I can't sleep.
I hope you don't mind us laying out tonight here, sir.
Whatever takes your fancy, my young friend.
Is it your shoulder that's keeping you up?
No, I don't never sleep too much.
I have to sleep with one eye open. I only got one eye, right?
How old are you, Amsterdam?
I'm not too sure.
I never did figure it.
I'm 47.
Forty-seven years old.
You know how I stayed alive this long? All these years?
Fear.
The spectacle of fearsome acts.
Somebody steals from me, I cut off his hands.
He offends me, I cut out his tongue.
He rises against me, I cut off his head, stick it on a pike...
...and raise it high up so all in the streets can see.
That's what preserves the order of things.
Fear.
That one tonight...
...who was he?
A nobody.
A coward.
What an ignominious end that would have been.
I killed the last honorable man 15 years ago. Since then, it's...
You've seen his portrait downstairs?
Is your mouth glued up with cunny juice? I asked you a question!
I said, I seen it, sir.
Oh, you got a murderous rage in you, and I like it.
It's life boiling up inside of you. It's good.
The Priest and me, we lived by the same principles.
It was only faith divided us.
He give me this, you know.
That was the finest beating I ever took.
My face was pulp...
...my guts was pierced and my ribs was all mashed up.
And when he came to finish me...
...I couldn't look him in the eye.
He spared me because he wanted me to live in shame.
This was a great man.
A great man.
So I cut out the eye that looked away.
Sent it to him, wrapped in blue paper.
I would have cut them both out if I could have fought him blind.
Then I rose back up again with a full heart...
...and buried him in his own blood.
Well done.
He was the only man I ever killed worth remembering.
I never had a son.
Civilization is crumbling.
God bless you.
If you got anything to say...
...now is the time to say it.
Who is he to you, Jenny?
I was 12 years old.
My mother was dead. I was living in a doorway.
He took me in, took care of me...
...in his own way.
After they cut out the baby...
Well, he doesn't fancy girls that scarred up.
You should know in your own mind...
...that he never laid a hand on me until I asked him to.
Who are you?
Gentlemen. Fine gentlemen, you are most welcome...
...to this palace of wonder and enchantment...
...where visions to rival the finest imaginings of Scheherezade...
...and her tales from the perfumed nights of Arabia...
...will greet your famished eyes.
What am I bid for this flaxen-haired Teutonic beauty?
Feast your eyes on the magnificent plumage of these exotic creatures.
Gentlemen, you've seen our caged birds.
Well, how'd you like to make them sing?
Let me see the color of your money, and they could be singing for you.
May God put the steel of the Holy Spirit in my spine...
...and the love of the Blessed Virgin in my heart.
Amen.
Easy now.
What did you say?
He's not who he says he is.
He's not who he says he is?
What am I bid? What am I bid? What am I bid?
Count your blessings he considers you a friend.
The only thing he considers, every day and every night, is how best to kill you.
You got a loose tongue in your head. You want me to take it out for you?
I'll bury it right up your fundament where it belongs.
I can read right through you. You're empty...
His name is Vallon!
Don't do it, Bill. His name's Vallon.
They're curious people, these Celestials.
Don't trust this guy.
- Know why he wears short sleeves? - Why?
So everyone can see he's got nothing stashed.
Jesus, let's hope that never becomes the fashion.
Johnny.
Get up.
Ladies and gentlemen, if I may have your kind attention.
As some of you have surely noticed...
...our friend and benefactor Mr. William Cutting...
...is tonight wearing a waistcoat of certain distinction.
Might we...
Might we tonight appeal to him to favor us...
...with another exciting exhibition of skill...
...courage, daring and drama!
- The Sword of Damascus! - The Tomahawk!
Bill's going up.
Show us your knives.
Strut your stuff, Billy boy.
Sword of Damascus!
- The Spider's Kiss! - The River of Blood!
- The Morning Glory! - The Wheel of Death!
- William Tell! - The Butterfly!
- The Tomahawk! - The Spider's Kiss!
