Amistad

Por favor!

Si.

Dolly!

Dolly!

Lay up, Mr. Packwood!

Aye, aye, sir!

Straight ahead!

Fire over their heads!

Open the gate!

Come on, come on, come on!

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!

Gates! Gates! Gates!

Push 'em in!

Mr. President!

What?

Seor 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.

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.

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.

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 as such, under Article 9 of said

treaty, are to be returned posthaste.

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.

- 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...

- ..these goods!

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.

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.

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.

Goodbye. I bid you gentlemen

a good afternoon.

In closing,...

I call upon our distinguished

colleague from Massachusetts,

Representative John Quincy Adams

to reweigh his unmeet

and unprecedented attempt

to convert this eccentric

bequest of - let's be frank -

a bunch of junk of

one James Smithson,

into a so-called institute

of national treasure!

Perhaps Mr. Adams is meditating

on his response.

Had I thought your remarks worthy

of 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?

- Where?

- Right there, sir.

Lewis! Good to see you again!

- And you, sir.

- 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.

This case has

great significance.

Our secretary of state

is paying it his attention.

You don't have to shout!

He supports the Queen's

claim that she owns the Africans.

- Two sailors are making claims.

- 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.

Sir...

- What?

- I know you, Mr. President.

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