William Penn, the celebrated founder of Pennsylvania, was born in
London on the 14th of October, 1644. He was the only son of Sir
William Penn, a naval commander of distinction, first during the
Protectorate of Cromwell, and afterwards in the service of Charles the
II, from whom he received the honor of knighthood. His health having
suffered from his active duties, Admiral Penn retired from service in
1666, although then only in the forty-fifth year of his age. His wife,
the mother of William Penn, was the daughter of a merchant in
Rotterdam.
Penn received his preliminary education at Chigwell, in Essex, near
his father’s country residence. From Chigwell school he was removed,
at twelve years of age, to a private academy in London; and having
made great progress in all the usual branches of education, he was
entered, at the age of fifteen years, as a gentleman commoner at
Christ-church, Oxford. At college he is said to have been remarkable
not more for his sedateness and attention to study, than for his
extreme fondness for all athletic sports. His first bias, too, towards
the opinions of that religious sect of which he became afterwards so
distinguished an ornament, the Society of Friends, was produced at
this period of his life. It was the effect of the preaching of one
Thomas Loe, once a member of the university of Oxford, but who had
embraced the doctrines of the Quakers, and was now a zealous
propagator of the same.
Serious and thoughtful from his childhood, young Penn was strongly
impressed by the views of religious truth which Loe inculcated; and
the consequence was, that he and a few of his fellow-students who had
been similarly affected, began to absent themselves from the
established worship of the university, and to hold private meetings
among themselves for devotional purposes. For this breach of the
college rules a fine was imposed upon them by the authorities of the
university. Neither Penn nor his associates were cured of their
disposition to nonconformity by this act of severity; they still
continued to hold their private meetings, and naturally became more
zealous in their views as they saw those views prohibited and
discountenanced. Their zeal soon manifested itself in an act of riot.
An order having been sent down to Oxford by Charles II that the
surplice should be worn by the students, as was customary in ancient
times, Penn and his companions were so roused by what they conceived a
return to popish observances, that, not content with disobeying the
order themselves, they attacked those students who appeared in the
obnoxious surplices, and tore them off their backs. So flagrant an
outrage on college discipline could not be allowed to pass without
severe punishment, and accordingly Penn and several of his companions
were expelled. As may be conceived, Admiral Penn was by no means
pleased when his son returned home with the stigma attached to him of
having been expelled from college; nor was he more satisfied when he
learned the cause. Himself untroubled with any such religious scruples
as those which his son professed, he could not make any allowance for
them, but, on the contrary, insisted that he should give them up, and
live as any young gentleman of good family and loyal principles might
be expected to do. The young man meeting his father’s remonstrances
with arguments in self-defense, the hasty old admiral turned him out
of doors.
Through his mother’s intercession a reconciliation soon took place;
and the admiral determined, as the best means of finishing his son’s
education, and possibly of curing him of what he considered his
over-religiousness, to send him to spend a year or two in France. Penn
accordingly left England in 1662, and was absent on the continent till
1664. On his return to England, his father was much pleased to find
him so polished in demeanor and manners, and did not doubt but his
intention in sending him abroad had been in a great measure fulfilled.
By his advice Penn became a student of Lincoln’s Inn, where he
continued till 1666, when his father sent him over to Ireland to
manage his pretty extensive estates in the county of Cork. In this
commission he conducted himself entirely to his father’s satisfaction,
residing sometimes on the estates themselves, sometimes in Dublin,
where he had the advantage of mixing in the society attending the
court of the Duke of Ormond, lord-lieutenant of Ireland, and his
father’s friend. While attending to his business in Ireland, however,
a circumstance befell him, which might have induced his father to have
acted differently, could he have foreseen it. Being accidentally one
day in Cork, he heard that Thomas Loe, the person whose preaching had
so deeply affected him at Oxford, was to address a meeting of Quakers
in that city. Penn could not think of losing the opportunity of again
seeing and hearing his old friend, and accordingly he entered the
place where Loe was to preach. He took his seat, and had waited for a
few minutes, when the preacher rose, and commenced his sermon with the
following striking words:――‘There is a faith which overcometh the
world; and there is a faith which is overcome by the world.’ The
words, and the sermon which they introduced, seemed adapted to his own
case. Had not his faith been one which had been overcome by the world?
and was it not, therefore, a weak, poor, and useless thing? Such was
the force of this reflection, strengthened as it was by intercourse
with Loe, that he resolved from that day to devote himself to the
service of religion, and to adhere to the sect whose principles he
respected most. In short, from that time Penn became a professed
Quaker.
