All language subtitles for Amistad.1997.English

1839

That one wants us to sail them back.

That one thinks he can sail
all the way back without us.

Yes. East. To the sun.

I understand. You can trust me.

To Africa.

Well, I have to tack, don't I?
Tack. You'd rather I didn't.

You want to get there? I have to tack.

You're going to get us killed.

Yea, yea, yea, now go take a bath.

We have to signal them.

When the ship gets close, he'll run and hide.
Then we both start yelling.

They'll search the ship.

Get ready.

Six Weeks

Dolly!

Dolly!

Carry on, Mr. Packwood!

Aye, aye, sir!

Straight ahead!

Fire over their heads!

Steady on.

Open the gate!

Come on, come on, come on!

- Move along!
- Come on, let's go!

Move along!

- Forward! Come on!
- Keep it going!

Come along! Get moving!

- Don't stop there! Keep moving!
- Make way for the stinking heathens!

All right, move on.

Lock 'em up!

Gates! Gates! Gates!

Push 'em in!

Isabella II, Queen of Spain

Your Royal Highness.

Something's happened.

- Thank you...
- Mr. President, sir.

The ambassador to Spain, Señor Calderon.
Martin Van Buren, 8th President of the United States

- What?
- Señor Calderon.

- Yes, all right. Not now. Not now.
- Ambassador...

It appears to be a matter
of certain importance, sir.

God bless!

I'm trying to drink my brandy
after a very long day.

I understand. I simply wasn't certain
whether this was something

- you wanted to take care of personally.
- Leder, there are, what,

three, four million Negroes
in this country?

Why on Earth should I concern myself
with these 44?

Well, there are reasons.

I don't care how. You just take care of it.

The ship is the Amistad.

It's too small to be
a transatlantic slaver.

So, they're plantation slaves, then?
West Indians?

Not necessarily.
At least they certainly don't look it.

Not from the glimpse I caught of them
on their way to jail.

They have these scars.

- Scars?
- Yeah.

They were first detained by officers of a
survey brig off the coast of Long Island.

They were conveyed to New Haven,
under what authority, I don't know,

and given over to the local constabulary.

About 40 of them,
including four or five children.

The arraignment is day after tomorrow.

I can only assume
that the charge is murder.

I'll see what I can do about that.

Perhaps a writ for illegal arrest
and detainment to stall things.

At the very least,
make sure they have good counsel.

Chief!

Chief! Chief!

He's not a chief.

Brother!

Brother! Brother!

He's not your brother.

What is he then?

He's a white man.

Hear ye, hear ye.

In the matter of the district court
of the United States of America

in this, the year of our Lord, 1839,

the honorable
Andrew T. Juttson presiding.

If it please Your Honor.

The bench recognizes
District Attorney Holabird.

I would like to present the court,
Your Honor, with the charges

- of piracy and murder against the...
- Your Honor, I have a petition

- for a writ of habeas corpus.
- Your Honor, I was speaking.

Yes, I know, Mr. Holabird.
You were reading charges, which,

whatever they might be,
will be rendered moot by this writ.

That petition for a writ, Mr. Tappan,
if, indeed, that's what it is, is moot

unless and until an actual writ

by some higher court,
by some miracle, is granted.

Mr. Holabird is correct, Mr. Tappan.

And if you would, sir,
while I know it is your custom,

please, kindly refrain
from impersonating a lawyer,

which you patently are not.

As I was saying, Your Honor...

Your Honor.

Mr. Secretary.

Your Honor, I am here on behalf of the President of the
United States, U.S. Secretary of State John Forsyth

representing the claims of Her Majesty,
Queen Isabella of Spain,

as concerns our mutual treaty
on the high seas of 1795.

- You have my attention, sir.
- Thank you.

These slaves, Your Honor,
are by rights the property of Spain,

and as such,
under Article 9 of said treaty

are to be returned posthaste.

Said treaty taking precedence
over all other claims and jurisdictions.

Them slaves belong
to me and my mate, Your Majesty.

Your Honor, I have not yet read the...

Who be you two gentlemen?

"We, Thomas R. Gedney
and Richard W. Meade,

"whilst commissioned
US Naval officers,

"stand before this court
as private citizens,

"and do hereby claim salvage
on the high seas

"of the Spanish ship La Amistad
and all her cargo."

- Here you go, sir.
- Your Honor...

You wish to make this claim
above that of the Queen of Spain?

Where was she, pray,
when we was fightin' the winds

to bring this vessel in, Your... Honor.

Her Majesty, the Queen of Spain,
was busy ruling a country.

Your Honor, these officers'
claims are just...

Your Honor!

Here are the true owners
of these slaves.

- Order! Order in this court!
- On their behalf,

I am in possession of a receipt
for purchase executed in Havana, Cuba,

June 26, 1839,

I do hereby call upon this court
to immediately surrender

these goods

and that ship out there to my clients,

- Jose Ruiz...
- Yo soy Ruiz.

"Yoso" Ruiz, and... Pedro Montes?
Pedro Montes.

Mr. Tappan. How do you do, sir?

My name is Roger S. Baldwin,
attorney-at-law.

Real estate attorney?

Real estate, inventories
and other contestable assets, sir.

Can I help you with something?

Well, I don't know.
What is it that you do?

Well, I own various businesses
and banks.

Well, as a matter of fact, you probably
could help me, Mr. Tappan.

But that's not why I'm here.
You see, I'd like to help you.

- Me?
- Yes. I deal with property, Mr. Tappan.

And sometimes
I get people's property back for them,

and other times I get it taken away,

as in this case,
which is clearly a property issue.

You see, all of the claims here,

every single one of them,
speaks to the issue of ownership.

- Thank you very much, Mr. Baldwin.
- Baldwin, Roger S. Attorney-at-law.

But I'm afraid what's needed here
is a criminal attorney.

A trial lawyer.
But thanks for your interest.

Yes. Well,

intending no disrespect, Mr. Tappan,
but if that were the way to go,

well, then, quite frankly,

I wouldn't have bothered coming
down here, would I have?

Goodbye. I bid you gentlemen
a good afternoon.

