(Woman hums mournfully)
(Waves crashing)
(Heavy breathing)
(Creaking)
(Clattering)
(Screams)
(Slaves shout)
(Hacking and screaming)
Por favore!
(Shouts of panic)
(Shouts in Spanish)
(Screams)
(Woman humming)
(Chatter)
(Converse in native language)
(Start to argue)
(Spanish) That one wants us to sail them back.
That one thinks he can sail all the way back without us.
(Both start to shout)
(Chants)
(Both shout angrily)
(Speaks Spanish)
Si.
(Spanish) East. To the sun!
I understand. You can trust me.
(Speaks native language)
(Spanish) To Africa!
(Slave speaks in native language)
(Spanish) Well, I have to tack, don't I? You'd rather I didn't?
You want to get there? I have to tack!
(Spanish) You're going to get us killed!
(Slave speaks forcefully in native language)
(Spanish) Yeah, yeah. Now go take a bath...
Este.
(Men sing)
(Women sing and clap)
(Hushed conversation)
(Men argue)
(Singing and clapping continues)
(Man shouts)
(Spanish) We have to signal them.
(Second man) When the ship gets close, he'll run and hide.
Then we both start yelling.
(First man) They'll search the ship.
Get ready.
Shh.
(Laughter and chattering)
(Shouts excitedly)
Dolly!
(Men) Dolly!
(Chanting)
(Man whistles)
(Whistling continues)
(Shouts)
Lay up, Mr Packwood!
Aye, aye, sir!
Straight ahead!
(Shouting In Spanish)
Fire over their heads!
(Choir sings haunting melody)
(Gasps)
(Bell tolls)
Open the gate!
Come on, come on, come on!
(Man coughs)
(Outside) Move along, now!
Move along!
- Forward! Move along! - Keep it going!
Get along! Get moving!
- Don't stop there! Keep moving! - Make way for the stinking heathens!
All right, move on.
Lock 'em up!
(Shouts angrily)
(Angry shouting)
Gates! Gates! Gates!
(Screaming)
Push 'em in!
(Screams)
(Wailing)
(Woman hums)
(Spanish) Your Royal Highness.
Something's happened.
(# Band plays "Hail To The Chief")
Mr President!
The ambassador to Spain, Señor Calderon.
What?
Señor Calderon.
Yes, all right. Not now.
- It is a matter of importance, sir. - God bless you all!
I'm trying to drink my brandy after a very long day.
I simply wasn't certain
whether this was something you wanted to take care of personally...
Leder, there are, what, four million Negroes in this country?
Why on Earth should I concern myself with these forty-four? Hmm?
Well, there are reasons.
I don't care how. You just take care of it.
The ship is Amistad.
It's too small to be a transatlantic slaver.
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.
(Church bell strikes)
They were first detained by officers of a brig off Long Island.
They were conveyed to New Haven - under what authority, I don't know -
and given over to the local constabulary.
About forty 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.
(Speaks Native language)
(Native language) Chief! Chief!
He's not a chief!
Brother! Brother!
He's not your brother.
- What is he then? - He's a white man.
Hear ye! In the matter of the court of the United States of America
in the year of our Lord, 1839, the honourable Andrew T Judson presiding.
(Prisoners mutter)
If it please, Your Honour.
The bench recognises District Attorney Holabird.
I would like to present the court, Your Honour,
with the charges of piracy and murder...
I have a petition for a writ of habeas corpus.
I was speaking.
Mr Holabird, your charges, whatever they might be, will be rendered moot.
That petition, Mr Tappan - if that's what it is - is moot,
until an actual writ by some higher court, by some miracle, is granted.
- Mr Holabird is correct. - And if you would, sir,
please kindly refrain from impersonating a lawyer,
which you patently are not.
- As I was saying, Your Honour... - Your Honour.
Mr Secretary.
Your Honour, I am here on behalf of the President of the United States,
representing the claims of Queen Isabella of Spain,
as concerns our mutual treaty on the high seas of 1795.
- You have my attention. - Thank you.
These slaves, Your Honour, are the property of Spain,
and under Article 9 of said treaty are to be returned post-haste.
Said treaty taking precedence over all other claims...
Them slaves belong to me and my mate, Your Majesty.
- Your Honour, I... - 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 Honour...
You wish to make this claim above that of the Queen of Spain?
