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The Masterâs Story: Christopher Jones, Master of the Mayflower
In November 1620, a battered sailing ship wearily worked its way up the coast of what is today Massachusetts. Called the Mayflower, there was little about the ship and its passengers that indicated it might ever have a place in future history, myth, and legend. Indeed, everything pointed towards, at best, hardship and, at worst, disaster. As those on board looked out on the shoreline of Cape Cod, their anxieties mounted. Not only had the voyage from a very distant England been long and hard but this was not where they intended to be. Only two days earlier, on November 9, they had first sighted this same shore and then attempted to sail down the coast to their intended destination of the northern parts of the colony of Virginia. It was not to be. The strong winds, coastal shoals, and rising winter seas of the Atlantic, which had already battered the ship on its two-month-long journey to this âNew World,â contrived to thwart their plans. At last they had accepted the inevitable and turned back. Now they once more looked out on the same forbidding shoreline that they had spotted earlier. Here they paused their journey to take stock of their situation. Gray waves drove in against the beaches, which were fringed with dunes, rough sea grass, and woodland of pine and stunted oak growing down towards the shore. The ship strained at its anchor cable, and continual seasickness made the cramped, wet conditions on board all the more miserable. Already one passenger and one crewman had died on the journey (the passenger a mere three days before sighting land), and the future seemed far from certain for those who had made it this far.
For, if the intended destination of the colony of Virginia promised a tough but adventurous opportunity to build a new life on a new continent, the uncertainties of this place meant that it was impossible to predict what lay ahead. The experiences of the English settlement, established farther south in Virginia since 1607, indicated that there would be native tribes speaking unfamiliar languages and potentially posing a threat to those who landed from the ship. There would be strange trees, plants, and animals and none of the familiar domesticated crops and beasts of the fenced and parcelled-up English countryside or that around Leiden in the Netherlands, from where many on board had started their original journey. A safe anchorage would have to be found in the sand-silted bays beyond the hook of land that jutted out into the winter ocean. Timber would need cutting and shelters would have to be constructed to provide some protection from the falling temperatures of the fast-approaching New England winter. And it was rapidly becoming apparent that their European clothing was quite inadequate for the adventure. Already rotting from the salty dampness of the sea journey, it was ill suited to the cold of November that was penetrating the shipâs timbers. Yet beyond the ship there was no existing settlement offering shelter, and the temperature was falling.
To add to their distress, all this was on top of a voyage that had been anything but plain sailing. In fact, things had gone wrong from the start. The Mayflower had originally left London with about sixty-five passengers in the middle of July 1620. From there she had sailed to Southampton, Hampshire, to meet the Speedwell, which was bringing others from Leiden. The Mayflowerâs master (captain), Christopher Jones, had then planned that the two ships would begin their Atlantic crossing by the end of July, but problems with the Speedwell (she had already been leaking on her voyage from Leiden to Southampton) threw out his plans, since repairs were needed once the Speedwell arrived in Southampton. Then, soon after leaving Southampton on August 5, the Speedwell began leaking once again. This forced both ships into the port of Dartmouth, Devon, for repairs, since Jones and the Speedwellâs captain were determined to keep the two vessels together for mutual support. They arrived in Dartmouth on Saturday, August 12. About nine days later, the two ships finally set off again. But to Jonesâs frustration, and that of the rest of the voyagers, the Speedwell again began to leak. Vital time was being lost, and the autumn was looming when they returnedâthis time to the Devon port of Plymouth. There the two captains and the senior passengers conferred and made the difficult decision to leave the Speedwell behind. Not surprisingly, some passengers had given up at this point and returned to Leiden on the ailing Speedwell.
Jones had had no choice but to take the remaining passengers on board the Mayflower. Grossly overcrowded with 102 passengers, including 3 pregnant women (one child was later born at sea), and about 30 crew, the solitary Mayflower finally departed from Plymouth on Wednesday, September 6. Along with the packed passengers were live animals, including goats, pigs, and chickens that were kept in pens on the drenched main deck. By this time the passengers had already been on board ship for nearly one and a half months; sleeping and living in thin-walled, low-ceilinged, dark, damp cabins. Now the ordeal continued as England fell away behind them into the sea mist of September. On good days they could go up on the top deck, but bad weather and the attendant rough seas drove them below once more into a fetid space that stank of vomit from perpetual seasickness and worse. The only toilet arrangements were wooden buckets that sloshed and spilled their foul contents as the ship heaved. Food, for those who could keep it down, consisted of hard tack, salted beef and fish, and cheese. For many, the waking day was occupied with praying and psalm singing; with services on Sunday that lasted the whole day. For others less godly there was nothing to do except talk, grumble, vomit, and hope the seas kept down. One of the crew passed his time taunting the most miserable of the sickly passengers with the promise that, if they died, he would be happy to throw their bodies overboard. However, in an event that some identified as the hand of God, this young seaman was the only member of the crew to fall sick and die on the journey, and it was his body that was thrown overboard.
