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["Confess Jehovah Thankfully"]

♪ Confess Jehovah thankfully ♪

♪ For He is good, for His mercie
continueth forever ♪

♪ To God of gods
Confesse do ye ♪

♪ Because His bountiful mercie ♪

♪ Continueth forever ♪

♪ Unto the Lord
of lords confesse ♪

♪ Because His
merciful kindnesse ♪

♪ Continueth forever ♪

♪ To Him that doth
Himself only ♪

♪ Things wondrous
great for His mercie ♪

♪ Continueth forever ♪

♪ Continueth forever ♪

Here you, come here.
You with the Mayflower?

Master's mate,
Coppin's my name.

These passengers
for the Mayflower?

Aye.

- Any on board?
- None aboard.

Hmm.

They want to pray this way
instead of this way.

And they don't kneel.
They pray standing up.

They calls it religious freedom.

For that they're sailing into
the black sea of darkness.

Have you searched that cargo?

Or been spending time watching
the ways of the dissenters.

- We have searched the cargo.
- Ah.

Here you.
What's your name?

Samuel Fuller.
William Button.

John Carver. My wife.

Stephen Hopkins.
My wife. My children.

My bondsmen.

William Bradford.
My wife.

And you?

- Mary Brewster.
- Love Brewster

Rafa Brewster.

- Wife of William Brewster?
- Yes.

Where's your husband?

I came from Holland with the
others on the Speedwell there.

- And we've had no word.
- Speak up!

Did your husband come
with you on the Speedwell?

I've not seen him
these many months.

Brewster's not been among us.
He fled from Holland months ago.

He's believed to be dead.

A voyage into
the New World alone?

By the goodness of my neighbor,
Mr. Bradford, my sons and I--

Why're we being questioned?
We're all cleared for departure.

Except William Brewster.
We want your leader.

The rest of you may go
and good riddance to you.

Passenger for the Mayflower?

Gilbert Winslow.
I'm just down from London.

May I give you a word of advice?

This Brewster, this leader
of the dissenters

if you're wise, you'll
force him to go with us.

It'll be easier to let him sink
there than keep him locked up

in prison until
he starves to death.

This man won't starve
to death, he'll hang.

And there's five crowns reward
for the fellow who turns him in.

- Five crown, eh?
- Hmm.

What's he look like?

Old man, white hair.

Well, I must do
something about this.

These are the years
of wonder on earth

when a man may go
beyond the world's rim

and live to see marvels

if he can keep his feet dry
and the ship from sinking.

Why are you going?

I'm going because I've
nothing better to do.

I wanna see for myself
whether it's a new world

or only the backside
of the old one.

- Does it take money to go?
- If it did, I wouldn't be here.

I'm an impoverished tutor.

Not quite a gentleman,
but no worse than the others.

Uh, there's not a drop
of blue blood among us all.

Scarcely a shilling.

Who pays for the ship
and the provisions?

The investors.

A Mr. Weston representing
the Virginia Company.

It passes me how Mr. Weston
and his investors

expect to get their money back.

They do and a profit.

We're drawing up a Compact.

In exchange for the money
we'll give our labor

for five days of every week for
seven years in the New World.

We'll harvest crops,
trap furs, dry fish

and the profits will be theirs.

And for the other
two days of each week

we shall be permitted
to work for ourselves.

- 'Mayflower passengers.'
- It's a rich country.

Two days a week is enough

if you expect to find
gold in your dooryard.

Seems to be going aboard.

We sail tomorrow.

They're waiting only to hire
two more sailors and a, uh..

...a carpenter.

- Good day to you... carpenter.
- Good luck.

Back water.

In oars.

Cargo loading is smooth,
Mr. Coppin?

Aye, Captain. But we'd
be loaded deep.

Fools taking their wives
and children with them.

Keep them out of
my way. Get aboard!

There's a gentleman from
London been asking for you.

- Where?
- Yonder.

The one in the brown velvet.

Sailing in the morning?

- You came to say me goodbye?
- Later.

- Mr. Weston.
- Captain Jones.

Won't you sit down?

So, we meet at last,
Captain Jones.

Our correspondence has
been most satisfactory

but as I wrote to you
I have a small matter

I wish to discuss
with you in person.

Not too small to bring you
from London to Southampton.

In confidence, Captain.

What is your opinion
of your passengers?

You're paying me
to transport them, Mr. Weston.

They're a rabble.

A rabble of poppers

running to some notions
of wealth and adventure

because they believe
the tall tales

they've heard of the New World.

And others running from
the Church of England.

Because they've got new notions
as to how to say their prayers.

But there's one thing
to be said for them.

They'll make good settlers

because they've nothing
to come back to.

They've sold their homes,
spent their last shilling

on equipage for the New World.

As for the religious dissenters

they're very earnest and
determined to see it through.

Now when you have even a small
group like that, Captain

they're likely to infect
the rest with their zeal.

So, they can say their prayers
standing on their heads

if they have a mind to.

'If they but build
me a settlement here.'

'I don't understand,
you must be mistaken.'

'The Virginia Company owns
a tract in this region.'

That's... south
of the 41st parallel.

That's where the sackers
are to be landed.

Uh, do you know this other
tract? The Cape Cod region?

That's owned by another company.
The New England Company.

Captain Jones, you are to take
your passengers to New England.

But that's hundreds of miles

north of the region
agreed upon by all parties.

A 100 pounds.

And another 100 when you return.

The passengers are not to know

their destination
has been changed.

Naturally, there'll be nothing
in writing between us.

And if ever in the future
you speak of it

I'll call you a liar
to your face.

Let us by all means have
a gentlemen's agreement.

What troubles you, Captain?

Do you care where
these people land?

I don't care if they land
in hell. No, that isn't it.

But there's another man
who'll have to know about this.

My mate, Coppin.
He's a good navigator.

If we sail above the 41st
parallel, he's bound to know it.

Coppin, will have to be told.

I see. Yes, he'll
have to be paid.