Where was she, pray,
when we was fightin' the winds, Your Excellen... uh, Honour.
Her Majesty, the Queen of Spain, was busy ruling a country.
Your Honour, these officers claims are just...
Your Honour!
Here are the true owners of these slaves.
(Crowd erupts and judge bangs gavel)
- Order! - 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...
- (Uproar) ...these goods!
(Gavel banging)
And that ship out there to my clients,
- Jose Ruiz... - Yo soy Ruiz.
"Yoso" Ruiz, and... Pedro Montes? Pedro Montes.
Ah, Mr Tappan. How do you do, sir?
My name is Roger S Baldwin, attorney-at-law.
Real estate?
Real estate, inventories and other assets.
- Can I help you with something? - What is it that you do?
Well, I own various business... and banks.
As a matter of fact, you probably could help me, Mr Tappan. (Chuckles)
But that's not why I'm here. I'd like to help you.
- Me? - Yes. I deal with property.
Sometimes I get people's property back,
other times I get it taken away, as in this case.
Every one of the claims speaks to the issue of ownership.
- Thank you, Mr... Mr Baldwin. - Baldwin, Roger S, attorney-at-law.
(Chuckles) 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...
Well, I wouldn't have bothered coming down here.
(Tappan laughs)
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!
(Man coughs)
Perhaps Mr Adams is meditating on his response.
(Laughter)
Had I thought your remarks worthy of riposte, Representative Pinckney,
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, sir. He requests an audience.
Give me your hand.
Oh, he requests, does he?
Yeah. I don't know anyone called Tappan.
- Sir, you do. You've met him often. - Where?
- Where is he? - He's right over there, sir.
Oh.
- What is that? - (Coin clinking)
- Where? - Right there, sir.
Lewis! Good to see you again!
- And you, sir. - (Laughs)
- This is Theodore Joadson. - How do you do, sir?
- An honour to meet you, sir. - Yeah.
- Sir? Is there somewhere? - Let's stroll in the garden...
- Yes. - What?
Let go of my arm. Over here.
(Tappan) This case has great significance.
Our secretary of state is paying it his attention.
(Adams) You don't have to shout!
(Tappan) He supports the Queen's claim that she owns the Africans.
- Two sailors are making claims. - (Adams) What season is it?
- Pardon? - I said, what season is it?
I don't understand what you mean.
There are two ways of knowing without consulting a calendar.
The leaves on the maple trees have all gone,
and the fact that the President is not at home on Pennsylvania Avenue.
Tell me, sir...
Do you really think Van Buren cares about the whims
of an 11-year-old girl who wears a tiara?
I assure you, only one thing occupies his thoughts this time of the year,
being all things to all people, which means nothing to no one.
In other words, gettin' himself re-elected.
Give me a hand.
Huh?
- 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 to the abolitionist cause. I won't help you.
(Joadson) 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.
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.
(Sniffs)
You're quite the scholar, Mr Joadson, aren't ya? Quite the historian.
Let me tell you 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.
(Sniffs)
- We know we aimed high asking you... - Well, aim lower!
Find yourselves someone whose inspiration blossoms
the more you lose.
(Joadson) If the court awards them to Spain,
they'll be taken to Cuba and executed.
If the two lieutenants prevail, they'll likely to sell them to Spain,
and they'll be executed.
If Montes and Ruiz are successful...
I'm a little confused. What are they worth to you?
We're discussing the case, not its expense.
Of course. Well, the case is much simpler than you think, Mr Tappan.
It's like anything - 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.
We're not certain, but we very much doubt it.
Let's say they are. Then they are possessions,
and no more deserving of a criminal trial than a bookcase.
On the other hand, let's say they aren't slaves,
in which case they were illegally acquired.
Forget mutiny, forget piracy, forget murder.
Those are 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 legal minutia.
Mr Tappan, I'm talking about the heart of the matter.
As am I.
It is our destiny as abolitionists and 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.
- You 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 question of worth.
In order to do a better job than the Son of God's attorney,
I'll require two and a half dollars a day.
(Mende) Who are they, do you think?
Looks like they're going to be sick.
(All) # Amazing grace
# How sweet the sound... #
(Mende) They're entertainers!
- # That saved a wretch like me... # - But why do they look so miserable?
# I once was lost
# But now am found... #
(Mende) You don't belong here.
