All language subtitles for Hell on Wheels - S03E02 - Eminent Domain - [B]

I see why they call this place
Hell on Wheels.

Rough men, loose women,
whiskey, sin, and guns.

It ain't a church social, ma'am.

I'm not sure your bosses at Crédit Mobilier
would want me to put that in the newspaper.

What is it that holds you to
this enterprise, Mr. Bohannon?

Every piece of steel we lay
puts us closer to somewheres else.

That's about all I can say.

So it's more personal
than just laying rail.

You're the writer. Ho!

Mr. Bohannon,
people of this country

believe the railroad is robbing
the National Treasury.

My job is to dissuade my readers
of that notion.

Unfortunately, our brief interview
was not enough to dissuade me.

And it ain't my job
to fix what people think.

In fact, it is.

You are the face
of the Transcontinental Railroad now.

And either this is
a brave and noble endeavor,

or it's Sodom and Gomorrah.

Which is it?

The sooner you help me accurately report
what's going on out here,

the sooner I can leave
and make both our lives less miserable.

And for the record,
I covered the war '63 to '65.

I know the difference between hell
and a church social.

What more you need to see?

Everything-

- Come on then.

♪ She was born in Jackson, baby... ♪

Grading crews work ahead
of the tie-layers.

100 miles west,
surveyors lay out the route.

- How many men do you have?
- Near 3,000.

Work six days a week,
sunup, sundown.

$1.50 a day. Them's good wages.

How many miles do you make a day?

Two now,
weather and Indians permittin'.

Rust eaters lay the rails.

Walking boss makes sure
the gauge is right.

Spiker teams secure the rails
to the ground.

Fish-plates tie them together.

Three swings of the hammer
per spike,

10 spikes per rail,
400 rails to a mile,

1,500 miles to Sacramento.

Do you really believe
you can win the race

against the Central Pacific
to build this road?

Wouldn't be here otherwise.

You think you can do it without
Thomas Durant's political connections?

Without his money,
his ego to drive it on?

Well, here I stand,
and here he don't.

- Excuse me.
- One more question.

Why you?

Each car sleeps 60 men.

Keeps them out of the weather
and close to the work.

Lady coming through!

Who designed these cars?

Mostly me.

Yeah, I'm still working out
the ventilation.

Two weeks ago, these men were starving,
out of work,

straight off the boats
in New York.

My newspaper's reported Irish labor bosses
conscripting them out here for a fee.

How is that any different
from indentured servitude?

Union Pacific offers free rail passage
and a week's wages on arrival.

We got more applicants
than we got work.

Really?

Your idea again?

Didn't much care for the labor bosses
I met in New York.

New cemetery runs from the sawmill
up to the ridge line.

Ain't a day goes by
we don't put some one or two

in the ground up there.

Most from railroad mishaps.

And the others?

Spare time mishaps.

Is that where the fair-haired
maiden of the west is buried?

No, she's buried in
a wildflower field she liked.

- Did you know her?
- A bit.

Well, you must've known her
better than that

if you knew where she wanted
to be buried.

Mrs. Bell should've left Hell on Wheels
when she had the chance.

This ain't no place for a lady.

Less'n she's a whore.

I can assure you, Mr. Bohannon,
I am neither a lady, nor a whore.

Figured you'd have to be a little bit
of both, being a newspaper woman.

Get outta here.

You figured wrong.

You Bohannon?

I am.

Keep your railroad off my property.

I won't tell you again.

Where'd they come from?

No idea.

Train for Omaha leaves in an hour.

I expect you won't wanna miss it.

Howdy.

Who are you?

You come pawin' around for turmoil,
you best think twice, friend.

- This is my office.
- Mr. Ferguson.

Dick Barlow.
Just arrived from Omaha.

Didn't Mr. Bohannon tell you
to expect me?

No.

What you want in here?

Well, I can tell by looking,
you ain't short a hat size,

so I guess you know.

I'm new Chief of Railroad Police.

You work for me now.

Coffee?

My grandpap taught me
how to make it.

The trick is not to over-boil.

And, of course, the sock.

Now, I use a clean one.

But pap swore the riper the sock,
the richer the brew.

I like a dollop of fresh cream in mine,

but it ain't real regular
I come across it.

And kicking don't get you nowhere,
less'n you're a mule.

So mostly,
I just take mine black.

Mr. Bohannon ain't said nothing
about me working for nobody.

Well, it ain't no good cold now.

Go on.