Nonconformity in religious observances was at that time somewhat
dangerous. In Scotland, a religious persecution was fiercely raging;
and although in other parts of the kingdom the spirit of bigotry on
the part of the government did not manifest itself to the same extent,
yet everywhere throughout Great Britain and Ireland dissenters were
subject to grievous annoyances; and it was in the power of any
meddlesome or narrow-minded person to point to numerous persecuting
laws existing in the statute-book, and to demand that they should be
put in force against them. Accordingly, William Penn soon paid the
price of his conscientiousness. Making it a point, ever after his
meeting with Loe, to attend the religious assemblies of the Quakers in
preference to those of the Established Church, he was apprehended,
along with eighteen others, on the 3d of September 1667, and carried
before the mayor of Cork, charged with transgressing the act against
tumultuous assemblies passed seven years before. The mayor, perceiving
Penn to be a gentlemen, offered him his liberty on condition that he
would give security for his good behavior in future; but Penn refused
to comply with this condition, and was therefore committed to prison
with the others. From prison he addressed a letter to the Earl of
Orrery, then lord president of Munster, and a friend probably of
Admiral Penn, requesting his inteference to procure the release of
himself and his companions. The earl immediately ordered the release
of Penn; the others, it would appear, however, were permitted to
remain in prison.
Meanwhile some friend of the family, resident in Ireland, had conveyed
to the admiral the unwelcome intelligence that his son had joined the
Quakers. Without any delay the old man summoned his son home; and
their first interview was a stormy one. The admiral at length, finding
that his son had become a confirmed Quaker, and losing hope of moving
him further, only stipulated that the youth should consent to depart
so far from the customs of his sect, as to take off his hat in the
presence of the king, the Duke of York, and himself! After a violent
struggle between filial affection and religious convictions, William
announced that he could not agree even to this limited amount of hat
worship, and was again turned out of doors.
Thus driven out into the world, and disqualified by his previous
education for earning his livelihood by any ordinary profession, Penn
would have fared badly, had not his mother, without the admiral’s
knowledge, kept up a communication with him, and supplied him with
money out of her own purse. Not long afterwards, being now in the
twenty-fourth year of his age, he began to preach at meetings of those
who, like himself, had embraced the tenets of the Quakers. About the
same time, too, he commenced his career as a polemical pamphleteer――a
character which he kept up till his dying day, having in the course of
his life published an immense number of controversial pamphlets in
defense of his sect and of religious liberty in general. The title of
his first work, published in 1668, was as follows:――‘Truth Exalted, in
a short but sure Testimony against all those Religions, Faiths, and
Worships, that have been formed and followed in the darkness of
Apostacy; and for that Glorious Light which is now risen, and shines
forth in the Life and Doctrine of the despised Quakers, as the alone
good old way of Life and Salvation.’ To account for the somewhat
bombastic appearance of this title, as well as for much in the conduct
of William Penn and other early Quakers, which might otherwise seem
difficult to explain, it must be mentioned that the early Quakers
differed considerably from the modern Society of Friends with respect
to the ideas which they entertained regarding the importance of their
own sect. George Fox, William Penn, and the early Quakers in general,
regarded Quakerism as a ‘glorious light’――a new dispensation, destined
to abrogate existing forms of faith, and restore Christianity to its
primitive purity. Hence their sanguine mode of speaking concerning
their own mode of faith; hence their extraordinary exertions to make
proselytes; and hence that activity, and even restlessness in society,
which distinguished the early Quakers from their modern successors.
