Amistad ~ 1839

In 1839, in waters off the coast of Cuba, a group of forty-nine Africans ensnared in the Atlantic slave trade struck out for freedom. They had been captured, sold into slavery, carried across the ocean, sold again, and they were being transported on the ship Amistad. One of them, a man the world would come to know as "Cinque," worked free of his chains and led a shipboard revolt. Africans tried to force two Cuban survivors to sail them back to Africa, but the Amistad wound up instead in U.S. waters, just past Long Island Sound, where the Africans were again taken into custody. Spain promptly demanded their extradition to face trial in Cuba for piracy and murder, but their plight caught the attention of American abolitionists, who mounted a legal defense on the Africans' behalf. The case went through the American judicial system all the way up to the Supreme Court, where former president John Quincy Adams joined the abolitionists' legal team. Finally, in March 1841, the Supreme Court upheld the freedom the Africans had claimed for themselves. Ten months later, in January 1842, the thirty-five Amistad Africans who had survived the ordeal returned to their homelands.

TIMELINE:

1837 - 1839: 25,000 Africans brought to Cuba as slaves.

April 1839: Cinque captured by other Africans, taken to the slave factory in Lomboko and sold to a Portuguese slave trader.

April - June 1839: Cinque and others resold to another slave trader and put aboard the Tecora which sailed to Cuba.

June 1839: Cinque and others sold to Ruiz and Montes in Havana, Cuba. Amistad leaves Havana for Guanaja with slaves and owners.

July 1839: Mutiny led by Cinque; Amistad's captain and cook killed while two crewmen escape; Africans control Amistad.

July - August 1839: Amistad steered by Montes east by day and northwest by night, toward United States.

August 1839: Amistad captured by crew of U.S.S. Washington off of Long Island, New York; Africans held and taken with Amistad to New London, Connecticut; Judicial hearing, presided over by Judge Judson, on the U.S. S. Washington; Africans await trial in a New Haven, Connecticut jail.

September 1839: Lewis Tappan forms Friend of Amistad Africans Committee; Judge Thompson presides in Circuit Court hearing on Amistad criminal case; case dismissed by Judge Thompson for jurisdictional reasons; civil case left for District Court resolution.

October 1839: Professor Josiah Gibbs locates interperter, James Covey, and the Africans are able to tell their story; teaching Africans the English language and Christianity began; Cinque and others file charges of assualt and false imprisonment against Ruiz and Montes.

November 1839: District Court meets and postpones case.

December 1839: Slave factory at Lomboko, Sierra Leone raided by British and all slaves there liberated.

January 8, 1840: The Amistad civil trial begins in New Haven.

January 15, 1840: Judge Hudson presiding in District Court rules the Africans are to be turned over to the President for return to Africa.

August 1840: Africans taken to Westville.

September 1840: Judge Thompson of the Circuit Court upholds District Court decision; government appeals to U.S. Supreme Court.

October 1840: John Quincy Adams convinces to join Roger Baldwin in arguing the case for the Africans before the Supreme Court.

Feb. - March 1841: Baldwin and Adams argue case before Supreme Court; Court orders Africans to be freed immediately.

Mar. - Nov. 1841: Freed Africans go to Farmington for further English and religious education; local committee plans mission establishment in Africa.

November 1841: African survivors leave with missionaries for Africa aboard Gentleman.

January 1842: Arrive in Sierra Leone; mission experiences problems; many of the Africans abandon missionaries.

1846: Brother Raymond, founder of the mission in Sierra Leone dies of yellow fever and is replaced by George Thomas; 68 students attend the mission; efforts to compensate Spain for the Amistad are opposed in the House by John Quincy Adams.

1860: With the election of Abraham Lincoln as President, efforts to compensate Spain for the Amistad incident come to an end.

1879: Cinque, old and emaciated, comes to the mission to die and is buried among the graves of American missionaries.

Sengbe Pieh (1815 – ca. 1879), later known as Joseph Cinqué, was a West African man of the Mende tribe who was the most prominent defendant in the Amistad case, in which it was proved that he and 52 others had been victims of the illegal Atlantic slave trade.

Cinqué was born in 1815 in what is now Sierra Leone, but his exact date of birth is unknown. He was a married rice farmer with three children until he was captured by African slave traders illegally, violating many treaties, in 1839 and imprisoned on the Portuguese slave ship Tecora He was taken to Cuba where he was sold with 52 others to Spaniards José Ruiz and Pedro Montez.

They were transported on a ship called the Amistad  with the intention of reaching Cuban sugar plantations. However, on June 30 Cinqué led a revolt, killing the captain and the cook of the ship; two slaves also died, and two sailors escaped. The Africans took prisoner Ruiz and Montez, the two merchants who had made the purchase, and demanded that they direct the ship back to Sierra Leone, but instead they directed the ship towards the United States. After about two months, the Amistad reached United States waters near Long Island, New York. Members of the USS Washington came aboard, the Africans were charged with mutiny and murder, and they were taken to New Haven, Connecticut to await trial.

The two Spaniards claimed that the Africans were already slaves in Cuba at the time of their purchase and were therefore legal property. Translators from Mende to English were found, allowing the Africans to tell their story to the court. Cinqué served as the group's informal representative.

In March 1840, the Supreme Court of the United States ruled that the Africans mutinied to regain their freedom after being kidnapped and sold illegally. This was in large part due to the advocacy of former U.S. President John Quincy Adams, who served as the Africans' defense counsel. They were ordered to be permitted to return to Africa, against the protests of President Martin Van Buren.

Cinqué and the other Africans reached their homeland in 1842. Once Cinqué returned, he was faced with civil war. He and his company maintained contact with the local mission for a while, but he eventually left to trade along the coast. Little is known of his later life, but rumors began circulating that he had become a merchant, chief or even a slave trader,  but no documented evidence supports this. The latter charge derives from apocryphal oral accounts from Africa and the 20th century author William A. Owens's claim that he had seen letters from AMA missionaries suggesting Cinqué was a slave trader. Most historians consider the suggestion speculative at best. A dying Cinqué is supposed to have returned to the mission in 1879, where he requested and received a proper Christian burial

The following account appeared in the New London Gazette of August 26,1839:

While this vessel was sounding this day between Gardner’s and Montauk Points, a schooner was seen lying in shore off Culloden Point, under circumstances so suspicious as to authorize Lt. Com. Gedney to stand in to see what was her character--seeing a number of people on the beach with carts and horses, and a boat passing to and fro a boat was armed and dispached with an officer to board her.
On coming along side a number of negroes were discovered on her deck, and twenty or thirty more were on the beach--two white men came forward and claimed the protection of the officer. The schooner proved to be the “Amistad,” Capt. Ramonflues, from the Havana bound to Guanaja, Port Principe, with 54 blacks and two passengers on board ; the former, four nights after they were out, rose and murdered the captain and three of the crew ; they then took possession of the vessel with the intention of returning to the coast of Africa. Pedro Montes, passenger, and Jose Rues owner of the slaves and part of the cargo, were only saved to navigate the vessel.
After boxing about for four days in the Bahama Channel the vessel was steered for the Island of St. Andrews, near New Providence ; from thence she went to Green Key, where the blacks laid in a supply of water. After leaving this place the vessel was steered by Pedro Montes for New Providence, the negroes being under the impression that she was steering for the coast of Africa--they would not, however, permit her to enter the port but anchored every night off the coast.
The situation of the two whites was all this time truly deplorable, being treated with the greatest severity, and Pedro Montes, who had charge of the navigation, was suffering from two severe wounds, one in the head and one in the arm, their lives threatened every instant. He was ordered to change the course again for the coast of Africa, the negroes themselves steering by the sun in the day time, while at night he would alter their course so as to bring them back to their original place of destination.--They remained three days off Long Island, to the Eastward of Providence, after which time they were two months on the ocean, sometimes steering to the Eastward, and whenever an occasson [sic] would permit the whites would alter the course to the Northward and Westward, always in hopes of falling in with some vessel of war, or being enabled to run into some port, when they would be relieved from their horrid situation.
Several times they were boarded by vessels ; once by an American schooner from Kingston. On these occasions the whites were ordered below, while the negroes communicated and traded with the vessel ; the schooner from Kingston supplied them with a demijohn of water, for the moderate sum of one doubloon--this schooner, whose name was not ascertained, finding that the negroes had plenty of money, remained lashed alongside the “Amistad” for twenty-four hours, though they must have been aware that all was not right on board, and probably suspected the character of the vessel--that was on the 18th of the present month ; the vessel was steered to the northward and westward, and on the 20th instant, distant from N.Y. 25 miles, the pilot boat No. 3 came alongside and gave the negroes some apples. She was also hailed by No. 4 ; when the latter boat came near, the negroes armed themselves and would not permit her to board them ; they were so exasperated with the two whites for bringing them so much out of their way that they expected every moment to be murdered.
On the 24th they made Montauk Light and steered for it in the hope of running the vessel ashore, but the tide drifted them up the bay and they anchored where they were found by the brig Washington, off Culloden point. The negroes were found in communication with shore, where they laid in a fresh supply of water, and were on the point of sailing again for the coast of Africa. They had a god supply of money with them, some of which it is likely was taken by the people on the beach.--After they were disarmed, and sent on board from the beach, the ringleader jumped overboard with three hundred doubloons about him, the property of the captain, all of which he succeeded in loosing from his person and then permitted himself to be captured. The schooner was taken in tow by the brig and carried into New London.

One of them, Jose Rues, is very gentlemanly and intelligent young man, and speaks English fluently. He was the owner of most of the slaves and cargo, which he was conveying to his estate on the Island of Cuba.

he other, Pedro Montes, is about fifty years of age, and is the owner of three slaves. He was formerly a ship-master, and has navigated the vessel since her seizure by the blacks. Both of them, as may be naturally supposed are most unfeignedly thankful for their deliverance. Signor Pedro is the most striking instance of complacency and unalloyed delight we ever have seen, and it is not strange, since only yesterday his sentence was pronounced by the chief of the buccaniers, and his death song chanted by the grim crew, who gathered with uplifted sabres around his devoted head, which, as well as his arms, bear the scars of several wounds inflicted at the time of the murder of the ill-fated captain and crew.
He sat smoking his Havana on the deck, and, to junge [sic] from the martyr-like serenity of his countenance, his emotions are such as rarely stir the heart of man. When Mr. Porter, the prize-master, assured him of his safety, he threw his arms around his neck, while gushing tears coursing down his furrowed cheek, bespoke the overflowing transport of his soul Every now and then he clasps his hands, and with uplifted eyes gives thanks to “the Holy Virgin” who had led him out of all his troubles.
Senor Rues has given us two letters for his agents. Messrs, Shelton, Brothers & Co., of Boston, and Peter A. Harmony & Co., of New York. It appears that the slaves, the greater portion of whom were his, were very much attached to him, and had determined, after reaching the coast of Africa, to allow him to seek his home what way he could, while his poor companion was to be sacrificed.
On board the brig we also saw Cingues, the master-spirit and hero of this bloody tragedy, in irons. He is about five feet eight inches in height, 25 or 26 years of age, of erect figure, well built, and very active. He is said to be a match for any two men on board the schooner. His countenance, for a native African, is unusually intelligent, evincing uncommon decision and coolness, with a composure characteristic of true courage and nothing to mark him as a malicious man. He is a negro who would command, in New Orleans, under the hammer, at least $1,500.
He is said to have killed the captain and crew with his own hand, by cutting their throats. He also has several times attempted to take the life of Senor Montes, and the backs of several poor negroes are scored with the scars of blows inflicted by his lash to keep them in submission. He expects to be executed, but nevertheless manifests a sang froid worthy of a Sto[ne] under similar circumstances.
With Capt. Gedney, the surgeon of the port, and others, we visited the schooner, which is anchored within musket shot of the Washington, and there we saw such a sight as we never saw before, and never wish to see again. The bottom and sides of this vessel are covered with barnacles and sea-grass, while her rigging and sales [sic] present a scene worthy of the Flying Dutchman, after her fabled cruise. She is a Baltimore built vessel of matchless model for speed, about 120 tons burthen and about six years old.
On her deck were grouped, amid various goods and arms, the remnant of her Ethiop crew, some decked in the most fantastic manner in the silks and finery pilfered from the cargo while others, in a state of nudity, emaciated to mere skeletons, lay coiled upon the decks. Here could be seen a negro with white pantaloons and the sable shirt which nature gave him, and a planter’s broad-brimmed hat upon his head, with a string of gewgaws around his neck ; and another with a linen cambric shirt, whose bosom was worked by the hand of some dark-eyed daughter of Spain, while his nether proportions were enveloped in a shawl of gauze and Canton crape. Around the windlass were gathered the three little girls, from eight to thirteen years of age, the very images of health and gladness.
Over the deck were scattered, in the most wanton and disorderly profusion, raisins, vermicelli, bread, rice, silk, and cotton goods. In the cabin and hold were the marks of the same wasteful destruction --Her cargo appears to consist of silks, crapes, calicoes, cotton and fancy goods of various descriptions, glass and hardware, bridles, saddles, holsters, pictures, looking-glasses, books, fruits, olives, and olive oil, and “other things too numerous to mention,” which are now all mixed up in a strange and fantastic medldy [sic].
On the forward hatch we unconsciously rested our hand on a cold object, which we soon discovered to be a naked corpse enveloped in a pall of black bombazine. On removing its folds we beheld the rigid countenance and glazed eye of a poor negro who died last night. His mouth was unclosed, and still wore the ghastly expression of his last struggle. Near by him, like some watching fiend, sat the most horrible creature we ever saw in human shape, an object of terror to the very blacks, who said that he was a cannibal. His teeth projected at almost right angles from his mouth, while his eyes had a most savage and demoniac expression.
We were glad to leave this vessel, as the exhalations from her hold and deck were like anything but “gales wafted over the gardens of Gul.” Capt. Gedney has dispatched an express to the U. S. marshal, at New Haven, while he has made the most humane arrangements for the health and comfort of the prisoners, and the purification of the prize. There are now alive 44 negroes, three of whom are girls ; about 10 have died. They have been at sea 63 days.
The vessel and cargo were worth $40,000 when they let Havana, exclusive of the negroes, which cost from 20 to $30,000. Vessel and cargo were insured in Havana.
Capt. Gedney, when he first espied the Amistad, was running a line of sounding toward Montauk Point. He had heard nothing of this vessel being on the coast till after his arrival in this port.
 

