A Dreary Inspection of Their New Home

On December 21, 1620, passengers who had been onboard the Mayflower for months could finally visit the future site of their colony. With a violent storm lashing the coastline, only a few determined souls took that chance. After years of praying and planning, they would wait no longer to see their new homesite. 

The shallop’s sail struggled against the harbor winds, and the waves tossed them like driftwood. Once on land, it soon became clear that the squalls and angry waters would forbid them from going back to the ship. There was no choice; they were forced to endure through the night. A makeshift shelter would be crucial, but there was not enough time to construct one under the already darkened skies. This was the winter solstice – the darkest time of the year. A long, wet, and trembling night lay ahead for those who were brave enough to go ashore. 

With hunger and illness crouching in every corner, the outlook for those who stayed on the ship was no better. On the day they had looked forward to for years, the coughing and crying was inescapable. And there was no sympathy from sailors who much preferred to haul wood and wine than a boatload of sickly immigrants. 

As the storm battered outside the ship and sickness and stench filled the inside, one more passenger was lost. After five deaths already, Richard Britteridge was the first to slip away after they reached Plymouth Harbor, and the worst was yet to come.  

* * * * * 

“God is our hope and strength, and help in troubles, ready to be found. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be moved, and though the mountains fall into the midst of the sea, though the waters thereof rage and be troubled, and the mountains shake at the surges of the same..” 

(Psalms 46:1-3; 1599 Geneva Bible)

A Coroner’s Inquest for Mr. Waymouth

Titus Waymouth died in Plymouth, so Governor William Bradford appointed a jury of twelve men to conduct a coroner’s inquest on October 5, 1656. Those investigating the incident found no bruises, no wounds, nor any other indication as to what may have taken his life. We know little of Mr. Waymouth today, nor apparently did the people of Plymouth Colony centuries ago. Aside from a chest that Waymouth owned back in Boston (with unknown contents), the entirety of his known estate amounted to a suit, hat, shirt, compass, and back wages of four pounds, sixteen shillings that were owed to him by Boston shipmaster, Samuel Mayo. 

When the jury finally concluded their investigation about two weeks later, their best guess as to the cause of Mr. Waymouth’s death, according to the Plymouth Colony records, was that he succumbed to deadly case of chronic constipation (“stoppings,” they called it) and too much hard cider. 

Perhaps it was an indication of Mr. Waymouth’s financial status and solitary existence that the colony at Plymouth made the financial arrangements for the funeral of this out-of-towner. His burial expenses included a coffin, burial cloth, and the services of the court clerk and gravediggers. Lastly, twelve shillings of Mr. Waymouth’s meager estate were to be paid out to the local tavern for a customary post-funeral toast; after all, no heirs were nearby who could object to the charges. 

* * * * *

"Look not thou upon the wine, when it is red, and when it showeth his color in the cup, or goeth down pleasantly. In the end thereof it will bite like a serpent, and hurt like a cockatrice."

(Proverbs 23:31-32; 1599 Geneva Bible)