William Penn was a great accession to the sect whose views he had
adopted. Both by the publication of pamphlets and by public debates,
he endeavored to make an impression in favor of the Quakers. One of
his publications, a pamphlet, called ‘The Sandy Foundation Shaken,’
gave so much offense to some of the established clergy, and especially
to the bishop of London, that Penn was apprehended, and sent as a
prisoner to the Tower. During his imprisonment here, which lasted
seven months, he wrote his ‘No Cross, no Crown,’ one of the most
popular of all his works; the leading idea of it being, ‘that unless
men are willing to lead a life of self-denial, and to undergo
privations and hardships in the course of their Christian warfare;
that is, unless they are willing to bear the cross, they can not
become capable of wearing the crown――the crown namely, of eternal
glory.’ At length Penn was discharged by an order from the king, who
was probably moved to this act of leniency by his brother, the Duke of
York, Admiral Penn’s friend.
The admiral by this time was disposed to be reconciled to his son,
whose constancy to his opinions he could not help admiring,
notwithstanding that he had no predilection for the opinions
themselves. Partly to keep him out of harm’s way, he sent him a second
time on a mission of business to Ireland. While dutifully fulfilling
the business on which he had been sent, Penn employed a great part of
his time in Ireland in preaching and writing tracts in favor of
Quakerism. He likewise visited many poor persons of his sect who were
suffering imprisonment for their fidelity to their convictions; and,
by means of his representations and his influence he was able to
procure from the lord-lieutenant the discharge of several of them. On
his return to England he was kindly received by his father, and took
up his abode once more in the paternal mansion.
The spirit of intolerance had, in the meantime, become more rampant in
the government; and in 1670, parliament passed the famous act against
conventicles, by which it was attempted to crush nonconformity in
England. The Quakers of course were visited with the full severity of
the act; and William Penn was one of its first victims. Proceeding one
day to the place of meeting, which he attended in Gracechurch Street,
he found the door guarded by a party of soldiers, who prevented him
from entering. Others of the congregation coming up, gathered round
the door, forming, with the chance loiterers, who were attracted by
curiosity, a considerable crowd. Penn began to address them; but had
hardly begun his discourse when he and another Quaker named William
Mead, who was standing near him, were seized by the constables, who
were already provided with warrants, for the purpose, signed by the
lord mayor, and conveyed to Newgate, whence they were brought to trial
at the Old Bailey sessions on the 3d of September, 1670. As this trial
was really very important, we shall detail the proceedings at some
length. The justices present on the bench on this occasion were Sir
Samuel Starling, lord mayor of London; John Howel, recorder; five
aldermen and three sheriffs. The jury consisted, as usual, of twelve
men, whose names deserve to be held in honor for the noble manner in
which they performed their duty. When the prisoners Penn and Mead
entered the court they had their hats on, according to the custom of
their sect. One of the officers of the court instantly pulled them
off. On this the lord mayor became furious, and ordered the man to
replace the hats on the heads of the prisoners, which was no sooner
done, than the recorder fined them forty marks each for contempt of
court in wearing their hats in presence of the bench. The trial then
proceeded. Witnesses were called to prove that, on the 15th of August
last, the prisoners had addressed a meeting of between three and four
hundred persons in Gracechurch Street. Penn admitted that he and his
friend were present on the occasion referred to, but contended that
they had met to worship God according to their own conscience, and
that they had a right to do so. One of the sheriffs here observed that
they were there not for worshipping God, but for breaking the law.
