FARMINGTON, CONN. — FARMINGTON, Conn. -- If this were a sequel to the movie "Amistad," an appropriate subtitle would be "The Untold Story."
Beyond this pastoral valley town of 22,000, just 10 minutes west of Hartford, it is not well known that the Amistad Africans made their home here. However, this is where you can walk in their footsteps, and imagine how they savored their hard-won freedom.
The U.S. Supreme Court upheld the freedom of the illegally enslaved West Africans on March 9, 1841. They had spent more than 18 months in jail in New Haven. But they didn't have money for the voyage home.
By train and then sleigh, the survivors moved here, to a town of about 2,000 then, and a stronghold of the abolitionists who had backed their court battle.
They stayed eight months.
Today, guided tours of the well-preserved town provide glimpses of the Africans' final sojourn in Connecticut. Original houses still stand, including those where the leader Cinque lived.
The Farmington Room of the town library is a treasure-trove. The townspeople's diaries and the Africans' correspondence give us a feel for the time.
"They have not learned the contempt others have for them," John Pitkin Norton wrote in his diary on March 18, 1841, after meeting the Africans at the train station in Berlin, Conn.
"They talked to each other in their own language, laughed and joked a lot people will in a few days probably learn that these thirty Africans are not about to murder every inhabitant."
Farmington was a village of well-heeled merchants. Anti-slavery agitators and slave owners, they lived side by side, says tour guide Ernest R. Shaw. The town had 116 black residents.
Groups with opposing views on slavery held meetings in the union hall next to the church (now the Farmington Art Guild, a block away). In that same hall, women mended clothes for their new African neighbors.
The abolitionists hid fugitive slaves on their property, in barns, chimney foundations, attics and crawl spaces. Their houses still line Main Street, around the campus of Miss Porter's School, a private girl's academy attended by the future Jacqueline Kennedy that is Farmington's best-known institution.
Sarah Porter's father was the community's Congregational pastor. The Rev. Noah Porter welcomed the Africans to weekly worship services in the First Church of Christ, Congregational meeting hall, a quintessential white, steepled church at 75 Main St.
Porter and his wife took in 12-year-old Margru, one of the three Mende girls in the Amistad group. They lived at 116 Main St. The two other girls moved in with church families just down the street. The girls learned to sew, cook and garden; their formal education in English and Christianity continued as well.
"Rev. Porter was not extremely outspoken about abolition -- in fact he was chided by other abolitionists for not speaking out more strongly," says the current pastor, the Rev. Ned Edwards Jr.
By his deeds, however, Porter upset many church members. In 1841 church records, Edwards found a peak in the number of "letters of secession" -- departures.
Meanwhile, the African men and Kali, the 12-year-old boy, went to school by day and slept at night on the cramped upper floor of Samuel Deming's general store.
The building has been moved from its original lot on Main Street (now the fire department's parking lot).
Today at 2 Mill St., it is Your Village Store. Tina DiCaprio muses about the possibility of ghosts in the apartments upstairs as she assembles grinders -- Connecticut's version of sub sandwiches. "We're proud of the history here," she says.
Eventually, merchant Austin Williams bought land at 127 Main St. for a dormitory-style house for the Mende men. That's the black and white storage building to the left, up the driveway.
Only Cinque had a private room; his window is visible at the upper front corner.
Compared to jail, it was freedom. But liberty had limits.
"They did not have what you would call freedom, because at that time there wasn't a free and open society for blacks," said Amy Trout, curator of the Amistad exhibit at the New Haven Colony Historical Society. "It's hard for us to judge what their social world may have been. So much of what we have to go on is legend instead of documented fact."
Certainly they could not wander away from their protective village. The abolitionists reasonably feared reprisals. They also hoped the Africans would stick around and lecture on the anti-slavery circuit: They were polished and intelligent, and living proof that ending slavery was a worthy goal.
Residents believe the Africans embraced the town. They farmed 10 donated acres of meadow to raise money. They swam in a nearby canal basin and romped on the lawns of their wealthy hosts. They also buried one of their own in the town. On Aug. 7, 1841, 19-year-old Foone drowned while swimming in the canal, just down the hill behind Main Street.
His grave is marked in the Riverside Cemetery, a popular pilgrimage today for tourists from Sierra Leone, says Peg Yung, from the town's historical society. His death may have persuaded the abolitionists to work harder to find funding for the Africans' voyage.
That October, Cinque wrote a letter to his supporters: "We want to go home very much, very soon. We want to see no more snow. Cold catch us all the time."
Black and white churches from New Haven to Hartford, abolitionists across the country and friends of the Africans collected the money to charter a ship.
They would leave from New York on Nov. 27, 1841.
But first, a farewell ceremony filled the Congregational church in Farmington.
People stood four and five deep outside, says pastor Edwards. About $1,400 was donated -- a sum better than three times the pastor's annual salary of $400.
Cinque addressed the crowd in his Mende language. The girls read from the Bible. Then everyone sang a missionary hymn -- a favorite that the Africans had learned to perform at various fund-raisers.
Edward Clark, the current choirmaster, recently looked up the lyrics for a visitor. He found them in a worn and dog-eared 1842 church hymnal. Rev. Porter's name is penciled inside.
The Africans sang:
"From Greenland's icy mountains, From India's coral strand,
Where Afric's sunny fountains Roll down their golden sand,
From many an ancient river, From many a palmy plain
They call us to deliver
Their land from error's chain."
Pub Date: 3/01/98