Mercifully the first half of the voyage went well, apart from the unrelenting seasickness. But the trouble with the Speedwell had set back the sailing schedule, and nothing that Master Christopher Jones did could outrun the autumn weather. By October, the Atlantic storms caught them. At times the driving wind was so strong and the Mayflower so battered by the ocean that Jones was forced to let the ship drift before the driving sea. Then the main beam of the Mayflower (the timber running from one side of the hull to the other) cracked. Inspecting the damage, Jones was at his witsâ end and considered turning back. But he faced criticism from some crew members who feared they would not be paid if they did so. At last, under Jonesâs direction, the shipâs master carpenter managed to clamp the great timber together using a giant iron screw that some of the passengers had brought to assist in house construction. But it had been a close call!
All things considered, it was little wonder that after sixty-six days at sea, they had been blown off course from their originally intended destination of the Hudson River and so had first sighted land at Cape Cod.1 And now they were back there again!
It was hardly surprising that grumbling on board the ship was growing into a threatening dissension and that tensions were rising between the disparate elements among the passengers and crew. But disparate hardly begins to describe them. Of the 102 passengers on board, some, as we shall shortly see, were there because their Puritan religious beliefs had set them at odds with an increasingly authoritarian Church of England, whose royal headâKing James VI and Iâwas stamping his authority on the Church and kingdom under his rule. He was determined to bring to heel those dissenting communities who either sought greater austerity within the established Church or, worse still, attempted to set up worshipping communities outside its legal authority. After years of persecution and marginalization in King Jamesâs England, many of the so-called godly on the Mayflower had sought sanctuary in the Netherlands, where they had enjoyed greater religious freedom. But even there things had begun to turn sour, for religious warfare was intensifying in Europe and their sons were facing conscription into the armies of the Protestant Dutch state as it faced threats from its Catholic neighbors. In such a situation the possibility of starting afresh in the raw new lands of North America increased in its appeal as every year passed. Even its alien and unfamiliar nature added to, rather than detracted from, its appeal; for the godly passengers were deeply familiar with the history and experiences of another Chosen People: the Children of Israel. They too had been led by God out of the oppressive and sinful land of Egypt; had struggled through the wilderness for years; and had conquered a new home in the land of Canaan, after crossing the waters of the river Jordan. So, if Godâs people had once found their Promised Land in a place theyâd had to conquer from the native peoples of Canaan, why should His new Chosen People not be similarly blessed as they sought out a new home, and built a New Jerusalem, in the New World? Consequently, the odds against them only served to strengthen their resolve to do as God had commanded. It is therefore perhaps not surprising that later history would remember such intrepid religious adventurers as Pilgrims. However, while their Puritan beliefs had set them at odds with the royally approved Church back home, this did not mean that they necessarily saw eye to eye with each other, or indeed with other dissenting groups. They might describe themselves as Saints, engaged on a mission to build a New Jerusalem on earth, but that did not mean that there was agreement among them over how such a new community should be constructed! And this was not the only cause of tension among the Mayflowerâs passengers, because those on board also included Strangers. In order to make the venture financially viable, economic migrants had been allowed to join the trip. They brought money, skills, and resources to the mission but not the passionate and godly commitment that was a hallmark of the Saints. And then there was the crew. God alone knew where they stood on the path of salvation. From the manners and speech of some, it seemed that they did not stand well in this matter at all, while for others there perhaps was hope. But unity on board ship, there was not!
Not only were conditions appalling and personal relationships fraught but their very legal status was in doubt. Having gained permission from the English authorities to settle in Virginia, they had no proper legal right to establish a colony on this stretch of the New England coast. And, as godly and upright Christians, they knew that if their new home was to flourish, it was essential that they had right and title established by law, even if they had little regard for the Christian integrity and purity of the king and royal authority that issued it. If they were to become Godâs pilgrim people in this new Promised Land, they needed to establish order and decency among themselves and proper government as a community in a strange and alien environment. All this was now complicated by the fact that their present location was not where they had intended to be, and, consequently, they were about to establish a settlement in an area that lacked approval by English royal authority. The way forward was far from clear. So it was in this state that, on Saturday, November 11, the male passengers signed an agreement that would regulate their new settlement.2 Of the Mayflower Compact we will hear more in due course, but it was a step forward in providing rules and regulations for the less than united community.
The ship was now anchored in a sheltered spotâlater called Provincetown Harborâprotected from the Atlantic waves by the curving spit at the northern head of Cape Cod. As the Mayflowerâs master, Christopher Jones, consulted what little documentation he had about this coastline and prepared to assist in the search for a suitable place on shore to settle for the winter, he must have been wondering how he had ever let himself get drawn into such a risky venture in the first place.