- I'll see he's--
- 'Is Captain Jones here?'

You're Captain Jones
of the Mayflower, sir?

I'm a carpenter.

I'm a good carpenter, sir.

I've worked on the building of
ships and I have built houses.

And I'm a Barallete too.
A trained cooper.

I can read and write a letter

and I'm an orphan
and not married.

Oh, how interesting.

I've never been to sea, sir,
but I-I am a carpenter.

You're a carpenter. You've
also had a drink too many.

Oh, not today, sir.

Then what in the name
of blathering bills

are you talking about?

I'm told you're
hiring a carpenter.

Not I. I have a full crew.

I've had the same ship's
carpenter for five years.

- Oh.
- It's not a ship's carpenter.

It's the passengers.
They're still short three men.

They're putting 'em on today.

They'll pay someone to tend
to their barrels on the voyage

and help them build houses
in the New World.

Sign on for one year, then
return or stay as you will.

See Mr. Martin at the Old Inn.
He'll give you papers to sign.

Thank you, sir.
Thank you, sir, Captain.

- Get on with you.
- Yes, sir.

I'll put in a word
for you with Martin.

- What's your name?
- John, sir. John Alden.

We're lucky we shipping
on the Mayflower.

This Speedwell is a tub of bones
and she's rigged all wrong.

But she's our consort vessel.
She's sailing with us.

Aye, and she's oversparred.

Her ballast won't take it,
she'll be giving trouble.

But the settlers are keeping
her for a year in the New World.

- How many person she carrying?
- About 30 I think.

Captain of the Mayflower never
carried no passengers before.

Ha ha. He hates 'em.

- He's a blister, that man.
- Aye, he's a hard master.

But a good sailor.
You'll ride easy on this ship.

You there.

You.

Passengers were told
to stay in the waist deck.

I'm not a passenger.
I'm not a sailor.

I'm a carpenter
and I was hired by--

You were hired by that company
of ragpickers not by the ship.

Now, lift yourself off the
Captain's deck or I'll lift you.

What?

Belay!

Next time I'll heave
it over the side.

Get below.

Where am I supposed
to put my gear?

Passengers see me as crew and
the crew thinks I'm a passenger.

Poor laddy. That makes thee
wee orphan child now, don't it?

Get below!

You were hired to look
after the supplies.

See the rats and passengers
keep outta them.

- Now get below.
- Yes, sir.

It's human cargo this trip.

Most of them come from homes
where they slept in soft beds.

In their own clean rooms.

What is that drives such men
to adventures of this sort.

The police.

No.

Not a lone bat.

Not that alone.

Here.

Here's mine, captain.

It's not very luxurious, but
you're welcome to half of it.

I'll see what comfort
there is below.

John, this is my
elegant brother, Edward Winslow.

This is John Al..

John.

We're off to a meeting
on the deck.

Store your gear with mine,
till you find a corner.

- Who is she?
- William Mullins' daughter.

Priscilla Mullins.

The only female aboard
unmarried, over the age of ten

fit to look at.

Ah.

Oh... creeping crows,
I thought it was rats.

I've been sleeping, I believe.
Good day to you, young man.

Your pardon, sir. I thought
to make me my bed here.

- But if you're--
- Take no notice of me, lad.

I shan't stay here long.

I've been having a nap

away from noisy children
and the like.

Children are a blessing,
but they run and yammer so.

Who're you, young man?

I'm the settlers carpenter.

I came down here for a quite
hour with the Good Book.

Great comfort in Scripture.

Well, that's not Scripture.

"The People's Plea
For A Free Church."

How now?
A carpenter and can read.

It's a forbidden book, isn't it?

You're a well-informed
carpenter.

I never saw the book
before this minute.

- But I'm better informed now.
- I see.

I'm a loyal subject of the King
and a God-fearing member

of the Church of England,
Mr. Brewster.

I'm going above now,
for the rest of my gear.

How'd you know, I'm not gonna
turn you in for the five crowns?

Because we're on
the same pilgrimage.

'I'm on no pilgrimage.'

Every man on this ship
is on a pilgrimage.

To a spacious land, where
a man can set up a trade

without pulling down
two of his neighbors

and need not pluck his means
from another's throat.

Such a man cannot
be tempted by five crowns

'to betray a fellow pilgrim.'

The settlers are all
above at a meeting.

I'm not a settler.
I'm a hired man.

So am I.

Hired as a soldier to teach
them the use of firearms.

- John Alden.
- Miles Standish.

That don't last, it'll do.

- My wife, Rose.
- How do you do?

Her last work seems
to be tacking me

dosing me, mending me.

- Let's look at the meeting.
- Aye.

'...during which time'

'all profits and benefits that
are got for the trade, traffic'

'trucking, working, fishing
or any other means'

'of any personal pursuant
shall remain'

'still in the common stocks
until a division.'

Furthermore, in agreement,
we do by these presence solemnly

and mutually affix our seals
and so forth and so forth.

'Each man must sign.'

These are not the terms we
agreed upon in our discussions.

Agreed or not agreed.
This is what you're to sign.

I, for one, won't sign.

And before you sign, friends

reflect carefully
on what you're signing.

Mr. Weston has waited
until the eleventh hour

to present this agreement
in writing.

Now, it does not contain
the terms that he promised us.

He promised us that the homes we
built and the vegetables plots

were to be ours
from the beginning.

Only the profits from our labor
would be divided by his company.

But this paper says,
we're to work not five

but seven days a week.

Everything produced, bartered,
grown or made in the New World

our homes and the tables
and chairs we make for them

are to belong to the company.

This means that after seven
years, Mr. Weston's company

can lawfully seize
every stick and stone

we've labored to produce.

You'll sign it, or I wash my
hands off the whole affair.

We can't sign our lives away.
You're making bondslaves of us.

Do as you please.
You'll get no more from me.

This is my last word.

'You'll stand on your
own feet now. Without me!'

And now, you may sail,
Captain Jones.

Close the door.

He's left them in our hands.

I think I begin
to see what he's doing.

