The records of the Court of the “Council” show, that “as soon as it would do,” and when his absence would tend to lull suspicion as to the parts played, Captain Jones’s noble patrons took steps to secure for him due recognition and compensation for his services, from the parties who were to benefit directly, with themselves, by his knavery.  The records read: 

“July 17, 1622.  A motion was made in the behaffe of Captaine Thomas Jones, Captaine of the discovery, nowe employed in Virginia for trade and fishinge [it proved, apparently, rather to be piracy], that he may be admitted a freeman in this Companie in reward of the good service he hath there [Virginia in general] performed.  The Court liked well of the motion and condiscended thereunto.”  The discovery left London at the close of November, 1621.  She arrived at Jamestown, Virginia, in April, 1622.  She reached Plymouth, New England, in August, 1622.  Her outward voyage was not, so far as can be learned, eventful, or entitled to especial consideration or recognition, and the good store of English trading-goods she still had on hand—­as Governor Bradford notices—­on her arrival at Plymouth indicates no notable success up to that time, in the way of a trading-voyage, while “fishing” is not mentioned.  For piracy, in which she was later more successful, she had then had neither time nor opportunity.  The conclusion is irresistible, that “the good service” recognized by the vote recorded was of the past (he had sailed only the may-Flower voyage for the “Council” before), and that this recognition was a part of the compensation previously agreed upon, if, in the matter of the may-Flower voyage, Captain Jones did as he was bidden.  Thus much of the crafty Master of the may-Flower, Captain Thomas Jones,—­his Christian name and identity both apparently beyond dispute, —­whom we first know in the full tide of his piratical career, in the corsair Lion in Eastern seas; whom we next find as a prisoner in London for his misconduct in the East, but soon Master of the cattle-ship Falcon on her Virginia voyage; whom we greet next—­and best—­as Admiral of the Pilgrim fleet, commander of the destiny freighted may-Flower, and though a conspirator with nobles against the devoted band he steered, under the overruling hand of their Lord God, their unwitting pilot to “imperial labors” and mighty honors, to the founding of empire, and to eternal Peace; whom we next meet—­fallen, “like Lucifer, never to hope again” —­as Captain of the little buccaneer,—­the discovery, disguised as a trading-ship, on the Virginian and New England coasts; and lastly, in charge of his leaking prize, a Spanish frigate in West Indian waters, making his way—­death-stricken—­into the Virginia port of Jamestown, where (July, 1625), he “cast anchor” for the last time, dying, as we first found him, a pirate, to whom it had meantime been given to “minister unto saints.”