01x07 - We lose - because we win

[bunniefuu]

[PEOPLE CHATTERING]

It just doesn't make any sense.

No, the Whigs have controlled
this district for years.

Never lost an election.

How could this suddenly
turn into a dogfight?

The winds of change
are blowing, I suppose.

Winds?

More like an earthquake.

Like the whole country
is just falling apart.

No, I'm...

So...

have you cast your ballot already?

I did. On my way here.

Can the Whig party
count on your support?

I don't often vote a
straight party line ticket.

I'm more of an independent.

Yes, well, I suppose it's good
for a man to think for himself.

- I agree.
- Mm.

Mrs. Dickinson, who
would you be voting for?

- If you could.
- Me?

What a funny question.
I've never thought about it.

Really? I thought you
were a suffragette.

How dare you insult me like that.

[EXCITED VOICES APPROACHING]

- Dad. Dad, Dad, Dad!
- Oh, my God. Oh, my God.

- It's so exciting. It's so exciting!
- Oh, my God!

Yes, it is exciting.

- It's election day. Of course.
- What?

No, we're not talking about that.

Who cares about an election
when you can't even vote?

We are talking about...

- the circus!
- The circus is coming to Amherst!

Yes, it starts today! They're
setting up the big tent now!

- They've got lions...
- Lions.

... and tigers and...

Oh, Siamese twins.
They've got Siamese twins.

You know? You know Siamese twins.

Can we go? Can we go? Can we go?

The circus?

How depraved.

"Depraved"? What do you mean?

Circuses are dens of depravity.

They're vile and crude
and utterly unsuitable

for polite young ladies.

No. Do you know there
was a circus in Ohio

where so much v*olence was incited,

half the town was seriously injured

and the other half went to jail.

No, circuses are full of
thieves and hucksters, gypsies...

And how about those ladies though?

Those so called "acrobats",

scantily-clad, who will
certainly be roaming about,

flaunting themselves like common
h... I'm not going to say it.

No. Circus is no place for you girls.

So will you take us?

[KNOCKING]

- Ithamar, we need to talk.
- Yes, that's why I'm here.

Well, let's take a little
walk. Perambulate with me.

- It's close.
- I know it's close.

You don't have to tell me it's close.

It wasn't supposed to be close.

No, I know it wasn't. The
Democrats barely put up a fight.

Your hat, sir. You
left it in the carriage.

Thank you. I love this hat.

Right, but it's not the Democrats.

- It's the Know-Nothings.
- The what now?

The Know-Nothings. You don't
know about the Know-Nothings?

No, I know everything
about the Know-Nothings.

- Okay then.
- Well, how about you give me a refresher?

So you don't know.

There's just too many
parties to keep track of.

Why can't there be two?

On the other hand, maybe you do
know and you're saying you don't

because when a member
of the Know-Nothings

is asked about their movement,

they're supposed to
say they know nothing.

- Confusing.
- Yes.

So I could be asking
you about it right now

and you could be
saying you know nothing,

and that could actually
be your way of telling me

you're secretly a member of the party.

Well, let's just assume
for a moment that I'm not.

- Tell me why I'm not a shoo-in.
- Because these Know-Nothings?

It turns out they know
something about winning.

They might win!

Great scones.

Did you know the scone was
invented in the th century?

- I'm sorry, did you say they might win?
- Yes.

- As in b*at me?
- Yes, Edward, I'm afraid so.

But that's impossible.
This is Massachusetts.

The Whig candidate has won this district

since the founding of the republic.

Yes, well, times change.

Oh, Mr. Dickinson!

What should we have for dinner tonight?

I don't care, woman. Surprise me.

Well, how would you feel about woodcock?

Or game hen? Or snipe,
pheasant, plovers, grouse,

roasted hare, or haunch of venison?

Is there any way for me to
get out of this conversation?

The Know-Nothings have built a platform

on populist economic rhetoric

and anti-immigrant nativist anxiety.

- It's a heady brew.
- And noxious.

Yes, but it's working.

And you mean people are
actually voting for these clowns?

Indeed.

It turns out people like it
when you tell them who to blame

for their problems.

And the Know-Nothings are blaming...

Immigrants, Roman
Catholics, the Irish...

- And we're not blaming anyone.
- Exactly.

We haven't picked an enemy.

- That seems like an oversight.
- In retrospect, yes.

So after all this, I still might lose?

- I don't know. It's close.
- Close?

God dammit.

If it's gonna be close then letnit be.
Do you know what, Ithamar?