That's it.

That'll get your hair
out of the butter every time.

Don't want no trouble.

- Came to talk.
- What about?

Think you know.

Come ahead.

You survived the war?

- I did.
- You a Johnny Reb?

Yes, sir. Yeah, I was.

So you know a little about what it's
like, somebody comes, takes your land.

Everything I had's been took.

Indians killed my father and my brother,
his wives and kids.

My wives and I,
we buried 'em on the same hill

I pulled our surveyor stakes out of.

My family bled for this land,
Mr. Bohannon,

carved this place
out of a wilderness nobody wanted.

It is by Heavenly Father's decree

that we are here,
and it shall be by His will,

not yours, that we leave.

Even God can't stop
the railroad, Mr. Hatch.

It would destroy all we built,

take away our home.

You have my word.

You'll get a square deal.

Now, now,
that's the best I can do.

- Could go around.
- Boy.

Ain't nothin' but wilderness
and Lamanites out here, Father.

I said that's enough.

You will excuse
my son's manners.

He's got some growing still to do.

Tell you what. Urn...

Let me see if my surveyors
can't find a way around.

Now, that...
that's not a promise...

if it can't be done,
you'll still have to move.

But... it don't cost nothing to try.

Well, a journey through these lands

at this hour is a foolish one,
Mr. Bohannon.

You are welcome to stay till morning.

Much obliged.

Seen me a Mormon man killed once.

Liberty, Missouri...

During the war.

As if them white folk
didn't have enough to fight about,

county sheriff run him through with a sword

on account of him
being a "Palgemist".

Yep, they didn't like them no "Palgemists"
in Liberty, Missouri.

Like they Mormons
didn't like them no negroes.

Yeah, they a nasty bunch.

I think you mean polygamist.

What'd I say?

"Palgemists".

I knew it was something like that.

Why a man gotta get hisself killed
over being a polygamist?

It's the custom of having more
than one wife at the same time.

More than one wife, you say?

At the same time?

Well, damn.
No wonder they nasty.

Sand, mud, lime.

Soil like that no good
for the grade, boss.

Take a lot of lumber to build.

Yeah, rock wall be better,
but that take time,

and rock, which we ain't got.

I've surveyed several routes
through here, Mr. Bohannon.

Sand hills stretch at least
100 miles to the north.

We'd have to go south
to get around that farm.

- How far?
- 40 mile, maybe more.

40 mile'll put us behind schedule
by five weeks.

Yes, sir.

I met the new police chief.

You ain't happy,
track runs both ways.

Where's the livestock?
It's complicated.

Tell you what's complicated, son,
3,000 hungry men.

What I mean is,
I've been on the job for two days.

And deciphering these books
is quite the task.

Near as I can tell,
Mr. Durant formed several companies

to supply livestock
to the railroad.

Now that he's departed,

the contracts have been... canceled.

Then find some other damn place, Sean.

Council Bluffs, Denver, shit, Chicago...

I would, um, but it seems
that Mr. Durant has,

in addition to canceling our contracts
with his companies,

cornered the market on livestock
in Omaha as well.

Shit!

Should've killed that son of a bitch
when I had the chance.

May I quote you on that,
Mr. Bohannon?

You don't say nothing to her
about railroad business, you hear me?

Yes, sir.

- Still here?
- Missed my train.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

We missed you at services
this morning, Mr. Bohannon.

Was there something
I can help you with?

Thought I'd look in is all.

You gave us a good place...

High, dry ground,
upwind of the slaughterhouse.

- Thank you.
- It's good. It's good for the men, I mean.

' And you?

Sorry...

Railroad has to move a family
of homesteaders off their land.

They're digging in.
And, they're Mormon.

I wonder if you've had any cause to know
what they might be like as people.

The Latter Day Saints are not
a legitimate Church of Christ.

They treat their women as slaves.
They take child brides.

They're a violent people.

They'll fight then, you think?

It has been their way. Yes.

They got children with 'em.

Then you'll find another way.

By God's grace.

God's been slack with the grace of late.

Then show them yours,
Mr. Bohannon.

What I'm proposing
is a major new commercial hub,

the most important railroad city
in the United States.

And it will be right here,
in your backyard.

That is literally my backyard.

You see that pretty confluence
of good sweet-water streams?

Well, it ain't much,
but it's on my land.

My husband left me all of this
when he passed in '62.

Well, it may be your land now, madam,

but the Union Pacific Railroad
will reach it before the year is out.

