In 1681 William Penn, a man of convictions, who, with other Quakers, had
suffered persecution on account of his religious convictions, obtained a
charter with proprietary rights, for a large tract of American territory.
Geographically its position was nearly central as regards the original
colonies, but at first somewhat indefinitely bounded. In the final
adjustment of colonial limits it was made a regular parallelogram, a
small addition being made to give access to Lake Erie, and a good harbor.
The average length is 310 miles; the width, 160 miles. In naming his
territory the proprietor modestly omitted any allusion to himself. He
suggested Sylvania, because of the extensive and almost unbroken forest.
The clerk prefixed “Penn.” From this he appealed to the king, who decided
the prefix should be retained; but, as a relief to the wounded modesty of
the Quaker, said it would be in honor of the Admiral, his friend, and the
deceased father of William. For whomever the compliment was intended, the
citizens of the commonwealth have always liked the name.
The liberal plan for the government of West New Jersey, previously
drawn up by Penn, was adopted, and the colonists encouraged to govern
themselves. The powers conferred on him personally were never used in
selfishness, or to advance his personal interests, but only to further
the complete establishment of freedom, justice, and the best interests of
the people.
To the Swedes and others who had settled within his territory before
he took possession, he introduced himself in a way so conciliatory and
assuring that their friendship was at once won. His first message as
governor was an admirable document—plain, honest, sensible in its every
utterance. Its brevity allows it to be printed in full. “My friends, I
wish you all happiness here and hereafter. These words are to let you
know that it hath pleased God, in his providence, to cast you in my lot
and care. It is a business that though I never undertook before, yet God
hath given me an understanding of my duty, and an honest heart to do it
uprightly. I hope you will not be troubled at your change and the king’s
choice; for you are now fixed at the mercy of no governor that comes to
make his fortune great. You shall be governed by laws of your own making,
and live a free, and if you will, a sober, industrious people.…”
Before the proprietor’s arrival, with three shiploads of Quaker
colonists, his deputy, as instructed, had respected the rights of all
the settlers, of whatever nationality or religious faith, and had been
specially careful to cultivate friendly relations, and form treaties
with the Indian tribes located in or near the territory. The offers
of friendship, honestly made, were received in the same kindly spirit
that prompted them, and neither fraud nor violence was feared. Not long
after Penn came, a general council was called of the chiefs and sachems,
anxious to see him of whom they had heard, and whose promises, reported
to them, they had believed. He met them, with a few friends, unarmed as
they all were, and spoke kind words by an interpreter.
It was not his object to purchase lands, or to lay down rules to govern
them in trading, but honestly to assure the untutored children of the
forest of his friendly purposes and brotherly affection.
The covenant then made, not written with ink, nor confirmed by any oath,
was sacredly kept. No deed of violence or injustice ever marred the peace
or interrupted the friendly relations of the parties. For more than
seventy years, during which time the province remained under the control
of the Friends, the peace was unbroken. Not a war-whoop was heard, nor
any hostile demonstration witnessed in Pennsylvania.
In December, 1682, a convention was held of three days’ continuance, and
all needful provision made for territorial legislation.
The generous concessions of the proprietor harmonized the views of the
assembly, and the results of the convention were eminently satisfactory.
After a month’s absence, during which there was a visit to the
Chesapeake, and an amicable conference with Lord Baltimore, about the
boundaries of their respective provinces, Penn returned, and busied
himself in locating and making a plot of his proposed capital. The
beautiful neck between the Schuylkill and Delaware was wisely chosen; the
land purchased of the Swedes, who had begun a settlement there, and map
of the city provided. Three or four cabins were the only dwellings on the
site, and the lines of the streets were indicated by marks on the trees.
Thus in the woods was founded Philadelphia, the City of Brotherly Love.
From the inception of his American enterprise, Penn showed himself
a true philanthropist, not seeking his own aggrandizement, but the
good of others. The oppressed and persecuted trusted him and were
not disappointed. He promised them freedom, the love of which was a
master passion with him, and the charter of their liberties dated at
Philadelphia, and adopted by the first General Assembly, was even more
generous than they expected. He conceded all the rights of legislation
to the representatives of the people, reserving for himself only the
right to veto any hasty and objectionable enactments of the council.
His administration as executive met with much favor, and the tide of
prosperity was for years unabated. Such was the condition of affairs
in Pennsylvania when King James II. abdicated his throne. Penn, being
a friend of the Stuarts, and having received his liberal charter from
Charles II., sympathized with the fallen monarch, and, though loyal,
had less confidence in William and Mary. For his sympathy and supposed
adherence to the cause of the exiled king, he was persecuted, several
times arrested and cast into prison. But investigations showed the
suspicions of disloyalty unfounded; and his rights, so unjustly and to
the great grief of his colonists, wrested from him, were fully restored.
