The storms continued as the Mayflower made its way across the Atlantic in search of the New World. Captain Jones had instructed all passengers to remain below deck, There was a fierce storm going on.
Mr. Howland was a young man full of adventure. He was wanting to see what exactly was going on above deck. He had come on the Mayflower employed by Governor Carver, to assist the saints in the establishment of the new colony. Technically he was an indentured servant to the Governor, but his spirit was too adventuresome to be referred to by that description.
Mr. Howland opened a hatch. The rains poured in fierce, as did the winds. The air felt so fresh as the stench of our living conditions escaped through the opening. The rains poured in so hard anyone sitting ten feet from the hatch were drenched with the cold salty water. It was dangerous to become wet in the cold air, but hard to resist the freshness.
Mr. Howland climbed up on top deck and closed the hatch.
Within minutes we heard the cry of a crew member "Man overboard!" Mr. Howland had been thrown into the depths of the Atlantic.
The saints below weren't sure what to do. They looked at Governor Carver who was yelling "I told him to stay down here with us! I thought he was sick and needed fresh air. I didn't know he was going on the top deck."
Somehow Mr. Howland had grabbed on to a rope that was draped over the side of the ship and in the water near him. Some of the crew members fought their way toward him as the storm kept blowing hard against their bodies. Later a crew member told my father he thought sure he would drown, particularly as he would disappear in the waves and then suddenly appear again. Yet, he held on to the rope as he continued yelling for help, muffled at times by the fierceness of the high waves.
Captain Jones opened a hatch partially and yelled to everyone to remain where they were, he didn't want to lose anyone else.
A crew member suddenly yells to Captain Jones "We got him!" A couple of the crew had grabbed a large fish hook and Mr. Howland was able to climb on. They pulled him close to the ship, got some more ropes around him, and pulled him up to the deck.
Captain Jones opened the hatch he had been using, and the crew members lowered Mr. Howland back down to our deck.
He was shaking violently. He looked at me and smiled a little. Blankets and whatever other clothing were wrapped around him as they pulled off all his wet clothes. Mr. Howland became ill with respiratory infection, but was able to recover. Who would think John Howland would live to have ten children and eighty-eight grandchildren, yet...he did.
The scurvy was among us as well. People were so exhausted and the fatigue was only worsening. Some were having to use the chamber pot frequently, if they made it that far. Others encountered swelling in their legs while still others had sores in the gums of their mouths... to the point of losing their teeth. Fresh meat, fresh fruit, anything fresh...I could hardly remember what it taste like. There were a few livestock on the upper deck, yet they looked worse than we did.
Our conditions were horrible and I began to see death in numerous faces. Their eyes spoke so loud. People were losing hope. Mrs. White was close to birth. Another indentured servant to Mr. Fuller, a William Butten, was close to death. People were wondering if the French or Spanish would be waiting for us to attack, or the savages, when or if we ever arrived.
My doublet (jacket) was so filthy and dirty it had become stiff. I was dirty, my hair felt like I had mixed it in mortar, and the lice and bug infestation only added to our loss of hope. How could we go on? I am grateful we had not awaken any of the sea monsters of the deep.
The storms had ceased, the sun emerged, and as we were opening the hatches, a crew member from high above in the crow's nest, shouted "Land!"
Mr. Howland was a young man full of adventure. He was wanting to see what exactly was going on above deck. He had come on the Mayflower employed by Governor Carver, to assist the saints in the establishment of the new colony. Technically he was an indentured servant to the Governor, but his spirit was too adventuresome to be referred to by that description.
Mr. Howland opened a hatch. The rains poured in fierce, as did the winds. The air felt so fresh as the stench of our living conditions escaped through the opening. The rains poured in so hard anyone sitting ten feet from the hatch were drenched with the cold salty water. It was dangerous to become wet in the cold air, but hard to resist the freshness.
Mr. Howland climbed up on top deck and closed the hatch.
Within minutes we heard the cry of a crew member "Man overboard!" Mr. Howland had been thrown into the depths of the Atlantic.
The saints below weren't sure what to do. They looked at Governor Carver who was yelling "I told him to stay down here with us! I thought he was sick and needed fresh air. I didn't know he was going on the top deck."
Somehow Mr. Howland had grabbed on to a rope that was draped over the side of the ship and in the water near him. Some of the crew members fought their way toward him as the storm kept blowing hard against their bodies. Later a crew member told my father he thought sure he would drown, particularly as he would disappear in the waves and then suddenly appear again. Yet, he held on to the rope as he continued yelling for help, muffled at times by the fierceness of the high waves.
Captain Jones opened a hatch partially and yelled to everyone to remain where they were, he didn't want to lose anyone else.
A crew member suddenly yells to Captain Jones "We got him!" A couple of the crew had grabbed a large fish hook and Mr. Howland was able to climb on. They pulled him close to the ship, got some more ropes around him, and pulled him up to the deck.
Captain Jones opened the hatch he had been using, and the crew members lowered Mr. Howland back down to our deck.He was shaking violently. He looked at me and smiled a little. Blankets and whatever other clothing were wrapped around him as they pulled off all his wet clothes. Mr. Howland became ill with respiratory infection, but was able to recover. Who would think John Howland would live to have ten children and eighty-eight grandchildren, yet...he did.
The scurvy was among us as well. People were so exhausted and the fatigue was only worsening. Some were having to use the chamber pot frequently, if they made it that far. Others encountered swelling in their legs while still others had sores in the gums of their mouths... to the point of losing their teeth. Fresh meat, fresh fruit, anything fresh...I could hardly remember what it taste like. There were a few livestock on the upper deck, yet they looked worse than we did.
Our conditions were horrible and I began to see death in numerous faces. Their eyes spoke so loud. People were losing hope. Mrs. White was close to birth. Another indentured servant to Mr. Fuller, a William Butten, was close to death. People were wondering if the French or Spanish would be waiting for us to attack, or the savages, when or if we ever arrived.
My doublet (jacket) was so filthy and dirty it had become stiff. I was dirty, my hair felt like I had mixed it in mortar, and the lice and bug infestation only added to our loss of hope. How could we go on? I am grateful we had not awaken any of the sea monsters of the deep.
The storms had ceased, the sun emerged, and as we were opening the hatches, a crew member from high above in the crow's nest, shouted "Land!"
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