I believe in this country and
I believe in the good guys.

That at the end of the
day, the good guys win

because we love America.

And when immigrants
come here to join us,

we throw our arms wide open and we say,

"Welcome. Grab a seat. Eat a hot dog".

We don't kick people out.

No.

And as far as these Know-Nothings go,

it sounds to me like what they
need to know something about

is a little thing called patriotism.

And generosity. And pride.

[WOMAN SOBBING]

God, Maggie, what's wrong?

It's me brothers.

They were casting their votes
at the polls this morning

when they were att*cked.

One of 'em was beaten half to death.

Beaten by whom?

The Know-Nothings!

They hate us for being Irish.

You see, Edward? Things
are getting out of hand.

You know, Mr. Dickinson,

me brothers and I, we came to
America to escape persecution.

"The land of the free", they told us.

But it's the same here
as it was in Ireland.

Maybe we should just go back home.

Maggie, don't lose faith
in this nation just yet.

You'll see.

Honor and decency will prevail.

Soon, I'll be elected and I'll
represent you and your brothers.

And I'll make sure something
like this never happens again.

I hope you're right.

I know I'm right.

[EXHALES]

Who cares if I never see an elephant?

I saw a cloud that looked
like an elephant once.

I'm sorry your dad won't let you go.

He doesn't let me to do anything.

You may have noticed.

Yeah, no reading, no swimming...

And no circuses.

So... what are you gonna do instead?

- For fun, you mean?
- Yes.

How will Emily Dickinson
entertain herself?

Mm.

I don't know.

I might stick around the house.

Maybe have a conversation with a moth.

Hm. Well, here's something.

What's that?

Poetry contest.

It says today is the deadline to enter.

"We seek the undiscovered
lyrical genius of Amherst".

That's you. I mean, based on what
I've read of yours, it could be.

I know about the contest.

You do? So have you entered already?

[CHUCKLES]

Remember that conversation we
were just having? About my father.

- Oh.
- Yeah.

No reading, no swimming,
no circuses, and no poetry.

At least not in public.

Do you really think that he would care

if you entered a poetry contest?

I guess you don't really know him yet.

I guess not.

My father says women who seek
literary fame are no better than...

well...

let's just say, "acrobats".

Well, that's a shame because...

I think if you entered that contest,

you would win.

[READING INDISTINCTLY]

"Nobody knows this little Rose"

There you are.

God.

I've looked everywhere.

Hey, Em.

What are you doing here?

I thought staring at
gravestones was my thing.

- We have a problem.
- What is it?

Somebody's buried in Sue's spot.

Who the cripes is Ichabod Beecher?

Oh, that's the Beecher baby.

One of the Beecher babies, I should say.

God, that poor family.

So many babies.
Every single one of them d*ed.

Well, why is this dead Beecher
baby buried so close to our plot?

I guess they lost so many
babies they ran out of room.

Well, that sucks,

but I'm supposed to be buried right here

and Sue, as my wife,
should be buried next to me.

Shouldn't she?

Why don't you just move the baby?

What?

I can't move a dead baby.

What would the Beechers say?

Uh, nothing.

They haven't lived in Amherst for years.

They all moved back to England.

Uh-huh.

Plus that baby d*ed years
ago. He's basically an adult now.

Oh.

- That's true.
- Mm-hmm.

Okay, so I've solved your problem.
I need you to solve mine.

What is it?

The Springfield Republican
is holding a poetry contest.

Today's the last day to enter it.

Well, you're not gonna enter, are you?

- Of course not. Dad would k*ll me.
- No, I know he would.

Which is why I want you to enter it.

My poem under your name.

Me?

- I can't do that, Em.
- Why not?

- Well, for one thing, it's dishonest.
- Only half-dishonest.

The "Dickinson" part will be true.

Yeah, and then what?

You'll be mad because
you won't get the credit.

I knew you'd say that.

I've thought about this.

I swear I won't get mad.

I don't care who gets the credit.

I only want the world to read my words.

- Are you sure?
- Yes, I'm positive.

Here. You have to hurry, the
deadline is this afternoon.

They'll print the winner
in the paper tomorrow.

It's not like really
weird or anything is it?

No. [SCOFFS]

No.

Look, if you win, you'll be proud.

Austin, please do this for me.

Okay.

For you.

You're the best. Thank
you. Thank you so much.

Thank you.

How psyched is Sue gonna
be when I dig up this baby?

You really know your
way around a turkey.

[CHUCKLES SOFTLY] Yeah, well...

since I was orphaned, I
always had to do the cooking.