The backstory of Christopher Jones and the Mayflower
The backstory of Christopher Jones reminds us of how many unlikely factors came together in order to make the Mayflower voyage possible. It was a backstory that started well before the momentous events of 1620. Yet without these previous histories, what occurred in that crucial year would not have happened, for a wide range of Mayflower Lives were drawn together in order to create the voyage and eventual settlement. So, before we explore the motives and experiences of some of the other key individuals among both the Saints and Strangers on the voyage and in the settlement that followed, we need to appreciate something of the man and the ship that made it possible. For both Jones and the Mayflower had a backstory that existed before the events that thrust them into the full glare of history. They were both experienced, as seafarer and ship, before their American connection eclipsed all their previous activities. But those previous experiences flowed into the later events.
For such a crucial player, we cannot be absolutely certain of the origins of Christopher Jones. However, we are fairly certain that he was born in Harwich, Essex, in about 1570. Despite this, there appears to have been something of a lapse in the keeping of the baptismal records there between the spring of 1565 and the early summer of 1571.3 Since it is obvious that children will have been born and baptized there in this time period, the loss of records indicates a problem in record keeping and document survival, not an absence of baptisms. From the fact that Christopher was later first recorded at, and was then active in, Harwich, and that both he and his family seem well established there, it is clear that this was where he was born.
Harwich was an important port in eastern England, which in the 16th century provided a base for trade across the North Sea to northwestern Europe and Scandinavia. The position of Harwich on the estuaries of both the river Stour and the river Orwell enhanced its status as a port. In addition, it was one of the few safe anchorages between the Thames and the Humber estuaries. As such, it provided Jones with the opportunity to gain experience in both shipping and trading, which would later be so valuable in 1620.
What we do know about the early life of Christopher Jones comes to us from the evidence of two weddings and a funeral. The first key event was the funeral. This occurred in Harwich in 1578, the year of his fatherâs death (the funeral in question), when Christopher inherited from his father his interest in a local ship called the Marie Fortune. The family members were well established mariners, since Christopherâs younger brother, Roger, also received the eighth part of a ship named the Centurion. Later, on Rogerâs death at sea in 1597, he left his older brother his astrolabe (a navigational instrument), which emphasizes his role as a mariner. Clearly, the Jones family was of some significant middling wealth, as evidenced in the part-ownership of the ships that appear in these inheritances.4
The next time that Christopher appears in the 16th-century records is 1593. This was the first of his two weddings. On December 23 of that year he married seventeen-year-old Sara Twitt, who also came from a family with strong maritime connections. The Twitt and Jones families were near neighbors, and the wedding nicely consolidated their financial interests. We have no way of knowing what Christopher and Sara thought of each other, but their marriage was a sound commercial proposition, since Sara Jones, née Twitt, soon inherited from her father a twelfth share in his ship, named Apollo, in 1599.
Christopher was doing well, because in 1601 he became a freeman of the Borough of Harwich. As a freeman he enjoyed a number of rights and privileges, including exemption from various tolls when moving goods in and out of the town. In most cases such freemen were also the only persons eligible to vote at parliamentary elections. When King James VI and I granted the town its Great Charter in 1604, Christopher was named as one of twenty-four of its leading citizens. As such, he is further recorded as assessing tax values on land and urban properties, and as a jury member. An intriguing insight into his upward mobility and its limits comes from 1605, when he was accused of illegally keeping hunting dogs. The relevance of this lies in the fact that this was prohibited for anyone lacking the status of a âgentlemanâ owning property worth forty shillings. Clearly, there were financial limits to what Christopher had achieved by this time, but this had not put a ceiling on his aspirations or his sense of status. His tenacity would later prove valuable when the Mayflower crossed to North America in 1620.
This brings us to that second wedding. This followed the early death of Sara, his first wife, in 1603, aged just twenty-seven years. Following Saraâs death, Christopher quickly remarried. As with his first wife, this was also a financially advantageous maritime match. His new wife, Josian Gray, was the widow of a successful ship owner and merchant (Richard Gray), whose wealth had been enhanced by involvement with speculative ventures in the Caribbean. She was twenty-one and brought to the marriage substantial property and land. The marriage produced eight children. It also gave birth to a new phase in Christopherâs shipping business, since his wealth was boosted by the new match. This is reflected in the fact that, by 1605, Christopher owned his own ship, named Josian after his young wife. At 240 tons, it was an above-average-sized merchant vessel.5 Christopher was doing well.
In 1611 the family moved from Harwich, in Essex, to Rotherhithe, on the south bank of the river Thames. However, the family kept a close connection to their old home port, as, while Master Jones was away on his 1620 journey to America, he sent his heavily pregnant wife (carrying their sixth child) back to her family in Harwich. It was a thoughtful act, given that she would be carrying their latest child to full term on her own. But back to that move in 1611. Today Rotherhithe is part of the London borough of Southwark, but in 1611 it was an independent port and the location of a number of shipyards. To an ambitious seaman, such as Christopher Jones, it offered opportunities due to its close proximity to London and the trade of the Thames estuary. And, at last, around this period of time his story became intertwined with that of a ship which would loom large in the history of North America. For it was in 1611 that a salvage claim names him as the âMasterâ of the Mayflower. There is an earlier brief men...