In closing,

I call upon our distinguished
colleague from Massachusetts,

Representative John Quincy Adams,

to reweigh his unmeet
and unprecedented attempt

to convert this eccentric bequest of,

let's be frank,
a bunch of junk of one James Smithson,

into a so-called institute
of national treasure!

Perhaps Mr. Adams
is meditating on his response.

Had I thought your remarks worthy of

any kind of riposte,
Representative Pickney,

be assured you'd have heard from me
hours ago.

Who?

Mr. Tappan. Lewis Tappan.

Yeah?

I must see him?
I'm required to see him?

No, of course not, sir.
He requests an audience.

Give me a hand.

He requests, does he?

Yeah. I don't know
anyone called Tappan.

Yes, sir, you do.
You've met him on countless occasions.

Where? Where is he?

He's right over there, sir.
Right there, sir.

What is that?

- Where?
- Right there, sir.

Lewis! Good to see you again!

And you, sir.

- This is Theodore Joadson.
- How do you do, sir?

- An honor to meet you, sir.
- Yeah.

- Sir? Is there somewhere we could...
- What? Let's stroll in the garden.

- This way, sir.
- What?

Let go of my arm. Over here.

I believe this case
has great significance, sir.

Our Secretary of State has already
deemed it worthy of his attention.

- You don't have to shout. Stop shouting.
- No. Yes.

Well, he's supported
the Queen of Spain

in her claims
that the Africans belong to her.

And then there are others
making claims as well.

- Two sailors...
- What season is it?

- Pardon?
- I said, what season is it?

I don't understand what you mean.

There are two ways of knowing for
certain without consulting a calendar.

The leaves on the maple trees
have all gone and the fact that

the President is not at home over there
on Pennsylvania Avenue.

Tell me, sir, you really think

Van Buren cares about the whims
of an 11-year-old girl who wears a tiara?

'Cause I can assure you, sir,
having been over there,

only one thing occupies his thoughts
this time of the year,

being all things to all people,

which, of course,
means be nothing to no one.

In other words,
gettin' himself re-elected.

Give me a hand.

- Will you help us, sir?
- Let go of my arm.

Take my stick.

- Mr. Adams?
- Yeah, what?

As an advocate for
the abolition of slavery, will you help us?

I'm neither friend nor foe
of the abolitionist cause.

No, I won't help you.

Sir.

What?

I know you, Mr. President.

I know you and your presidency
as well as any man

and your father's.

You were a child at his side
when he helped invent America.

And you, in turn, have devoted your life
to refining that noble invention.

There remains but one task undone,
one vital task

the founding fathers left to their sons

before their 13 colonies could
precisely be called United States.

And that task, sir, as you well know,
is crushing slavery.

Your record confirms
you're an abolitionist, sir,

even if you won't.

- And whether or not you admit it...
- Mr. Joadson.

...you belong with us.

You're quite the scholar,
Mr. Joadson, aren't ya?

Quite the historian.

Let me tell you something
about that quality, if I might.

Without an accompanying mastery of
at least one-tenth its measure of grace,

such erudition is worthless, sir.

Now, you take it from one who knows.

If you gentlemen will excuse me.

We know we aimed high
coming to see you, sir, but...

Well, aim lower!

Find yourselves someone
whose inspiration blossoms

the more you lose.

If the court awards them to Spain,
they'll be taken to Cuba and executed.

If the two lieutenants prevail,
they'll most likely sell them to Spain

and they'll be executed.

If Montes and Ruiz
are successful in their campaign...

I'm a little confused by something.
What are they worth to you?

We're discussing the case,
not its expense.

The case, of course.

Well, the case is much simpler
than you think, Mr. Tappan.

It's like anything, isn't it? Land,
livestock, heirlooms, what have you.

Livestock.

Yes. Consider,

the only way one may sell or purchase
slaves is if they are born slaves,

as on the plantation.

- I'm right, aren't I?
- Yes.

- So, are they?
- "Are they?"

Yes. Born slaves, as on a plantation.

No, we're not certain,
but we very much doubt it.

Well, let's say they are, and if they are,
then they are possessions,

and no more deserving of a criminal
trial than a bookcase or a plow.

Then we can all go home, can't we?

Now, on the other hand,
let's say they aren't slaves.

If they aren't slaves, then they were
illegally acquired, weren't they?

Forget mutiny, forget piracy,
forget murder and all the rest.

Those are subsequent,
irrelevant occurrences.

Ignore everything
but the pre-eminent issue at hand.

The wrongful transfer of stolen goods.

- Either way, we win.
- Sir,

this war must be waged on
the battlefield of righteousness.

The what?

It would be against everything I stand for
to let this deteriorate into

an exercise in
the vagaries of legal minutia.

Well, I don't know
what you're talking about, Mr. Tappan,

but I'm talking about
the heart of the matter.

As am I.

It is our destiny

as abolitionists and as Christians
to save these people.

These are people, Mr. Baldwin.

Not livestock.

Did Christ hire a lawyer
to get him off on technicalities?

He went to the cross, nobly.
You know why?

To make a statement.

To make a statement, as must we.

But Christ lost.

- You, I think...
- No, sir, he did not.

Or, at least you, Mr. Joadson,
want to win, don't you?

- Yes.
- I certainly do.

Hell, sometimes
I don't get paid unless I do.

Which brings us back to
the earlier question of worth.

Now, in order to do a better job than

the attorney who represented
the Son of God,

I'll require $2.50 a day.

Who are they, do you think?

Looks like they're going to be sick.

They're entertainers.

...but why do they look so miserable?

You don't belong here.

Your table doesn't belong here.

This is Temne land.

How do you do, sir? How do you do?

You want to sit?
Sit over here in Mendeland.

What are you doing, Temne?

You want trouble?
Cross into our territory again.

What is this?
Get this table out of here.

Let me show you to Sherbroland.

There?

I'm sorry. I don't understand.

Excuse me. I...

My name is Roger Baldwin.

This is Theodore Joadson
of the Anti-Slavery Society

and owner of
the Forten Shipping Service.

And this is Professor Gibbs, a linguist.

What do you want?

Keep talking. Get them to talk.

Have you seen this before?

I could kill you with my bare hands
before you raise that sword shoulder high.

This belongs to you?

Does this...

No. No.