The Butcher's Apprentice!
The Butcher's Apprentice.
- Command performance. - Command performance.
- Where have you been?
A command performance indeed!
- Get out of here. - Don't do it.
And for this I must beg the indulgence of my former assistant...
...in matters of impalement.
The Butcher's original apprentice.
What do you say, Jen? One more time for the sweet souvenir?
Come on.
Don't you do it.
Good girl, Jenny.
- Don't be afraid. - What a woman.
Good evening, Bill.
She'll be all right.
- Remember this? - Of course.
You may feel more comfortable without that garment, Miss Everdeane.
You'll have to filch me a new one, Bill.
Anything in your pockets tonight?
Oh, I ain't started working yet.
What about that locket that I gave you?
Apologies, my dear. Pick it up.
Whoopsie-daisy!
Now it's good and broke.
I can't seem to get anything right tonight.
You got the sand to give them a grand finale?
Maybe when you're aiming a little straighter.
Still got some blood in you, Jen? Enough of this heathen music!
Get rid of these goddamn monkeys. Strike up, boys!
Ready? This is a night for Americans!
- Jenny! - Get your hands off me.
- Go away. - Get your hands off me!
Move.
Amsterdam!
Hats off!
We hold in our hearts the memory of our fallen brothers...
...whose blood stains the very streets we walk today.
Also on this night, we pay tribute to the leader of our enemies...
...an honorable man who crossed over bravely...
...fighting for what he believed in.
To defeat my enemy, I extinguish his life...
...and consume him as I consume these flames.
In honor of Priest Vallon.
That's a wound.
God!
I want you all to meet the son of Priest Vallon.
I took him under my wing...
...and see how I'm repaid?
- You bastard! - Saves my life one day...
...so he can kill me the next like a sneak-thief...
...instead of fighting like a man.
A base defiler, unworthy of a noble name.
God! Jesus!
All right, that'll do, McGloin. Splay him out.
This show ain't for blackies. You! You get to watch.
Don't you hear, nigger?
This is fresh meat. You know what I mean?
We need to tenderize this meat a little bit.
All right, let's kiss good night to that pretty young face of yours.
No!
What'll it be, then? Rib or chop? Loin or shank?
- The liver! - The spleen!
- The tongue! - Kidneys!
- The lungs! - The liver!
- The tongue! - The kidneys!
- The stomach! - The heart! The heart!
The heart? This boy has no heart.
- Then kill him! - Kill him!
He ain't earned a death. He ain't earned a death at my hands.
No. He'll walk amongst you marked with shame...
...a freak worthy of Barnum's Muzeum of Wonders.
Goïs only man spared by the Butcher.
No, Bill!
No! No!
No! No! No!
Here. Here!
This way. Come on. Come on!
I wanna show you something.
My mother's bones share this grave.
I've saved 10 cents out of every dollar I've ever earned since I was 13.
That's $ 215.
That's $215 for bludgeting and the rest.
This is what I wanted to show you.
This is where we're gonna go as soon as you get well.
San francisco, California.
You can have anything you want out there.
These men are pulling gold right out of the river with their own hands.
We're here, and we need to get there.
We start here, go down around here...
...to San francisco.
Shortest way to go.
Would you go with me?
No need to fire that, miss. Or even aim it.
An audience with your mangled friend is all I want.
I got 44 notches in my club.
Do you know what they're for?
To remind me of what I owe God when I die.
My father was killed in battle too.
In Ireland, in the streets...
...fighting those who would take as their privilege...
...what could only be got and held by the decimation of a race.
That war is 1000 years old or more.
We never expected it to follow us here.
It didn't.
It was waiting for us when we landed.
Your father tried to carve out a corner in this country for his tribe.
That was him. That was his Dead Rabbits.
I often wondered, if he'd lived a bit longer...
...would he have wanted a bit more?
Why'd you rifle through his pockets then?
For safekeeping.
I thought maybe you could do with it.
The blood stays on the blade.
That's a sorry-looking pelt.