And, through eminent domain,
they will claim it.

That's against the law.

It is the law.

And by law, the Union Pacific
is compelled to offer you

a fair market price for your land,
currently $1.50 an acre.

- I'd never sell for that.
- And you won't have to.

Because as a representative
and major stockholder of Credit Mobilier,

I am prepared to offer you
$100 per acre,

thus waiving eminent domain.

- What's the rub?
- Well...

In order to waive eminent domain,

we must build a railroad terminus

and a town on the property,
which we will.

Every pound of beef,
every ton of ore,

every fruit, vegetable, every bale of hay
from either side of the Mississippi...

must ship through our town.

You will become rich
beyond your wildest dreams.

- Weren't you in jail just a month ago?
- Yes.

And you're broke,
according to the newspapers.

- Flat broke.
- How do you expect to pay us

for our property then?
From construction funds

advanced to me
by the Union Pacific Railroad.

You were kicked off Union Pacific
for stealing.

Union Pacific, Crédit Mobilier,

different pockets
to the same pair of pants.

When the judge understood that,
I was released.

You're in Omaha now, New York.
Money won't buy you judges here.

Opportunity is a powerful elixir,
Mrs. Palmer.

Right.

So you're borrowing money
you don't have

from a company you don't work for
to buy property you can't afford

to build a city that doesn't exist.

Spearheading, as it were,
a new way of doing business in America.

If all difficulties were known

at the outset of a long journey,
Mr. McGinnes,

few of us would ever embark at all.

A whiskey for my young friend.

Have you got the money?

I'm very uneasy about this.

If Mr. Bohannon finds out...
You are doing nothing wrong.

You are managing railroad funds,
and you are managing them well.

Have you got something else for me?

This is the, telegraph routing code
for the Union Pacific.

You'll be able to eavesdrop
on all of Mr. Bohannon's business.

Excellent.

Will you be paying me today, Mr. Durant?

All in due time, Mr. McGinnes.

Don't look so glum.

My current situation
is but a temporary setback.

History always sides with a winner.

- Where are you off to so fast?
- Excuse me, I...

Urn...

Stop, no. Let me go.

- Give us a kiss first.
- What?

_.

Wait, wait, wait, wait.
Please, please.

Not like this.
Let's go to my room?

I got us a bottle we can share.

Touch me again,
it'll be your throat!

Bloody whore.

My grandpap,
a dough puncher from way back,

taught me surest way to a woman's heart
by way of her stomach.

By God, if that wasn't certain
with my Tess.

You married, Mr. Ferguson?

Some could call it that.

Kids?

Got me a new baby girl.

Nothing like a new baby
to make a man count his blessings

and keep them close.

I got five youngsters, all girls,
if you want to know.

The oldest one's 12 going on 40.

That little girl of mine,
she beautiful.

I look in her eyes,
and she melt my heart.

But her mama afraid this job
gonna get me killed.

She think that baby
ain't gonna have no daddy to bring her up.

How's the coffee?

It's better the second day.

It's the sock.

Need you boys to ride out
and tell them homesteaders

there's no way around the land.

This here's the writ of eminent domain.

Let them know the government
pays $1.50 an acre.

Railroad will throw in another dollar.

Let 'em know that's more than fair,
all right?

- Yes, sir.
- You do the talking.

Mormons ain't keen on negroes.

Finish your coffee,
Mr. Ferguson.

I got to visit the necessary.
Then we'll be on our way.

They said he was a hell-raiser,

but my pap was a lazy son of a bitch
by the time I knew him.

Fact, one time when I was...
Don't you ever stop talking?

No, sir, I do not.

Out here, a quiet man
is twice as likely as a noisy one

to have his beard clung to by a bear.

I intend to keep my scalp.

Maybe they're gone.
No, they ain't gone.

Horses still in the barn.

Keep your gun close.

You see our cinch getting frayed,
start shooting.

Hello!

Anybody home?!

Mr. Hatch?!

State your business!

I'm Dick Barlow, Chief of Police,
Union Pacific Railroad!

Think you know why we're here!

I already told the other one,
we ain't leaving!

You ain't got any choice!

That's what we come to tell you.

We ain't afraid to fight
for what's ours!

You best leave on out of here now!

Threatening us ain't gonna get us no...

Barlow!

What...

I need 75,000 ties delivered 25 miles
beyond the end of the rails

before the first of the month,
100 barrels of blasting powder.