You haven't had an easy life, have you?

It's wonderful having you back.

Since you returned from Boston.

Thank you, Mrs. Dickinson.

I'm happy you and Austin settled things

and that we're gonna
have a beautiful wedding.

There's something I'd like to give you.

An engagement gift.

I can't... Mrs. Dickinson,
you didn't have to.

It's something my mother gave to me

the day I left the Norcross farm

and went off to marry Mr. Dickinson.

It's been my companion all these years.

Of course, I always thought
I would give it to Emily

on the day she married,

but, well, I think it would
be best if I gave it to you.

"The Frugal Housewife".

Mrs. Dickinson, I
don't know what to say.

Call me Mother.

You'll be my daughter soon.

And don't worry, I'll do
my best not to die on you.

Hey, Sue.

Hello.

What are you reading?

- Your mom gave it to me.
- Mm.

You're really leaning into this
whole housewife thing, aren't you?

Eat sh*t, Emily.

- [SIGHS]
- [KNOCK AT DOOR]

Oh, I thought it was
Ithamar with the results.

No, still no word.

[GROANS]

This was supposed to
be wrapped up by now.

Oh, honey, why don't you
just try to get some rest?

Get a good night's sleep.

- It's been a long day.
- No.

The news could be here any minute.

[FOOTSTEPS POUNDING ABOVE]

Hey, can't those girls keep it down?

It's just Jane Humphrey
and a few others.

Lavinia invited them to stay the night.

Oh, my God, would you tell them to hush?

Oh, yes, of course.

Yeah, I'm deep in contemplation
of our national situation.

I can't bear another moment
of their inane chatter.

I mean the whole Kansas-Nebraska
Act was just a massive overreach

on the part of the sl*ve power.

They actually tried to repeal
the Missouri Compromise.

Like, do they really think

we're going to admit more
sl*ve states into the Union?

The problem is they
control the government.

We have to build a coalition
that can block their legislation.

Jane, you're like, so woke.

I know.

If I was allowed to vote,
I would vote Republican.

Good for you.

The Republicans are the only ones

who explicitly stand against sl*very.

The true progressives. They're
on the right side of history.

I know. It's like, if you really want

justice for all people in this country,

you have to vote Republican.

- Definitely.
- [DOOR OPENS]

- Emily, you're not wearing a nightgown.
- [EMILY] Mm.

I can't sleep.

Too nervous about the election results?

No.

Do you really think
the South will secede?

No way. They don't have the guts.

There are too many
aligned interests at stake.

It would be economically
devastating for everyone.

[JANE] I don't know,
guys. I think they might.

And then we're gonna have a civil w*r.

We're definitely gonna have a w*r.

See? Even weirdo agrees with me.

There's gonna be a w*r

and a million men will die.

And then a million snowflakes
will fall on their graves.

But how do you know?

I know someone...

who knows these things.

Who?

Death.

Oh.

Well, anyway, I wish I could vote.

I know, right?

- Okay, now let's talk about boys.
- [GIGGLING]

Okay, wait, which minister?

- Emily, pass the... pass the salt.
- No, no, no.

- Maybe... No, it's okay.
- I had a healthy portion on the road.

What? But you said...

Lavinia, you're wearing black
silk mittens at breakfast?

Of course I am.

You know that's no
longer considered genteel?

It isn't?

Well, it was never convenient.

Has the paper arrived?

Not yet, Dad. They're
still counting the votes.

Won't be long now.

We're all rooting for
you, Mr. Dickinson.

That's very kind of you, Jane.

You're going to abolish sl*very, right?

[SIGHS] Dear God, I have a headache.

That's a yes.

[AUSTIN] Well,

let me attempt to take everyone's minds

off of politics for a moment.

I have a very special surprise.

Susan?

My beloved,

I have taken it upon myself to ensure

that you and I spend no less than
eternity by each other's side.

- Okay, we all know you're getting married.
- No, no, no.

What I'm saying is that
I'm digging up a dead baby

so that you can be buried next to me.

[MOTHER] I beg your pardon, dear?

No, it's all good, Mom.

I've hired two gravediggers.

They're gonna do it today.

You know that Beecher baby?

You know the one. Ichabod?

He's in the spot next to mine
and that's where Sue needs to go

so that we can be together forever.

In the afterlife.

Is that legal?

- Father, is it legal?
- Of course it's legal.

- Is it legal?
- Shouldn't I know what's legal?

I think it's legal.

- Oh, the poor Beecher baby.
- Dad, it's legal, right?