I need to know where you're from.

What did he say?

I didn't understand a word of it. It's gibberish.

- He said, I think, "Show me the map."
- Yes.

What do you think? Is he here to help us? Or?

I don't know.

He reminds me of that Fula of Baoma, you know the one--

...who hires himself out to scrape
elephant dung from the crop rows.

A dung-scraper might be just the
kind of man we need right now.

Here, Africa, is this where you're from?

Africa.

What does he want?

He's an idiot. He just likes to hear himself speak.

Were you born in the West Indies?

Were you born in the West Indies?

All three of them are idiots.

What did he say?

He said they have to go away.

- There they are!
- Damnation is God's way!

You cannot own another human being!

- Killers of white men!
- Slavery is tyranny!

Look, it's those miserable-looking people again.

God's blessing on you this morning.

I'm not afraid of you, or your medicine.

Yes. You place your hand on this book,
and I'll pray for you.

They're human beings, not animals!

Slavery will kill this country!

Then, in the quietude of the night,

after the Spaniards
attended their vespers,

and were deep in virtuous sleep,

the savages broke loose their collars

and stole onto the deck
like creatures of prey,

where they fell upon the unsuspecting
crew with these sabers and cane knives.

I cannot overstate
the inhumanity of their acts...

Have you figured out who he is?

...the savagery, the bloodshed.

An advisor of some kind. Maybe theirs.

Unsated by the mere deaths
of their victims,

they went on to mutilate
at least one of them...

What about him?

...to dismember him.
The simple cook, a Creole.

Their own kind.

Theirs maybe.

But for the bravery
of Señors Ruiz and Montes,

who fought their way to the stern

and steered the Amistad
to these shores,

under constant threat of like fate,

we might never have
heard of this massacre,

this bloodbath.

But for their bravery,

these villains most certainly
would have escaped justice.

But they've not. They've not.

And Dung-Scraper?

I have a horrible feeling he talks for us.

Do you know the difference
between a cow and a cabbage?

A brick and a bear?

Or how about
a polecat and a President?

Well, the Spanish government hopes

you don't have a whole lot more
common sense than that.

And I'll tell you why.

This case isn't about murder,
mayhem or massacres.

It's not about anything that dramatic.

This case is about knowing
the difference between here and there.

I want to show you something.

Open your mouth.

Of course, he doesn't
understand what I'm saying

because he doesn't speak English.

Doesn't he understand that?

I thought he was born
on a Cuban plantation.

That's what they're all saying.

Perhaps he simply just
doesn't like you, Mr. Baldwin.

He wouldn't be the first, Mr. Holabird.

Yes.

What, did he learn this on some Cuban
plantation, this decorative effect?

Cuban plantation.

Stand up. Stand up.

Hey.

Stand up.

Thank you.

Your Honor, I speak more Spanish,
and I was born in Philadelphia.

Your Honor, on Spanish plantations,
slaves always choose to live

surrounded by their own ways
and simple languages.

Pray tell, what need they know
of Spanish? Fetch? Carry? Stop?

Ofttimes, gestures suffice for slaves, as,
indeed, for any other beast of burden.

Your Honor.

I represent the interests
of Señors Ruiz and Montes.

I remember.

I have a bill of sale issued in Havana
for the purchase of slaves.

I remember that, too.

On it, in addition to the amounts paid
for each, are their names.

Jose, Bernardo, Paco and so on.

On behalf of my clients,
I submit this document to the court.

Mr. Baldwin, you've proffered
to this court this morning

a good deal of, I'll be kind,
circumstantial evidence.

Have you, in addition, anything, say,
in the order of actual documentation

that might refute this one,

and in so doing,
more compellingly support your claims?

I'm sure I could manufacture some
as easily as they have, Your Honor,

if that would suffice.

But what you're saying is,
then, you don't.

Is that correct?

I have them.

I'm afraid that does not impress me.

I thought you did quite well.

You do?

Much better than I expected,
to be honest.

Well, thank you, I think.

Although, I was concerned for a moment
that you might've forgotten

that this is just a case like any other.

Well, you needn't worry about that.

That's good.

Hello, Cinque.
My name is Roger Baldwin.

I'll be your attorney.

Yes. Thank you.

All right.

I need to prove where you're from.

You want to show them where we're from.

How are you supposed to tell me? I...

How can I explain to you where we're from?

Maybe, I -

Listen, why don't I... You go.

I'm sorry, you should talk first.

Here. This is where I'm from.

Here. This.

All of this. All of this is...

That's here.

...my home.

Here.

Cuba. Cuba's an island.

The Amistad. This is where you...

Where everyone was killed. Here.

Cuba, the Amistad.

Now, Cuba, is this your home?
I don't think so.

But... Excuse me.

Now...

Africa.

This is your home, isn't it?

This is your home. Yes?

You came all the way from here.

This...

This... Is how far I've come.

Secure the barrels for transport.

Put your backs into it, boys. Come on.

This is a court order
granting us permission to board

and search this vessel
for evidential purposes.

What did they want?

To come aboard.

I informed them they needed to obtain
one of these, an authentic one.

Aren't you coming?

Heave-ho!

The light. Light...

Light the lamp, Mr. Baldwin.

I'm trying.

Mr. Joadson!

Here.

You all right?

Yes.

These papers,

and I shall ask you to examine them,
are portions of a ship's manifest

I retrieved from the Amistad
yesterday eve.

At first glance, perhaps,

they may appear to bolster
the prosecution's case.

You see, they list cargo,

cargo bearing the very Spanish names

that Messrs. Ruiz and Montes
insist represent my clients,

hand-scrawled in the margins.

But, no, this is not the manifest
of the Amistad at all. Look.

This is part of the cargo manifest
of a Portuguese vessel,

the notorious transatlantic
slave ship, the Tecora.

The Tecora.

And I can bring you as many
witnesses as you wish, Mr. Holabird,

- to corroborate this.
- Tecora.

Their clients trade primarily
off the coast of West Africa,

the Ivory Coast, Sierra Leone.

I know what you're thinking.

Sierra Leone is a protectorate
of the British Crown.

Slavery is outlawed there.

Its principal port, in fact,
has been rechristened "Freetown."