As the Amistad sailed along the eastern coast of the United States several pilot boats began running across it. The Columbian Centinel reported this description of the encounter between the Amistad and the pilot boat, Gratitude, as reported by Captain Seaman of the Gratitude:

She spoke the long, low, black schooner twenty-five miles East of Fire Island and about eighteen miles from the land, standing E.N.E. The Gratitude ran within a few yards of her with the intention of putting a pilot aboard. Two or three of the blacks, who appeared to be the ringleaders and kept the others in awe, made signs to the pilot not to come. One had a pistol in one hand and a cutlass in the other, which he flourished over his head to keep the others down. These appeared to be very anxious to receive a pilot and when the eye of the fellow who had the pistol was aft of them, they would beckon the pilot to come aboard. The schooner held a name on her stern which they took to be Almeda. She had a small gilt eaglehead. The latest news from the suspicious vessel is that on Saturday at sunset she was off the end of Long Island, Montauk Point, North by East, twenty miles distant. She was standing east with sail she was able to make.

After the capture of the Amistad by the crew of the Washington, Jose Ruiz and Pedro Montes wrote a letter addressed to the newspaper subscribers of the New London, Connecticut which was published in local newspapers:

The subscribers, Don Jose Ruiz and Don Pedro Montes, in gratitude for their most unhoped for and most providential rescue from the hands of a ruthless gang of African buccaneers, and an awful death, would take this means of expressing, in some slight degree, their thankfulness and obligations to Lieutenant Commander T.R. Gedney, and the officers and crew of the U.S. surveying brig Washington, for their decision in seizing the Amistad, and their unremitting kindness and hospitality in providing for their comfort on board their vessel, as well as the means they have taken for the protection of their property.

We also must express our indebtedness to that nation whose flag they so worthily bear, with an assurance that this act will be duly appreciated by our most gracious sovereign, Her Majesty the Queen of Spain.

The Hartford Courant published an article expressing the opinion that no legal grounds for action against the Amistad Africans existed:

By the laws of the United States, the African slave trade is declared to be piracy and the persons engaged in it are liable to be punished as pirates. It would be very extraordinary then if these men, who had been stolen from their own country, and brought away for the purpose of being reduced to slavery, should be punished in the United States for using such means as they possessed to extricate themselves from the power and custody of men who gained that custody by the perpetration of a crime which by our laws would cost them their lives. It would be a singular case if both parties in the same transaction should be held guilty of a capital offense and suffer the same penalty of the law for their crimes.

The description of conditions on the slave ship during the journey from Africa given by Gilabaru, as translated by James Covey, to reporters and published in the New York Journal of Commerce:

On board the vessel there was a large number of men, but the women and children were by far the most numerous. They were fastened together by couples by the wrists and legs and kept in that situation day and night. By day it was no better. The space between the decks was so small - according to their account not exceeding four feet - that they were obliged, if they attempted to stand, to keep a crouching posture. The decks, fore and aft, were crowded to overflowing. They suffered terribly. They had rice enough to eat but they had very little to drink. If they left any of the rice that was given to them uneaten, either from sickness or any other cause, they were whipped. It was a common thing for them to be forced to eat so much as to vomit. Many of the men, women and children died on the passage.

John Quincy Adams expressed the following in a letter dated November 19, 1839 written to and published in the New York Journal of Commerce:

The Africans of the Amistad were cast upon our coast in a condition perhaps as calamitous as could befall human beings, not by their own will - not with any intention hostile or predatory on their part, not even by the act of God as in the case of shipwreck, but by their own ignorance of navigation and the deception of one of their oppressors whom they had overpowered, and whose life they had spared to enable them by his knowledge of navigation to reach their native land.

They were victims of the African slave trade, recently imported into the island of Cuba, in gross violation of the laws of the Island and of Spain; and by acts which our own laws have made piracy - punishable with death. They had indicated their natural right to liberty, by conspiracy, insurrection, homicide and capture and they were accused by the two Cuban Spaniards embarked with them in the ship, of murder and piracy - and they were claimed by the same two Cuban Spaniards, accessories after the fact to the slave-trade piracy, by which they had been brought from Africa to Cuba, as their property, because they had bought them from slave-trade pirates.

They knew nothing of the Constitution, laws or language of the country upon which they were thus thrown, and accused as pirates and murderers, claimed as slaves of the very men who were their captives, they were deprived even of the faculty of speech in their own defense. This condition was sorely calamitous; it claimed from the humanity of a civilized nation compassion; - it claimed from brotherly love of a Christian land sympathy; - it claimed from a Republic professing reverence for the rights of man justice - and what have we done?

A naval officer of the United States seizes them, their ship and cargo, with themselves; tramples on the territorial jurisdiction of the state of New York, by seizing, disarming and sending on board their ship, without warrant of arrest, several of them whom he found on shore; releases their captives; admits the claim of the two captives to fifty masters as their slaves; and claims salvage for restoring them to servitude. They are then brought before a court of the United States, at once upon the charge of piracy and murder, upon a claim to them as slaves, and upon a claim against their pretended masters for salvage, by kidnapping them again into slavery. The Circuit Judge decides that the United States do not exercise the right of all other civilized nations to try piracies committed in foreign vessels; that he thereupon cannot try them for piracy or murder, but that the District Court may try whether they are slaves or not; as it is doubtful whether this trial will be held in Connecticut or New York, and it must take time to ascertain in which, they shall in the mean time be held as slaves to abide the issue.

Is this compassion? Is it sympathy? Is it justice? But here the case now stands.

On February 10, 1840 the Hartford Courant published an article attacking President Martin Van Buren for his stand on the Amistad case.

We are informed by a gentleman from New Haven that a short time previous to the trial of the Africans of the Amistad, before the U.S. District Court at New Haven, Judge Judson presiding, Martin Van Buren addressed a letter to the Judge recommending and urging him to order the Africans to be taken back to Havana in a government vessel, to be sold there as slaves - and that about the same time the U.S. schooner Grampus was ordered to New Haven for the purpose of receiving them. The schooner, we learned from several sources, arrived at New Haven about the time of the trial under "sealed orders" and, after learning the decision of the court again, "made off." The letter of the President, recommending that these poor unfortunate Africans be sent into perpetual bondage, is said to contain statements disgraceful to the high station of its author, and which, were they published, would excite the indignation of every Republican freeman in the land. What will the friends of liberty say to this? Surely Martin Van Buren is playing the part of a tyrant with a high hand - else why this tampering with our courts of justice, this Executive usurpation, and this heartless violation of the inalienable rights of man? Of the truth of the above there is no doubt, and we leave the unprincipled author of such a proceeding in the hands of a just and high-minded People.

