CHAPTER X

IF ADMIRAL PENN HAD PERSISTED IN DISOWNING HIS SON WILLIAM

When an English father, irascible and opinionated, disowns and turns out

of doors a son who has not only disobeyed him but proved false to the

traditions and obvious interests of the family, he is very apt to adhere

to his action. A very great deal turned upon a case, once, in which an

English father, after making a very firm show of disowning his son, at

last relented and took him back to his heart.

Pennsylvania, to wit, turned upon it; and all the amazing success of

William Penn's great experiment in colonization. There has never been

anything quite like that success in the world's history, for the great

trek of the already established American population in the nineteenth

century was a readjustment, an extension, rather than a colonization in

the true sense. The planting of Pennsylvania was a true colonization.

Not only did it amount to the creation of a great and model

commonwealth, full-fledged, with a composite new-world population, in

twenty or even ten years' time, but it furnished the keystone to the

arch of states that constituted the American republic in the next

century after Penn's settlement.

Philadelphia led the American towns in the seven years of the

Revolution. It was their capital commercially as well as politically. It

supplied most of the sinews of war. Without Robert Morris's $1,400,000,

all of which came from Philadelphia, the final and crucial campaign of

the war could not have been fought. More than that, without just the

sort of commonwealth that Pennsylvania had already become, standing in

the center of things--cosmopolitan, independent of royalist or

aristocratic influence, populous, well-to-do, democratic, steady--it is

hard to see how the Revolution could have been undertaken at all.

But for the incident which permitted Penn's settlement, the vast

territory which afterward constituted Pennsylvania would have become

merely an extension of New York, or of New Jersey, or of Maryland, or of

Virginia, or of all of them. The chances are that its resources would

have been exploited by slave labor. The greater part of the state might

have remained slave territory up to 1861. In any case its development

would have been much more slow, its peopling much less rapid. Not only

must Indian wars have checked growth, but the spectacle of the arrival

of five hundred thousand stalwart Germans, the creation of the largest

city in the colonies within fifty years, and the upbuilding, in that

time, of a trade from the Delaware River that employed more than five

hundred ships and seven thousand sailors, could never have been

presented.

The part which Pennsylvania began to play from the moment of Penn's

arrival, and which it still plays, in American affairs, was directly

dependent upon Penn's character and genius, and, for a long time, upon

his wealth and social position. Without the wealth which William Penn

inherited from his father, Admiral Sir William Penn, he could not have

organized his Pennsylvania Society, nor bought the site of Philadelphia.

Without the position, as well as the wealth, which he inherited, he

could not, in the first place, have aspired to the acquaintance with and

confidence of King Charles II; and these were absolutely essential to

the extraordinary charter, in behalf of a despised and distrusted

people, which Penn received at the king's hands.

Had Penn always been in this favorable position? We shall see. The

admiral, his father, was a good churchman and a conservative man. King

Charles held him in very high estimation. The son was brilliant, and of

noble character. He was sent to Oxford University; and what was the

father's astonishment, after the boy had been there some little time, to

hear that he had joined the despised and persecuted sect of the Quakers!

This was very much as if, at the present day, the son and heir of a

great multi-millionaire should join, not merely the Socialists, but the

Anarchists at Paterson!

Sir William raved and scolded. The son only grew more firm in the faith.

Sir William endured much; but finding the young man actually inclined to

address the king as "thou," he told him that if he committed this

impropriety, or "thee-ed" and "thoued" either him, the admiral, or the

Duke of York, he would disown him, and cut him off without a shilling.

On the very first opportunity after this, young William addressed King

Charles as "thou!" The king, having a more than royal sense of humor,

made a jest of the matter, but Sir William did not. He was as good as

his word. He turned his son out of doors, and bade him begone. The youth

went abroad, and took up for a time a very much discredited existence.

He had already been expelled from the university.

Here, for a time, the fate of Pennsylvania certainly trembled in the

balance. It was quite within the outraged admiral's power to make the

ban permanent. If he had done so, there would never have been a

Quaker-German commonwealth in America.

It is known that the son accepted his banishment as permanent. But his

mother did not. She pleaded with the father for his forgiveness. She

reminded him of the boy's great natural goodness, his brilliancy, his

affectionateness. He would, Lady Penn maintained, recover from his

distemper of Quakerism. She begged her husband, before it was too late,

to relent and recall him.

At length, moved by this appeal and the promptings of his own heart, the

admiral called the young man home. Once or twice afterwards he was on

the point of a more radical banishment of him. But, fortunately for the

New World, Sir William's heart was soft after all. The son was

reestablished in his good graces. After the admiral's death, in 1670, it

was found that he had bequeathed all his wealth to the son, and, owing

to the son's influence, the Quakers improved their position not a

little, and in due time Penn organized and put through the Pennsylvania

experiment. But King Charles took good care to inform him that the name

"Pennsylvania," officially bestowed on the colony, was not in honor of

the founder, but in compliment to the admiral, his father.

Narrow as this contingency may have been, since so great an event

depended on the impulse of one man, it was after all a moral

contingency, and not due of physical accident, as so many others have

been. It is the more impressive for this reason. It is good to know that

a few heartbeats the more, in the breast of a man who can be kind as

well as hot-tempered, may create a mighty empire.

The Ifs of History · 第 10 / 22 章