How then,
can the Portuguese-flag-flying Tecora

engage in the slave trades
in these waters?

I'll tell you how, in a word.

Illegally.

Now, whatever these men say
from this point on clearly matters not

because this proves them liars.

My clients' journey
did not begin in Havana,

as they claim and keep claiming
more and more emphatically.

No, my clients' journey

began much, much further away.

I underestimated you, sir!

I really did!

Well, I should
take that as a compliment.

You should, indeed, sir.
You should, indeed.

You've done it, I think.

I can't imagine there's no not reaching
a favorable conclusion...

Hey! Hey!

Am I bleeding?

There's nothing there.

What did I do to deserve this?

You took the case, Mr. Baldwin.

You took the case, sir.

I should take that as a compliment.

"As you may perceive,

"I wish you to act promptly
before this matter of the Africans

"becomes a weight
on our two countries."

"Great countries."

"Our great countries.

"After all, the business
of great countries is to do business."

"Slavery is our pillar of commerce
in the New World.

"Without it, our goodwill
and excellent trade relations..."

- "Should be imperiled."
- "Should be imperiled.

"Without it, we might
have been denied the glory

"of aiding you in your virtuous
rebellion against the British.

"As slave-owning nations,
we must together stand firm.

"Speak the words of humaneness for
the masses of your citizens,

"but hold tightly to the power
that protects them.

"That power, of course, is their wealth.

"The Africans must never go free.

"With sincerest admiration,

"Isabella II, Queen of all of Spain."

I am not about to bend
to the will of some pubescent queen.

Forget about them. They're unimportant.

- Prepubescent.
- What you need to concern yourself with

is what this matter means here,
not an ocean away.

I wish someone would
tell me what it means!

Leder, you yourself
said it was meaningless.

Well, not anymore.

John Calhoun paid me a visit.

Oh, God.

To explain to me why this case
is of much greater import,

much greater symbolism,
to use his word,

to the South and the North.

Now, if the Africans are executed,

the abolitionists will
certainly make good use of it.

And, yes, they will make some converts.

If, on the other hand, they are freed,
if that happens,

Calhoun assures me
the Southern states will

so ally themselves against you,
that you can forget about re-election.

Over this?

It's worse than that.

Worse? What could be worse than that?

Calhoun believes, and I am not sure
I can entirely disagree with him,

that this could take us all
one long step closer to civil war.

This?

Yes, Mr. President.

But all is not lost.

Yes, the jury appears
disposed towards freeing them.

But juries can be dismissed.

They can?

But I believe we must go further
and remove the judge.

We can do that?

He could be prevailed upon to recuse
himself for any number of reasons.

And with that in mind,

I've taken the liberty
of exploring possible replacements,

and I've found one
I strongly believe to be better.

He's young, which means he has
a career before him rather than behind,

which means he has yet
to feel the hankering

for magnanimous last gestures
for the sake of posterity.

And he is monumentally insecure,
particularly about his Catholic heritage.

- He's Catholic?
- His grandfather was Catholic,

which young Mr. Coglin
has striven all his days to keep quiet.

Mr. President, meet Judge Coglin.

Judge Coglin,
we are so pleased to meet you.

Thank you so much for coming.

I've been reading in the papers

the continuing saga of the Amistad.

Real papers.

Real papers. Yes, sir.

Yes. Bad luck,
this last unfolding chapter.

What to do now?

Which is precisely why I came to
Massachusetts and imposed on you, sir.

No imposition, really.

Yeah.

How did that...

How did that young lawyer
take the news?

In stride, sir. In stride.

The thing is, sir, he did everything right.

- He proved the case.
- Did he?

Yes, sir. Surprisingly, he did.

Good.

Well, he'll just have to do it again, then,
won't he?

But like most things, it should be
easier the second time around.

Well, I'm afraid it doesn't matter
what he does now, sir.

Rumor has it our next judge
was handpicked by Van Buren himself.

No!

Well, I'm embarrassed to admit
that I was under the misconception

that our executive
and judicial branches were separate.

No more so than these, Mr. Joadson.

No more so than these.

So now you know.

Yes.

- Sir?
- Yeah?

Mr. President, if it was you
handling the case...

But it isn't me. And thank God for that.

But if it was, sir,

what would you do?

Well, when I was an attorney
a long time ago, young man,

I realized after much trial and error

that in a courtroom

whoever tells the best story wins.

In unlawyer-like fashion, I give you
that scrap of wisdom free of charge.

I'm much obliged for your time, sir.

What is their story, by the way?

Sir?

What is their story?

Why, they're...

They're from West Africa.

No. What is their story?

Mr. Joadson,
you're from where originally?

Why, Georgia, sir.

- Georgia.
- Yes, sir.

Does that pretty much
sum up what you are?

A Georgian? Is that your story?

No. You're an ex-slave
who's devoted his life

to the abolition of slavery,
and overcoming great obstacles

and hardships along the way,
I should imagine.

That's your story, isn't it?

You and this young so-called lawyer
have proven you know what they are.

They're Africans. Congratulations.

What you don't know,
and, as far as I can tell,

haven't bothered in the least to discover
is who they are.

Right?

Seven.

Eight.

Number nine.

And 10.

Now, how about you, Mr. Baldwin?

Would you like to count from one to 10?

One to 10 in Mende.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Right. Five.

Fresh fruit! Fresh fruit!
Straight from the Caribbean!

What's happened here?

I don't know.
One of them died last night.

We tried to take
the body away to bury it.

Well, what do they want?
They want to live with it?

They want to bury him.

They have to bury him
according to their Poro beliefs.

Otherwise, his soul
will haunt them forever.

If I were you, if I ran this place,

I'd set protocol aside just this once
and let them bury him.

I was thinking the same thing.

My name is Kai Nyagua -

My name is Kai Nyagua -
and James Covey.

I speak Mende and English -
his language.

You and he will talk to each other through me.

The clothes?

And the names.

I was rescued off a slave
ship by the British Navy.

I never went back.

A problem has arisen.

The judge we had, who believed,
I believe,

that you should be freed,
has been dismissed.

A new judge has been called upon
to hear the case,

this time without a jury.

How is that possible?
A chief cannot be replaced.