And it's been so nice and quiet for the last three months.
Tell me, this charge, does it sit uneasy with you?
No, it's...
...not uneasy, Bill.
No, I wouldn't say that.
But my allegiance is to the law.
I'm paid to uphold the law.
What in heaven's name are you talking about?
You may have misgivings, but don't go believing that.
That way lies damnation.
I'm in no danger of damnation, Bill.
Here's the thing.
I don't give a tuppenny fuck about your moral conundrum...
...you meatheaded shit-sack.
That's more or less the thing.
And I want you to go out there... You, nobody else.
None of your little minions. I want you to go out there...
...and I want you...
...to punish the person...
...who's responsible...
...for murdering this poor little rabbit.
Is that understood?
Right.
Help yourself to some decent meat on the way out.
Damn it.
Is that you, boy?
I didn't mean nothing by that shot, you know.
You scared me is all.
Sure you know I'd never do you harm.
Come out now, lad.
Remember your father and me.
Are you too young to remember your old Uncle Jack?
Oh, the times we had.
You know I won't hurt you.
Is he dead?
I'm gonna get Andrew. Andrew, come see.
Andrew, come see, quick! Everybody, quick!
This is bad for everybody. What's next? Dead politicians?
I could spare half a dozen of you easier than I can spare him.
Still, I think it shows dash.
Give the boy some time. We'll settle with a good dustup.
There's more of us coming off these ships every day.
I heard 15,000 Irish a week.
And we're afraid of the Natives.
Get all of us together, we ain't got a gang. We got an army.
And all you neeïs a spark, right? Just one spark.
Something to wake us all up.
It was me played you false.
- I'd take it back if I could. - Take it back?
Johnny, I gotta kill you.
Get out of the Points and don't come back.
Where you going, boyo?
Come along.
Come on.
Tell us, John, what's the trouble?
No trouble, Bill.
Still hiding out with your friends?
No, I'm... I'm not with them, Bill.
I'm with you. I'm with the Natives.
You always was a Native as far as I'm interested, John...
...till you became a stag.
You tell me you're a Native. Do you want to know what a Native is?
A Native is a man...
...what's willing to give his life for his country...
...like my father done.
Are you willing to do that, my young friend?
John. Johnny!
Johnny?
John...
It hurts too much.
Just kill me.
Please, please.
Please.
I'm sorry, Johnny.
Holy Mary, mother of God, pray for us sinners...
...now and at the hour of our death. Amen.
Rest in peace, Ma.
What're you doing here, boyo?
What's a nigger doing in this church?
What's a Dead Rabbit doing with the Natives?
There's no niggers in the Natives. Natives and Rabbits is one thing.
A nigger in the church is something else!
You run with the Natives, pray with them!
You're gonna wind up on a stake like your man did!
McGloin.
Father! Jesus, did you know there's a nigger in your church?
Jesus.
The earth turns...
...but we don 't feel it move.
Then one night you look up.
One spark, and the sky is on fire.
It's a touching spectacle.
We'll come back when you're ready for us.
The past is the torch that lights our way.
Where our fathers have shown us the path, we shall follow.
Our faith is the weapon most feared by our enemies.
For thereby shall we lift our people up against those who would destroy us.
Our name is called the Dead Rabbits to remind all of our suffering...
...and as a call to those who suffer still to join our ranks...
...however so far they may have strayed from our common home across the sea.
For with great numbers must come great strength...
...and the salvation of our people.
- We don't want your business. - How many men live here?
- You have to register. - You can't force me to join.
- Have you got $300? - Of course not.
- Who's got $300? - Lf you're drafted, release from service...
...can only be secured for $300, according to the Conscription Act.
- Otherwise, you have to serve! - Who the hell's got $300?
You have to serve, sir, unless you have $300!
- Boys! - Go back to where you came from!
I'm born in this country. You immigrated here. You will fight for this country!
Sweet Jesus! War does terrible things to men.
- Get back uptown where you belong! - $300? So it's another rich man's war.
Sir, I request an audience with this man.