He's going clean
outta his head. That's what.

The money's already been spent
for charter and supplies.

His company's money.
Now he tosses it all away.

Mr. Weston suddenly makes
the terms too difficult

for the settlers to accept.

In the name of the company,
he forces a quarrel on them

and he tears up
the tie between 'em.

There is no contract and no
obligation on either side.

But why?

So it'll be easier for me
to land them in the wrong place.

These are honest fools.

With a contract,
they might insist upon..

...being taken where
they agreed to land.

But now, they have no contract.

But he works for the Virginia
Company. They pay his wages.

Yes. It's a neat gamble.

And it's likely
to make him rich.

I don't understand it.

They're..

Another cup, Mr. Coppin.

The New England Company.

The New England Company
has never been able to gather

enough settlers together to make
a permanent colony on Cape Cod.

Therefore, The New England
Company is bankrupt.

Now... without notifying
his employers

as to his activities

Mr. Weston will privately
and secretly

buy up the bankrupt
New England Company

for a small penny just before
the word gets back to London

that, uh, either through
accident or error

the settlers have landed
on their land.

Now, with good settlers,
the New England Company..

...will prosper.

And Mr. Weston
will become rich.

All at the expense..

...of his former employers,
the Virginia Company.

Well, dip me in bilge.
Ha ha ha.

Hey, he hasn't paid us enough.

Now... we'll see to that
when we return.

- Mr. Coppin!
- Aye aye, sir.

I beg you.
Gentlemen, gentlemen.

We have no further time
to argue back and forth.

I move, we sail

without Mr. Weston's blessings.

But is the Captain
willing to sail?

I have no orders
to the contrary.

I sail on the morning tide.

Fools, dimwits.

Make ready to sail in
the morning. I'm going ashore.

Aye, sir.

That's it, Meggie.
That's it, Meggie.

'That's it.'

Be careful, sailor.

Here we go, Meggie.

Uh!

Hey, you.

Give me a hand there, lad.

Fare thee well, Meggie.

Good luck, sailor.

Oh, Meggie.

I'm a might unsteady?

I'm full to the scuppers.

Well now,
there's a pretty girl.

Well, it's the very same.

The very same.

The one with the sad
beautiful eyes.

Let me go.

Why, there's nothing
to fear, lass.

Let me go.
I beg you, let me go.

Why, she's all aflutter.
All aquiver.

Flushed and kindled.

Hey, help me to my cabin

and we'll have
a nice cup of brandy

you and I, and we'll
quench a few fires.

Oh, a skittish mare, huh?

As pretty a bit
as ever strolled the lane.

Married to that dull-faced
psalm singer who doesn't know

the right kind of hymns
to sing--

Hey, Captain Jones, let me go.

Oh, you have to pretend you
don't like it.

I know that. I know.

Hymns and prayers,
that's all you've ever known.

- That's all--
- I beg you, sir, let me go.

Let me go.

'I beg you, sir, let me go.'

- Mr. Clarke!
- Aye!

- Mr. Coppin!
- Aye!

- Mr. Duff!
- Aye!

Make ready to sail.

Starboard one, sail off.

'Starboard one..'

Passengers below.

Clear the decks, get below, you
fiddle blocks, we're sailing.

'Loose everything.'

Lively aloft!

'Anchors away.'

Take topsails!

Take forward bay.

Heave it!

'Overhaul that..'

'Man that rein!'

- Up the starboard.
- Up the starboard, sir.

That's good..

- Ease your helm.
- Easing the helm, sir.

Steady as she goes.

Steady it is, sir.

August the sixth.

This is our first night at sea.

I'm growing acquainted
with my fellow passengers.

It is possible to distinguish
the religious dissenters

from the ones who are going
for trade or adventure.

Perhaps it is the cleanliness
and neatness of the dissenters

which they have made
part of their religion.

They have invented a saying

"Cleanliness is
next to godliness"

and they're somewhat
tiresome about it.

The others are a varied lot.

Farmers, weavers,
tailors, cobblers.

Some are tradesmen with
the wisdom to see ahead

the opportunities
of a new world.

In addition to the children
of the settlers

there are the street waifs,
homeless orphans

cast aboard by the Lord Mayor
of over-populated London.

The master of the Mayflower,
Captain Jones

has shown in many small matters

an attitude of unfriendliness
toward the passengers.

He sees insults in every glance

and accusations
in every innocent word.

Well, Master William Button

you should be below... asleep.

I'm going to be
the first to see land.

Keep me eye peeled I will.
Then I'll be the first.

It'll be like
the Garden of Eden.

'And I am going to be
the first to see it.'

As for me, from the way
the wind's blowing

'I shall probably be the first
to be bitten by the snake'

that lurks in every Eden.

Are you well?

Had to see daylight.

Mary has been warned.

'Your name is
John Williamson of Surrey.'

- She's been told to--
- Good morning!

- Good morning, Mr. Williamson.
- Good morning.

Fine weather, eh?
I hope it holds.

Mistress Brewster..

...this is John Williamson
of whom you may have heard.

Mr. Williamson?

- How much did he hear?
- I don't know.

He's no fool, that Captain.

August the fifteenth.

We have been at sea
for ten days.

Our consort, the Speedwell,
has caused several delays

putting back,
trimming and mending.

She is now once more
beginning to lag behind.

- She's signaling, sir.
- Answer and heave too.

Confounded slop bucket.

She's given us nothing
but trouble since we started.

Ahoy, Speedwell!

'Ahoy!'

Captain Reynolds, report!

'We're leaking fore and aft!'

Can you be mended?

'Not at sea!'

Can you stay afloat
with pumping?

'Aye, but I don't know how long!'

- Mr. Coppin.
- Aye, sir.

'Break out the longboat.'

Between the horns
they don't know fore from aft.

I am going over.

Will you tell me the nature
of the trouble, Captain Jones?

I'll report it to the passengers
so that they may decide.

I tell you the nature
of the trouble

you report it to the passengers
and they decide?