I can't explain it in any way
that you would understand, Cinque.

Or me, for that matter.
Only that, well, it has happened.

I am not a great orator
or advisor, Cinque.

I'm not a big man in my profession.

I don't know that I alone can convince
this next judge to set you free.

I need your help.

When we go to court,
I need you to speak.

I'm not an advisor of any kind.

I cannot speak for the others.

Cinque, the others, they say you can.

They say you're the big man here.

I am not.

What's this I hear about a lion?

They say you alone, alone, Cinque,

slew the most terrifying beast
anyone has ever seen.

Is it not true?

It had killed several people.

Even hunters among us.

Everyone, including me, was afraid.

I was lying down with my family
when out of nowhere it appeared.

As it came for me,

I picked up this big rock and I threw it.

And by some miracle, you see, I hit it.

He don't know how that killed it,
but it did.

A rock.

A rock.

I received the gratitude
of everyone in the village.

I was given respect.

They treated me as if I was a prince.

They gave me the fine country cloth.

All these things they gave me,
I took them all.

But I knew I didn't deserve it.

For when I threw that rock at that beast

if I had missed him...

He said he wouldn't be
sitting here today

trying to explain these things
to you or me or...

He'd just be dead.

Understand?

You understand?

I'm not a big man, just a lucky one.

I might agree with you, Cinque,
except you're forgetting something.

The other lion.

The Amistad, Cinque. The insurrection.

That, too, was an accident?
I hardly think so.

That wasn't bravery.

Any man would do the same
to get back to his family.

You yourself would do it.

Someone said that might be yours.

My wife gave it to me.

To keep me safe.

Cinque, I need you to tell me
how you got here.

I'll hit you in the head again if you talk.

I'll share the profit of my harvest.
I'll give you all of it if you -

Lomboko Slave Fortress

This one's sick, don't give him any.

Her.

Not her.

Her.

Havana, Cuba

Bernardo.

I wanted to kill them, too.

For they convinced some of us
that they would take us back home.

Thank you, sir.

Mr. Holabird.

Quite a tale.

Intrigue, abduction,

courage in the face
of unspeakable suffering.

And all true. All right.
Now tell me if this is true.

Certain tribes in Africa,
for hundreds of years,

thousands, perhaps,
have owned slaves.

Translate.

Yes.

And under what circumstances
might one become a slave,

say, among the Mende,
of which you claim to belong?

Translate.

Wars, debts.

I see.

And how many men
are indebted to you?

- I don't think you do see.
- Excuse me?

- Your Honor, Mr. Holabird...
- It's different.

...is trying to intimidate my colleague.

The Mende word for "slave"
is closer in meaning to "worker."

Do these workers
own the land they work on?

Do they receive wages?

Are these workers free to
not work for you, if they so choose?

Your Honor,
he's questioning the translator.

No, the translator is answering
for the witness, Your Honor.

- The witness isn't being given a chance.
- Mr. Baldwin!

Fine, fine, Mr. Baldwin!

Slavery, indentured servitude.

Whatever they want to call it,
I don't mind.

The concept is the same.

Now, he is familiar with the concept.

After all, when you come down to it,
it's all about money, isn't it?

Slaves, production, money.
I mean, that's the idea of it.

Whether it's here or there. I'm confused.

Do your people
routinely slaughter their slaves

in the manner that you just
so vividly described to us?

Of course they don't.
What would be the point of that?

I mean, killing your own slaves is rather
like burning down your own house

or hut, isn't it?

How do you explain that paradox?

I don't understand what you mean.

Sure you do. As does everyone here.

The behavior you attribute
to your tormentors,

your victims, to be more precise,

and therefore every other
aspect of your testimony,

makes no sense.

Not even to you.

But thank you for it.

Like all good works of fiction,
it was entertaining.

Nothing more.

Captain Fitzgerald, please explain to us

your primary duties
in Her Majesty's navy.

To patrol the Ivory Coast for slave ships.

Because?

Because slavery is banned
in British law, sir.

Yet the abduction of free men from
the British protectorate of Sierra Leone

and their illegal transportation
to the New World,

as described by Cinque,
is not unheard of, is it?

Not even unusual, regrettably.

Well, what, if anything, in his account
of his ordeal do you find believable?

His description of the slave fortress,
for one thing.

There is such a place.

You've seen it?

No, sir. We've not managed to locate it,

but there is overwhelming evidence
that it is real.

What evidence, exactly? Rumor?

Reports.

By "reports" you mean of the variety
Cinque shared with us today?

Its existence, sir, has been reported.

Cinque describes
the cold-blooded murder

of a significant portion of the people
on board the Tecora.

Mr. Holabird sees this as a paradox.
Do you, sir?

Often when slavers are intercepted,
or believe they may be,

they simply throw all
their prisoners overboard

and thereby rid themselves
of the evidence of their crime.

Drown hundreds of people?

Yes.

It hardly seems a lucrative business
to me, this slave-trading.

Going to all that trouble
rounding everybody up

only to throw them overboard.

No, it's very lucrative.

If only we could corroborate
Cinque's story somehow

with evidence of some kind.

The inventory.

This? From the Tecora?

If you look,
there's a notation made on May 10

correcting the number of slaves on
board, reducing their number by 50.

What does that mean?

Well, if you look at it
in conjunction with Cinque's testimony,

I would say that it means this.

The Tecora crew,
having greatly underestimated

the amount of provisions
required for their journey,

solved the problem
by throwing 50 people overboard.

I'm looking at the same
inventory, Captain,

and I'm sorry, I don't see where it says,

"This morning,
we threw 50 slaves overboard."

On May 10 or any other day.

As of course you would not.

I do see that the cargo weight changed.

They reduced the poundage, I see,
but that is all.

It's simple, ghastly arithmetic.

Well, for you, perhaps.

I may need a quill and parchment
and a better imagination.

And what poundage do you imagine
the entry may refer to, sir?

A mast and sails, perhaps?

Give us, us free.

Give us free.

Give us, us free.

Give us free.

Your Honor,
please instruct the defendant

that he cannot disrupt
these proceedings with such outbursts.

Give us, us free!

If we are to have any semblance
of order in this court, Your Honor...

- Give us, us free! Give us, us free!
- He cannot keep crying out...