‘What law?’ asked Penn. ‘The common law,’ replied the recorder. Penn
insisted on knowing what law that was; but was checked by the bench,
who called him ‘a saucy fellow.’ ‘The question is,’ said the recorder
at length, ‘whether you are guilty of this indictment.’ ‘The
question,’ replied Penn, ‘is _not_ whether I am guilty of this
indictment, but whether this indictment be legal. It is too general
and imperfect an answer to say it is the common law, unless we know
where and what it is; for where there is no law, there is no
transgression; and that law which is not in being, is so far from
being common that it is no law at all.’ Upon which the recorder
retorted, ‘You are an impertinent fellow, sir. Will you teach the
court what law is? It is _lex non scripta_; that which many have
studied thirty or forty years to know, and would you have me tell you
in a moment?’ Penn immediately answered, ‘Certainly, if the common law
be so hard to be understood, it is far from being very common; but if
Lord Coke in his Institutes be of any consideration, he tells us that
common law is common right, and that common right is the great charter
privileges confirmed.’ ‘Sir,’ interrupted the recorder, ‘you are a
troublesome fellow, and it is not to the honor of the court to suffer
you to go on.’ ‘I have asked but one question,’ said Penn, ‘and you
have not answered me, though the rights and privileges of every
Englishman are concerned in it.’ ‘If,’ said the recorder, ‘I should
suffer you to ask questions till to-morrow morning, you would be never
the wiser.’ ‘That,’ replied the imperturable Penn, ‘is _according as
the answers are_.’ After some further conversation, or rather
altercation, the mayor and recorder became enraged. ‘Take him away,
take him away,’ they cried to the officers of the court; ‘turn him
into the bale dock.’ This order was obeyed, Penn protesting as he was
removed, that it was contrary to all law for the judge to deliver the
charge to the jury in the absence of the prisoners. But now a second
contest commenced――a contest between the bench and the jury. The
latter, after being sent out of court to agree upon their verdict,
unanimously returned the following one――‘Guilty of _speaking_ in
Gracechurch Street.’ The bench refused to receive this verdict; and
after reproaching the jury, sent them back for half an hour to
reconsider it. At the end of the half hour the court again met, and
the prisoners having been brought in, the jury delivered precisely the
same verdict as before, only this time they gave it in writing, with
all their names attached. The court upon this became furious; and the
recorder addressing the jury, said, ‘Gentlemen, you shall not be
dismissed until we have such a verdict as the court will accept; and
you shall be locked up without meat, drink, fire, and tobacco. You
shall not think thus to abuse the court; we will have a verdict by the
help of God, or you shall starve for it!’ On this Penn stood up and
said: ‘My jury, who are my judges, ought not to be thus menaced; their
verdict should be free, and not compelled; the bench ought to wait
upon them and not to forestall them. I do desire that justice may be
done me, and that the arbitrary resolves of the bench may not be made
the measure of my jury’s verdict.’ The court then adjourned, the jury,
including one who complained of ill health, being locked up without
food, fire, or drink. Next morning, on being brought in, they still
returned the same verdict. They were violently reproached and
threatened; and the recorder even forgot himself so far as to say that
‘he had never till now understood the policy and prudence of the
Spaniards in suffering the Inquisition among them; and that certainly
it would never be well in England till something like the Spanish
Inquisition were established there.’ The jury were again locked up
without food, drink, tobacco, or fire, for twenty-four hours. On the
third day, the natural and glorious effect of this brutality on the
minds of Englishmen was produced. In place of the indirect acquittal
contained in their former verdict, they now, with one voice,
pronounced the prisoners ‘Not guilty!’ Upon some paltry legal pretense
they were all fined for their contumacy, and sent to prison till the
fine should be paid. Penn himself was shut up till he should pay the
mulct for contempt of court. This he would not do; but his father, it
is thought, laid down the money for him, and he was liberated.
Penn’s father dying immediately after his liberation, left him a clear
estate of £1500 a-year――a considerable property in those days. The old
man had by this time been brought to regard his son’s conduct in a
more favorable light than he had done at first; and one of his dying
advices to him was, to ‘suffer nothing in this world to tempt him to
wrong his conscience.’
For twelve months after his father’s death Penn proceeded as before,
preaching habitually at meetings of persons of his own persuasion,
writing tracts and treatises in defense of Quakerism, and on other
theological and political topics, among which was an account of the
recent trial of himself and Mead, and engaging also in oral
controversy with several dissenting preachers who had inveighed
against the Quakers from their pulpits. His activity soon brought him
into fresh trouble. Towards the end of the year 1671, he was again
apprehended on the charge of preaching to an illegal assembly, and
brought before Sir John Robinson, lieutenant of the Tower, who was one
of his judges on the former trial. Sir Samuel Starling was also
present. Unable to convict the prisoner on the conventicle act, Sir
John, who was resolved not to let him escape, adopted another plan,
and required him to take the oath of allegiance to the king, well
knowing that, as it was contrary to the principles of the Quakers to
take an oath at all, he would refuse, and thereby subject himself to
imprisonment. ‘I vow, Mr. Penn,’ said Sir John Robinson, on his
refusal, ‘I am sorry for you. You are an ingenious gentleman; all the
world must allow you, and do allow you that; and you have a plentiful
estate; why should you render yourself unhappy by associating with
such a simple people?’ ‘I confess,’ said Penn in reply, ‘I have made
it my choice to relinquish the company of those that are ingeniously
wicked, to converse with those that are more honestly simple.’ ‘I wish
you wiser!’ said Sir John. ‘And I wish thee better!’ replied Penn.