In the first place, I don't know
the nature of the trouble.

And in the second place,
when I do know it

I'll tell the passengers
and I'll decide!

I've inspected the damage
and she's leaking like a sieve.

There's only one
thing for her to do

and that's turn back
once more for England.

Hold!

We're a hundred leagues
from Land's End.

The Speedwell should
flounder on the way home

all her passengers
will have to go down with her.

There happens to be room only
for her crew in her longboat.

Now I care no more what
happens to those passengers

than I care about
what happens to you.

But if she sinks, I'll never
be able to show my face

in an English port.
There you have it.

We're going back with her.

That's the nature
of the trouble, Mr. Bradford

and that is my decision.

We are once more in England.
Anchored off Plymouth.

Having lost many weeks since
the Mayflower left London.

If we ever sail again,
and there is now some doubt of that

this delay will bring us
into the season of storms.

You asked to see us,
Captain Jones?

I asked to see the leaders.

I take it you heard the news.

We've heard that the Speedwell
can't sail again

not for several weeks.

We don't understand
these nautical matters.

Nautical?

Captain Reynolds received the
best part of his money in advance.

He was to remain
with the Speedwell

and stay with you
in the New World for a year.

I never made such a bargain.

Perhaps if I had, I would've
done the same thing he did.

And what did he do?

'He broke the Speedwell's hull,
Mr. Bradford.'

The Speedwell was oversparred.
He knew that.

And yet he sailed it
with too much canvas

and with a rigging too slack.
And now her..

It's a matter of stresses
on the hull, Mr. Bradford.

'Her bilges are warped,
her seams are open'

- 'You've lost the Speedwell.'
- That much we'd heard.

We've discussed it, all of us.

And we made our decision.

Oh, you've considered it
and you've made the decision?

This is our
rightful area of authority.

Area of authority!
On my ship, I am the authority!

- But, Captain Jones, we have--
- Mr. Bradford..

Captain Jones, I think you'll
agree we have no choice

but to sail again, and at once.

Will you permit us
to transfer the passengers

from the Speedwell to this ship?

Eighteen passengers have chosen
to remain in England

out of discouragement
and illness.

The rest are willing to share
their food and their space.

You want the Mayflower to sail
on alone without a consort?

You understand
the dangers of this?

Afraid, Captain Jones?

Now let us have one
or two matters understood

before we sail.

Sit down.

I can give you no more
space aboard this ship

than you're already
provided with.

As far as food is concerned,
if you choose to starve

there's nothing I can do.

Starving at sea is no worse
than starving in England.

You'll have no ship of your own.

You'll have no Speedwell
standing by

during those long months,
housing your women and children

while you build
shelters for them.

And no Speedwell
to carry you back

when you grow discouraged
and give up this adventure.

I intend to land you
and leave you there.

And as for you,
the masquerade is over.

I know who you are,
Mr. Brewster.

You know, that as Captain
of this ship I have the right

to turn him over
to the constables of the King.

'But I'm not going to
turn him over.'

- Thank you, Captain.
- Thank you, Captain Jones.

Keep your thanks to yourselves.

There's so much mealy-mouthed
kindness aboard this ship

it sickens me to hear it.

I'll guard my words in future.

You've nevertheless,
done me a kindness.

I've done myself a kindness.

I'm taking you along
as a hostage.

Hostage?

- Against what?
- Against trouble.

So be forewarned gentleman.

If there is ever
the slightest question

raised about any decision
I might make

I'll put this old
gentleman of yours

in irons, take him back
to England and watch him hang.

That is all.

Why do you hate us,
Captain Jones?

'Why are you so
full of contempt for us?'

Because you are hypocrites.

You talk fine
of a new clean world.

What you're really dreaming
of is getting rich

from the gold you'll
steal from the savages.

I grant you we may be
commonplace men

and no better than any others

but heaven has chosen
to create around us

a situation to which
we must rise.

Or die in our souls.

That's when men perform
miracles, Captain Jones.

Be a miracle if any of them
is alive after this.

Good evening, Captain Jones.

I gather we're sailing
on the morning tide.

We are if this fog lifts.

The people from the Speedwell
will board now.

I don't know where
we'll stow them

but we've put together
a new list of passengers.

- How many in all?
- A hundred and two.

Fifty men, 20 women
and 32 children.

More women and children
than men.

Sailing across an ocean
into a winter wilderness

with their women and children.

I am carrying a cargo of madmen.

You can't make a world
only with men.

We're settlers, Captain Jones,
not explorers or conquerors.

You're fools,
that's what you are.

And liars.

I can see through
this clean New World talk.

It's possible, Captain Jones,
that you see no further

than the end of your nose.
These are honest men.

There are no honest men.

There are those who try to be.

I've lived long enough
in the world to know

what men are made of.

There's the good of the world,
Mr. Winslow.

The good clean sea.

And my ship.
My good ship.

I put faith in my ship
and she's never failed me.

Don't put your faith in men

and you'll never
know disappointment.

Perhaps.

But then I could never know
friendship or love either.

Friendship!

Love!

Heave-ho, Dick!

She's a tuned vessel, Dick.
She'll handle easy.

Fishing, ma'am?

Lord loving!
She's caught a whale.

- Let me give you a hand there.
- Leave. I'm helping the lady.

- Will you please go away!
- Belay there.

You belay.
She told you to go away.

- I was helping the lady.
- I'll help you over the side.

- I'm sorry, ma'am.
- Leave me alone both of you!

I saw her first!

'Belay!'

Belay there!

- Your father's seasick again?
- It's to wash me.

Oh, Mistress Mullins,
you can't wash with sea water!

- Superstition.
- Sea water won't take soap.

It'll crack your skin open
and the winds will do the rest.

Can't be helped. We're not given
enough water to wash our hands.

You wait till it rains again.
I'll catch you nice soft water.

Never going to rain again.

We been eight days without it
and you all smell like pigs.

Oh, I must remember to stand
downwind from you then.

You're not too bad.
Not like the sailors.