Cannot keep crying out, "Give us free,"

- or anything else...
- Give us, us free!

...while I am trying
to question this witness!

Give us, us free!

Give us, us free!

You don't have to pretend to be interested in that.

Nobody's watching but me.

I'm not pretending.
I'm beginning to understand it.

Their people have suffered more than ours...
Their lives were full of suffering.

Then he was born and everything changed.

Who is he?

I don't know, but everywhere he goes,
he is followed by the sun.

Here he is healing people with his hands.

Protecting them...

Being given children...

What's this?

He could also walk across the sea.

But then something happened...

He was captured. Accused of some crime.

Here he is with his hands tied.

He must have done something.

Why? What did we do?

Whatever it was, it was serious enough
to kill him for it.

Do you want to see how they killed him?

This is just a story, Yamba.

But look. That's not the end of it.

His people took his body down
from this... thing... this...

They took him into a cave.
They wrapped him in a cloth, like we do.

They thought he was dead, but he appeared
before his people again... and spoke to them.

Then, finally, he rose into the sky.

This is where the soul goes when you die here.

This is where we're going when they kill us.

It doesn't look so bad.

Buakei...

Buakei... Hold your head up.

All rise.

After careful review
and thorough reflection,

I find it impossible to deny
the power of the government's position.

There is no doubt in my mind
that District Attorney Holabird,

Her Catholic Majesty, Isabella of Spain,

and her trusted minister,
Señor Calderon,

have all proceeded with the utmost faith

in the soundness of their case.

I also believe
that Señors Ruiz and Montes

may have misrepresented

the origin of the prisoners.

An issue which weighs crucially
upon their fate,

and that of the Spaniards as well.

Were they born in Africa?

But since the answer
to that fundamental question

shall so heavily govern every
determination of this court,

I ask it again.

Were they born in Africa?

I believe they were.

As such, Her Catholic Majesty's
claims of ownership have no merit.

Neither, of course, do those for salvage

made by Lieutenants Meade
and Gedney.

This is outrageous!

I hereby order the immediate arrest and
detention of Señors Ruiz and Montes

by federal marshals

on the charge of slave-trading!

Yes!

The release of the Africans

and their conveyance,
by this government

at her earliest convenience
and expense,

back to their homes in Africa!

Yes!

We've done it, Joadson!
We've done it! Yes!

- Covey, tell them! Tell them now!
- I think they know.

Look at 'em.

What's most bewildering to Her Majesty

is this arrogant independence
of the American courts.

After all, if you cannot rule the courts,
you cannot rule.

Señor Calderon,
as any true American will tell you,

it's the independence of our courts
that keeps us free.

John, glad you're here.

- Mr. Forsyth.
- The President...

Mr. President? Senator Calhoun is here.

John!

I was afraid you weren't
going to be able to join us.

You may put that fear to rest,
Mr. President.

Thank you. Please.

I'd like you to meet Señor Calderon,
ambassador from Spain.

I thought you said he wasn't coming.

He said he wasn't.

You see, Señor Calderon,

there's a growing number of people
in this part of the country

that regard us in the South

as not only geographically
beneath them.

They ignore the fact

that slavery is so interwoven
into the fabric of this society,

that to destroy it would be
to destroy us as a people.

It's immoral. That's all they know.

Therefore, so are we.

Immoral and inferior.

We are inferior in one area.

We're not as proficient in the art of gain.

We're not as wealthy
as our northern neighbors.

We're still struggling.

Take away our life's blood now...

Well, we all know what happens then,

North and South.

They become the masters,
and we the slaves.

But not without a fight.

Senator Calhoun is being modest.

He's not inferior in another area.
The art of exaggeration.

Ask yourself, Señor Calderon,

what court wants to be responsible for
the spark that ignites the firestorm?

What President wants to be in office

when it comes crashing
down around him?

Certainly no court before this one.

Certainly no President before this one.

So,

judge us not too harshly, sir,

and bid Her Majesty like,

because the real determination our
courts and our President must make

is not whether
this ragtag group of Africans

raised swords against their enemy,

but rather, must we?

Come along, Mr. Joadson.

This news...

Well, of course, it's bad news,
but the truth is

they may be more valuable
to our struggle in death than in life.

Martyrdom, Mr. Joadson.

From the dawn of Christianity, we have
seen no stronger power for change.

Well, you know it's true.

What is true, Mr. Tappan,

and believe me when I tell you
I've seen this,

is that there are some men
whose hatred of slavery

is stronger than anything

except for the slave himself.

If you wish to inspire such hatred
in a man, Mr. Joadson,

speak to him in that fashion
and it may come true.

Our President, our big, big man,

has appealed the decision
to our Supreme Court.

What does that mean?

We have to try the case again.

Now, I know it's hard
to understand, Cinque.

I don't understand, for that matter.

You said there would be a judgment,

and if we won the judgment
we would go free!

No, no. What I said is that
we won it at the state level.

- No, no, no.
- That's what you said!

What I said, that if we won it
at the state level, we then go on.

That's what you said!

- That's what you said.
- All right, yeah. Yes, I said it!

I said it, but I shouldn't have.
What I should've said...

- I can't translate that.
- You can't translate what?

I can't translate "should."

You saying
there's no word in Mende for "should"?

No. Either you do something,
or you don't do it.

What I meant to say...
What I meant to say?

Not in the way you mean it.

Try and understand me.

"Meant" is the same as "should."
You're misunderstanding the language.

Cinque, Cinque. Cinque!

Listen to me. Listen to me.
Understand what I'm saying.

What I said to you
before the judgment...

What I said to you before the judgment
is almost how it works here.

Almost.

Almost.

Yes, Cinque. But not always.

Yes. And that's what's happened.

What kind of place is this?

Where you almost mean what you say?
Where laws almost work?

How can you live like that?

"To His Excellency,
John Quincy Adams,

"Massachusetts member,
House of Representatives.

"I have understood from Mr. Joadson

"that you are acquainted with
the plight of the Amistad Africans.

"If that is true, then you
are aware that we have been,

"at every step, successful in
our presentation of their case.

"Yet despite this,

"and despite the unlikelihood
of President Van Buren's re-election,

"he has appealed our most recent
favorable decision

"to the highest court in the land.

