Rawhide (1959–1965): Season 5, Episode 20 - Incident of the Gallows Tree - full transcript
Quince wakes up in the livery stable drunk after a night on the town with some of the drovers. After he leaves, the body of the leading citizen is found behind the stable door shot. Quince is arrested the next day but remembers nothing.
♪ Rollin', rollin', rollin' ♪
- Hyah!
-♪ Rollin', rollin', rollin' ♪
♪ Keep movin', movin', movin' ♪
♪ Though they're disapprovin' ♪
♪ Keep them dogies movin' ♪
♪ Rawhide! ♪
♪ Don't try to understand them ♪
♪ Just rope and throw
and brand 'em ♪
♪ Soon we'll be livin'
high and wide ♪
♪ My heart's calculatin' ♪
♪ My true love will be waitin' ♪
♪ Be waiting at the end
of my ride ♪
♪ Move 'em on, head 'em up,
head 'em up, move 'em on ♪
♪ Move 'em on,
head 'em up, Rawhide! ♪
-(whip cracks)
-♪ Cut 'em out, ride 'em in ♪
♪ Ride 'em in, let 'em out,
cut 'em out, ride 'em in ♪
-♪ Rawhide...! ♪
-♪ Rollin', rollin', rollin' ♪
♪ Rollin', rollin', rollin' ♪
- Hyah!
-♪ Rollin', rollin', rollin'. ♪
(whip cracks twice)
-(music playing)
- Come here, Frank.
Form a circle.
(cheering)
Yeah, get him!
Maybe if I close my eyes,
this whole thing will go away.
Well, Rowdy, now, I thought you
dearly loved a good hoedown.
Yeah, with people,
but not a herd of buffalo.
Oh.
Come on, Mushy!
Come on, Rowdy!
(indistinct yelling)
Go on, Rowdy, get in there.
(yelling continues)
Get down from there.
Get down from there.
That's plenty of music for now.
There's gonna be lots
of it later,
but right now,
we got something more important.
Hey, Mushy!
I guess my dancing's
pretty rusty, Mr. Wishbone.
Well, you dance yourself
right into that supply wagon
and get that surprise I made.
Uh, yes, sir.
Surprise?
Exhales) The thing I made
this morning, you idiot.
Now, come on and bring
some boxes down here.
- We'll make a table.
- What surprise, Wish?
- It's too soon for Christmas.
- Is it for all of us?
- No, it's not for all of us.
It's for Mr. Rowdy Ramrod Yates.
Me?
Yeah, that's right.
According to Wishbone's book,
it's your birthday, boy.
Yes, sir, I'm the cook
and the nursemaid
and the county courthouse
around here.
All right, everybody,
let her rip.
ALL:
♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪
♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪
♪ For he's a jolly
good fello-o-o-ow ♪
♪ Which nobody can deny ♪
ALL:
Speech, speech.
Well, I, this is, uh...
Don't know what to say
except, I guess,
if it wasn't for Wishbone,
we'd all forget
we were ever born.
I figure he deserves
the first piece.
(horses approaching)
Sorry to interrupt
your festivities.
Anything I can do
for you, mister?
Not something, someone.
We have business
with one of your men,
and it's private business.
Well, it's been
a long time, Cabot.
Bellamy.
Oh, not too long.
Long enough to finish
what's between us.
(exhales)
There's nothing to settle.
Nothing to begin with.
We think there was.
You might as well face it,
we spent a lot of time
tracking you down.
We won't leave
till it's settled.
So, take your choice, Yates.
Settle now
or get used to the idea
of living with ghosts
you can't bury.
Hey Soos, get my horse,
will you?
If you say so, Senor.
Mr. Rowdy, your cake.
Oh, forget it, Mushy.
What's this all about?
It's an old problem.
My business.
It don't have to be.
Just say the word.
This is one of those things
I got to do alone.
Well, if you do need any help,
you know where we are.
(horse approaching)
Like I said, gentlemen,
forgive me
for interrupting your party.
Let's go.
You think we ought
to send somebody after him?
Well, whatever it is, the man
says he wants to go it alone.
You ride all night for this?
There's others
gonna meet us here.
Thought about this a long time,
haven't you, Cabot?
Six years, Yates.
Six long years.
Inside.
♪♪
There's no way out, Yates.
Not up there.
Not down here.
Thought you wanted
the truth, Cabot.
Truth is the trial of itself.
Yeah, well, the .44 is the judge
and jury, huh?
Won't get any answers
out of a dead man
or the ghosts of a dead town
for that matter.
- Answers, Yates?
- Yeah.
There's only one answer.
You're looking at it.
(door opening)
Who are you?
I might ask you
the same question, sir.
You gentlemen are trespassing.
In a ghost town?
Here most of all, sir.
With such infinite privacy,
the slightest transgression
is greatly attenuated.
You still haven't answered
my question.
Who are you?
Alexander Langford, sir.
At your service.
Behold, gentlemen,
my world,
my town,
my home.
(chuckles)
And probably very soon,
my grave.
I was a judge, sir.
And before that, a lawyer.
This...
is where I defended my clients.
And sat in judgment.
These clients of yours,
Mr. Langford,
where are they?
Gone, my friend.
Scattered like leaves
in a windstorm.
Something to do
with mine failure,
as I recall.
But you came back.
Life's but a summer, sir.
Man little more than a flower,
he dies.
How soon he dies.
For me, better here,
where I know what I am.
So you see, sir,
ghosts and I
have much in common.
Then you're
just the man we need.
Yates, you said
you wanted a trial, you got it.
We've even got ourselves
a judge.
You misunderstood, sir.
I no longer have the authority
to hear cases.
Or the desire.
In a dead town,
I'm afraid that authority
is only a word.
And as for desire,
I'm certain that we can
find a way to change your mind.
(gasps)
Don't!
I knew you'd change your mind,
Judge.
Now, you just get back up
on that bench,
and make yourself comfortable.
It won't be long.
The others should be along
any time now.
(groans)
Aah.
Ooh.
Sure don't look like much
of a judge, does he?
Make any difference?
Your friends,
they're not here yet?
I'll tell you when, Your Honor.
I don't think
I've had the honor, sir.
Name's Yates.
Rowdy Yates.
I don't suppose you're
interested in why I'm here.
You don't suppose correctly,
sir.
Your name is all I'll need.
Unmarked graves
always did disturb me.
(horses approaching)
Is he here?
Inside.
Then we'll need this.
Well, how are you, Cal?
(raspy groaning)
No, it's all right.
You look fine, Cal.
Mason.
He remembers you, Cal.
That man...
What's wrong with that man?
Same thing that's the matter
with Cabot.
Only, with him, you can see it.
Well, now that we're all here,
there ain't no point
in waiting around.
Ain't that right, Yates?
No, not yet.
We're still one short.
Anyway, we're gonna
have a trial.
We have ourselves a real
bona fide judge over there,
the best that whiskey can buy.
Just the kind of man to see
that we don't break any laws.