Now would you fill
that bucket again?

No.

But if you must wash,
I'll catch you some water.

Come along.

Until we land, I must see
to every tub and barrel.

They mustn't leak or go bad.

- That's beer.
- It's important work.

Trading goods for the savages.
Knives and bracelets.

Here's water.

That's oats.

And that's smoked beef
over there.

And this is a printing press.

I may not know about your beer
and your beef, Mr. Alden

but I do know about
this printing press.

It was brought from Holland.

It's the reason in a way
for this whole voyage.

It was on this very press that
Mr. Brewster and the others

printed those books
that made us exiles.

Come. I'll show you
where I live.

I found me a snug place.

Go on.

'It's the rope locker'

It's so quiet here.

Aren't you ever afraid
so far from the others?

This is nothing to be afraid of.

I've seen the sailors
looking at you

and I don't like it.

I don't like it either.

You're no different
from the others.

Oh, but I am.
I am.

How're you different?

Because you like me.

That's the important difference.

Let me carry it for you.

Oh, oh, no need. No.
Stay where you are.

I'd rather go alone.

Slut.

Hey..

That's not salt water.

Water from the sea
don't make lather like that.

You've been
washing clothes, huh?

- Take your hands off me.
- Too good for a sailor, ah?

But not too good to use up
his drinking water.

Now you come with me.

It's the lady which had a bath
in our drinking water.

Now I know how some of them
have kept their faces--

You forgot to knock
when you came in, Mr. Coppin.

Get back to your watch.

Aye, sir.

I could punish you for this.

I did but wash my face, my hands
and a little of my neck

and then I washed
a cap and a collar.

All this cleaning and scrubbing
was learned in Holland, I wager.

A good Englishman
doesn't mind a little dirt.

Sit down, Mrs. Bradford.

See, the passengers and crews
have separate storage for food

but water is common to the ship

and if it runs dry,
we'll all go thirsty.

I promise not to use
the drinking water again

Captain Jones.

Of course, there's always
a little water to be found

for friends of the Captain.

- May I go now?
- No, not yet.

The laws of the sea require
I punish you for this.

I haven't quite decided
what the price

of the water shall be.

If you're gonna
toss me over the side

and feed me to the fishes,
do it now

and spare me
this cat and mouse game.

When I start feeding
the fishes, Mrs. Bradford

there are one or two others
who will go first.

What is wrong with you people?

Why can't you be
civil and agreeable?

What's wrong with your sailors?

They give the women no peace.

My sailors are not
used to seeing women

strolling the deck.

You mustn't be annoyed with them

if they get out of hand at
times. Remember, they're men!

Although I'm not too sure
that you'd know

a man if you saw one,
married as you are to--

I'm not obliged
to listen to this.

You're obliged to live
on a 90-foot vessel with me.

And there are some things
which are inevitable, lady.

Inevitable?

I can see it all,
just like a soothsayer.

You've never been
on a long voyage.

Weeks and weeks
in close quarters

with nothing to do
and very little to think about.

All was the liquid sea moving
beneath you, setting you astern

telling you that you're alive!

I don't need the beating of my
blood to tell me I'm alive.

By the time this voyage ends,
this ship will contain

not the 102 passengers
and 30 crewmen.

It'll contain 132 cats and dogs

a 132 rotting beasts!

'It's the sea that does it'

'the closeness of all to the
others. You'll see it.'

So, uh, you and I may just
as well make our choice early

the best choosing the best.

And assure ourselves
of a very pleasant voyage.

What a foul man you are!

Tom Tinker's boy is ill,
you should visit them.

- Oh, yes, William.
- Not now, tomorrow will do.

I understand there
was some unpleasantness

in the matter of water.
Where's the... ah, yes.

We must try to understand the
problems of the ship, Dorothy.

- The rules must be obeyed.
- I know, dear, I--

And I should try to keep out
of the way of the sailors.

There was probably some
justice in whatever occurred

but it may have been
an embarrassment to you.

Don't wait for me.
I may be late.

I'm meeting with the others
on the subject of rations..

September the 15th.

Today, Captain Miles Standish

is making a most earnest
effort to teach us

the use of firearms.

But I suspect that we
shall never be soldiers

for we grow clumsier and more
baffled with each new command.

Now, again. And this time
all of you do as I do.

Shoulder your musket!

Poise your musket!

Mount your musket!

Recover your musket!

Trade your musket!

Draw forth your scouring stick.

Recover your scouring stick.

Return your scouring stick.

Hold! Hold!

Ah, laugh, ya ballarags..

But if you don't attend
to me now, you'll wish you had

when savages and wild beasts
fall on you in the wilderness.

I shall now load
the musket with gunpowder.

Observe me first
and do nothing.

This... is gunpowder.

Open your charge.

Charge your musket.

Put in your ball.

Draw forth your scouring stick..

...and ram your ball home.

Return your scouring stick.

Poise your musket,
mount your musket.

When you go armed, you will
carry your fuse lighter.

It is applied to
this cocking piece.

When you pull the trigger

it is released down
into the flash pan.

The powder ignites, burns
through the touch hole

explodes the powder
in the barrel

and the ball flies forth

carrying destruction!

Now attend me carefully.

Prime your pan and touch hole.

Guard..

...blow and open the pan.

Draw forth your wick..

...and blow on the coal.

Cock your match.

Present.

Give... fire!

...mate when Captain John Davis

God bless him, for a nobleman
were lost in straits.

And you've been
to the New World too?

Not to Virginia
where we're heading

but fishing banks off Cape Cod.

- 'And did you see savages?'
- 'That I did.'

'We brought three home with us'

'all smeared with grease they
were, naked to make you blush.'

We tried to put
decent clothes on them

but they had a leaning
toward chicken feathers.

I'm going be a king
in the New World

and I'm gonna be
the first one to see land.

I swore I'd never make this
voyage again, but here I'm.

The last time, weeks on weeks
we ploughed south by west

'and was drove back
by ugly seas and headwinds.'