Your table doesn't belong here.
(Mende) This is Temne land.
How do you do, sir? How do you do?
(Mende) You want to sit? Sit 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.
(Arguing)
There?
(Speaks menacingly in Mende)
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.
(Mende) What do you want?
Keep talking. Get them to talk.
Have you seen this before?
(Mende) I could kill you with my bare hands before you raise that sword.
- This belongs to you? - (Makes slashing sounds)
(Gibbs makes slashing sound)
No.
Umm...
I need to know where you're from.
(Gibbs) Uh... (Speaks African dialect)
(Mende) What did he say?
(Mende) I didn't understand a word. It's gibberish.
He said, I think, "Show me the map."
(Mende) Do you think he's here to help us?
I don't know.
He reminds me of that Fula of Baoma.
The one who hires himself out to scrape elephant dung from the crops.
A dung-scraper might be just the kind of man we need right now.
(Baldwin) Here, Africa... Is this where you're from?
A-fri-ca.
(Mende) What does he want?
- (Mende) He's an idiot. - Were you born in the West Indies?
(Spanish) Were you born in the West Indies?
(Mende) All three of them are idiots.
What did he say?
Oh, he said, er... They have to go away.
- (Shouting) - Emancipation! It's God's way!
You cannot own another human being!
- Killers of white men! - Slavery is tyranny!
(Mende) It's those miserable-looking people again.
God's blessing on you this morning.
(Mende) I'm not afraid of you or your medicine!
Yes. You place your hand on this book and I'll pray for you.
(Woman in crowd) They're human beings, not animals!
(Man) Slavery will kill this country!
(Slaves chatter)
(Holabird)... in the quietude of the night
after the Spaniards attended their vespers and were in virtuous sleep,
the savages broke loose their collars
and stole onto the deck like creatures of prey.
They fell upon the unsuspecting crew with these sabres and cane knives...
- (Gasps from gallery) - I cannot overstate...
(Mende) Have you figured out who he is?
(Mende) An advisor of some kind. Perhaps theirs.
...they mutilated at least one...
- (Mende) What about him? - The simple cook, a Creole...
- Their own kind. - (Mende) Theirs maybe.
But for Señors Ruiz and Montes,
who steered the Amistad here under constant threat of like fate,
we might never have heard of this massacre, this bloodbath.
But for their bravery, these villains would have escaped justice.
But they've not. They've not.
(Mende) And Dung-Scraper?
I have a horrible feeling he talks for us.
(Whispering)
Do you know the difference between a cow and a cabbage?
A brick and a bear?
Or how about... a polecat and a president?
The Spanish government hopes you don't have much more sense than that.
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.
(Prisoners protest)
Open your mouth.
He doesn't understand. He doesn't speak English.
Abra su boca.
(Replies in Mende)
Doesn't he understand? I thought he was born on a Cuban plantation?
Perhaps he simply doesn't like you.
He wouldn't be the first, Mr Holabird.
(Laughs) Yes.
What, did he learn this on some Cuban plantation, this decorative effect?
(Mutters)
Stand up. Stand up!
Hey. Levantate.
Levantate.
- (Protests) - Levantate.
(Sighs)
- Stand up. - (All) Ahh!
Thank you.
Your Honour, I speak more Spanish, and I was born in Philadelphia.
On Spanish plantations, slaves choose to live
surrounded by their own ways and simple languages.
Pray tell, what need they know of Spanish? "Fetch? Carry? Stop?"
Gestures suffice for slaves, as for any other beast of burden.
Your Honour...
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 a good deal of - I'll be kind -
circumstantial evidence.
Have you, in addition, anything, in the order of actual documentation,
that might refute this one,
and so more compellingly support your claims?
I'm sure I could manufacture some as easily as they have, Your Honour.
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 that you might have forgotten
- this is just a case like any other. - You needn't worry about that.
That's good.
(Prisoner speaks menacingly)
Hello, Cinque. My name is Roger Baldwin. I'll be your attorney.
Yes. (Clears throat) Thank you.
(Clears throat)
All right.
I need to prove where you're from.
(Cinque, in Mende) You want to show them where we're from.
How are you supposed to tell me?
(Mende) How can I explain to you where we're from?
(Both talk at once)
(Baldwin) You go. (Cinque) I'm sorry, you talk first.