After all,
we couldn't have Yates here
saying that his judgment day
was illegal, could we?
No, we couldn't have that.
Gentlemen, please,
you'd better proceed without me.
Y-You see, I have no robes.
We don't stand
on ceremony, Judge.
You just get back
to your little bench.
Uh, but my robes...
Now!
Well, Judge?
(bangs bottle on table)
This court is now in session.
And I must remind you
that certain formalities
must be observed.
Save the speeches, Langford.
Let's get this done.
As long as
I'm acting judge here, sir,
I must insist
on due process of law.
You're absolutely right, Judge.
Due process of law.
That's the way we want it,
isn't it?
Very well.
You may proceed.
The court-martial of
Private Rowdy Yates,
Confederate States of America,
is now in session.
Court-martial?
But the Confederacy
ceased to exist six years ago.
You have no authority, sir.
Like I said, Judge...
in a dead town,
authority is just a word.
On the board
of the court-martial:
Corporal Leslie Bellamy, CSA;
Private Samuel Jordan, CSA;
Corporal Cal Mason, CSA;
Captain Francis Cabot, CSA.
The prisoner will come forward
and hear the charges.
General charge: on or about
August 15 in the year 1864,
in the Union prisoner of war
camp at Yuma,
Private Yates did perform
an act of treason
against the army
of the Confederacy.
Specific charge number one:
Private Yates did
willfully betray
to the Union camp commander
an escape plan.
Number two: that Private Yates'
betrayal resulted in the death
of two men,
Privates Quintle and Burke.
Number three:
the Private Yates betrayal
resulted in the paralysis
of Corporal Cal Mason.
Well, Judge?
Guilty or not guilty?
Not guilty.
(laughter, bottle banging)
There will be order
in this court, if you please.
As you say, Judge.
We can't have anyone held
in contempt, now, can we?
With your permission, the
prosecution will begin the case.
You may proceed.
The first witness will be
Private Samuel Jordan.
Exhibit A.
What's that for?
The beginning, Judge.
It all started with this,
the deadline.
That's where we first met Yates.
We'd all been captured--
all of us, the captain,
the whole third platoon.
Then they marched us
to this muck hole
they called a prison camp.
5,000 men jammed in
a stockade so tight
you couldn't even squat.
It was about as high
as that wall.
And every 50 feet, there was a
guard with a rifle pointed down.
And on the ground about ten feet
in front of the wall
was this-this line.
In between the stockade poles,
there were gaps.
We were all walking toward them.
'Cause we wanted to look out.
Grass and trees.
Anything green
and growing and alive...
(gunfire)
Yates comes in on us,
pushing us back.
That's what a deadline is.
You cross it, and you're dead.
That's right,
and you would've been dead, too,
all of you,
if I hadn't stepped in.
Right behind him
comes Major Holbrooke.
You and Holbrooke--
always at the same time
and the same place.
Holbrooke?
The camp commander.
We called him
The Butcher from Boston.
(Irish accent):
Yeah, you men are lucky.
You men have to learn
the hard way.
Oh, I can cross this line
because my uniform is blue.
But you're not confined
to any one area.
You are free to roam at will.
Square yard apiece to walk in.
And if you are injured,
you will be given
hospital care.
(normal voice):
Where you will promptly die.
Now, when you first met
Private Yates,
he saved your lives.
Your Honor...
must be mighty thirsty work
asking all those questions.
Yes, Captain.
Mighty thirsty.
That's right, Cabot,
don't let him ask
any of the wrong questions.
You wanted a trial,
you're getting it.
Did you hear that, Judge?
He said this is a trial.
Yates, don't push too hard.
Bellamy, you're forgetting,
due process of law.
Now, let him talk.
Yeah, let him talk,
but just don't listen.
Don't interfere
with their thinking.
Mr. Yates, you must try
to understand,
I cannot influence
my own thinking,
much less another man's.
Look, Langford,
I ain't one of your ghosts.
You stick me, and I bleed.
Now, you didn't have to be
a part of this thing,
but as long as you gone along
and you're behind that bench,
it's got to mean
something to you.
Yates is right, Your Honor,
this is a trial.
Look, you brought him
into this thing, Cabot.
Now let him decide
what the truth is, will you?
Fine, we'll let him decide.
I'm just not one to see
a man suffer, that's all.
Go on, Judge, put out the fire.
Private Jordan,
you may continue.
After that first day, Private
Yates showed us the ropes.
He taught us how to live
in that stinking camp.
And then we started
talking about escape.
The first plan was his idea.
The first plan?
Yeah, there-there were
two attempts to escape.
What was the first?
The coffin route.
Coffin route?
You want to tell it, Captain?
No.
No, Jordan,
that's Mason's story.
There you are.
It's your turn now, Cal.
Now, listen to me.
You nod when I say things right,
and shake your head
when I don't.
You got that?
These are my men-- all of them.
They weren't gonna rot
like the rest of them,
not while I was their captain.
The others were dying
like flies.
The blue jacks had us
cart them off in wheelbarrows,
box them up and dump them
in these long graves.
Now, when things
were at their worst,
that's when Yates got his idea.
It was our plan, all of us.
You're not on the witness stand
yet, Mr. Yates.
It's all right, Judge.
Let him tell the story his way.
All right.
The, uh,
Holbrooke, he had me
on this detail
of building these coffins
out of pine,
sort of like these.
Well, there was
about 20 deaths a day
in that prison, sometimes more
and sometimes less.
When there was less,
there would be coffins
left over.
Mm-hmm. The empty coffins,
they were the way out.
CABOT:
Yates thought so.
He wanted us to climb
into the empty boxes,
get hauled out and get buried.
He said you could split the top
of the coffin with your fist.
The grave was shallow;
all you had to do was climb out.
I was willing to be buried alive
to try it out.
All of us were.
You had to have it your own way.
It was my decision to make.
Yeah, so you sent along Mason
alone to test it.
If we'd all gone,
we'd all be dead.
Gentlemen, please.
This is still a court of law.
I implore you,
we must have order.
Who are you to implore anything?
Bellamy, now.
My apologies, Judge.
Oh, he's right.
We agreed that one should go.
We agreed it was for the best.
You understood that,
now, didn't you, Cal?
Come on now.
Up.
Exhibit B.
Captain, do you have to do that?
(grunting)
No, Cal, trust me now.
Trust me?
I said that to him then.
"Cal, trust me.
You'll be free and well.”
Anyway, we hammered him in.
The work detail came.
Yates had the coffins
stacked up on the grave carts.
And then they took them out.
What happened was an accident.
Oh, was it, Yates?
The horses took him out.
Now, when he came back,
three men were carrying him,
and he was like he is right now,
half paralyzed,
unable to speak.
What happened?
Well, it was dark
and the horses were skittish.
One of them shied,
and the coffins fell
off the wagon.
The wagon ran over
two of the coffins.
Mason was in one of them.
You wanted him caught.
You were afraid he'd get away
and you wouldn't.