'All our spars were carried
away, them was dark nights'

'and dying men's dinners
without end.'

'Spin us a more
cheerful yarn, sailor.'

Tell us of the mighty rivers
and warm sands, palm trees.

You think you'll be seeing
palm trees and warm sands

and living the life of ease,
let me disabuse you right now.

It'll be a cold winter world
where fine words will be useless

and your saints
will be a burden.

'A world in which only men of
brawn and blood will survive.'

A world in which men will have
to be strong enough to care

for the women they have dragged
like cattle into the wilderness.

At last, the autumn voice
of the Atlantic has come

bellowing out of the horizon.

The passengers remained huddled
in the crowded tweendeck

and all the hatches are closed.

With the wind and the assault
of the black water

the weather has grown
suddenly cold.

As for the Eden I dreamed of,
it seems it is not to be.

But they have found theirs.

He has appointed himself
her watch dog and guardian.

I know of no surer
sign of love in a man.

Young William Button, who plans
to be a king in the New World

has been taken with lung fever.

Batten down, Mr. Coppin.

Watch your helm,
hold her steady, you dolt.

Steady, sir. Steady.

- Shorten sail, Mr. Coppin!
- Aye, shorten sail!

'Pull up. Hold her at bay.'

'Aye. Pull up. Hold her at bay!'

- Pull up the main topsail.
- 'Aye.'

- Take in the spritsail!
- Aye. Take in the spritsail.

'Lively, aloft.'

- Slack away, there.
- Slack away.

Fair below. Hold fast.

- Hold fast!
- Holding fast, sir.

Gaspard, here!

Clear away that broken spar.

You up there, rig a sea anchor.

Charles!

Charles!

Charles! My son!

Charles, Charles!

Charles!

My son, he's gone on deck again.

Alright, I'll get him for you.

Charles! Charles!

Charles!

Mother, mother, here I am.

Bradford! Bradford!

Charles!

Charles!

Get below, you blubberhead!
Get below.

Lend a hand.

You blubberhead!

Now, get below!

Make some way!

...to starboard!
Hold fast!

- Come on.
- Go, go!

- Underneath, right in here!
- I can mend it, sir.

There's something down
in the cargo hold that'll do it.

- What've you got there?
- A printing press.

A printing press?

Heave!

Now!

'Harder on the..'

Ease!

Now!

'Go harder!'

With God's mercy, we have
weathered the great storm.

Below deck, our quarters
are cold, airless

and moldy with moisture.

Many passengers
are bedded with the fever

and the injuries of the storm.

Captain Jones.

There's something I
should like to say to you.

Thank you, for saving
my husband's life.

You know if I'd had my wits
about me I'd have let him drown.

None the wiser and at least
one the merrier.

I know that. And so,
I must thank you.

Well, you've done it.

October the second.

The days go by each like the
other and it grows difficult

to believe we shall
ever see land again.

At times, it seems that for weeks
we have not moved at all

for there is always
the same horizon

the same cold, pitiless circle.

A son was born today to
the wife of Stephen Hopkins.

He was named Oceanus Hopkins.

Oceanus! Hello!

October the seventh.

Firewood is growing very short.

We have a fire every third day
and cook enough for three days

and eat it cold thereafter.

October the tenth.

The scanty food,
the airless quarters

and the endless damped cold
are taking their toll.

October the 14th.

We've almost forgotten
what it is like to be

without the pangs of hunger.

It is not difficult
to understand

why the children remain sturdy

while their mothers
grow weak and thin.

'Who's there?'

Mr. Coppin's stealing food!

- 'I've been spoilin' for this.'
- We'll teach him.

'Dirty scum.'

Hit a poor sailor lad,
would you?

Coppin!

Get below!

Get below!

Back to your quarters.

October the 29th.

We sail on and on,
South West by West

moving slowly under short sail,
for Captain Jones has been

easing his ship cautiously along

since the breaking of the beam.

He does not dare to move faster.

Yet, there is desperate
need for haste.

For our drinking water is
very low, and there is firewood

enough for only four more days.

The sailors blamed the settlers
for the delays that have

brought us into winter
and short rations.

November the fourth.

Scurvy has begun to show
its hideous symptoms

among passengers
and crew alike.

The seeds of death
have been planted.

In some, hope is dying.

Our firewood is gone
and the water will last

only a few days.

November the sixth.

The lamps in the Captain's
cabin burn late.

He sleeps at odd hours
and holds himself

more and more apart,
a lonely man.

You've come to thank me
again, Mrs. Bradford?

No, I..

Time for lies is over. I know
how it is with you. I know.

You came here half-hoping
to meet me only to pass me

on the deck and see
the need in my face.

'That's what good women
like you feed on.'

But the time
for that is over too.

We've missed
the time for taking.

I have a feeling we're
all doomed, Mrs. Bradford.

Your adventures and your saints

and Bradford with his
frenzy of religion and you

with your sense of duty that
has you bleeding at the soul.

My scurvy-ridden crew
and the empty water casks and..

...last crumbs of food.

And my broken ship.

And my nights alone

with this hunger for you
that will not leave me.

Perhaps, it'll end soon
in the dark sea.

And good riddance to us all.

You're not alone in this.

What makes you think
only you can feel?

Others have known
the hunger you speak of

and have lived to tell of it.

Yes, and never to tell of it.

And one thing more.
I've guessed your secret.

What secret?

That you have a heart.
That there's goodness in you.

And that you'd die
rather than admit it.

You say you know
how it is with me.

Well, my Captain

I know how it is with you.

What you feel
isn't anger and loathing.

It's despair.

Despair because a dream
is about to perish

short of fulfillment.

Because this beauty
is about to be lost.

Wednesday, November the eighth.

We've been at sea for 64 days
since leaving Plymouth

and for 96 since Southampton.

The weather has grown
warmer and the sea gentler

during the past two days.

For these two days

the Captain has scarcely left
his upper deck.

The fog has been heavy
and there has been no wind.

Encouraged by the warmer
weather, a few passengers

have ventured above deck.