Here. This is where I'm from.
Here. This.
All of this. All of this is...
- is... my home. - (Mende) That's here.
Here.
Cuba. Cuba's an island.
The Amistad. This is where... 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.
(Cinque, in Mende) This... is how far I've come.
(Arguing in Spanish)
(Man) Secure the ballast, transport!
Put your backs into it, boys.
This is a court order granting us permission to search this vessel.
- What did they want? - To come aboard.
I informed them they needed to obtain one of these... an authentic one.
Aren't you coming?
(Arguing continues)
(Man, distant) Heave-ho!
(Gasping) My light! Light?
Light the lamp, Mr Baldwin.
I'm trying.
(Grunts)
Mr Joadson!
Here.
Are you all right?
(Panting) Yes.
(Grunts)
These papers - and I shall ask you to examine them -
are portions of a ship's manifest I retrieved from the Amistad yesterday.
At first glance, they may appear to bolster the prosecution's case.
You see, they list cargo.
Cargo bearing the Spanish names 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.
(Disgruntled murmuring)
I can bring you as many witnesses as you wish, Mr Holabird...
Tecora!
Their clients trade off 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 re-christened "Freetown".
How, then, can the Portuguese Tecora...
engage in the slave trades in these waters?
I'll tell you how. In a word...
Illegally.
Whatever these men say clearly matters not
because this proves them liars.
My clients' journey did not begin in Havana,
as they keep claiming more and more emphatically.
My clients' journey...
began much, much further away.
I underestimated you, sir! (Laughs)
I really did!
- I should take that as a compliment. - Oh, you should indeed, sir.
I can't imagine there's no not reaching a favourable conclusion...
Hey! Hey!
A-Am I bleeding?
There's nothing there.
What did I do to deserve that?
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 becomes a weight on our two countries."
Uh, "great countries."
"Our great countries.
"After all, the business of great countries is to do business."
Excelente, Su Alteza.
"Slavery is our pillar of commerce in the New World.
"Without it, our goodwill and excellent trade relations sh..."
- Uh, "should be imperilled." - "Should be imperilled".
"Without it, we might have been denied the glory
"of aiding you in your 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. - You need to concern yourself
with what this matter means here, not an ocean away.
Someone should tell me what it means!
Leder, you yourself said it was meaningless.
Well, not any more.
(Sighs)
- 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 than the North.
If the Africans are executed,
the abolitionists will make good use of it.
And yes, they will make some converts.
Lf, on the other hand, they are freed,
Calhoun says the Southern states will so ally themselves against you
that you can forget about re-election.
- (Tuts) Over this? - It's worse than that.
Worse? What could be worse than that?
Calhoun believes, and I am not sure I can 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.
The jury appears likely to free them, but juries can be dismissed.
They can?
But I believe we must go further and remove the judge.
(Van Buren) We can do that?
(Leder) He could be prevailed upon to recuse himself for various reasons.
With that in mind,
I've taken the liberty of exploring possible replacements.
I've found one I strongly believe to be better.
He's young, which means he has a career before him rather than behind,
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.
(Man) Mr President, Judge Coglin.
(Van Buren) 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, uh, Amistad.
Real papers.
(Chuckles) Real papers. Yes, sir.
(Tuts) Yes. Bad luck, this last unfolding chapter.
What to do now, eh?
Which is why I came here and imposed on you, sir.
No imposition... really.
(Sighs) Yeah.
How did that, uh...
How did that young lawyer take the news?
Oh, in stride, sir. In stride.
The thing is, sir, he did everything right.
- He proved the case. - Did he?
Oh, yes, sir. Surprisingly, he did.
Hmm. Good.
Well, he'll just have to do it again, then.
Like most things, it should be easier second time around.
Well, I'm afraid it doesn't matter what he does now, sir.
Rumour has it our next judge was hand-picked by Van Buren himself.
No!
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?
Well, it isn't me. And thank God for that.
(Rings bell)
- But if it was, sir, - Huh?
What would you do?
Well, when I was an attorney,
a long time ago, young man,
I, er... I realised 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, um...
from West Africa.
No. What is their story?
Mr Joadson, you're from where originally?
Why, Georgia, sir.
- Georgia. - Yes, sir.
Does that 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,
overcoming great hardships along the way, I should imagine.