- What?
- Who names a baby "Ichabod"?

- It's a family name, Jane.
- Paper's here.

Oh.

[EDWARD] Ah.

Dammit.

- Still no results?
- Oh.

This is absurd.

What has happened to the Whigs, hm?

What has happened to this country?

- We need radical change.
- Radical.

That's what I was
talking about last night.

- Me too.
- Please don't talk politics at the table.

Oh, my God, Austin, you won!

I... What?

You won the poetry contest.

Oh.

I did? Huh.

- You entered a poetry contest?
- Yeah.

Let me see that.

Wow.

You're writing poetry?

I have dabbled in poetry.

"Nobody knows this little Rose"

- A poem by Austin Dickinson.
- [AUSTIN] Mm-hm.

"Nobody knows this little Rose

It might a pilgrim be

Did I not take it from the
ways And lift it up to thee

Only a Bee will miss it

Only a Butterfly

Hastening from far journey
On its breast to lie

Only a Bird will wonder

Only a Breeze will sigh

Ah Little Rose

How easy For such as thee...

To die!"

- [JANE SIGHS]
- [MOTHER] That's really lovely.

You wrote this?

Yeah.

As a matter of fact, I wrote it for Sue.

- Oh, and you forgot to read the title.
- Title?

Yeah. I threw one on there.

"To Mrs. Blank. With a Rose".

Mrs. Blank. That's you.

Well, congratulations, Austin.

Thanks, Dad.

This is a marked improvement
from your last attempt.

Excuse me, I feel sick.

Well, I thought it was really lovely.

And I don't like poems.

[BEN] So you entered the contest.

Not exactly.

You won.

No, Austin won.

[BEN SIGHS]

I'm sorry.

It's not your fault.

It's not his fault either.

He didn't choose to be born a man.

Just like I didn't
choose to be born a...

freak.

You are not a freak.

Yes, I am.

Well, then I am too.

You?

An unmarried man my age?

[GASPS]

- Of course I am.
- [CHUCKLES]

Maybe we should run
off and join the circus.

["MISLAID" PLAYING]

[EMILY LAUGHS]

[SONG CONTINUES]

[DOOR OPENS]

Dad,

you didn't knock.

I don't need to knock.

It seems like that's what
doors are for, but... your call.

Do you take me for a fool, Emily?

What?

I said, "Do you take me for a fool?"

No. Of course not.

And yet you treat me like one.

Your own father.

The man who gives you everything.

The food you eat.

The very air you breathe.

Dad, I don't know what you're...

Don't lie to me!

Austin did not write this poem!

Yes, but nobody knows that.

So now everyone's a fool?

The whole world.

- Everyone but you.
- That's not what I'm saying.

They will know, Emily.

Nobody will believe
your brother wrote this.

And you dared do this on the
most significant day of my career?

On Election Day? Do you
realize what you've cost me?

What you've cost this family, Emily?

My God, you bring me
another public humiliation!

It's not my fault.

Of course it is. Who
else's fault could it be?

It's not my fault you
didn't win the election!

Oh! Oh!

Ladies and gentlemen!

Welcome to the big top!

[CROWD CHEERING, APPLAUDING]

[WOMAN] You ready, Emily?

- Ready for what?
- To go on, of course.

They're all here to see you.

You're the star of the show.

[MAN CACKLING]

- Ben?
- Oh.

Good luck out there tonight.

- It's a huge crowd.
- What are you doing here?

I told you I was a freak.

[MOANING]

- [CROWD CONTINUES CHEERING]
- [WOMAN GROANING]

[RINGMASTER] And now,
ladies and gentlemen,

the moment you have
all been waiting for,

the greatest freak of them all:

- a female poet.
- [CROWD GASPING]

[APPLAUSE]

Oh, my God!

Dickinson!

Great news!

You won!

Did you hear what I said?

- I won?
- Yes.

You're going to Washington.

- [LAUGHS]
- Congratulations, Edward.

This is the happiest I've ever been.

You pulled it off!

A narrow victory.

Yes.

Well, let's have a glass of sherry!

No, no, I've got to get home.

But you should celebrate
with your family.

[CHUCKLES]

I won.

- Have you now?
- Yes. As I promised.

The men of honor and
decency have prevailed.

Well...

that's a relief.

[CROWD CHEERING, APPLAUDING]

Whoo!

[SUE, MUFFLED] Emily?

Emily!

Emily.

Sue?

Yeah, it's me.

What happened?

[CHUCKLES]

I...

I went to the circus.