You did that!
CABOT:
Bellamy.
Captain, we can't
leave him in there.
All right, get him out.
The coffin served its purpose.
Right, Judge?
The paths of glory
lead but to the grave.
No coffin has served
its purpose, Captain.
Not until its four walls
quiet the troubling
of the wicked
and deaden the din of the weary.
♪♪
As Robert Burns was won't to say,
there's courage
in Mr. Barleycorn.
Well, what I need right now
doesn't come in a bottle.
Mm.
What's holding them up?
A witness named Quintle.
Quintle?
Quintle's dead.
Look... look, Langford, uh...
I guess you know you're the only
one who can help me out.
Help you?
Heh. There is no Heaven.
There is no Hell.
These be the dreams
of baby minds.
This is my hell, Mr. Yates,
and my master.
I cannot even help myself.
Then what are you doing here?
Mm... curiosity.
Probably compassion.
Compassion, huh?
Well, for me or for you?
Conscience, Mr. Yates,
is God's presence in man.
That luxury I lost long ago,
thanks to this.
I was a lion among men.
A tiger on the high wire
of justice.
I would've fought for you then,
but not now.
No. This is the end of a...
long road for me.
I didn't sell those men out.
They never taste
who always drink.
They always talk
who never think.
So said Brutus.
And so said Judas.
Langford, I'm not guilty.
Yeah, words, my dear sir.
Words. I no longer hear them.
I no longer believe them.
I was a boy.
And then... a lawyer.
And it seemed there was
no time in between.
Finally, I became a judge.
The youngest in three states
and two territories.
Then one day,
they brought in
this young cowboy.
He was accused of killing a man
for the man's wife.
But the evidence was...
circumstantial.
The jury argued it out
for two days,
and then it was up to me
to decide for them,
one way or the other.
I looked into that boy's soul
and I saw innocence.
So I told them,
and they let him go.
Three days later...
he killed the woman, too.
Ah!
From that day on,
the law ceased to exist for me.
I cut it out,
and dissolved it in alcohol.
Well, the man who refuses
to remember the past
is sometimes condemned
to repeat it.
You want me to help you?
Where do you think
I'd find that much courage?
Where it used to be.
Still is, maybe.
I said I would play a part.
A clown.
The buffoon.
A play-actor
on a stage of sand.
That's how it has to be.
It's not enough, Langford.
If you won't cut me free,
then you're gonna
have to judge me.
And you'll have to stand
behind that judgment.
Not behind a bottle.
Why did they have to
bring you here?
Why couldn't it have been
somewhere else?
They didn't bring me here.
I came willingly.
To see this thing ended,
once and for all.
Ended?
"I saw Eternity the other night,
"Like a great ring
of pure and endless light.”
Nothing ends, Mr. Yates.
Except hope.
(approaching hoof beats)
Court-martial is to convene.
Bellamy.
Yes, sir.
Bring in the prisoner.
Jordan...
- Yes, sir.
-...bring the witness.
Well, back inside, Your Honor,
back to your bench,
back to your bottle.
Mrs. Quintle, it's so good
of you to have come.
I had to.
It was my duty, Captain Cabot.
(door opens)
Private Rowdy Yates.
That was from my husband.
All right, Judge.
You may proceed.
Thank you, Your Honor.
Court calls as a witness
Mrs. Agnes Quintle
wife of the deceased
Private Joshua Quintle.
Mrs. Quintle, as I told you
when we talked last month,
we seek our own justice
in our own way,
so you may speak as you will.
And who is he?
Now, he's a judge.
He's agreed to preside for us.
I suppose
that is the proper way.
I don't know you.
Not by your face,
nor the way you speak.
Only by your actions.
And ever since Joshua died
I've kept myself alive
knowing that someday
I would see you...
and I'd watch you die
with that around your neck.
Uh, Mrs. Quintle,
you obviously are aware
of the charges
against the defendant.
Have you anything to add
to the case against him?
Yes.
A letter.
A forged letter...
supposedly from my husband,
but actually written
by Private Yates.
Do you know this letter,
Private Yates?
Yeah, I know of it.
Why does Mrs. Quintle
refer to it as a forgery?
Well, because...
Quintle's hands were injured.
He asked me to write the letter
in his place.
It's all right there.
That proves it was a forgery.
Quintle never hurt his hands.
Uh, Captain Cabot,
uh, this letter
is admitted as evidence,
but I don't understand.
Uh, forgery or otherwise,
what actual bearing
does it have?
Another link in the chain.
Another knot in the noose.
He lied about the letter.
He's lying about the betrayal.
How did Private Quintle die?
After our first
escape attempt failed
we just wrote it off
as bad luck.
Then we began searching
for another plan.
We came up with a tunnel.
Tunnel?
An escape tunnel.
It was to go
from the floor in our shed
across several feet of yard
and then up underneath
the stockade wall.
It took us three months.
Three months to dig that tunnel.
We clawed at that dirt
with whatever we had
at our disposal,
with sticks,
with pieces of iron,
with our hands.
Before we were finished
Yates here
was committed to the infirmary.
When we were ready,
I went to him and told him
we were leaving that night.
And what did Private Yates
have to say?
He couldn't say much
because he was too sick,
but I knew that we couldn't
bring him along with us,
so I told him that we were
gonna leave without him.
Major Holbrook's men
were waiting.
Private Quintle was killed,
Private Burke was killed,
and the rest of us spent
the remainder of the war
in solitary.
In other words, Captain,
you're saying that because
you wouldn't wait
and take Yates with you,
he told Holbrook
what you were planning.
That's the charge.
Now all that's left
is the verdict.
Verdict, sir?
Aren't you rushing things
a little, Captain?
After six years
a man's patience is honed down
as thin as it can get.
Captain, a point of law.
It would not be fitting
to hang the man until
we've heard him speak.
Besides, Mrs. Quintle
has a question.
It should be answered.
The bench calls the defendant,
Private Yates.
Now tell us what happened,
Private Yates.
The way you saw it.
Captain, do we have to
listen to all this?
It's his right.
I would like to hear
what he has to say.
All right, Mrs. Quintle.
By all means, Yates, speak up.
Just don't keep us too long.
It's all I can do for you.
Um...
Well, you see, this tunnel
he's talking about
was cool and it was damp,
and we always had to worry
about, uh,
thing caving in.
I got this fever first,
and so Cabot had Quintle
take me to the infirmary.
And that's...
where Quintle
met Ruth Cogan.
JUDGE:
Ruth Cogan?
This name hasn't been
mentioned before.
Well, I'm sorry it has to be
mentioned at all.
Well, go on.
Well...
I'd like to ask Cabot
a question.
When was it that you
and the others
tried to make your escape?
Mid October.
Take a look at the date
on that letter, Judge.
October the eighteenth.
Every letter that went out
of that prison camp
had to go through Holbrook,
and that took
at least two weeks.
I mailed that letter
on the first part of October.
That was two weeks before
Quintle was killed.