A letter to the New London Gazette from an unidentified writer provided additional information regarding the arrival of the Grampus in New Haven at the time of the trial.

Now, sir it appears to me to be of little consequence to know whether instructions came from Washington or whether the case was decided before trial and its decision transmitted thither - if either supposition be true (and the facts have a strong squinting that way) the people should know it. The stride which the President has made towards universal power in other branches of the government render it by no means improbable that he has at length assumed the duties of the Judiciary, and that the case was decided at Washington long before the trial, and the Grampus held in readiness to remove the Negroes the moment the court completes the forms of the trial.

I cannot hope, sir, that this view of the subject is a mistaken one; for if it be true, our Federal Courts have become the mere instruments of the President, and if this case was prejudged without hearing either of the testimony or argument, what security is left us for our property or liberties?

Until the movements of the Grampus are explained there will remain in the minds of many, even of those who are friends of the Administration, a painful suspicion of foul play.

A reporter for the Boston Recorder described the Amistad Africans after visiting them in Westville as follows:

With one or two exceptions, they all have active minds and are quick, shrewd and intelligent. They possess deep and warm affections. Their love of Africa and home is very strong; in reply to a question put to two of the most intelligent of their number, the instant and deep-feeling answer was, "Tell the American people that we very, very much want to go home." Poor fellows! Who can doubt it?

also called from his country, Kon-no-ma, is 5 ft. 4 in. in height, has large lips, and projecting mouth, his incisor teeth pressed outward and filed, giving him rather a savage appearance; he is the one who was supposed to be a cannibal, tattooed in the forehead with a diamond shaped figure. He was born in the Konno country: his language is not readily understood by Covey, the interpreter. Kon-no-ma recognizes many words in Mungo Park's Mandingo vocabulary

Fu-li-wa, Fu-li, (sun,) called by his fellow prisoners Fuliwa, (great Fuli,) to distinguish him from Fu-li-wu-lu, (little Fuli,) was born at Ma-no, a town in the Mendi country, where his king, Ti-kba, resided. He lived with his parents, and has five brothers. His town was surrounded by soldiers, some were killed, and he with the rest were taken prisoners. He passed through the Vai country, when taken to Lomboko, and was one month on the journey. He is in middle life, 5 ft. 3 in. high, face broad in the middle, with a slight beard. It was this Fuli who instituted the suit against Ruiz and Montez.

Mar-gru, (black snake,) 4 ft. 3 in. a young girl, with a large, high forehead; her parents were living; she had four sisters and two brothers; she was panwed by her father for a debt, which being unapid, she was sold intoslavery.

Four of the fifty-three Africans who boarded La Amistad in Havana in 1839 were children under the age of ten.

We know from historical documents that the female captives Kagne and Margru were sold because their fathers did not pay a debt. Kale, a boy, was kidnapped on a village street. Teme, a girl, was seized by a gang of men who burst into her mother's house one night. She never saw her mother or any of her other relatives again.

Much more information is known about Margru. She returned to Africa following the Supreme Court decision to free the captives and return them to their homeland; she is the only one of Amistad's child captives who subsequently returned to the United States. This is her story.

Margru was born in West Africa in the village of Bendembu, in Mandingo country, about one hundred miles south of Freetown and forty to sixty miles from the West-African coast. Margru was one of only a few children among the hundreds of people who were jammed into the Dunbomo slave pens on Lomboko Island awaiting slave ships to carry them across the Atlantic. Transported to Havana, Cuba, Margru was among those who were destined for transport on board La Amistad.

Following the events on board La Amistad, Margru and the other captives were eventually brought to New Haven, Connecticut. Lewis Tappan, a New York philanthropist and abolitionist, was outraged at the way the captives were treated and quickly helped organize the Amistad Committee to raise money for the captives' legal defense. (This committee later became the American Missionary Association.) Tappan also became an advocate for the children and over time would become Margru's greatest benefactor. Recognizing how traumatic the situation was for the children, Tappan arranged for them to reside in the home of the jailer and his wife, Colonel and Mrs. Pendleton. While the children certainly enjoyed more comforts and privacy there, they also served as domestic servants and were most certainly ill-treated.

In March 1841, two-and-one half years after their capture, the captives, now free, were moved to the abolitionist community of Farmington, Connecticut, where they were housed, fed and tutored by residents while awaiting funds for their return to Africa. Teme was given the name "Maria" and Kagne was named "Charlotte." Margru was named Sarah Kinson (almost certainly by Lewis Tappan).

Sarah joined other captives on abolitionist-sponsored tours along the East Coast where they presented programs to raise money for their passage back to Africa. They read from the New Testament, performed dramatic enactments of the Amistad story and sang both African songs and Christian hymns. Newspaper accounts of Sarah's part in these performances often noted her intelligence and educational attainments.

In November 1841, arrangements were finally made for the Africans to return to Africa. Sarah, now age ten, joined the thirty-five remaining Amistad survivors on the trip. However, on this trip, she was not forced to remain in the hold. Instead the three girls, Sarah, Maria and Charlotte, traveled in a large stateroom with the five missionaries accompanying them on the trip. John Raymond, his wife Elizabeth and their new baby were among the missionaries traveling with the Africans. The missionaries had agreed to come to Africa to build a new Christian and antislavery mission station for the Mendeans somewhere in Sierra Leone's interior. Raymond had attended Oberlin College. Eventually, Sarah, Maria, and Charlotte were able to settle for awhile in the temporary mission, Kaw Mende. After they were reasonably settled, Raymond began to write Lewis Tappan with news of Sarah. In a May 1845 letter, later published in the Oberlin Evangelist, Raymond wrote, "I am happy to say we are doing well. Sarah I have made my housekeeper, Charlotte is cook, and Maria waits upon my wife and does the housework...Sarah is almost continually singing."

By November he wrote another Oberlin missionary that he had never seen any other African girl "equal" to Sarah and that ..."she ought to go to America to be educated, then she could be qualified to be at the head of the female department of our school."

Seven years after the famous Amistad Incident, fifteen-year-old Sarah embarked on yet another transatlantic voyage to America. In America, Sarah got to Oberlin where Lewis Tappan had arranged for Marianne Parker Dascomb, the Principal of the Ladies Department, to oversee her care and education. In 1846, Sarah began her first formal education at Oberlin's Little Red School House. The homesick girl wrote Tappan...

In the winter of 1848, Sarah was admitted to Oberlin College's Ladies' Department and began taking college-level courses. By all reports, she was successful, made friends and did very well in her studies. Throughout it all, her heart was always in Africa. She wrote...

