1776 Page #13

farewell to the smell

Of the African coast

Molasses to rum

To slaves

'T isn't morals,

'its money that saves

Shall we dance to the sound

Of the profitable pound?

In molasses and rum

And slaves

Who sail the ships out of Guinea

Ladened with Bibles and slaves?

'Ti's Boston can boast

to the West Indies coast

Jamaica, we brung what ye craves

Antigua, Barbados

We brung Bibles

And slaves

Gentlemen, you mustn't think

that our Northern friends

see our black slaves as

merely figures in a ledger.

Oh, no.

They see them as

figures on a block.

Look at the faces at

the auctions, gentlemen.

White faces on African wharves.

Seafaring faces.

New England faces.

"Put them in the ships."

"Cram them in the ships."

"Stuff them in the ships."

Hurry, gentlemen.

Let the auction begin.

Ya-ha, ya-ha-ma-cundah

Gentlemen, do you hear? That's

the cry of the auctioneer.

Ya-ha, ya-ha-ma-cundah

Slaves, gentlemen!

Black gold!

Living gold!

Gold from Angola!

Guinea, Guinea, Guinea!

Blackbirds for sale

Ashanti, Ibo, Ibo, Ibo!

Blackbirds for sale

Handle them!

Fondle them!

But don't finger them!

They're prime

Ya-ha, ya-ha-ma-cundah

For the love of God,

Mr. Rutledge, please.

Molasses to rum

To slaves

Who sail the ships

back to Boston

Ladened with gold

See it gleam

Whose fortunes are made

in the triangle trade

Hail slavery,

the New England dream

Mr. Adams,

I give you a toast

Hail, Boston

Hail, Charleston

Who stinketh the most?

Mr. Rutledge,

please!

Mr. Hewes.

Dr. Hall.

Don't worry, John.

They'll be back.

Aye, to vote us down.

Adams! Franklin!

It's done. I have it.

And the Maryland

Assembly's approved it.

I told them about

one of the greatest

military engagements in history

against a flock of...

What's wrong?

I thought...

You'll have to forgive them, Mr.

Chase.

They just suffered

a slight setback.

And after all,

"What is a man profited

"if he shall gain Maryland

and lose the entire South?"

Matthew, Chapter 16, Verse 26.

McNair.

Oh, I know.

The flies.

No.

The rum.

Well, what are we

all sitting around for, hmm?

We're wasting time.

Precious time.

Thomas, I want you

to ride down into Delaware

and fetch back Caesar Rodney.

John, are you mad? It's 80

miles, and he's a dying man.

No, he's a patriot.

John, what good will it do?

The South's done us in.

And suppose they

change their minds?

Can we get Delaware

without Rodney?

God! What a bastardy

bunch we are.

Stephen, I want you to...

I'm going to the tavern, Johnny.

If there's anything I can do

for you there, let me know.

Chase.

Bartlett!

What's the use, John? The

vote's tomorrow morning.

There's less than

a full day left.

Roger.

Face facts, John.

It's finished.

I'm sorry, John.

We have no choice, John.

The slavery clause

has got to go.

Franklin, what are you saying?

It's a luxury we can't afford.

A luxury?

A half million souls in chains,

and Dr. Franklin

calls it a luxury.

Maybe you should've

walked out with the South.

You forget yourself, sir.

I founded the first anti-slavery

society on this continent.

Don't wave

your credentials at me.

Perhaps it's time

you had them renewed.

The issue here is independence.

Perhaps you've forgotten

that fact, but I have not.

How dare you

jeopardize our cause

when we've come so far!

These men,

no matter how much

we may disagree with them,

are not ribbon clerks

to be ordered about.

They're proud, accomplished men.

The cream of their colonies.

And whether you like it or not,

they and the people

they represent

will be part of this new

nation you hope to create.

Now either learn how to live with

them or pack up and go home.

In any case, stop acting

like a Boston fishwife.

Good God.

What's happened to me?

John Adams.

The great John Adams.

What have I come to?

Law practice down the pipe.

Farm mortgaged to the hilt.

At a stage in life

when other men prosper,

I'm reduced to

living in Philadelphia.

Philadelphia.

Abigail, what am I going to do?

Do, John?

I need your help.

You don't usually ask my advice.

Yes, well, there doesn't appear

to be anyone else right now.

Very well, John.

What is it?

The entire South has just

walked out of this Congress,

George Washington is on the

verge of total annihilation,

and the precious cause for which I

have labored these several years

has come to nothing.

And it seems that I'm

obnoxious and disliked.

Nonsense, John.

That I am unwilling

to face reality.

Foolishness, John.

That I'm pigheaded.

Ah, well, there you

have me, John.

I'm afraid you are pigheaded.

Well, yes.

Oh, Abby.

Has it been any kind

of a life for you?

God knows I haven't

given you very much.

I never asked for more.

After all,

I am Mrs. John Adams.

That's quite a lot

for one lifetime.

Is it, Abby?

Well, think of it, John.

To be married to the man

who is always the first

in line to be hanged...

Yes. The agitator.

Why, Abby?

You must tell me

what it is. l...

Well, I have always been dissatisfied.

I know that.

But lately, I find that I

reek of discontentment.

It fills my throat

and it floods my brain.

Sometimes I fear there

is no longer a dream,

but only the discontentment.

Oh, John.

Can you really know

so little about yourself?

Can you think so little of me

that you'd believe I'd marry

the man you've described?

Have you forgotten what you

used to say to me? I haven't.

"Commitment, Abby.

"Commitment.

"There are only two creatures of

value on the face of this Earth.

"Those with a commitment,

"and those who require

the commitment of others."

Do you remember, John?

Yes, I remember.

McNAIR:
Mr. Adams!

Mmm.

Are you up there,

Mr. Adams?

What do you want?

There's a delivery

down here for you.

What is it?

Where did it come from?

Who sent it?

Compliments of the Concord

Ladies' Coffee Club

And the Sisterhood

of the Truro Synagogue

And the Friday Evening

Baptist Sewing Circle

And the Holy Christian

Sisters of St. Claire

All for you

John

I am as I ever was

And ever shall be

Yours, yours, yours

Yours

Abigail, what's in these kegs?

Saltpeter, John

McNair!

McNair, go out and buy every damned

pin you can find in Philadelphia.

Pin?

What sort of pin?

Well, I don't know. Whatever the

ladies use for their sewing.

Franklin, Jefferson, what are

you all sitting around for?

Didn't you hear

a word I said before?

Oh, never mind about that.

Now, here's what

I want you to do.

John, I'm not even

speaking to you.

It's too late for that, damn it.

There's work to be done.

Jefferson, go find Rutledge.

Don't come back until

you've worn him down.

Now, you're both

Southern aristocrats.

If he'll listen to anybody,

he'll listen to you.

Franklin, out of that chair!

What good is the South if you

can't deliver Pennsylvania, hmm?

Talk to Wilson.

Get him away from Dickinson.

That's the only way to do it.

Go on, now, both of you.

John...

Time's running out, damn it.

Now move.

I'm still

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