinine went down, scuttled, a lost cause. You are listening to the conquest
of quinine with House Jamison as the narrator on the cavalcade of America sponsored by E.I.
DuPont de Nemours and Company of Wilmington, Delaware, maker of better things for better
living through chemistry. Our cavalcade play this evening is the story of man's engrossing
struggle down through the years to find a remedy for the dread disease malaria. In 1856,
William Henry Perkin, an English chemist seeking a synthetic quinine out of coal tar, discovered
instead the first of the aniline dyes and the world's chemists turned from the problems
of quinine to the new field. The years went by. Seedlings of the now famous
Cincono tree were transported from South America and planted in the soil of the Dutch East
Indies. Thus was the supply of quinine increased and the cost lowered, but never enough to
fill the demand of the millions throughout the world. And the chemists, what were they
doing all this time? My name is Herr Strecker. I have determined the composition of the quinine
molecule. It consists of 20 carbon, 24 hydrogen, 2 oxygen and 2 nitrogen atoms. This fellow
Strecker merely started things, you know. Others came along who made use of his discovery.
Fellows like Kraut and Koenigs, for instance, they isolated the various quinine units. And
then the German chemist, Herrabe, made his famous experiment. I wish to announce that
I have succeeded in turning back into quinine, the alkaloid quinotoxin which Pasteur extracted
in 1853. That was a partial synthesis. And now let me tell you about a new drug. It was
invented by two German chemists, Mieschen Maus, and it was called? Atabrine. This new
drug we have created is based on an acrid in dye. It is only distantly related to quinine,
but it does kill malaria parasites. Atabrine, as you know, soon became the universally accepted
man-created cure for malaria. It had certain toxic qualities, but proper care and supervision
held them down to a minimum. But the dream of every chemist, the perfect and total synthesis
of quinine, seemed as far away as ever.
On December 7th, 1941, 95% of the world supply of quinine came from the Dutch East Indies.
By April of the following year, the Japs had moved in and the supply was shut off. The
Army and Navy of the United States had large stocks of quinine on hand, but nobody was
sure how long the war would last. And so among those who went to work on the age-old riddle
were two American scientists. The year is 1943, the month February, the place Harvard
University. If we could look in on two young scientists, we might hear an interesting conversation.
Well, During, I've worked out a tentative blueprint for this thing.
Good. It'll be a nice change, Woodward, after this hush-hush stuff we've been doing for
the government.
Maybe you won't think so after we begin banging our heads on this quinine business.
I know. In the beginning, everything looks rosy. Well, where do we start?
Remember quinotoxin?
Pasteur, 1853. He extracted it from Cincona.
Right. And in 1918, Robber made quinine from quinotoxin.
Sure, but he had to use plenty of real quinine to do it.
Now, if we could make synthetic quinotoxin, we'd be a lot nearer to synthetic quinine, right?
Mm-hmm.
Now, half the quinotoxin molecule has already been duplicated. Let's go after the other half.
Okay. What do we start with?
During, I'm suggesting we start with benzaldehyde.
Benzaldehyde. Listener, stop a moment and consider.
Benzaldehyde is produced from coal tar. Coal tar. Remember William Henry Perkin?
He went looking for quinine and discovered aniline dyes.
And now, almost a hundred years later, Robert B. Woodward and William E. During,
still searching for a total synthesis of quinine, seek out the answer in exactly the same way
the same substance, coal tar. That stinking, nauseating mess, as Perkin called it.
Thus, the cycle draws to its close.
The first step was achieved in a month.
From now on, it was to be the old chemical formula of trial and error.
Red eyes, dead with fatigue, and an unspoken prayer.
Red eyes, dead with fatigue, and an unspoken prayer every night when they crawled into bed.
The next steps took longer, and soon the laboratory was filled with bottles of crystals, beautiful crystals.
I'd say we're doing all right. Now the next step...
Say, Bill, what's on your mind?
Well, Bob, something's come up.
Oh?
Yeah, my appointment to teach at Columbia came through today.
Say, that's great. Congratulations.
Thanks. But what about us? I'm worried how we'll arrange it with me in New York and you up here in Cambridge.
Look, we'll both go on just as we were. They play chess by telephone, don't they?
Well, we'll coordinate our research the same way. Whenever you change the structure, call me up.
When I add or subtract something, I'll let you know.
Fine. I'll come up Christmas and Easter, and we'll really tear things apart.
Certainly. Now let's get back to work.
Step by step in the months rolled by.
It was April 11, 1944, 14 months after the experiment had begun.
The doubting had come up to Cambridge that he and Woodward might work out this final step together.
How long we've been at it?
Almost a week, I guess. 9.30 a.m. to 4.30 a.m. and back again at 9.30.
I'm not sure I've been at it for a long time.