Two weeks before Cabot told me
that he was gonna
have to leave without me.
Well, go on, Mr. Yates.
Bellamy,
who was it that was always
visiting me up there
at the infirmary?
Keeping me informed on
what was going on?
Quintle.
I don't see where this is
leading us, Mr. Yates.
Well, maybe to the truth
about a nurse named Cogan
who was friendly to all of us,
maybe a little too friendly.
You're reaching, Yates.
A nurse who never existed,
a rainbow on a rainy night.
It won't work.
I'm not reaching, Cabot.
She existed all right,
especially for Quintle.
It's simple enough.
He thought he was in love
with her.
No, that's not true!
He-He didn't love her!
She was just a friend!
Oh... then this Ruth Cogan
did exist.
Well, it was in
his first letter.
Joshua talked about visiting
the infirmary,
and he said he met this woman.
And he said that she reminded
him of me.
And she was kind to him.
She was just a friend.
Quintle had a strong back,
but inside he was scared
and lonely.
He reached out for this woman,
and she let him.
He hung on. That was all there
was to hang onto.
No, Joshua loved me!
Yeah, but you weren't there,
and he needed someone.
Joshua wrote you a letter
telling you all about
he and the girl, but I begged
him not to send it,
telling him that as soon as he
got out of here,
everything would be the same
as it always was.
He wouldn't listen to me.
But I never got such a letter.
Right, 'cause I burned it.
I sent that one in its place
so you'd never have to know.
Joshua always was like
a little boy.
He was afraid of being alone.
He should have known
that I would,
I would have understood.
I would have forgiven him.
All right, so Quintle
may have made a mistake,
but it has nothing to do with
Yates' guilt.
Maybe it does, Cabot.
A man like Quintle,
desperate and lonely,
suppose he tells the Cogan
woman about the escape plan?
Suppose he tells her to meet
him later on, huh?
We're not supposing here, Yates.
We're looking for facts.
Jordan, Bellamy, think back
on that night.
What was Quintle acting like?
What was he saying, huh?
Well...
Come on, Bellamy, spit it out!
The Captain wants to hear it.
Don't you, Captain?
There was one thing.
Crawling through the tunnel,
Quintle kept muttering something
about a light.
It was after we had
crawled through
the last of the dirt
and the brush.
Quintle sort of half laughed
and said,
"She'll be waiting.”
Something like that.
Then all I remember
are the shots.
That still doesn't prove
anything.
You said that Joshua wrote you
a letter
when he first met
the Cogan woman
telling you about how she
reminded him of you.
Kind to him.
Don't you think maybe in his
mind she was you?
"My dear Agnes,
"I'm glad to know
that things are good
"and that your mother is well.
"You don't know how much
I miss you.
I love you more every day
I don't see you."
Your handwriting, Mr. Yates,
and your words
written for a woman
you never saw.
Captain Cabot, you spoke
of the verdict.
You spoke of hanging
the accused.
But your evidence,
it's not enough.
To my mind, there is doubt,
considerable doubt.
It could have been as
the accused suggested.
The verdict is still the same,
Your Honor.
Now why don't you just retire
to your chambers
and have yourself a nice
little drink
while we settle
this thing ourselves?
Oh, no, Captain, not until we've
heard the last witness.
The last witness?
Captain Francis Cabot.
Well, now, you're just borrowing
time, Judge.
And you're running out
of credit.
Primus in orbe...
deos fecit timor.
The voice of a dead language,
Captain,
spoken in a dead town.
"It was fear that first made
gods in the world.”
What have you to fear?
A man keeps a hate through him
for all these years.
He builds it up and shapes it
into a crusade.
Why?
There wasn't enough,
not for the trial.
Not from the testimony
I've heard.
Nothing but a terrible war
and the terrible deaths
of friends.
Or were they friends?
They were more than friends.
They were my men.
My responsibility.
And what are they now, Captain?
Are these people still
your responsibility?
I am still their officer,
if that's what you mean.
"He smelleth the battle
afar off.
The thunder of the captains,
and the shouting."”
This war is only the ashes
of dead memories
to most men,
but Captain Cabot
is still your officer.
Tell me...
do you still salute?
Do you still follow blindly?
Without question or morality?
(slams the table)
This has gone far enough.
What's the matter, Captain,
you afraid to take a good look
at yourself?
The Confederacy was destroyed.
You are an officer with no army,
but you've kept your war alive
by creating an enemy,
Private Yates.
Through him,
and your own mantle of hatred,
you kept your men together.
A platoon to lead.
A platoon to destroy.
They needed me.
Now you look at them.
They couldn't have
survived without me.
Look at Mason.
Where do you think
he'd be without me?
And Bellamy, and Jordan...
I think for all of them.
Just as you did when you
wore a captain's gold and grey.
No war, but you're
still their officer.
And they still need me.
You're wrong, Cabot,
you need them.
You need 'em so bad
you're willing to hang an
innocent man just to keep 'em.
One question, Captain Cabot,
who comes after Yates?
Who's next?
How long will you let him
feed his hatred into you?
Eat into your minds
until it destroys you
like it has him,
how long?
(shrieks)
Words, men.
It's just the babblings
of a drunken old man
who hasn't got the courage
to face himself...
much less life.
Now, I say that we've listened
long enough,
and it's time to carry out
what we came here to do.
Myself, I've enjoyed
our little trial.
It showed Yates up
for what he really is.
Corporal Bellamy,
Private Jordan,
you'll carry out the sentence.
Captain,
this is a court-martial,
remember?
The prisoner is entitled
to hear the verdict
before sentence
is carried out.
You, Jordan.
Bellamy.
Mrs. Quintle.
Oh, yes.
Hate...
it's hard to give up,
isn't it?
But you'll get something
in return.
And you, you'll get
your freedom from him.
The verdict,
your verdict...
Fools. Cowards.
You'd let Yates go
after what he did to you?
Very well.
I'll carry out
the sentence myself.
On whom, Captain?
On whom will you
pass sentence?
Langford, stay out of this.
Oh, no, Mr. Yates,
this is our judgment day now,
not yours.
The accused has been found
not guilty.
So that leaves me
doesn't it, Captain?
Langford.
He said a trial, justice,
truth.
Let's see if he can stare it
in the face.
Your gun, Captain.
Your war is over.
(cocks the hammer)
(gunshot)
(gunshot)
First a boy,
then a lawyer,
then a judge,
and finally...
a man?
A man.
(groans)
I'm so sorry.
"Battle afar off...
the thunder of the captains.”
MAN:
Hyah!
(cows mooing)
- Hello there.
- Howdy.
Long night?
The longest of my life.
That, uh, business in town,
you get it straightened out?
Oh, yeah, all straightened away.
Any trouble?
(sighs)
Well, I'm back.
Head 'em up!
Move 'em out!
♪ Rollin', rollin', rollin' ♪
♪ Keep movin', movin', movin' ♪
♪ Though they're disapprovin' ♪
♪ Keep them dogies movin' ♪
♪ Rawhide! ♪
♪ Rawhide...! ♪
Hyah!