- Make sure we got enough Wranglers...
- Eva!

When they get here...

from Denver.

' Eva!

What happened?

- The Mormons shot him.
- Shit.

Careful, careful.
I got his legs.

' Eva!

Eva, we need you!

Elam, the baby!

You're the closest thing
we got to a doctor.

Go get me some onion broth.

YOu!

Go to the hotel restaurant,
get me some onion broth now. Go!

- Was it the old man or the boy?
- I don't know for certain.

- Certain you don't know?
- Told you I don't know.

I know for certain there's a man
lying here with a bullet in him.

- I just told you I ain't seen him.
- Will you two stop it?

Shut that baby up.

Excuse me.

Here.

Prop him up. Get him up.

Drink the medicine.

Yeah, I can smell the onion broth
through the wound.

He's gut-shot, Elam.

He ain't gonna make it.

Take that damn baby outside.

No, wait.

Bring her here.

Bring her over here. Please.

Let me see her.

Please let me see her.

She's beautiful, Mr. Ferguson.

Just like you said.

You wanted it.

Not like this.

Well?

All right. Telegraph the fort.

Tell the major we need help
evicting them homesteaders.

You want a railroad story?

Follow me.

Mr. Hatch!

This is Cullen Bohannon
of the Union Pacific Railroad!

I have a writ of execution here
for the killing of my Chief of Police!

Come on out!

You don't, and these soldiers
will burn you out!

I won't be able to stop them!

You got one minute, Mr. Hatch!

United States Cavalry
was not built for waiting.

We didn't come here
to kill women and children.

A disorganized brain
is lacking in moral principles.

Are you aware of that, Bohannon?

Not something I ponder nights.

Moral principles are the first line
of defense against criminal behavior.

You learn something new every day.

Without moral principles,

these Mormons will inevitably
turn to violence

to solve their problems,
just like the heathens.

Am I right about that, chief?

What he talking about?

Y'all keep your barrels down.

You and your boys,
put your guns down!

I told you, stay off my property
or there'll be hell to pay!

And I told you
if I couldn't find a way around,

the U.S. Government
would rightfully claim its land!

You murdered my Chief of Police.

He was trespassing!
He was warned!

You have to stand accountable.

I am the priesthood holder of my family,
Mr. Bohannon.

Without me...
they will not survive.

You should've thought about that
before you pulled that trigger.

They won't survive.

I'll see to it they get to the Mormon
settlement at Fort Smith. How's that?

- He done it!
- Father?

Did you kill that man, son?

Tell me the truth now.

Yes, sir.

Mr. Ferguson,
this boy shoot Dick Barlow?

I ain't sure.

Good God, man, get on with it.

You'd have me hang him?

It's the law, Bohannon.

You said so yourself,
and you are obliged to uphold it.

We do not make exceptions
to the law out here.

You realize he'll hang.

He's just a boy.

- You're gonna tell me the truth.
- I told you the truth!

Son, you got a different story,
you best tell me right now.

He's just a boy.

Not today he ain't.

All right.

Father.

Come here.

- Father!
- Come on, boy.

- Come on.
- Easy.

Father!

Father!

Sorry, son.

"Life on the prairie
is not worth the powder it takes

to blow it all to hell."

So say the denizens
of Hell on Wheels,

the rollicking tent city

that moves with the transcontinental
railroad as it creeps across the country

at a pace of two miles per day.

It is no place for women or children,

as the men who labor here,

veterans of the recent conflict,
immigrants, and free negroes,

often take to drink
and un-Christian pursuits

when not swinging a hammer
or laying track.

Every man here carries a gun,

which can be had for as little as $3,

and a knife,
and goes to church on Sunday.

Here you can buy a meal for 35 cents,

a beer for less than a quarter,

a suit of clothes for $5
that includes a hat.

The belongings of the dead
are cheaper than that.

Any last words, son?

I came here to meet the man
who replaced Doc Durant

as Chief Engineer
of the Union Pacific Railroad.

I can tell you he is a man
for whom honor is sacred,

and virtue impermanent.

In the brave new wilderness
he calls home,

integrity is important
to Cullen Bohannon.

Whether a man of integrity is what's needed

to build the railroad,
we don't yet know.

The railroad has always been the business
of the unscrupulous and corrupt.

You owe me a life...

for the one you took from me today.

I suspect our new Chief Engineer
to be neither.

And for that, dear reader,
we might all count our blessings...

and say a prayer.

CNST, Montreal