Back again at 9.30. I mix, you stir, I boil.
Well, let's do it different today. You mix, I stir, and you boil.
Okay. Now let's go over this again.
We've duplicated the two halves of the quinine molecule and combined them,
and all we got was a yellow oil, quinotoxin.
We used Robber's method and then dropped in a few natural quinine crystals
because sometimes they act like seeds and make other crystals, but nothing happened.
Well, let's do it over again, see what happens.
All over again, the yellow oil, the natural crystals, mix, stir, boil, and cool.
Suddenly, they had a quarter of a gram of fluffy, faintly yellow, needle-like crystals.
They put them through several tests, and then Woodward looked at During,
and During looked at Woodward.
Well, what do you think?
So far, so good.
Yeah, too good, maybe.
We've still got to measure the rotation of the crystals.
The final and conclusive test, as my old professor used to say.
If it comes out right, we've got something.
And if it doesn't, well, no use postponing the verdict.
Want me to take it into the dark room and measure them?
Uh-huh.
Hey, you're not nervous, are you?
Get out of here.
Maybe you'd like to take a little nap or something.
Maybe you ought to rest.
Go on.
Okay, okay, I'm going.
Keep your fingers crossed.
Woodward, Woodward.
Well?
The rotation came out absolutely correct.
We've done it.
This is it, I tell you.
This is it.
Hey, quit pumping my hand like that.
You'll shake it right off.
The end of the trail had been reached after almost a hundred years.
There were many milestones along the way
put there by such men as Pasteur and Perkin and Strecker and Robber and many others.
And now the cycle is completed.
The riddle has been solved.
In the May issue of the Journal of the American Chemical Society,
there appeared the following announcement.
We wish to record the first total synthesis of quinine.
It was signed R.B. Woodward and W.E. During.
Thank you, House Jamieson and members of the Cattlecade cast.
Now here is Ted Pearson speaking for the DuPont Company.
An American LCT nosed in toward the island of Elba
where Napoleon was once imprisoned.
And War Correspondent Sedgwick of the New York Times pecked at his battered typewriter.
He wrote,
At dawn enemy shells were falling about the armada of landing craft.
Smoke shells were being fired by our ships in great quantities.
And containers of canned mist would drop from the sterns of the fast scurrying vessels
so that the operation, finally successful, was carried out in something resembling a London fog.
Chemical smoke is really a lot thicker than a London fog,
so thick in fact that you can get lost in it.
But it isn't really smoke. It's a fine powder, the product of combining chemicals which hangs in the air.
It has saved many lives and helped us win many objectives.
Our troops are using four different kinds of chemical smoke in this war.
Smoke generators are mounted on ships, on planes, and used by troops on land.
Sometimes the smoke is colored.
A pre-arranged color code identifies an artillery unit, a beachhead, or a special objective.
Colored smoke helps our planes to bomb accurately even when clouds cover the target.
The lead plane carries a secret device that sees through the clouds.
Then it drops colored smoke bombs, and the planes which follow use the ring of colored smoke in the clouds as their target.
Chemical smoke blanketed the Normandy coast on D-Day.
Over Naples more than once it made the Germans aim their bombs by guess
and drop them into the sea where they were harmless.
At the Volturno River, where Americans were fighting their way into German-held territory,
25-pound smoke shells were fired every 15 seconds for 18 hours,
so the German artillery couldn't draw a bead on our men.
Below Cassino, where our supplies had to keep moving up the highways,
smoke screens 6 miles long and 2 miles wide blinded German guns,
which otherwise would have had a clearer view from the hillside of our trucks moving on the roads.
Engineers throwing a bridge across a stream often lay a smoke cloud where they aren't working,
so the enemy will direct his fire there and not shoot at the real bridge.
In New Guinea, we took a Japanese airfield by blanketing the edges of the field with smoke from the air
and landing a thousand paratroopers in the smoke right on the field.
Sulfur trioxide and hexachlorothane, two compounds used in smoke generating equipment,
are products of present-day chemistry.
The use of these basic chemicals in smoke screens is a wartime adaptation of products
which in peacetime enables the DuPont Company to bring you better things for better living through chemistry.
Music
Next Monday evening, the Cavalcade of America presents a radio adaptation of the current bestseller,
A Walk in the Sun, a vivid touching story of men and war,
the story of an infantry platoon in the Italian campaign, of a march in the sun along a death-strewn unknown road,
and of the mission that had to be carried through at the end of that road.
Music
The orchestra and musical score were under the supervision of Donald Voorhees.
This is Roland Winters sending his best wishes from Cavalcade sponsor E.I. DuPont de Nemours & Company of Wilmington, Delaware.
The Cavalcade of America came to you from New York.
Applause
This is the National Broadcasting Company.