That's your story, isn't it?
(Laughs)
You and this young so-called lawyer have proven you know what they are.
They're Africans. Congratulations.
What you don't know, and haven't bothered in the least to discover,
is who they are.
Right?
Seven. (Translates into Mende)
Eight. (Continues translating)
Number nine...
and ten.
Now, how about you, Mr Baldwin?
Would you like to count from one to ten?
One to ten in Mende.
- One. - Ta.
- Two. - Fele.
- Three. - Sawa.
- Four. - Nanee.
Right. Five.
Lorlu.
(Joadson speaks in Mende)
(Laughs)
(Counts in Mende)
(Trader) Fresh fruit! Straight from the Caribbean!
(Attempts to speak Mende)
(Counts in Mende)
(Baldwin) Sawa, nanee, lorlu... (Soldiers laugh)
(Continues to count in Mende)
(Mournful groaning)
(Speaks Mende)
(Chanting)
- What's happened here? - One of them died last night.
We tried to take the body away to bury it.
What do they want? They want to live with it?
(Chanting intensifies)
They want to bury him.
They have to bury him according to their Poro beliefs.
Otherwise, his soul will haunt them.
# The house of Thine abode
# With His own precious son... #
(Singing and chanting)
# The house of Thine abode
# The church of blessed redeemers... #
If I were you, if I ran this place,
I'd set protocol aside just this once and let them bury him.
# I love Thy kingdom, Lord... #
I was thinking the same thing.
(Prisoners shout)
(Mende) 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.
(Baldwin) A problem has arisen.
(Translates into Mende)
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.
(Translates)
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.
(Translates)
I am not a great orator or advisor, Cinque.
I'm not a big man in my profession.
I don't know if 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.
(Speaks Mende)
(Covey) 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.
- (Whispers reply) - (Covey) I am not.
What's this I hear about a lion?
(Covey translates)
They say you alone - alone, Cinque -
slew the most terrifying beast anyone has ever seen.
Is it not true?
(Speaks Mende)
(Covey) 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.
(Chuckles) A rock.
A rock.
(Whispers in Mende)
(Covey) 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 here trying to explain these things.
He'd just be dead.
Understand?
I'm not a big man.
Just a lucky one.
I might agree with you, Cinque, except you're forgetting something.
(Covey translates)
The other lion.
The Amistad, Cinque. The insurrection.
That too was an accident? I hardly think so.
(Translates)
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.
(Covey translates)
'My wife gave it to me.'
'To keep me safe.'
Cinque...
I need you to tell me how you got here.
(Covey translates)
(Chattering)
(Cinque shouts)
I'll hit you in the head again if you talk.
I'll share the profit of my harvest. I'll...
(Shouting in Spanish)
(Speaking Spanish)
(Shouting in Spanish)
(Screaming and yelling)
(Sobbing)
(Thunder)
(Baby cries)
(Anguished cries)
(Sailors chatter)
(Whip cracking)
(Whip cracks)
(Shouting)
(Spanish) This one's sick, don't give him any!
(Spanish) Her!
Not her!
Her!
Abrala.
(Screaming)
(Woman Screams)
(Shouting in Spanish)
(Speaking Spanish)
(Chattering in Spanish)
(Speaks Spanish)
Negro Bernardo.
Bernardo.
Abajo! Todos abajo!
(Speaks Mende)
(Covey) I wanted to kill them too.
(Cinque, in Mende)
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.
Some tribes in Africa, for hundreds of years - thousands, perhaps -
have owned slaves.
Translate.
(Covey translates)
Yes.
Under what circumstances might one become a slave among the Mende,
of which you claim to belong?
Translate.
(Covey translates)
Wars, debts.
Oh, I see. And how many men are indebted to you?
(Covey) I don't think you do see.
Mr Holabird is trying to intimidate my colleague.
The Mende word for "slave" is closer 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?
He's questioning the translator!
The translator is answering for the witness.
- The witness isn't getting a chance! - Mr Baldwin!
Fine, Mr Baldwin! Slavery, indentured servitude.
Whatever they want to call it, the concept is the same.
Now, he is familiar with the concept.
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?
(Covey translates)
Of course they don't. What would be the point of that?
Killing your own slaves is like burning down your own hut, isn't it?
How do you explain that paradox?
(Translates)
I don't understand what you mean.