Sarah returned to Africa in November 1849 as the schoolmistress of the Mission's new girl's school. In September 1852 she married Edward Green, an African who had been educated in Freetown at British Mission schools. Green had converted to Christianity shortly before arriving at Kaw Mende to teach at the station's new boy's school.

Sarah appears to have lived a happy and productive life at Kaw Mende.

The foregoing list comprises all the Africans captured with the Amistad, now [May, 1840] living. Six have died while they have been in New Haven; viz 1, Fa Sept. 3d, 1839; 2, Tua (a Bullom name) died Sept. 11th; 3, We-lu-wa (a Bandi name) died Sept. 14th; 4, Ka-ba, a Mendi man, died Dec. 321st; 5, Ka-pe-li, a Mendi youth, died Oct. 30; 6 Yam-mo-ni, in middle life, died Nov. 4th.

Jose Ruiz, also known as Pepe, was a twenty-four-year-old Cuban who purchased, for $450 a piece,  forty-nine adult male Africans at a baracoon in Havana in June, 1839.  On June 26, Ruiz obtained fraudulent passports for the would-be slaves, authorizing their transport to his plantation near Puerto Principe, Cuba, and listing the Africans as "black Ladinos".  While enroute to Puerto Principe aboard the schooner Amistad, the Africans revolted.  Ruiz sustained several minor wounds in the mutiny, but was spared death after the Africans were convinced that he and fellow  Cuban slaveowner Montes could be helpful in steering the schooner back to their native Africa. The Africans would later accuse Ruiz of cruelty, alleging that he had whipped four of their number for such infractions as stealing water.

After the Amistad was boarded by crewmembers of the U. S. S. Washington, Ruiz, who spoke English, told the story of the mutiny and improbable voyage to Long Island.  He repeated his story at a hastily called judicial hearing aboard the brig, and asked for the return of his slaves and cargo.  At the hearing, Ruiz admitted privately to an abolitionist named Dwight Janes that the Amistad captives were "just from Africa," and therefore not legally slaves.  Ruiz did not testify in subsequent criminal or civil trials, most likely because he feared a possible perjury prosecution if he were to state under oath that he did not know the blacks had recently arrived in Cuba from Africa.

In October, 1839, Ruiz was staying in a rented hotel room in New York City when he was served in a civil suit charging him with assault, battery, and false imprisonment.  Ruiz would spend the next month before trial in a New York jail, while Montes was on his way back to Cuba.

Judge Judson found that Ruiz was without legal title to his would-be slaves, and that his only remedy was to find the owner of the Cuban baracoon who illegally took $20,000 for the blacks.

Pedro Montes was a wealthy 58-year-old Cuban businessman who bought four children, including three girls, who would become Amistad captives. On June 22, 1839 he obtained fraudulent passports authorizing the transport of his new slaves to his plantation at Puerto Principe on the nortwest coast of Cuba. On June 28, at night in order to avoid British inspection, Montes departed Havana along with his slaves aboard the Amistad.

When the mutiny began aboard the Amistad, Montes attacked Cinque with a knife and stick. His attack was thwarted by Fanquanah, who slashed him with a sugar cane knife. Montes ran below deck and hid himself between two barrels, wrapped up in a sail. He was discovered by Fuleh, who intended to kill him until he was convinced by Kimbo that he might be useful in piloting the Amistad to Sierra Leone. Montes was taken on deck and tied to Ruiz. After Cinque held a knife to his throat, Montes agreed to sail east, but then tricked his captors by charting a westerly course at night.

After the Amistad's interception off Long Island, Montes began efforts to have the Africans, and the vessel and its cargo returned to him. As a practical matter, his legal interests were represented by U. S. Attorney Holabird.

LETTER FROM KA-LE TO ADAMS

Dear Friend Mr. Adams,

I want to write a letter to you because you love Mendi people and you talk to the Great Court. Want to tell you one thing. Jose Ruiz say we born in havanna, he tell lie . . . we all born in Mendi--we no understand Spanish language . . . we want you to ask the court what we have done wrong. What for Americans keep us in prison. Some people say Mendi people crazy dolts because we no talk American language. Americans no talk Mendi. American people crazy dolts? They tell bad things about Mendi people and we no understand. . . . Dear friend Mr. Adams you have children and friends you love them you feel very sorry if Mendi people come and take all to Africa. . . .

LETTER FROM KIN-NA TO ADAMS

. . . Judge Judson say you be free, but Government say No . . . If man have knife and come to American people and say I kill I eat what America people do? . . . Dear friend Mr. Adams we love you very much we ask we beg you to tell court let Mendi people be free. . . .

LETTER FROM KIN-NA TO TAPPAN

Dear Sir:

We have reached Sierra Leone and one little while after we go Mendi and we get land very safely. Oh dear friend, pray to God. God will hear your prayer. We will pray for you; and God is very great, very good and kind. We have been on great water. Not any danger fell upon us. Oh, no. We never forget glorious God for these great blessings. How joyful we shall be. I never forget you. May God be blessed. Our blessed saviour Jesus Christ have done wondrous works. Dear Mr. Tappan, how I feel for these wondrous things. I pray Jesus will hear you; if I never see you in this world, we will meet in heaven.

Your true friend,

Kin-na

THE MENDEAN NEGROES: We published a few days since, the reply of the President to the Mendean committee, in reply to their application for aid to return these negroes to their native country. The following characteristic letter to the President was written by the Chief, (CINQUE,) who has been taught to read and write here:-

FARMINGTON, CONN., OCT. 5, 1841.

You have done a great deal for us. Now we want to go home, very much, very soon. As soon as you can send us. We want to land at no other place but Sierra Leone. When we get to Sierra Leone we get home we find a good place for our teachers, and then we tell our parents, come and see them. We want plenty of calicoes, not cut, and plenty of cloth for men's clothes--for pantaloons, coats and vests--not cut. For we think we wear 'Merica dress as long as we live, and we want our friends who come to live with us to wear 'Merica dress too. And we want plenty to give our friends and have them; give us elephant teeth, palm oil, camwood, and other things to send you to 'Merica. We will take good care of our teachers, We will not leave them. When we are in Mende we never hear such a thing as men taken away and carried to Cuba, and then return home again. The first thing we tell them will be that the great God bring us back. We tell them all about 'Merica. We tell them about God and how Jesus Christ, his only beloved Son, came down to die for us, and we tell them to believe, for this your son was lost before now, and is found, for not any thing make him found but God. Now we want you to give your children to us--give to the teachers to try teach them. We will try to teach them to pray, and not to pray to anything but God.

Some wicked people here laugh at Mr. TAPPAN and all our committee for spending so much for Mende people. They say we are like dogs without any home. But if you will send us home you will see whether we be dogs or not. We want to see no more snow. We no say this place no good, but we afraid of cold. Cold catch us all the time. We have a great many friends here and we love them just as we love our brethren.