(whip cracks twice)
- Hyah!
-♪ Rollin', rollin', rollin' ♪
♪ Keep movin', movin', movin' ♪
♪ Though they're disapprovin' ♪
♪ Keep them dogies movin' ♪
♪ Rawhide! ♪
♪ Don't try to understand them ♪
♪ Just rope and throw
and brand 'em ♪
♪ Soon we'll be livin'
high and wide ♪
♪ My heart's calculatin' ♪
♪ My true love will be waitin' ♪
♪ Be waiting at the end
of my ride ♪
♪ Move 'em on, head 'em up,
head 'em up, move 'em on ♪
♪ Move 'em on,
head 'em up, Rawhide! ♪
-(whip cracks)
-♪ Cut 'em out, ride 'em in ♪
♪ Ride 'em in, let 'em out,
cut 'em out, ride 'em in ♪
-♪ Rawhide...! ♪
-♪ Rollin', rollin', rollin' ♪
♪ Rollin', rollin', rollin' ♪
- Hyah!
-♪ Rollin', rollin', rollin'. ♪
(whip cracks twice)
-(music playing)
- Come here, Frank.
Form a circle.
(cheering)
Yeah, get him!
Maybe if I close my eyes,
this whole thing will go away.
Well, Rowdy, now, I thought you
dearly loved a good hoedown.
Yeah, with people,
but not a herd of buffalo.
Oh.
Come on, Mushy!
Come on, Rowdy!
(indistinct yelling)
Go on, Rowdy, get in there.
(yelling continues)
Get down from there.
Get down from there.
That's plenty of music for now.
There's gonna be lots
of it later,
but right now,
we got something more important.
Hey, Mushy!
I guess my dancing's
pretty rusty, Mr. Wishbone.
Well, you dance yourself
right into that supply wagon
and get that surprise I made.
Uh, yes, sir.
Surprise?
Exhales) The thing I made
this morning, you idiot.
Now, come on and bring
some boxes down here.
- We'll make a table.
- What surprise, Wish?
- It's too soon for Christmas.
- Is it for all of us?
- No, it's not for all of us.
It's for Mr. Rowdy Ramrod Yates.
Me?
Yeah, that's right.
According to Wishbone's book,
it's your birthday, boy.
Yes, sir, I'm the cook
and the nursemaid
and the county courthouse
around here.
All right, everybody,
let her rip.
ALL:
♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪
♪ For he's a jolly good fellow ♪
♪ For he's a jolly
good fello-o-o-ow ♪
♪ Which nobody can deny ♪
ALL:
Speech, speech.
Well, I, this is, uh...
Don't know what to say
except, I guess,
if it wasn't for Wishbone,
we'd all forget
we were ever born.
I figure he deserves
the first piece.
(horses approaching)
Sorry to interrupt
your festivities.
Anything I can do
for you, mister?
Not something, someone.
We have business
with one of your men,
and it's private business.
Well, it's been
a long time, Cabot.
Bellamy.
Oh, not too long.
Long enough to finish
what's between us.
(exhales)
There's nothing to settle.
Nothing to begin with.
We think there was.
You might as well face it,
we spent a lot of time
tracking you down.
We won't leave
till it's settled.
So, take your choice, Yates.
Settle now
or get used to the idea
of living with ghosts
you can't bury.
Hey Soos, get my horse,
will you?
If you say so, Senor.
Mr. Rowdy, your cake.
Oh, forget it, Mushy.
What's this all about?
It's an old problem.
My business.
It don't have to be.
Just say the word.
This is one of those things
I got to do alone.
Well, if you do need any help,
you know where we are.
(horse approaching)
Like I said, gentlemen,
forgive me
for interrupting your party.
Let's go.
You think we ought
to send somebody after him?
Well, whatever it is, the man
says he wants to go it alone.
You ride all night for this?
There's others
gonna meet us here.
Thought about this a long time,
haven't you, Cabot?
Six years, Yates.
Six long years.
Inside.
♪♪
There's no way out, Yates.
Not up there.
Not down here.
Thought you wanted
the truth, Cabot.
Truth is the trial of itself.
Yeah, well, the .44 is the judge
and jury, huh?
Won't get any answers
out of a dead man
or the ghosts of a dead town
for that matter.
- Answers, Yates?
- Yeah.
There's only one answer.
You're looking at it.
(door opening)
Who are you?
I might ask you
the same question, sir.
You gentlemen are trespassing.
In a ghost town?
Here most of all, sir.
With such infinite privacy,
the slightest transgression
is greatly attenuated.
You still haven't answered
my question.
Who are you?
Alexander Langford, sir.
At your service.
Behold, gentlemen,
my world,
my town,
my home.
(chuckles)
And probably very soon,
my grave.
I was a judge, sir.
And before that, a lawyer.
This...
is where I defended my clients.
And sat in judgment.
These clients of yours,
Mr. Langford,
where are they?
Gone, my friend.
Scattered like leaves
in a windstorm.
Something to do
with mine failure,
as I recall.
But you came back.
Life's but a summer, sir.
Man little more than a flower,
he dies.
How soon he dies.
For me, better here,
where I know what I am.
So you see, sir,
ghosts and I
have much in common.
Then you're
just the man we need.
Yates, you said
you wanted a trial, you got it.
We've even got ourselves
a judge.
You misunderstood, sir.
I no longer have the authority
to hear cases.
Or the desire.
In a dead town,
I'm afraid that authority
is only a word.
And as for desire,
I'm certain that we can
find a way to change your mind.
(gasps)
Don't!
I knew you'd change your mind,
Judge.
Now, you just get back up
on that bench,
and make yourself comfortable.
It won't be long.
The others should be along
any time now.
(groans)
Aah.
Ooh.
Sure don't look like much
of a judge, does he?
Make any difference?
Your friends,
they're not here yet?
I'll tell you when, Your Honor.
I don't think
I've had the honor, sir.
Name's Yates.
Rowdy Yates.
I don't suppose you're
interested in why I'm here.
You don't suppose correctly,
sir.
Your name is all I'll need.
Unmarked graves
always did disturb me.
(horses approaching)
Is he here?
Inside.
Then we'll need this.
Well, how are you, Cal?
(raspy groaning)
No, it's all right.
You look fine, Cal.
Mason.
He remembers you, Cal.
That man...
What's wrong with that man?
Same thing that's the matter
with Cabot.
Only, with him, you can see it.
Well, now that we're all here,
there ain't no point
in waiting around.
Ain't that right, Yates?
No, not yet.
We're still one short.
Anyway, we're gonna
have a trial.
We have ourselves a real
bona fide judge over there,
the best that whiskey can buy.
Just the kind of man to see
that we don't break any laws.
After all,
we couldn't have Yates here
saying that his judgment day
was illegal, could we?
No, we couldn't have that.
Gentlemen, please,
you'd better proceed without me.