The new sovereign was a Catholic, and his fellow-communicants, like
other dissenters from the Establishment, had suffered much. His anxiety
to restore to them all the immunities of citizenship disposed him to
listen to the logic and eloquence of the accomplished Quaker, who boldly
contended for the toleration of all creeds, and the unlimited freedom of
conscience. His influence during these years, in keeping up the tide of
immigration to America, and especially to Pennsylvania, was something
wonderful.
In 1699 he again visited his American colony, now grown into a state—the
increase in population and all the resources of a prosperous community
far exceeding his expectations.
In 1701, having carefully and satisfactorily arranged all his affairs
in America, Penn bade a final adieu to his many friends, and returned
to England. He left them, largely through the influence of his teaching
and example and spirit, at peace among themselves and with all their
neighbors.
About this time a measure was proposed in England that, if passed, would
seriously affect the colonists in all parts of the country. The ministers
formed the design of abolishing all the proprietary estates, with the
view of establishing royal governments in their stead. The presence of
Penn was greatly needed in England to prevent the success of this scheme,
and not without much effort was the purpose defeated. It required a man
of power and influence in the king’s court to do it. From this time
the government, though still in Penn’s right, was administered by his
deputies, some of whom disappointed him. John Evans, an ambitious man,
and not true to the peace principles of the Friends, greatly troubled the
province by purchasing military equipments, and attempting to organize
a regiment of militia. The council and citizens protested so strongly
against his proceedings as irreconcilable with the policy of Penn, that
Evans was removed from the office, and another appointed. His charge to
the deputies appointed had been, “You are come to a quiet land; rule
for him under whom the princes of this world will one day esteem it an
honor to govern in their places.” Those who heeded the charge had peace
and prosperity in their borders. As proprietor of his vast possessions
in America, Penn was not faultless; but his mistakes bore an amiable
character. Conscious of his own integrity and freedom from cupidity,
he placed too much confidence in the untried virtue of others, and
exposed inferior men in the way of temptation to dishonesty that they
were not able to resist. The rascality of his agent, Ford, whose false
accounts involved the honest proprietor in debt to a large amount, well
nigh accomplished his financial ruin. He was imprisoned, and after weary
months of confinement was released by influential friends, who compounded
with the creditors in whose power the crafty agent had placed him.
The simplicity of his Quaker habits and enthusiasm for religion seemed
inconsistent with his great influence in the corrupt court of the king,
and he was suspected of acting a double part—was thrice arrested, charged
with treasonable intentions, and as often acquitted. But the strain
was too great. His natural force abated, and the infirmities of age
came on him rapidly. His acquittal, and the complete vindication of his
character cast a bright light on the clouds, and its radiance gave a kind
relief for the six years of feebleness and suffering that remained after
life’s mission seemed mostly accomplished. The attacks of enemies and
contemporary rivals are more readily condoned. But the abortive attempt
of Lord Macaulay to asperse the character of the deceased governor, whose
enterprise in the New World eclipsed all others, reflects little honor on
the name of the great historian. Certainly the great Quaker’s record on
this side of the Atlantic can never be tarnished, and his principles of
liberty and equality are better understood and appreciated by American
freemen.
The colonial possessions of Penn were bequeathed to his three sons, by
whom, and their deputies, the government was administered until the
American Revolution. Afterward, in 1779, the entire claim of the Penn
family to the soil and jurisdiction of the state, was purchased by the
legislature for a hundred and thirty thousand pounds sterling. The early
history of the Keystone state is one of special interest and pleasure.
The reader lingers over it because it recounts bloodless victories, and
the triumph of kindness and right over violence and wrong.
When nations grow mercenary and grasping, the strong justifying their
aggressions and conquests by the false plea that success, and the
probable hereafter of the conquered races justify their assaults, the
early annals of Penn’s state will stand a perpetual protest against
fraud and violence, however successful for a time. Might does not make
right, even when the highest civilization confronts the lowest barbarism.
Even savages had rights that the most cultured Englishmen were bound to
respect.
The brotherhood of man includes those of lowest estate. So thought the
founder of the great state that bears his name. With his charter in
hand he fearlessly plunged into the vast wilderness, saying, “I will
here found a free colony for all mankind.” The words had the true ring,
and the asylum was opened for men of every nation who loved liberty and
hated the oppressor’s wrongs. And it was a most fitting thing that the
“bells of his capital should ring out the first glad notes of American
independence.”