We want to go very soon, and go to no place but Sierra Leone.

Your friend,

Cinque

I arrived here last Friday evening, with three men who are natives of Africa, and who were joined the next day by two others, to act as interpreters in conversing with Joseph Cinquez and his comrades. On going to the jail, the next morning, we found to our great disappointment, that only one of the men, J. F. was able to converse with the prisoners. He is about 30 years of age, a native of Geshee or Gishe, which is about 100 or 150 miles from the mouth of the river Gallinas, in the interior, which is about a day’s journey south of Sierra Leone. He was kidnapped when about 12 years of age, and was liberated in Colombia, by Bolivar. He is able to converse a little in the Mandingo dialect, but understands better that of Gallinao, which some of the prisoners can speak. Most of the prisoners can understand him, although none of them can speak his Geshee dialect. You may imagine the joy manifested by these poor Africans, when they heard one of their own color address them in a friendly manner, and in a language they could comprehend!

The prisoners are in comfortable rooms.--They are well clothed in dark striped cotton trowsers, called by some of the manufacturers “hard times,” and in striped cotton shirts. The girls are in calico frocks, and have made the little shawls that were given them into turbans. The prisoners eyed the clothes some time, and laughed a good deal among themselves before they put them on. Their food is brought to them in separate tin pans, and they eat it in an orderly manner. In general, they are in good health. One of their number, however, died on Tuesday last, and two or three more are on the sick list and considered dangerous. They probably suffer for want of exercise in the open air. The four children are apparently from 10 to 12 years of age. The boy and two of the girls (who appeared to be sisters) are Mandingos, and the other girl is from Congo. They are robust, are full of hilarity, especially the Mandingos. The sheriff of the county took them to ride in a wagon on Friday. At first their eyes were filled with tears, and they seemed to be afraid, but soon they enjoyed themselves very well, and appeared to be greatly delighted. The children speak only their native dialects. Neither Cinquez nor any of his comrades have been manacled since they have been here. Their demeanor is altogether quiet, kind, and orderly.

Most of the prisoners told the interpreter that they are from Mandingo. The district of Mandingo, in the Senegambia country, is bounded by the Atlantic Ocean, and is directly north of Liberia. Two or three of the men, besides one of the little girls, are natives of Congo, which is on the coast just south of the equator. The man with some of his teeth like tusks, is from Gahula in Congo. The teeth are said to be sharpened and made thus prominent by artificial means. One of the men from Mandingo, named Dama, talks Mandingo, and is a good looking and intelligent man. Cinquez is about 5 feet 8 inches high, of fine proportions, with a noble air. Indeed, the whole company, although thin in flesh, and generally of slight forms, and limbs, especially, are as good looking and intelligent a body of men as we usually meet with. All are young, and several are quite striplings. The Mandingos are described in books as being a very gentle race, cheerful in their dispositions, inquisitive, credulous, simple hearted, and much given to trading propensities. The Mandingo dialects are spoken extensively, and it is said to be the commercial language of nearly the whole coast of West Africa. We found that the following words are nearly the same in the Gallinas of the interpreter, in the Mandingo of the prisoners, in the Mandingo of Mungo Park, and in Jallowka of the German author Adeburg, viz: --Sun, moon, woman, child, father, head, hand, and foot. The numerals do not agree so well. If any person, who reads this statement, can furnish the Committee information concerning the Mandingo language, and its different dialects, particularly for vocabularies, they may render important service in the future examination of these unfortunate Africans. Professor Gibbs, of Yale College, has Adeburg’s Mithridates, Park’s Travels, and Mollien’s Travels in Africa, and Professor Silliman has Prichard’s Physical History of Mankind, which are at the service of the Committee.

Senegambia extends 800 miles in length, and where widest is about 700 miles. It is inhabited by different tribes, all negroes, living under petty sovereigns. Among these nations, the Foulahs, Jalcops, and Mandingoes, are the most numerous. Others less prominent are the Feloops, Naloes, Pagoes, Susoos, Timmancis, &c. The Foulahs are Mahomedans . The Mandingoes are the most numerous people of this region. These are partly Mahomedans and partly Pagans. Their original country is Manding, of which the government is said to be a species of republicanism. Nearly all the prisoners appear to be people of this description. The physician says they have nearly all been circumcised. No person will be able to converse with them well until he can speak the dialect of Manding. Persons, however, born on the Gallinas river may be able to converse with some of them. Although there are many native Africans in New York, and some of them came probably from places not remote from the native places of most of these prisoners, yet it is difficult to find an interpreter who can converse with them readily and intelligently. The tribes in Africa are very numerous, almost every tribe has a distinct language, and it often varies, it is said, from village to village.

After conversing awhile, through the interpreter with the men, who are in three different rooms, and with the four children, who are in a room by themselves, we went to the door of the room where Joseph Cinquez is confined: He is with several savage looking fellows, black and white, who are in jail on various charges. Visitors are not allowed to enter this strong hold of the jail, and the inmates can only be seen and conversed with through the aperture of the door. The jailer is fearful that some of them would escape if the door was opened in frequently. Even the other African prisoners are not permitted to hold converse with their Chief. Before they and he were deprived of this privilege, and when he occasionally came among them, they gathered around him, all talking at once, and shaking hands, as if they rejoiced to see him among them. They appeared to look up to him, I am told, with great respect. We found Cinquez stretched upon his bedding on the floor, wholly unclothed, with a single blanket partly wrapped around him. He arose at the call of the jailer, rather reluctantly, and came towards us with a good degree of gracefulness and native dignity. Afterwards we saw him well clothed; but he does not seem to like the tight dress of this country. At first he seemed adverse to answering the questions of the interpreter, and made the impression that he could not speak the Mandingo dialect. But after the interpreter had told him that he had conversed freely with his comrades, he conversed very freely, and with much energy of expression and action. R. S. Baldwin, Esq., of counsel for the prisoners, and Professor Gibbs having accompanied the interpreter.

Joseph Cinquez, as the Spaniards have named him, but who pronounces his name in his own language, Shinquau, says he is a native of the Mandingo country. His father is neither a king nor a chief, but one of the principal men. Shinquau was kidnapped and sent down to the town of Gendema or Geduma, in the Gallina country. The interpreter knows the place, says it is from ten to fifteen miles from the ocean. It is a small town on an inconsiderable river. Here he was put into the hands of King Sharka, and after staying a while was delivered by this king “to a great man” named Fulekower, belonging to Manu, near the mouth of the river Gambia , who disposed of him to the Spaniards. By them he was sent on board a ship, where he met, for the first time, the persons who are now with him in prison. From Shinquau and his comrades we gathered the following statements, nearly in their very words, as translated by the interpreter:--They demanded of the slavers where they were going to take them, but got no satisfactory answer. In one and a half moons, they said, we arrived at Havana. Here they were put ashore, and confined one moon in a house very close. Then they were put on board the schooner which brought them to this country, and continued on board of her about one moon or a month. After being on board the schooner sometime, they agreed to take the schooner and go back to their own country. Previous to this the Captain was very cruel and beat them severely. They would not take it, to use their own expression, and therefore turned to and fought for it. After this they did not know which way to go. But at length they told the Spaniards to take them to Sierra Leone. “They made fools of us,” said Shinquau, “and did not go to Sierra Leone.” In the day time, they said they could tell very well which way to go by the sun, but at night the Spaniards deceived them, and put the vessel the other way. After this said they, we got here, and did not know where we were.