Y-You see, I have no robes.
We don't stand
on ceremony, Judge.
You just get back
to your little bench.
Uh, but my robes...
Now!
Well, Judge?
(bangs bottle on table)
This court is now in session.
And I must remind you
that certain formalities
must be observed.
Save the speeches, Langford.
Let's get this done.
As long as
I'm acting judge here, sir,
I must insist
on due process of law.
You're absolutely right, Judge.
Due process of law.
That's the way we want it,
isn't it?
Very well.
You may proceed.
The court-martial of
Private Rowdy Yates,
Confederate States of America,
is now in session.
Court-martial?
But the Confederacy
ceased to exist six years ago.
You have no authority, sir.
Like I said, Judge...
in a dead town,
authority is just a word.
On the board
of the court-martial:
Corporal Leslie Bellamy, CSA;
Private Samuel Jordan, CSA;
Corporal Cal Mason, CSA;
Captain Francis Cabot, CSA.
The prisoner will come forward
and hear the charges.
General charge: on or about
August 15 in the year 1864,
in the Union prisoner of war
camp at Yuma,
Private Yates did perform
an act of treason
against the army
of the Confederacy.
Specific charge number one:
Private Yates did
willfully betray
to the Union camp commander
an escape plan.
Number two: that Private Yates'
betrayal resulted in the death
of two men,
Privates Quintle and Burke.
Number three:
the Private Yates betrayal
resulted in the paralysis
of Corporal Cal Mason.
Well, Judge?
Guilty or not guilty?
Not guilty.
(laughter, bottle banging)
There will be order
in this court, if you please.
As you say, Judge.
We can't have anyone held
in contempt, now, can we?
With your permission, the
prosecution will begin the case.
You may proceed.
The first witness will be
Private Samuel Jordan.
Exhibit A.
What's that for?
The beginning, Judge.
It all started with this,
the deadline.
That's where we first met Yates.
We'd all been captured--
all of us, the captain,
the whole third platoon.
Then they marched us
to this muck hole
they called a prison camp.
5,000 men jammed in
a stockade so tight
you couldn't even squat.
It was about as high
as that wall.
And every 50 feet, there was a
guard with a rifle pointed down.
And on the ground about ten feet
in front of the wall
was this-this line.
In between the stockade poles,
there were gaps.
We were all walking toward them.
'Cause we wanted to look out.
Grass and trees.
Anything green
and growing and alive...
(gunfire)
Yates comes in on us,
pushing us back.
That's what a deadline is.
You cross it, and you're dead.
That's right,
and you would've been dead, too,
all of you,
if I hadn't stepped in.
Right behind him
comes Major Holbrooke.
You and Holbrooke--
always at the same time
and the same place.
Holbrooke?
The camp commander.
We called him
The Butcher from Boston.
(Irish accent):
Yeah, you men are lucky.
You men have to learn
the hard way.
Oh, I can cross this line
because my uniform is blue.
But you're not confined
to any one area.
You are free to roam at will.
Square yard apiece to walk in.
And if you are injured,
you will be given
hospital care.
(normal voice):
Where you will promptly die.
Now, when you first met
Private Yates,
he saved your lives.
Your Honor...
must be mighty thirsty work
asking all those questions.
Yes, Captain.
Mighty thirsty.
That's right, Cabot,
don't let him ask
any of the wrong questions.
You wanted a trial,
you're getting it.
Did you hear that, Judge?
He said this is a trial.
Yates, don't push too hard.
Bellamy, you're forgetting,
due process of law.
Now, let him talk.
Yeah, let him talk,
but just don't listen.
Don't interfere
with their thinking.
Mr. Yates, you must try
to understand,
I cannot influence
my own thinking,
much less another man's.
Look, Langford,
I ain't one of your ghosts.
You stick me, and I bleed.
Now, you didn't have to be
a part of this thing,
but as long as you gone along
and you're behind that bench,
it's got to mean
something to you.
Yates is right, Your Honor,
this is a trial.
Look, you brought him
into this thing, Cabot.
Now let him decide
what the truth is, will you?
Fine, we'll let him decide.
I'm just not one to see
a man suffer, that's all.
Go on, Judge, put out the fire.
Private Jordan,
you may continue.
After that first day, Private
Yates showed us the ropes.
He taught us how to live
in that stinking camp.
And then we started
talking about escape.
The first plan was his idea.
The first plan?
Yeah, there-there were
two attempts to escape.
What was the first?
The coffin route.
Coffin route?
You want to tell it, Captain?
No.
No, Jordan,
that's Mason's story.
There you are.
It's your turn now, Cal.
Now, listen to me.
You nod when I say things right,
and shake your head
when I don't.
You got that?
These are my men-- all of them.
They weren't gonna rot
like the rest of them,
not while I was their captain.
The others were dying
like flies.
The blue jacks had us
cart them off in wheelbarrows,
box them up and dump them
in these long graves.
Now, when things
were at their worst,
that's when Yates got his idea.
It was our plan, all of us.
You're not on the witness stand
yet, Mr. Yates.
It's all right, Judge.
Let him tell the story his way.
All right.
The, uh,
Holbrooke, he had me
on this detail
of building these coffins
out of pine,
sort of like these.
Well, there was
about 20 deaths a day
in that prison, sometimes more
and sometimes less.
When there was less,
there would be coffins
left over.
Mm-hmm. The empty coffins,
they were the way out.
CABOT:
Yates thought so.
He wanted us to climb
into the empty boxes,
get hauled out and get buried.
He said you could split the top
of the coffin with your fist.
The grave was shallow;
all you had to do was climb out.
I was willing to be buried alive
to try it out.
All of us were.
You had to have it your own way.
It was my decision to make.
Yeah, so you sent along Mason
alone to test it.
If we'd all gone,
we'd all be dead.
Gentlemen, please.
This is still a court of law.
I implore you,
we must have order.
Who are you to implore anything?
Bellamy, now.
My apologies, Judge.
Oh, he's right.
We agreed that one should go.
We agreed it was for the best.
You understood that,
now, didn't you, Cal?
Come on now.
Up.
Exhibit B.
Captain, do you have to do that?
(grunting)
No, Cal, trust me now.
Trust me?
I said that to him then.
"Cal, trust me.
You'll be free and well.”
Anyway, we hammered him in.
The work detail came.
Yates had the coffins
stacked up on the grave carts.
And then they took them out.
What happened was an accident.
Oh, was it, Yates?
The horses took him out.
Now, when he came back,
three men were carrying him,
and he was like he is right now,
half paralyzed,
unable to speak.
What happened?
Well, it was dark
and the horses were skittish.
One of them shied,
and the coffins fell
off the wagon.
The wagon ran over
two of the coffins.
Mason was in one of them.
You wanted him caught.
You were afraid he'd get away
and you wouldn't.
You did that!
CABOT:
Bellamy.
Captain, we can't
leave him in there.
All right, get him out.
The coffin served its purpose.