Sure you do. As does everyone here.
The behaviour you attribute to your tormentors - your victims -
and therefore every other aspect of your testimony,
makes no sense.
- Not even to you. - (Covey translates)
But thank you. Like all good works of fiction, it was entertaining.
Nothing more.
(Speaks Mende, angrily)
(Baldwin) Captain Fitzgerald,
please explain your 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 men from the British protectorate of Sierra Leone
and their illegal transportation is not unheard of, is it?
Not even unusual, regrettably.
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? Rumour?
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 many 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,
going to all that trouble rounding men up only to throw them overboard.
No, it's very lucrative.
If only we could corroborate Cinque's story somehow with...
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.
(Baldwin) What does that mean?
If you look at it in conjunction with Cinque's testimony,
I would say that it means this:
The crew greatly underestimated
the amount of provisions required for their journey,
and solved the problem by throwing 50 people overboard.
I'm looking at the 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?
(Cinque) Give us... us... free.
Give... us...
free.
Give us, us free.
Give... us... free.
Your Honour, please instruct the defendant
not to disrupt proceedings with such outbursts.
Give us, us free!
If we are to have any semblance of order in court...
Give us, us free! Give us, us free!
He cannot keep crying out "Give us free"...
Give us, us free!
...while I am questioning this witness!
GIVE US, US FREE!
(Mende) 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...
(Prays in Latin)
(Mende) They took him into a cave. They wrapped him in a cloth, like us.
They thought he was dead, but he appeared before his people again
and spoke to them.
Then, finally... he rose into the sky.
(Judge continues Latin prayer)
This is where the soul goes when you die.
This is where we're going when they kill us.
It doesn't look so bad.
(Mende) Baukei... Hold your head up.
(Bailiff) All rise.
(Door opens)
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?
Since the answer to that question
shall govern every determination of this court, I ask it again.
Were they born in Africa?
I believe they were.
(Murmuring)
As such, Her Catholic Majesty's claims of ownership have no merit.
(Murmuring)
Neither do those for salvage made by Lieutenants Mead and Gedney.
I hereby order the arrest of Señors Ruiz and Montes...
(Cheering and shouting)
...by federal mar...
by federal marshals on the charge of slave-trading!
(Cheering and applause)
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!
(Sobbing and chanting)
(All chant)
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,
its the independence of our courts that keeps us free.
(Forsyth) John... I'm glad you came.
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, sir. - Oh, thank you! Please.
I'd like you to meet Señor Calderon, ambassador from Spain.
Buenas noches, Señor Ambassador.
- 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.
(Exhales) 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 neighbours.
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.
(Laughter)
Ask yourself, Señor Calderon,
what court wants to be responsible
for the spark that ignites a 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 rag-tag group of Africans
raised swords against their enemy,
but rather... must we?
Whoa!
(Baldwin) Come along, Mr Joadson.
This news...
Well, of course, it's bad news, but...
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.
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 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.
(Slams door)
(Shouting and chanting)
Our president, our big, big man,
has appealed the decision to our Supreme Court.
(Covey translates)
What does that mean?
We have to try the case again.
(Translates)
Now, l-I know it's hard to understand, Cinque.
I don't understand, for that matter.
(Replies in Mende)
(Covey) You said there would be a judgment and we would go free.
No, no. What I said is that we won it at the state level.
(All shout at once)
I said if we won it at the state level, we then go on.
(Cinque shouts) (Covey) That's what you said!
- That's what you said! - All right! Yes, I said it!
I said it, but I shouldn't have. What I should have said...
- I can't translate that. - You can't translate what?
- I can't translate "should". - There's no Mende word for "should"?
No. Either you do something, or you don't do it.
What I meant to say, what I MEANT...
- Not in the way you mean it. - (Groans)
- (Cinque shouts) - Try and understand me.
"Meant" is the same as "should". You're misunderstanding the language.
Cinque! Listen to me. Understand what I'm saying.
What I said to you before the judgment
is almost how it works here.
- Almost! - (Covey translates)
(Covey) Almost?
Yes, Cinque. But not always.
(Covey translates)
Yes. And that's what's happened here.
(Mende) What kind of place is this?
Where you almost mean what you say? Where laws almost work?
(Cinque) How can you live like that?
(Shouts angrily)
(Baldwin) "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.