What have you there, Sydney?

Look! Sydney found a bird!
A dead bird!

A thrush it is, I think.

A land bird!

King Button.

See what we've brought you.

It's a land bird.

It means we'll soon be seeing
the shores of Virginia.

Poor land bird.

It flew... too far from home.

"We therefore commit the body
of our deceased brother

"William Button, to the deep.

"To be turned into corruption,
looking for the resurrection

of the body when the sea
shall give up her dead."

Ho! Land ho!

Land!

Land ho!

Sail away.

To port to the weather bow.

Starboard tack, Mr. Coppin.

It looks most barren.

Miles of sand.

That spit of sand
is only Cape Cod.

There's a good snug harbor
on the other shore of the bay.

- Is Virginia within the bay?
- We're nowhere near Virginia.

'I've been here before
with the fishing fleets.'

'This is New England, Cape Cod.'

'The Captain will likely put
in here for water and firewood'

'and then sail south
to the Virginia shore.'

I've read the works
of Captain John Smith.

He wrote much of New England.

If this is it

we're still hundreds of miles
north of our destination.

They're coming.

Mr. Clark, have you
locked away their muskets?

Aye, sir.

- Good morning, gentlemen.
- Good morning, Captain Jones.

Sit down.

Ah, Mr. Clark, pull up
a chair for our visitors.

You asked to see me?

We noticed the longboat is being
unshipped, Captain Jones.

Does that mean you're sending a
party ashore for water and fuel?

Aye, that it does.

Is it possible that we maybe
off New England, Captain Jones?

This country's every bit
as good as Virginia.

That strip of land conceals
a very good harbor.

The sooner you
get your shelters built

the better chance
you'll have for survival.

Besides, I can't
risk another hour

of sailing with my ship
in this condition.

'You're suggesting
that we settle here?'

No, I'm not suggesting anything.

I'm telling you this is
where you're gonna settle.

But what of your contract
with the Virginia Company?

This is not the territory of
the merchants who paid our way.

Now, that may well be.
That may well be.

But you would
do well to remember

your leave-taking
of Mr. Weston in Southampton.

He swore he was
cutting you adrift.

You're under no obligation
to him, nor I to you.

I've done my duty.

I have delivered this cargo
of psalm singers

and babies and there's
an end to it.

Explore the other harbor!
I'll stand by while you do it.

In the meantime, I'll
provision and mend my ship.

Then I'll go.

And as for you, Mr. Brewster,
I haven't quite decided

what to do about you. Remember
the constables still want you.

So, if there's any trouble about
this matter of where you'll land

I'll leave here with you
and maybe one or two others

hanging from the yardarm.

I don't know why you brought us
to New England, Captain Jones

when you knew we were
bound for Virginia?

Accident?

You're too good
a navigator for that.

But here we are.

And here we intend to stay.

We decided that before
we entered this cabin.

We're staying not because you're
threatening and bullying us here

for some reason of your own,
but because we want it that way.

This region is better
for us than Virginia.

Because it's not so closely
under the domination

of the King and the Church.

Here, we would have
even more freedom.

Our good reasons don't concern
you, Captain Jones. I know that.

And what your reasons were,
we may never learn.

But let me tell you that if
we had decided to land elsewhere

not all your guns and cutlasses
would have stopped us.

And if you think you can take
Mr. Brewster to England with you

you're mistaken.

We are men well-accustomed
of fighting for our lives.

This you don't know about us.

But what we know of you...
makes us pity you now

for the contemptible weakness
that greets us here with guns.

Call off your dogs.

You laugh too much, Mr. Coppin.

The company
we were pledged to serve

has no rights
in this territory then, none.

Every man can take
as much land as he pleases.

'We'll divide the food
and the gunpowder--'

'We'll take our chances on that.'

We starved and froze for weeks
on end, but we're free now.

I'll trust my own back
to get me my share of livin'.

Give each man his right--

Hopkins, Billington, I beg of
you, hear me. This will not do.

Some form of government
is needed here.

What sort of government?
And into whose pocket?

Wait, Billington.

What is the deadliest danger
we now face?

Hunger, wild beasts, savages?

No.

The deadliest danger
we face is that we may disagree.

That we may each go
grubbing in the wilderness

for himself alone.
And so face quick destruction.

Gentlemen, this is a new world.

It is possible here
to revise old institutions

and to start a new system
of a perfection and excellence

hitherto unknown and to fit
our infant society.

'But until such government
can be devised'

'we must agree
to stand together.'

Let us therefore,
sign this Mayflower Compact

by which we all agree

irrespective of religion
or former condition

to unite in one body politic

and to obey all laws

which would be necessary
for all of us to make.

What say you?

It is this or anarchy.

And anarchy means disaster.

We are not alone in this room.

God is in this room.

For whenever a man goes upward,
he takes another step

towards the fulfillment of the
Godhead that lies within him.

What say, you gentlemen?

'I say, aye.'

Aye. Aye.

Governor John Carver.

William Bradford.

Whether they know it or not

they have laid hold
of great principles

hitherto unrevealed
to the nations of the earth.

They are about to establish
just and equal laws

adopted and administered
by the people.

A government based upon
the will of the governed.

John Alden, a hired man

grateful for the privilege
of signing.

Isaac Allerton.

William Brewster.

Miles Standish.

Samuel Fuller.

Richard Warren.

Stephen Hopkins.

Francis Cooke.

Thomas Rogers.

Edward Fuller.

Francis Eaton.

John Billington.

Christopher Martin.

William Mullins.

William White.

Some are bondslaves,
some cannot write.

But they make their mark
with earnest pride.

James Chilton.

Degory Priest.

Peter Browne.

The Mayflower has been moved

into the harbor of New Plymouth.

Today some of them
are setting out

on a long and hazardous
exploration

to find a place
for a settlement.

They plan to be gone
for several days.

They carry bundles
of beads and mirrors

against the chance
of encountering savages.

In the hearts of those
who remain behind

lies the fear that these
husbands and fathers

may never be seen again.