Right, Judge?
The paths of glory
lead but to the grave.
No coffin has served
its purpose, Captain.
Not until its four walls
quiet the troubling
of the wicked
and deaden the din of the weary.
♪♪
As Robert Burns was won't to say,
there's courage
in Mr. Barleycorn.
Well, what I need right now
doesn't come in a bottle.
Mm.
What's holding them up?
A witness named Quintle.
Quintle?
Quintle's dead.
Look... look, Langford, uh...
I guess you know you're the only
one who can help me out.
Help you?
Heh. There is no Heaven.
There is no Hell.
These be the dreams
of baby minds.
This is my hell, Mr. Yates,
and my master.
I cannot even help myself.
Then what are you doing here?
Mm... curiosity.
Probably compassion.
Compassion, huh?
Well, for me or for you?
Conscience, Mr. Yates,
is God's presence in man.
That luxury I lost long ago,
thanks to this.
I was a lion among men.
A tiger on the high wire
of justice.
I would've fought for you then,
but not now.
No. This is the end of a...
long road for me.
I didn't sell those men out.
They never taste
who always drink.
They always talk
who never think.
So said Brutus.
And so said Judas.
Langford, I'm not guilty.
Yeah, words, my dear sir.
Words. I no longer hear them.
I no longer believe them.
I was a boy.
And then... a lawyer.
And it seemed there was
no time in between.
Finally, I became a judge.
The youngest in three states
and two territories.
Then one day,
they brought in
this young cowboy.
He was accused of killing a man
for the man's wife.
But the evidence was...
circumstantial.
The jury argued it out
for two days,
and then it was up to me
to decide for them,
one way or the other.
I looked into that boy's soul
and I saw innocence.
So I told them,
and they let him go.
Three days later...
he killed the woman, too.
Ah!
From that day on,
the law ceased to exist for me.
I cut it out,
and dissolved it in alcohol.
Well, the man who refuses
to remember the past
is sometimes condemned
to repeat it.
You want me to help you?
Where do you think
I'd find that much courage?
Where it used to be.
Still is, maybe.
I said I would play a part.
A clown.
The buffoon.
A play-actor
on a stage of sand.
That's how it has to be.
It's not enough, Langford.
If you won't cut me free,
then you're gonna
have to judge me.
And you'll have to stand
behind that judgment.
Not behind a bottle.
Why did they have to
bring you here?
Why couldn't it have been
somewhere else?
They didn't bring me here.
I came willingly.
To see this thing ended,
once and for all.
Ended?
"I saw Eternity the other night,
"Like a great ring
of pure and endless light.”
Nothing ends, Mr. Yates.
Except hope.
(approaching hoof beats)
Court-martial is to convene.
Bellamy.
Yes, sir.
Bring in the prisoner.
Jordan...
- Yes, sir.
-...bring the witness.
Well, back inside, Your Honor,
back to your bench,
back to your bottle.
Mrs. Quintle, it's so good
of you to have come.
I had to.
It was my duty, Captain Cabot.
(door opens)
Private Rowdy Yates.
That was from my husband.
All right, Judge.
You may proceed.
Thank you, Your Honor.
Court calls as a witness
Mrs. Agnes Quintle
wife of the deceased
Private Joshua Quintle.
Mrs. Quintle, as I told you
when we talked last month,
we seek our own justice
in our own way,
so you may speak as you will.
And who is he?
Now, he's a judge.
He's agreed to preside for us.
I suppose
that is the proper way.
I don't know you.
Not by your face,
nor the way you speak.
Only by your actions.
And ever since Joshua died
I've kept myself alive
knowing that someday
I would see you...
and I'd watch you die
with that around your neck.
Uh, Mrs. Quintle,
you obviously are aware
of the charges
against the defendant.
Have you anything to add
to the case against him?
Yes.
A letter.
A forged letter...
supposedly from my husband,
but actually written
by Private Yates.
Do you know this letter,
Private Yates?
Yeah, I know of it.
Why does Mrs. Quintle
refer to it as a forgery?
Well, because...
Quintle's hands were injured.
He asked me to write the letter
in his place.
It's all right there.
That proves it was a forgery.
Quintle never hurt his hands.
Uh, Captain Cabot,
uh, this letter
is admitted as evidence,
but I don't understand.
Uh, forgery or otherwise,
what actual bearing
does it have?
Another link in the chain.
Another knot in the noose.
He lied about the letter.
He's lying about the betrayal.
How did Private Quintle die?
After our first
escape attempt failed
we just wrote it off
as bad luck.
Then we began searching
for another plan.
We came up with a tunnel.
Tunnel?
An escape tunnel.
It was to go
from the floor in our shed
across several feet of yard
and then up underneath
the stockade wall.
It took us three months.
Three months to dig that tunnel.
We clawed at that dirt
with whatever we had
at our disposal,
with sticks,
with pieces of iron,
with our hands.
Before we were finished
Yates here
was committed to the infirmary.
When we were ready,
I went to him and told him
we were leaving that night.
And what did Private Yates
have to say?
He couldn't say much
because he was too sick,
but I knew that we couldn't
bring him along with us,
so I told him that we were
gonna leave without him.
Major Holbrook's men
were waiting.
Private Quintle was killed,
Private Burke was killed,
and the rest of us spent
the remainder of the war
in solitary.
In other words, Captain,
you're saying that because
you wouldn't wait
and take Yates with you,
he told Holbrook
what you were planning.
That's the charge.
Now all that's left
is the verdict.
Verdict, sir?
Aren't you rushing things
a little, Captain?
After six years
a man's patience is honed down
as thin as it can get.
Captain, a point of law.
It would not be fitting
to hang the man until
we've heard him speak.
Besides, Mrs. Quintle
has a question.
It should be answered.
The bench calls the defendant,
Private Yates.
Now tell us what happened,
Private Yates.
The way you saw it.
Captain, do we have to
listen to all this?
It's his right.
I would like to hear
what he has to say.
All right, Mrs. Quintle.
By all means, Yates, speak up.
Just don't keep us too long.
It's all I can do for you.
Um...
Well, you see, this tunnel
he's talking about
was cool and it was damp,
and we always had to worry
about, uh,
thing caving in.
I got this fever first,
and so Cabot had Quintle
take me to the infirmary.
And that's...
where Quintle
met Ruth Cogan.
JUDGE:
Ruth Cogan?
This name hasn't been
mentioned before.
Well, I'm sorry it has to be
mentioned at all.
Well, go on.
Well...
I'd like to ask Cabot
a question.
When was it that you
and the others
tried to make your escape?
Mid October.
Take a look at the date
on that letter, Judge.
October the eighteenth.
Every letter that went out
of that prison camp
had to go through Holbrook,
and that took
at least two weeks.
I mailed that letter
on the first part of October.
That was two weeks before
Quintle was killed.
Two weeks before Cabot told me
that he was gonna
have to leave without me.
Well, go on, Mr. Yates.