No one speak English in New York anymore?
- Don't understand. - You do speak English.
I wonder if Miss Everdeane could angle her rifle in some other direction.
I wonder, Mr. Vallon, if you understand the true value of this sort of publicity.
The archbishop himself, shoulder to shoulder with the Irish in the Five Points.
I'm offering to form an alliance with you against Bill Cutting...
...and his slate of Nativist candidates.
I'll negotiate a handsome fee for every Irish vote you send Tammany's way...
...in the coming elections.
I need a new friend in the Five Points, son.
I'd like that friend to be you.
Now, just a moment, Mr. Tweed.
Suppose we do get you those votes.
Would you back an Irish candidate of my choosing?
- I don't think so. - What if we get you all the Irish votes?
That will only happen in the reign of Queen Dick.
- Beg your pardon? - It will never happen.
I might be persuaded to back an Irish candidate for, say, alderman.
- Alderman? - We've already got Irish aldermen.
- So we have. That's why... - Well, what's bigger than alderman?
Sheriff. Sheriff. All right, Mr. Tweed.
You back an Irishman for sheriff of the city and county of New York...
...and we'll get him elected.
I love the Irish, but higher than alderman you shall never climb.
- Well, why not? - For one thing, no man living...
...can consolidate the Irish vote. - I can.
And for another, I mean no effrontery...
...no one's yet found an Irish candidate for sheriff worth voting for.
Monk.
Here.
He's to have me looking as sober as me own grandfather.
- Another great man, I'm sure. - A thorough drunken bastard.
Could I say what I want?
Well, that's why I wanted you.
Our elected representatives are a gang of thieves...
...who swear to better our lot...
...while dipping their hands deep into our pockets.
I stand shoulder to shoulder with community leaders like Bill Cutting...
...against any and all inroads into our fine democracy.
I'll see to it that no one takes away what you've earned by pluck and application.
- To invading hordes of Hibernians!
You go to the polls and you put your mark next to the name Walter McGinn.
- Against the potato eaters, like them over there, thieving our jobs!
Why should so many Irish die down south...
...when the first war to win is not down in Dixie, but right here in these streets?
And who's the finest street fighter in the Five Points?
- Monk! - That's right.
Now, let the whole damn city hear it!
That man was right born for this.
Well, he's killed 44 men, laid low a couple hundred more.
- Is that right? - That's right.
I should have run him for mayor.
All right, line them up. It's election day!
Not so fast, you little yellow bastard!
Come on!
Come on, you bastard, we need your vote.
Bastard? I fought for you, nigger. I lost an arm for you.
Well, that's a start. Now, come on.
Rise and shine. Rise and shine.
In this great country of ours, even the hop fiends get to vote!
Less art and more haste, Don.
- Where are you going? - I already voted today.
Cast for Monk and Tammany, by God. Twice.
Twice? Only twice? You call that doing your civic duty? Come with me.
Oh, no, you don't. Get back and sit down.
Here's another one. Clean him up good.
Shave their beards and send them back to vote again.
All right, boys. Vote Monk, Tammany. Monk, Tammany!
So, gentlemen, what our great city needs is a new courthouse.
I propose it should be a modest, economical structure.
Excuse me one moment.
Monk's already won by 3000 more votes than there are voters.
Three? Make it 20, 30. We don't need a victory. We need a Roman triumph!
- But we don't have any more ballots. - Remember the first rule of politics:
The ballots don't make the results, the counters make the results.
Keep counting.
It's from Bill.
Monk.
Citizens of the Five Points...
...Mr. Bill Cutting is attempting to draw me into an argument...
...that would no doubt end in bloodshed and the compromising of my office.
What do you think?
Should I engage in silence this relic of the ancient law?
Or shall I be your chosen voice in a new testament, in the new world?
There you are, Bill.
The people have spoken.
The very notion of violent reprisal benumbs them.
Come on up.
Let's see if we can resolve our grievances the democratic way.
That, my friends, is the minority vote.