"As I'm sure you are well aware,

"seven of nine of these
Supreme Court justices

"are themselves Southern slave owners.

"Sir, we need you.

"If ever there was a time for a man
to cast aside his daily trappings

"and array himself for battle,
that time has come."

Thank you.

"Cicero once said, appealing to
Claudius in defense of the Republic,

"that the whole result of this entire war

"depends on the life of one
most brave and excellent man.

"In our time, in this instance,
I believe it depends on two.

"A courageous man, at present in irons
in New Haven, named Cinque,

"and you, sir.

"Sincerely, Roger S. Baldwin,
attorney-at-law."

Mr. Tippings, excuse me
a moment, please.

- Any word from Mr. Adams?
- What did Cinque say?

He won't talk to you.

He won't talk to me?

No.

How's your English coming?

No better than my Mende, I suppose.

You know, Cinque,
I realize this isn't something

you necessarily want to think about,

but has it occurred to you
that I'm all you've got?

Because as it happens,

since my practice has completely
deteriorated in the past months,

you're all I've got.

See, this is me. You see?

You see? You see how this works?

And this here, Cinque, is for me.

More death threats.

Some of them signed.
By my own clients, no less.

I should say former clients, shouldn't I?

There is one more consequence
to having no clientele to speak of.

I am now free

to sit here as long as it takes
for you to acknowledge me.

Yes, you understood that word,
didn't you? "Free."

All right.

Then we'll just sit.

Caesar.

Cicero's appeal was to Julius Caesar,
not Claudius.

Claudius would not be born
for another hundred years.

You were right, there was one of them.

Is that him?

Yes, Mr. President.

Please unlock this door.

Adams has flirted with
the abolitionists for 15 years,

but has yet to take one
home from the dance.

How old is he anyway?

Old enough to know he's too old
to take anyone home from the dance.

I hear he sleeps through three-quarters
of the sessions on the Hill.

Let's see. President, slumbering
congressman from Massachusetts,

jail-house lawyer, one waits
with great anticipation for what's next.

- Well, what must that be like?
- What?

Knowing all your life,
whatever your accomplishments,

you'll only be remembered
as the son of a great father.

The only thing John Quincy Adams
will be remembered for

is his middle name.

I wonder, is there anything
as pathetic as an ex-President?

I was talking about John...

- Sir.
- Yes?

Cinque has asked me to ask you

whether you have thought about
the question of jurisdiction.

What?

That since they took over the ship
far out to sea,

and since neither Spain
nor America owns the sea,

how is it that the treaty applies?

Tell him the treaty recognizes
no jurisdictional limitations.

- Well?
- He will ask me why.

Because I said so.

Excuse me, sir.

Yes?

Cinque would like to know

that if he is the legal property
of Ruiz and Montes,

then how does the treaty apply,
since it is between America and Spain?

Or their citizens.

"Or their citizens" is included
in the language, if he must know.

Thank you, sir.

It's a good point, though.

Does Great Britain have
any treaties with West Africa

which may override those
between Spain and America?

No.

Does Great Britain have
any treaties with America

which might override
those between Spain and...

No.

Does the American government have
any treaties with West Africa?

No.

Does Spain have
any treaties with West Africa?

No!

Does the Commonwealth of Connecticut
have any treaties with West Africa?

No, no, no, no! Now stop this!

Unshackle him.

I'm sorry, sir.
I'm under strict orders to ensure the...

Unshackle him, please.

Yes, Mr. President.

This is a Phalaenopsis, moth orchid,
I brought over from China.

And this is a primrose
from an English garden.

And this spear lily,
from the south of France.

This is my rose, Blush Noisette.

This came all the way
from Washington DC,

but don't tell anyone.

Go on, go on.

African violet. I can't tell you
how difficult that was to come by.

Now, you understand
you're going to the Supreme Court.

Do you know why?

It is the place where they finally kill us.

No. Well, yes, that may be true, too.

That's not what I meant.

No, there is another reason
and a more important reason.

Although, I'll admit that
perhaps more so to us than you.

All right, don't... Yeah.

Cinque.

Do you know who I am?
Has anyone told you about me?

Yes.

What have they told you?

That you are a chief.

I was a chief, yes.

A chief cannot become anything
less than a chief, even in death.

How I wish such were true here, Cinque.

You've no idea.

One tries to govern wisely,
strongly, but...

One tries to govern in a way that
betters the lives of one's villagers.

One tries to kill the lion.

Unfortunately, one isn't always
wise enough or strong enough.

Time passes

and the moment is gone.

Now, listen, Cinque. Listen.

We're about to bring your case

before the highest court in our land.

We're about to do battle with a lion

that is threatening
to rip our country in two.

And all we have on our side is a rock.

Of course, you didn't ask
to be at the center

of this historic conflagration
any more than I did,

but we find ourselves here nonetheless

by some mysterious mix
of circumstances

and all the world watching.

So, what are we to do?

Is he going to help? He has far
many more questions than answers.

- What'd he just say?
- Sorry. I didn't catch it.

Cinque, look. I'm being honest with you.

Anything less would be disrespectful.

I'm telling you, I'm preparing you,

I suppose I'm explaining to you

that the test ahead of us is
an exceptionally difficult one.

We won't be going in there alone.

Alone? Indeed not. No.
We have right at our side.

We have righteousness at our side.

We have Mr. Baldwin over there.

I meant my ancestors.

I will call into the past,

far back to the beginning of time,

and beg them to come and help me

at the judgment.

I will reach back and draw them into me.

And they must come,

for at this moment, I am the
whole reason they have existed at all.

Thank you.

Your Honors,

I derive much consolation

from the fact that my colleague,
Mr. Baldwin here,

has argued the case

in so able and so complete a manner

as to leave me scarcely anything to say.

However,

why are we here?

How is it that a simple,
plain property issue

should now find itself so ennobled
as to be argued before

the Supreme Court of
the United States of America?

I mean, do we fear the lower courts,
which found for us easily,

somehow missed the truth? Is that it?

Or is it, rather, our great
and consuming fear of civil war

that has allowed us to heap symbolism

upon a simple case
that never asked for it?