"Despite this,
"and despite the unlikelihood of President Van Buren's re-election,
"he has appealed our most recent favourable 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 said, appealing to Claudius in defence of the Republic,
"that 'the result of this 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, named Cinque,
"and you, sir.
"Sincerely, Roger S Baldwin, attorney-at-law."
Mr Tippings, excuse me a moment, please.
- Any word from? - What did Cinque say?
He won't talk to you.
He won't talk to me?
No.
(Baldwin) How's your English coming?
No better than my Mende, I suppose.
Cinque, I know this isn't something you necessarily want to think about,
but has it occurred to you that I'm all you've got?
Because, since my practice has now completely deteriorated,
you're all I've got.
See, this is me. You see?
You see? You see how this works?
A-a-and this, this here, Cinque, is for me. Hmm?
More death threats.
Some have been signed. By my own clients, no less.
I should say, 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? - (Guard) Yes, Mr President.
Please unlock this door.
Adams has flirted with abolitionists, but has yet to take one home.
- How old is he? - Too old to take anyone home!
He sleeps through three quarters of the sessions on the Hill.
Let's see. President, slumbering congressman,
jailhouse lawyer - one waits with great anticipation for what's next!
- 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 remembered for is his middle name!
I wonder, is there anything as pathetic as an ex-president?
I was talking about John...
(Door closes)
(Hushed conversation in Mende)
- Sir. - Yes?
Cinque has asked me t-t-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 recognises 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 property of Ruiz and Montes,
then how does the treaty apply, as 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 Britain have any treaties with West Africa which may override
- those between Spain and America? - No.
Does Britain have any treaties with America
- which might override those... - No.
Does America have treaties with West Africa?
No!
- Does Spain? - 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... - 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.
(Chuckles) And, uh, this spear lily,
from the south of France.
This is my rose, a blush noisette.
This came all the way from, uh, Washington, DC,
but don't tell anyone.
Hmm...
Go on, go on.
(Speaks Mende)
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?
(Covey translates)
It is the place where they finally kill us.
(Chuckles) No. Well, yes, that may be true too.
(Laughs) That's not what I meant.
No, there is another reason and a more important reason.
Although I'll admit that, uh, perhaps more so to us than you.
All right, don't...
(Coughs) Cinque...
Do you know who I am? Has anyone told you about me?
(Translates)
- What have they told you? - (Translates)
That you are a chief.
I was a chief, yes.
A chief cannot become anything less than a chief, even in death.
Oh, 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... 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.
Huh? And all we have on our side
is a rock.
Of course, you didn't ask to be at the centre
of this historic conflagration any more than I did,
but we find ourselves here, nonetheless,
by some mysterious mix of circumstances
and the whole world watching.
So, uh, what are we to do? Huh?
(Mende) Is he going to help? He has far many more questions than answers.
- What did he just say? - L-I... 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.
- (Speaks Mende) - We won't be going in there alone.
Alone? Indeed not. We have right at our side.
We have righteousness at our side.
We have Mr Baldwin over there.
(Covey) 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.
Your Honours...
(Clears throat) 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?
Do we fear the lower courts, which somehow missed the truth?
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.
This is no mere property case, gentlemen.
This is the most important case ever to come before this court.
Because what it in fact concerns
is the very nature of man.
Uh, these are, um...
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? Huh?
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.
(Chuckles) 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, uh, 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 civilised society
"in which one segment did not thrive upon the labour 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 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 -
I know this is a controversial idea -
is freedom.
Is freedom.
The proof is the length to which man 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.
If he were white, he wouldn't be in this court,
fighting for his life.
If he were white and his enslavers British,
he'd be weighed down by the medals and honours 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.
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.
He explained 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.
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 feared an... an appeal to you might be taken for weakness.
But we have 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.
(Snoring)
In the case of the United States of America
versus 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.
Thank you.
Well...
(Speaks Mende)
- (Covey) What did you say to them? - Huh?
(Covey) What words did you use to persuade them?
- Yours. - (Covey translates)
(Speaks Mende)
To keep you safe.
Thank you... Baldwin.
(Speaks Mende)
(Officer) Fire!
(Shouting)
All clear, sir.
- Fire. - Fire!
Fire.
(Fitzgerald) Take a letter, Ensign.
"To His Honour, 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."
Que bonita!