Now you've tasted my mutton. How do you like it?
Look.
I want you to see this.
This is you. Right here.
Notch 45, you Irish bog bastard.
Why don't you burn him, see if his ashes turn green.
Fortune favors the bold!
- You killed an elected official? - Who elected him?
You don't know what you've done to yourself.
I know your works.
You are neither cold nor hot.
So because you are lukewarm, I will spew you out of my mouth.
You can build your filthy world without me.
I took the father. Now I'll take the son.
You tell young Vallon I'm gonna paint Paradise Square with his blood.
Two coats.
I'll festoon my bedchamber with his guts.
As for you, Mr. Tammany-fucking-Hall...
...you come down to the Points again...
...and you'll be dispatched by mine own hand.
Now get back to your celebration and let me eat in peace. I paid you fair.
Stop.
Raise.
You son of a bitch!
Challenge.
Challenge accepted.
And then it came, the first day of the draft.
Thomas O'Neill. Andrew Lewis. Joseph flynn.
They read out the draftees ' names like they was dead already.
Andrew Martin. J.B. Gleason.
- The O'Connell Guard. - The Plug Uglies.
- As for us, the tribes were gathered. - Forty Thieves.
- The Chichesters. - The drums was beating.
The Dead Rabbits.
- The American Guard. - The Atlantic Guard.
- The Slaughter Housers. - The Bowery Boys.
The Confederation of American Natives.
James Mooney.
But all we could see was the hand in front of us.
Sean O'Connell.
G.W. Morris. John Doyle.
- When? - Whenever you like.
- Daybreak tomorrow. - Ground?
Paradise Square.
Weapons?
- That I leave up to you. - Bricks, bats, axes, knives...
Pistols?
No pistols.
Good boy.
The terms are resolved. The council's concluded.
Thomas McEvoy. W.H. Miles.
- To hell with your damned draft! - Give them hellfire, boys!
Rip them apart!
Kill the rich bastards!
Uptown!
You're not getting my son!
Uptown at the draft office...
...the cops broke a few skulls, and everybody run away.
But the word was spreading...
...and the dark.
Up on Fifth Avenue...
...the Schermerhorns and their mob breathed a little easy.
Just a brief burst of anger over Mr. Lincoln's draft.
Entirely justifiable in my view.
- There are two sides to that question... - There are several sides...
...but only one right side, as with any question...
...that involves the abuse of executive power.
In any case, Mr. Greeley...
...we can all be thankful that it wasn't any worse.
It may be worse yet. I saw them. I don't know what to think.
Now what is it that you are so fond of saying, Mr. Tweed?
Mr. Greeley, you won't like this. But what is it?
I don't remember.
"You can always hire one half of the poor to kill the other half."
I've come to say goodbye.
I've booked passage for California.
Jenny, give me one more day, and I'll go with you.
You'll be dead by then.
- Well, what would you have me do? - I don't know.
- This will all be finished tomorrow. - No, it won't.
No.
This whole place is gonna burn anyway.
I've heard that the poor are going from door to door in the Five Points...
...asking those supporters who wish to see further riots...
...to place a lighted candle in the window.
Irish, Poles, Germans, all of them.
Mr. Greeley, the city is not mad. I prophesy a very dark night.
Nobody goes to work today! We'll shut the factories down!
When the sun rose next, the city had split in half.
From all over New York they came:
Ironworkers, factory boys, street cleaners...
...Irish, Polish, German...
...anyone who never cared about slavery or the Union...
...anyone who couldn 't buy his way out.
"Let the sons of the rich go and die, " they cried.
"Let the sons of the poor stay home."
The earth was shaking now.
But I was about my father's business.
A bunch of fifth Avenue scums!
Almighty Lord, you are the dagger in my hand.
Guide my hand on this day of vengeance.
We give thanks to the Lord, for he is good.
With you, the swift cannot flee, nor the strong escape.
Let my sword devour until its thirst is quenched with blood...
...and my enemies sleep forever.
For you are the Lord God of Retribution.
