The decision was announced early in the following week. It declared that the ship’s papers of the Amistad were only prima facie evidence that the negroes were slaves, and had been amply overborne by testimony to the contrary. It also held that the Spanish treaty did not affect citizens of other governments, nor prevent kidnapped Africans from asserting and defending their liberty in any court. They were not, it was held, within the meaning of the statute of 1819, as to transporting negroes illegally brought here back to Africa, and must therefore “be declared free, and be dismissed from the custody of the court, and go without day.”
A brief note, written from the Court room to Mr. Baldwin, on Friday noon, March 9th, announced 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,” and was signed:
Yours in great haste and great joy.J. Q. Adams.
Three years now were still to elapse before the first telegraph line was established, and the New York newspapers outran the mails, bringing the glad news to New Haven on March 11th.
The negroes had by this time, on account of the demolition of the old jail, been taken to more roomy quarters in Westville, and the Marshal without waiting for the official mandate, drove out immediately to tell them of the result. “The big Court,” he said, “say you all are free: no slaves. Here it is in this paper—read it.” Cinquè replied for the rest, “Me glad; me thank the American men,” and told Ka-le to read it out aloud, but still looked as if he were in rather a doubting mind, saying “Paper lie sometimes.”
Very soon, however, all misgivings were dispelled by the arrival of Mr. Ludlow and another faithful friend, Amos Townsend, and they all knelt down together to thank God for their final deliverance.
Freedom had come, but it was a barren gift. They were separated from their homes by the distance of half the globe, and in a State where they might be pitied, but were certainly not wanted. Two of the party had died in our jail. The Amistad, in which they had sailed to our shores, as masters, had been taken from them and sold with her cargo, pending the appeal, for the benefit of her original owners, and to pay the salvage claims. “Tell the American people,” one of them said, “that we very, very, very much want to go home.”
Mr. Baldwin wrote to Mr. Adams in regard to the uncertainties of their future, and the following was his reply.