Captain Green, of Sag Harbor, who was one of the first men the prisoner met ashore, before their capture by Lieut. Gedney, of the U.S. brig Washington, and who has given me a circumstantial account, differing in many respects from what has been published, of all that took place, says that the Africans asked him, by one of their number who speaks a little broken English, “What country is this?” He replied, this is America. They immediately asked, “Is it a slave country?” Captain Green answered, it is free here, and safe, and there are no Spanish laws here. Shinquau then gave a sort of whistle, when they all sprang upon their feet and shouted. Captain Green and his associates sprang to their wagon for their guns, supposing the Africans were about to attack them. But Shinquau came up, delivered his cutlass and gun, and even offered his hat, &c, and the rest did the same, indicating that they would give all up, that Capt. G. might take charge of the schooner and everything on board. They however begged of him to take them to Sierre Leone. Shinquau positively assured Capt. G. at the time, and he repeats it now, that they threw nothing overboard. The stories about his loosening his girdle, and letting three or four hundred doubloons drop into the sea, and of diving and keeping under water forty minutes, are considered fabulous. The Africans assert that there was a quantity of doubloons in the trunks that were carried on shore on Long Island, and Captain Green says he heard the money rattle as the trunks were returned to the schooner by order of Lieut. Gedney. On examining the contents of the trunks afterwards no gold was found! Some person, or persons, are supposed to have the money, but who, is a secret.. While on shore, at Long Island, Shinquau and his companions, although hungry, and with arms in their hands, would not kill a single animal, or take an article even to satisfy their hunger, without paying generously for it. They appeared, it is true, to know very little about the value of money, and gave a doubloon for a dog, and a small gold piece for some victuals.

The African prisoners are orderly and peaceable among themselves. Some of them sing well, and appear to be in good spirits and grateful for the kindness shown them. Col. Stanton Pendleton, at whose house I stop, is the jailer, and is kind and attentive to the prisoners. He provides them wholesome food in sufficient quantities, and gives every reasonable indulgence to the numerous visitors, from the neighboring towns and elsewhere, who throng the prison continually to see these interesting strangers from a distant land. Col. P. has allowed me to take copies of the warrants of commitment. The little girls, and the negro boy, Antonio, are committed as witnesses, “for neglecting to become recognized to the United States with surety,” and Shinquau and his comrades are bound over “for murder on the high seas.”

I have read an ingenious and well written article in the Evening Post signed Veto, in which the learned writer presents a pretty full examination of the case of the schooner Amistad. He says that it seems but too probable that the slave holders, Messrs. Ruez and Montez, conscious of the invalidity of their claim in the Civil Courts, have drawn this criminal prosecution (the charge of murder) to give time to their government to make a demand: and he rather singularly says “ this raises a far more difficult question. ” If Veto will turn to Niles’ Register for 1823, he will find an elegantly written and very able opinion of Chief Justice Tilghman, of Pa., on this subject, in which that eminent jurist, in giving his own judgment against the claim of a foreign government in the case of a fugitive charged with treason or murder, where there exists no treaty stipulation, as there does not at present between the United States and Spain, refers also to the corroborative opinions of all the preceding Presidents of the United States, (with the exception of the elder Adams, who had not given an opinion) very clearly and satisfactorily shows that the government of this country ought not to surrender persons situated as are Joseph Shinquau and his unfortunate countrymen, who are, by the act of God, thrown upon these shores to find, I trust, that protection and relief of which they had been, probably, forever deprived had it not been for this remarkable and providential interposition.
I remain, very truly, yours,
LEWIS TAPPAN.

P. S. Sabbath evening. The Rev. H. G. Ludlow prayed for the poor Africans this forenoon, very feelingly, at the service in his church. The outer door of the jail was closed today, and visitors generally were not admitted. I distributed some religious tracts, in the morning, to the convicts, and attempted to instruct the African prisoners, especially the children. They pronounce words in English very distinctly, and have already nearly the numerals. In showing them some books containing pictures of tropical animals, birds, &c., they seemed much pleased to recognize those with whose appearance they were acquainted, endeavoring to imitate their voices and actions. With suitable instruction these intelligent and docile Africans would soon learn to read and speak our language, and I cannot but hope that some of the benevolent inhabitants of this city will diligently continue to improve the opportunity to impart instruction to these pagans, brought by the providence of God to their very doors. Towards evening we made a visit to Shinquau, and conversed with him a considerable time. He drew his hand across his throat, as his room mates said he had done frequently before, and asked whether the people here intended to kill him. He was assured that probably no harm would happen to him--that we were his friends--and that he would be sent across the ocean towards the rising sun, home to his friends. His countenance immediately lost the anxious and distressed expression it had before, and beamed with joy. He says he was born about two days travelling from the ocean; that he purchased some goods, and being unable to pay for only two thirds of the amount, he was seized by the traders, his own countrymen, and sold to king Sharka for the remaining third. “I dont tell a bit of a lie about it,” he said.--He says he left in Africa both his parents, a wife and three children. Two of the children, he remarked, are a little larger than the African girls who are prisoners, and the other about as large. We endeavored to ascertain what his ideas were about a Supreme Being, if he had any. He said, “God is good.” His countrymen, he says, know nothing about reading or writing. Tomorrow we expect to have him taken out of his cell, and examined, through the interpreter, by Messrs. Staples and Baldwin. L. T.
 

The implications of the Amistad case were profound. If the Africans were found guilty under American law, they faced permanent slavery or death. If they were handed over to Spanish authorities without trial, as Spain pressed President Martin Van Buren to do, the constitutional separation of powers was openly compromised. If freed after a trial, key pro-slavery forces would be embittered and likely withdraw their support for Van Buren who sought reelection in 1840.

Hoping that the courts would order the Africans returned to Cuba, President Van Buren requested and received a concurring opinion from U.S. Attorney General Felix Grundy and the Cabinet. Secretary of State John Forsyth had a ship ready to sail for Cuba immediately after the trial, to prevent an appeal. The Africans defense centered around the fact that the importation of slaves from Africa was illegal under Spanish law, and international treaties to which Spain was a party. During the District Court trial, Cinque and the others described how they had been kidnapped, mistreated, and sold into slavery. The District Court judge agreed, ruling that the Africans were legally free and should be transported home. (The murder and conspiracy charges were dropped in the circuit court trial, the judge having found that the United States had no jurisdiction in those incidents.) Dismayed, the president ordered an immediate appeal, and the case went to the U.S. Supreme Court.