And now would have us disregard truth

even as it stands before us,
tall and proud as a mountain.

The truth,

in truth, has been driven
from this case like a slave,

flogged from court to court,
wretched and destitute.

And not by any great legal acumen

on the part of the opposition,
I might add.

But through the long,
powerful arm of the executive office.

Yea, this is no mere property case.
Gentlemen, I put it to you thus.

This is the most important case
ever to come before this court.

Because what it in fact concerns

is the very nature of man.

These are...

These are transcriptions of letters

written between our
Secretary of State, John Forsyth,

and the Queen of Spain, Isabella II.

Now, I ask that you

accept their perusal
as part of your deliberations.

Thank you, sir.

I would not touch on them now
except to notice

a curious phrase
which is much repeated.

The Queen again and again
refers to our "incompetent courts."

Now what, I wonder,
would be more to her liking?

A court that finds against the Africans?

Well, I think not.

And here is the fine point of it.

What Her Majesty wants is a court
that behaves just like her courts,

the courts
this 11-year-old child plays with

in her magical kingdom called Spain.

A court that will do what it is told.

A court that can be toyed with
like a doll.

A court, as it happens,
of which our own President,

Martin Van Buren, would be most proud.

Thank you.

This is a publication
of the office of the President.

It's called The Executive Review,
and I'm sure you all read it.

At least I'm sure
the President hopes you all read it.

This is a recent issue,
and there's an article in here

written by
"a keen mind of the South," who...

My former Vice President,
John Calhoun, perhaps.

Could it be?

Who asserts that "there has never
existed a civilized society

"in which one segment did not
thrive upon the labor of another.

"As far back as one chooses to look,

"to ancient times, to biblical times,

"history bears this out.

"In Eden, where only two were created,

"even there, one was pronounced
subordinate to the other.

"Slavery has always been with us
and is neither sinful nor immoral.

"Rather, as war and antagonism
are the natural states of man,

"so, too, slavery,
as natural as it is inevitable."

Well, gentlemen, I must say I differ
with the keen minds of the South

and with our President,
who apparently shares their views,

offering that the natural state
of mankind is instead,

and I know this is a controversial idea,

is freedom.

Is freedom.

And the proof is the length
to which a man,

woman or child will go
to regain it, once taken.

He will break loose his chains.

He will decimate his enemies.

He will try and try and try,

against all odds, against all prejudices,

to get home.

Cinque, would you stand up,
if you would,

so everyone can see you.

This man is black. We can all see that.

But can we also see as easily
that which is equally true?

That he is the only
true hero in this room.

Now, if he were white, he wouldn't be
standing before this court,

fighting for his life.

If he were white
and his enslavers were British,

he wouldn't be able to stand,

so heavy the weight of
the medals and honors

we would bestow upon him.

Songs would be written about him.

The great authors of our times
would fill books about him.

His story would be told

and retold in our classrooms.

Our children,
because we would make sure of it,

would know his name
as well as they know Patrick Henry's.

Yet, if the South is right,

what are we to do with that
embarrassing, annoying document,

the Declaration of Independence?

What of its conceits?

"All men created equal,"
"inalienable rights,"

"life, liberty," and so on and so forth?

What on Earth are we to do with this?

I have a modest suggestion.

The other night I was talking
with my friend Cinque.

He was over at my place, and we were
out in the greenhouse together.

And he was explaining to me
how when a member of the Mende,

that's his people...

How when a member of the Mende
encounters a situation

where there appears no hope at all,

he invokes his ancestors.

Tradition.

See, the Mende believe that if one can
summon the spirit of one's ancestors,

then they have never left,

and the wisdom and strength
they fathered and inspired

will come to his aid.

James Madison, Alexander Hamilton,

Benjamin Franklin,

Thomas Jefferson,

George Washington,

John Adams.

We have long resisted
asking you for guidance.

Perhaps we have feared in doing so,

we might acknowledge
that our individuality,

which we so, so revere,
is not entirely our own.

Perhaps we've feared

an appeal to you
might be taken for weakness.

But we've come to understand, finally,
that this is not so.

We understand now,

we've been made to understand

and to embrace the understanding

that who we are is who we were.

We desperately need
your strength and wisdom

to triumph over our fears,
our prejudices, ourselves.

Give us the courage to do what is right.

And if it means civil war,
then let it come.

And when it does,

may it be, finally,

the last battle
of the American Revolution.

That's all I have to say.

In the case of The United States
of America v. The Amistad Africans,

it is the opinion of this court

that our treaty of 1795 with Spain,

on which the prosecution has
primarily based its arguments,

is inapplicable.

While it is clearly stipulated in Article 9

that, and I quote,
seized ships and cargo

are to be returned entirely
to their proprietary,

the end of quote,

it has not been shown
to the court's satisfaction

that these particular Africans
fit that description.

We are then left with the alternative,

that they are not slaves

and therefore cannot
be considered merchandise

but are, rather, free individuals

with certain legal and moral rights,

including the right
to engage in insurrection

against those who would
deny them their freedom.

And therefore, over one dissent,

it is the court's judgment

that the defendants are to be
released from custody at once

and, if they so choose,

to be returned to their homes in Africa.

Good job.

Thank you.

Well...

What did you say to them?

What words did you use
to persuade them?

Yours.

To keep you safe.

Thank you, Baldwin.

The Liberation of Lomboko Slave Fortress

Fire!

Let's get a move on! Lively now!

All clear, sir.

- Fire.
- Fire!

- Fire.
- Fire!

Fire.

Fire.

Fire.

William Henry Harrison defeated Martin Van Buren
to become the ninth President of the United States.

Take a letter, Ensign.

To His Honor, the United States
Secretary of State, Mr. John Forsyth.

"My dear Mr. Forsyth,

"it is my great pleasure to inform you
that you are, in fact, correct.

"The slave fortress in Sierra Leone
does not exist."

Queen Isabella of Spain continued to argue the
Amistad matter with seven more American Presidents.

In 1864, her hopes of "compensation" finally collapsed
with the Confederate Army's defeat at Atlanta.

Cinque returned to Sierra Leone
to find his own people engaged in civil war.

His village was destroyed and his family gone.

It is believed they were sold into slavery.