Bellamy,
who was it that was always
visiting me up there
at the infirmary?
Keeping me informed on
what was going on?
Quintle.
I don't see where this is
leading us, Mr. Yates.
Well, maybe to the truth
about a nurse named Cogan
who was friendly to all of us,
maybe a little too friendly.
You're reaching, Yates.
A nurse who never existed,
a rainbow on a rainy night.
It won't work.
I'm not reaching, Cabot.
She existed all right,
especially for Quintle.
It's simple enough.
He thought he was in love
with her.
No, that's not true!
He-He didn't love her!
She was just a friend!
Oh... then this Ruth Cogan
did exist.
Well, it was in
his first letter.
Joshua talked about visiting
the infirmary,
and he said he met this woman.
And he said that she reminded
him of me.
And she was kind to him.
She was just a friend.
Quintle had a strong back,
but inside he was scared
and lonely.
He reached out for this woman,
and she let him.
He hung on. That was all there
was to hang onto.
No, Joshua loved me!
Yeah, but you weren't there,
and he needed someone.
Joshua wrote you a letter
telling you all about
he and the girl, but I begged
him not to send it,
telling him that as soon as he
got out of here,
everything would be the same
as it always was.
He wouldn't listen to me.
But I never got such a letter.
Right, 'cause I burned it.
I sent that one in its place
so you'd never have to know.
Joshua always was like
a little boy.
He was afraid of being alone.
He should have known
that I would,
I would have understood.
I would have forgiven him.
All right, so Quintle
may have made a mistake,
but it has nothing to do with
Yates' guilt.
Maybe it does, Cabot.
A man like Quintle,
desperate and lonely,
suppose he tells the Cogan
woman about the escape plan?
Suppose he tells her to meet
him later on, huh?
We're not supposing here, Yates.
We're looking for facts.
Jordan, Bellamy, think back
on that night.
What was Quintle acting like?
What was he saying, huh?
Well...
Come on, Bellamy, spit it out!
The Captain wants to hear it.
Don't you, Captain?
There was one thing.
Crawling through the tunnel,
Quintle kept muttering something
about a light.
It was after we had
crawled through
the last of the dirt
and the brush.
Quintle sort of half laughed
and said,
"She'll be waiting.”
Something like that.
Then all I remember
are the shots.
That still doesn't prove
anything.
You said that Joshua wrote you
a letter
when he first met
the Cogan woman
telling you about how she
reminded him of you.
Kind to him.
Don't you think maybe in his
mind she was you?
"My dear Agnes,
"I'm glad to know
that things are good
"and that your mother is well.
"You don't know how much
I miss you.
I love you more every day
I don't see you."
Your handwriting, Mr. Yates,
and your words
written for a woman
you never saw.
Captain Cabot, you spoke
of the verdict.
You spoke of hanging
the accused.
But your evidence,
it's not enough.
To my mind, there is doubt,
considerable doubt.
It could have been as
the accused suggested.
The verdict is still the same,
Your Honor.
Now why don't you just retire
to your chambers
and have yourself a nice
little drink
while we settle
this thing ourselves?
Oh, no, Captain, not until we've
heard the last witness.
The last witness?
Captain Francis Cabot.
Well, now, you're just borrowing
time, Judge.
And you're running out
of credit.
Primus in orbe...
deos fecit timor.
The voice of a dead language,
Captain,
spoken in a dead town.
"It was fear that first made
gods in the world.”
What have you to fear?
A man keeps a hate through him
for all these years.
He builds it up and shapes it
into a crusade.
Why?
There wasn't enough,
not for the trial.
Not from the testimony
I've heard.
Nothing but a terrible war
and the terrible deaths
of friends.
Or were they friends?
They were more than friends.
They were my men.
My responsibility.
And what are they now, Captain?
Are these people still
your responsibility?
I am still their officer,
if that's what you mean.
"He smelleth the battle
afar off.
The thunder of the captains,
and the shouting."”
This war is only the ashes
of dead memories
to most men,
but Captain Cabot
is still your officer.
Tell me...
do you still salute?
Do you still follow blindly?
Without question or morality?
(slams the table)
This has gone far enough.
What's the matter, Captain,
you afraid to take a good look
at yourself?
The Confederacy was destroyed.
You are an officer with no army,
but you've kept your war alive
by creating an enemy,
Private Yates.
Through him,
and your own mantle of hatred,
you kept your men together.
A platoon to lead.
A platoon to destroy.
They needed me.
Now you look at them.
They couldn't have
survived without me.
Look at Mason.
Where do you think
he'd be without me?
And Bellamy, and Jordan...
I think for all of them.
Just as you did when you
wore a captain's gold and grey.
No war, but you're
still their officer.
And they still need me.
You're wrong, Cabot,
you need them.
You need 'em so bad
you're willing to hang an
innocent man just to keep 'em.
One question, Captain Cabot,
who comes after Yates?
Who's next?
How long will you let him
feed his hatred into you?
Eat into your minds
until it destroys you
like it has him,
how long?
(shrieks)
Words, men.
It's just the babblings
of a drunken old man
who hasn't got the courage
to face himself...
much less life.
Now, I say that we've listened
long enough,
and it's time to carry out
what we came here to do.
Myself, I've enjoyed
our little trial.
It showed Yates up
for what he really is.
Corporal Bellamy,
Private Jordan,
you'll carry out the sentence.
Captain,
this is a court-martial,
remember?
The prisoner is entitled
to hear the verdict
before sentence
is carried out.
You, Jordan.
Bellamy.
Mrs. Quintle.
Oh, yes.
Hate...
it's hard to give up,
isn't it?
But you'll get something
in return.
And you, you'll get
your freedom from him.
The verdict,
your verdict...
Fools. Cowards.
You'd let Yates go
after what he did to you?
Very well.
I'll carry out
the sentence myself.
On whom, Captain?
On whom will you
pass sentence?
Langford, stay out of this.
Oh, no, Mr. Yates,
this is our judgment day now,
not yours.
The accused has been found
not guilty.
So that leaves me
doesn't it, Captain?
Langford.
He said a trial, justice,
truth.
Let's see if he can stare it
in the face.
Your gun, Captain.
Your war is over.
(cocks the hammer)
(gunshot)
(gunshot)
First a boy,
then a lawyer,
then a judge,
and finally...
a man?
A man.
(groans)
I'm so sorry.
"Battle afar off...
the thunder of the captains.”
MAN:
Hyah!
(cows mooing)
- Hello there.
- Howdy.
Long night?
The longest of my life.
That, uh, business in town,
you get it straightened out?
Oh, yeah, all straightened away.
Any trouble?
(sighs)
Well, I'm back.
Head 'em up!
Move 'em out!
♪ Rollin', rollin', rollin' ♪
♪ Keep movin', movin', movin' ♪
♪ Though they're disapprovin' ♪
♪ Keep them dogies movin' ♪
♪ Rawhide! ♪
♪ Rawhide...! ♪
Hyah!
(whip cracks twice)