For the Lord crushes the wicked.
The Lord is merciful...
...and his love endures forever.
- Amen. - Amen.
Amen.
- Run away, you sons of bitches! - Come on out!
- Upstairs! Get the women upstairs! - Father! Father!
Let's take the bastards!
From 18th Precinct: The mob are sacking houses, 27th Street and Seventh Ave.
We have no force to send.
16th Precinct: All the stores are closing on Eighth Avenue...
...from fear of the mob in 17th Street.
Show us what you got, you cowardly bastards!
From 4th: The rioters are robbing colored boarding houses...
...and setting them on fire. From 21st:
The mob have just broken open gun store and are arming.
- Get the nigger! Kill him! - Tear Tammany down!
The marshal's office is burning down. The police is of no avail.
Show yourself, Tweed!
Two colored men brought in almost dead.
There are more Negroes who need help. They're being attacked all over.
Hey! There's a $300 man. Get him!
Did your daddy buy you out of the Army? Can he buy me out too?
There's danger of mob attacking armory, corner 21st Street, Second Avenue.
There is about 500 stand of arms in it.
The line is dead! They're trying to cut all the wires!
From 1st: Riot at Pier 4, North River. They have killed Negroes.
A crowd is here and are going to destroy this station.
Get her bag! Get her bag!
From 18th Precinct:
The mob have attacked the armory. There is danger of firing the building.
All 300 police wounded or unaccounted for.
Find the military and send them...
From 20th: Send 100 men to disperse mob assailing Mayor Opdyke's house.
Building set on fire by the mob.
Barnum 's American Muzeum on fire. Animals are escaping.
Let go! Let go!
Hush the shickster! Hold her down!
Gunboat Liberty and ironclad Passaic now lying off the foot of Wall Street.
They are ready to open fire on the mob.
- Very large mob going to attack Tribune office.
From 16th: Mob 's coming down to station. We have no men.
- 18th: The mob is very wild. - From 16th: 7th Regiment has arrived.
Foot of Canal, they are on their way to Broadway.
Take your hands off me!
The mob is about 4500 strong.
They're going to burn down Harlem Bridge. It is to be torched.
- Mr. Greeley! - The rats have taken over the city!
From 21st: There is an attack on the colored people in Second Avenue...
Mob headed for the Colored Orphans Asylum. Protect the children!
Rioters on Seventh Avenue, 28th Street.
- They have killed a Negro. - Get him!
What do we do with captured prisoners?
Prisoners? Don't take any. The mob isn't taking prisoners!
Don't take a prisoner in until you've put the mob down!
Soldiers now on 38th Street. The mob will not disperse.
What are your orders? What are your orders?
- No draft! No draft! - Show them what we think of their draft!
- Stick together! - All right.
Troop, halt!
Present arms!
On your order, Vallon.
Hold fast, there. Hold fast, there.
I order you to disperse!
Fire!
Fire starboard!
Starboard battery, fire!
Come on, let's go!
Fire over their heads!
Drive them into the square!
Bill!
Fire!
Advance!
Bill!
I can't walk!
Get up!
Fire!
- Bastards! - Shang! Shang, hold off!
Thank God.
I die a true American.
Tomorrow morning, get our people down to the docks.
I want every man and woman coming off the boats given hot soup and bread.
We're burying a lot of votes down here tonight.
In the end, they put candles on the bodies so 's their friends...
...if they had any, could know them in the dark.
The city did this free of charge.
Shang, Jimmy Spoils, Hell-Cat, McGloin and more.
Friend or foe, it didn 't make no difference now.
It was four days and nights before the worst of the mob was finally put down.
We never knew how many New Yorkers died that week...
...before the city was finally delivered.
My father told me we was all born of blood and tribulation.
And so then too was our great city.
But for those of us what lived and died in them furious days...
...it was like everything we knew was mightily swept away.
And no matter what they did to build the city up again...
...for the rest of time...
...it would be like no one even knew we was ever here.
Subtitles by SDI Media Group
[ENGLISH]