The Amistad Committee believed that they would need additional legal help to assure a favorable outcome for the Africans and decided to ask former President John Quincy Adams to intervene on their behalf. Adams was considered one of the nation's leading opponents of slavery because of his relentless fight against the gag rule in Congress, which between 1836 and 1844 prevented Congress from considering antislavery petitions. Adams's status as a former President would attract publicity and interest in the case and forestall the Van Buren administration from failing to extend due process of law to the Africans. The interpretation of international law and treaties between the United States and Spain would be important to the outcome of the case, many of which Adams, had helped to formulate while serving as a diplomat and Secretary of State. Finally, even though he had not actively worked as a lawyer for quite a while, Adams had experience arguing before the United States Supreme Court.

In November 1841, Ellis Gray Loring and Lewis Tappan of the Amistad Committee paid a call on Adams at his home in Quincy, Massachusetts, (today the Adams National Historical Park "Old House") to ask him to defend the Africans. At first, Adams questioned his ability to rise to this challenge. He was 72 years old, nearly blind, busy with his duties as a member of Congress, and had not argued a case as a lawyer in more than 30 years. He ultimately took the case believing that this would be his last great service to his nation. In February 1840, he argued passionately for the Africans' right to freedom, decrying President Van Buren's illegal attempts to influence the judicial system and circumvent the Constitution. In March 1841, the Supreme Court issued its final verdict: the Amistad Africans were free people and should be allowed to return home. John Quincy Adams wrote a letter to inform his co-counsel Roger Sherman Baldwin of the verdict and reported that, “The decision of the Supreme Court in the case of the Amistad has this moment been delivered by Judge Story. The captives are free...Yours in great haste and great joy...”

During the time the Mende were held in New Haven, the U.S. District Court convened here in January of 1840, after having postponed the Mende's hearing from their session in Hartford the previous fall. The court ruled that the Africans were not legally enslaved and placed the captives under the charge of U.S. President Martin Van Buren. The President ordered an appeal to the U.S. Circuit Court, which upheld the District Court's ruling when it also convened in New Haven that April. Awaiting a final hearing on the case by the U.S. Supreme Court, the Mende were transferred from New Haven to a warehouse in Westville in August of 1840.

The green is home to a new Amistad Memorial at the site of the former jail, which highlights significant episodes of the Amistad story in which Sengbe Pieh (Joseph Cinque) played a courageous role. The memorial is a reminder of the triumph over oppression and the victory of justice and brotherhood of the Amistad story.

A page of  John Quincy Adams' draft of a brief delivered before the U.S. Supreme Court
 

After the Amistad was seized, the schooner, its cargo, and all on board were taken to New London, CT. Had it not been for the actions of abolitionists in the United States, the issues related to the Amistad might have ended quietly in an admiralty court. But they used the incident as a way to expose the evils of slavery and generate significant opposition to the practice. Abolitionists asked Roger S. Baldwin, a lawyer from New Haven, and two New York attorneys, Seth Staples and Theodore Sedgewick, to serve as proctors for, or represent, the Africans. The answer to the libels of Lt. Gedney, et. al. and Pedro Montes and Jose Ruiz that the proctors submitted to the district court conveyed the position of the Africans.

Senior Justice Joseph Story wrote and read the decision of the Supreme Court. The Court ruled that the Africans on board the Amistad were free individuals. Kidnapped and transported illegally, they had never been slaves.

Although Justice Story had written earlier that ". . . it was the ultimate right of all human beings in extreme cases to resist oppression, and to apply force against ruinous injustice," the opinion in this case more narrowly asserted the Africans right to resist "unlawful" slavery.

The Court ordered the immediate release of the Amistad Africans.

March 9, 1841

Kali was one of the four Mende children, and the only little boy, among the Amistad captives. He had been kidnapped from the streets of his own village, taken to the slave-trading base at Lomboko, and then sent across the Atlantic to Havana, Cuba. Later, aboard the Amistad, ten-year-old Kali was of some help to Sengbe Pieh. He sat with the three little girls and kept them quiet while Sengbe and the others, armed and unshackled, waited for their opportunity to climb up to the deck and surprise their captors. In the United States, little Kali, at his young and adaptable age, was able to learn to speak and read English much faster than the Amistad adults. In 1840, while awaiting the final decision of the United States Supreme Court on the issue of his freedom, young Kali wrote this thoughtful letter to former President John Quincy Adams, his lawyer. Kali's feelings come through clearly -- he is angry at his arrest and imprisonment; thankful to those who, like Mr. Adams, have helped him and his fellow captives; and deeply homesick.

When the Amistad captives gained their freedom and went on a speaking tour to raise money for their return passage to Sierra Leone, Kali was a star performer. He impressed audiences with his ability, after less than two years of instruction, to write correctly any sentence read to him from the Christian gospels. Kali returned with the others to Sierra Leone in 1842. He stayed with the American missionaries and was ultimately employed by the Mendi Mission. Kali married, but, while still young, contracted a disease that crippled him for the remaining years of his life.

Dear Friend Mr. Adams:

I want to write a letter to you because you love Mendi people, and you talk to the grand court. We want to tell you one thing. Jose Ruiz say we born in Havana, he tell lie....We all born in Mendi....

We want you to ask the Court what we have done wrong. What for Americans keep us in prison? Some people say Mendi people crazy; Mendi people dolt; because we no talk American language. Merica people no talk Mendi language; Merica people dolt?

They tell bad things about Mendi people, and we no understand. Some men say Mendi people very happy because they laugh and have plenty to eat. Mr. Pendleton come, and Mendi people all look sorry because they think about Mendi land and friends we no see now. Mr. Pendleton say Mendi people angry; white men afraid of Mendi people. The Mendi people no look sorry again--that why we laugh. But Mendi people feel sorry; O, we can't tell how sorry. Some people say Mendi people no got souls. Why we feel bad, [if] we no got souls...?

Dear friend Mr. Adams, you have children, you have friends, you love them, you feel sorry if Mendi people come and carry them all to Africa. We feel bad for our friends, and our friends all feel bad for us...If American people give us free we glad, if they no give us free we sorry -- we sorry for Mendi people little, we sorry for American people great deal, because God punish liars. We want you to tell court that Mendi people no want to go back to Havana, we no want to be killed. Dear Friend, we want you to know how we feel. Mendi people think, think, think. Nobody know what we think, the teacher he know, we tell him some. Mendi people have got souls....All we want is make us free.

Photo:

This 70-year old man, back in West Africa, was, in 1839, an eight-year-old named Kali, the only boy among the Amistad captives. With the fly-paper linguistic ability of a child, he quickly learned English and wrote a passionate letter to former president John Quincy Adams, while the final decision on the issue of freedom was pending at the U.S. Supreme Court. "Dear friend Mr. Adams, you have children, you have friends, you love them, you feel very sorry if Mende people come and take your children to Africa.".....