- Dorothy.
- Yes, William.

Many things have happened
on this voyage

but if this exploration succeeds

there'll be a new world
and a new beginning.

And what happened aboard ship
will be forgotten..

...and forgiven.

I wanted you to know that
before I go.

And I wanted you to know that

you have filled my life
with sweetness.

'Bradford! William Bradford!'

God keep you, William.

Here, at last,
is the beginning.

This lonely boat being beached
on a cold and empty shore.

I do not know if anyone
will ever learn

what was done here today.

But if any of us survives

this day must be remembered
for the courage

of these weavers and hatters

these carpenters,
tailors and tradesmen

shivering in their city
clothes, frightened.

Setting forth
into they know not what.

Holding guns, they scarcely
know how to shoot.

Ragged, foolish-looking
and weak as they are

they have the true
splendor of man.

They'll be safe. They'll return.

Now go to bed.

I heard Captain Jones is gonna
take the Mayflower to England

as soon as the men return
in the longboat.

It can't be true, he can't
leave us without shelter.

That's what he plans to do.

Is there no way
to that man's heart?

I doubt he has one.

You can't take this ship
back to England.

Before we sailed, I made it
clear, that's what I must do.

If you remain
until our shelters are built

some may live out this winter.

If you go, they'll die,
every last one of them.

They chose to die.
I warned them.

I ask you to stay.

And I ask you to come back
to England with me.

This is no place for you.

What do you know
of building new worlds?

I had no dream of a new world,
make no mistake.

But here or there

my place is beside
William Bradford.

No.

This is where you belong.

Here.

Dear heaven, forgive me.

- No.
- We'll sail away together.

No.

What else is there?
To be in love--

- There is more. William.
- I'll tell him, I'll tell him.

No.

There's nothing between you two.

There's much between us two.

The years, the understanding.

He feels more
than he ever shows.

My feeling for him
runs deeper than you know.

This is wrong.

It's just as wrong living
beside him thinking of me.

I know.

And yet I could never be happy

in a runaway life with you,
remembering him.

You can't go back to him.

You'll never
belong to him again.

That I know too.

And so I'm lost

somewhere between you.

Let me go now.

Let me think upon it.

Let me go.

We found it. A perfect harbor.
Sheltered and warm.

The ground is still soft even in
December. And a good rich soil.

It's a sheltered harbor with a
huge rock rising from the water.

It's the very place that
John Smith called New Plymouth.

There's a hill which rises thus
and there's a good stream here.

We can build our fort
on the hill and our settlement

along the stream. There's
a plentiful supply of lumber.

There's signs of wild game,
there's e..

William..

Three nights ago,
the night you left.

Not of her own free will.

She would not have broken
God's command.

We can only believe she fell
overboard when no one was about.

Captain Jones

the men wanted me to ask again

how much longer do we stay here?

The ships ready to sail,
there's no gold here.

Nothing but beavers, clams and
sickness. The crew's had enough.

They've taken the sickness
from the settlers.

Lung fever is beginning
to spread.

They'll get out of hand, sir.
When do we sail?

Let 'em die.

The whole unlawful blasphemin'

look-down-their-nose lot of 'em.

You wasn't worried when you took
Weston's money to drop 'em here.

What makes you
side with 'em now?

Looking into your face
and looking into theirs.

Stay then. Stay behind
with your friends.

Look into their melee faces.
We're going home.

We've had enough! We're taking
the Mayflower out of here.

Now, who else threatens mutiny?

Clear the decks,
get back to your posts.

April the fourth.

The winter is over,
the land is abloom

and nature's bleak face
has begun to smile again.

Of the 102 who landed here,
56 remained.

Six died in December

eight in January, seventeen
in February, thirteen in March

all taken by the sickness.

A combination of scurvy
and lung fever.

But now this plague is over

and our hopes are high
for the future.

The Indians have proved
gentle, poor, friendly

and often hungry like us.

If only in this, we're fortunate

in having settled
here in New England

for in Virginia,
the Indians are murderous

with hate for the white man.

And all these months

Captain Jones has kept
his Mayflower standing by

providing us with shelter

and comfort
during the long winter

until our homes were built.

Without her, we'd have
perished. All of us.

We, who through God's mercy,
have survived the sickness

have gathered to say farewell
to Captain Christopher Jones

who sails tomorrow for England.

We wish this token could
be a thing of greater value.

But there is nothing
of much value on this shore

save, perhaps, what we hold
in our hearts for this man.

To Christopher Jones,
master of the Mayflower

whose fidelities sustained us
and kept us alive

during our first winter
on the shores of America.

We give our thanks
and our friendship

unto eternity.

This scroll is inscribed
with the names of all.

Even our latest settler

'Master Peregrine White.'

I-I have spoken
with your leaders

and... and we have
an offer to make to you.

Uh, any of you who wishes
to return to England

I shall carry you back.

My ship will be travelling
on short rations.

The food will be scarce

but probably no scarcer
than it will be here

until your crops are harvested.

So... if any who wish to go
will appear at dawn

on Plymouth Rock

you will be taken aboard.

I wish you all good fortune.

And I wanna thank you
for what you have taught me.

The growth of the human spirit

brings it closer
to all living beings.

I was alone.

Now, I am with my fellows.

There's something I must tell
you. I'll be brief about it.

- I loved her.
- I knew that.

There's something
you may not know.

She loved you in a way
she never loved me.

A way which I didn't
understand then.

And she never betrayed you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Do you realize the wonder of it?

That a handful of sick and dying
men have built that settlement

and now not one has appeared

asking for passage
back to England.

I'm glad we didn't
disappoint you.

'I suspected you too
were on a pilgrimage'

'whether you knew it or not.'

'Searching for what?'

'A glimmer of hope...
for your discouraged heart.'

I can see the sails.

Two, then five, then fleets
of them, come here to join you.

I'll be among them.

I must go.

God be with you.

Fire a salute...
for the living and the dead.

Aye, sir.