‘You have been as bad as other folks,’ observed the judge? ‘When and
where?’ cried Penn, his blood rising at this accusation of hypocrisy.
‘I charge thee to tell the company to my face.’ ‘Abroad and at home
too,’ said Sir John. Penn, indignant at this ungenerous taunt,
exclaimed, ‘I make this bold challenge to all men, women, and children
upon earth, justly to accuse me with having seen me drunk, heard me
swear, or speak one obscene word, much less that I ever made it a
practice. I speak this to God’s glory, who has ever preserved me from
the power of these pollutions.’ Then turning to his calumniator, and
forgetting for a moment his wonted meekness, ‘Thy words,’ said he,
‘shall be thy burden, and I trample thy slander as dirt under my
feet!’
The result of the trial was, that Penn was committed to Newgate for
six months. In prison he composed and published several new works, all
connected with the subject of religious toleration, especially as it
concerned his own sect. On his release, he made a tour through Holland
and Germany, apparently for the purpose of disseminating the doctrines
of Quakerism; but few particulars are known respecting this tour. On
his return to England in 1673, being now in the twenty-eighth year of
his age, he contracted a marriage with Gulielma Maria, daughter of Sir
William Springett, of Darling, in Sussex, and a lady of great beauty
and accomplishments. After their marriage, they took up their
residence at Rickmansworth, Hertfordshire, where his wealth would have
enabled Penn, had he so chosen, to lead the life of an influential
country gentleman. Nothing, however, could cool the enthusiasm of Penn
in behalf of what he esteemed a great and glorious cause; and for
three or four years after his marriage, he was incessantly occupied in
the composition of controversial pamphlets, defending the Quakers
against the attacks and misrepresentations of other sects, and in
traveling from place to place for the purpose either of preaching, or
of conducting a debate with an antagonist. Early in 1677, he removed
his residence from Rickmansworth, in Herts, to Worminghurst, in
Sussex. In the same year, in company with the celebrated George Fox
and Robert Barclay, he made a second religious tour through Holland
and Germany, visiting, among others, the Princess Elizabeth of the
Rhine, daughter of the king of Bohemia, and granddaughter of James I
of England, who had shown considerable interest in the doctrines of
the Quakers, and who received him very graciously. On his return to
England, we find him engaged in a remonstrance to parliament in behalf
of the Quakers, which deserves some notice. At that time, as the
readers of history well know, a strong feeling prevailed throughout
the nation against the Roman Catholics, who were suspected of
innumerable plots and conspiracies against the church and state,
which, for the most part, had no existence except in the fancies of
the most bigoted portion of the Protestants. The feelings against the
Catholics became so high, that all the existing laws against them
were rigorously put in force, and much persecution was the
consequence――twenty pounds a-month being the penalty of absence from
the established worship of the country.
In order, however, to distinguish between the Roman Catholics and
other dissenters, so that the former alone might suffer, it was
proposed in parliament that a test should be offered, whereby, on
taking a particular oath, a suspected party might escape. This of
course was quite a sufficient method for dissenters in general, who
had no objection to take the required oath; but for Quakers, who
objected to oaths altogether, the plan was of no advantage. On
refusing to take the oath, they would be liable to be treated as
Jesuits, or Roman Catholics in disguise. On this point William Penn
presented a petition to the House of Commons, in which he prayed that,
with regard to the clause for discriminating between Roman Catholics
and others, the mere word of a Quaker should be deemed equivalent to
an oath; with this addition, however, that if any Quaker should be
found uttering a falsehood on the occasion, he should be subject to
exactly the same punishment as if he had sworn falsely. Being admitted
to a hearing before a committee of the House of Commons, he spoke in
support of his petition, insisting that it was hard that the Quakers
‘must bear the stripes of another interest, and be their proxy in
punishment.’ ‘But mark,’ he continued, in words which did him and his
sect much honor, when contrasted with the general intolerance of those
times, ‘I would not be mistaken. I am far from thinking it fit,
because I exclaim against the injustice of whipping Quakers for
Papists, that Papists should be whipped for their consciences. No: for
though the hand pretended to be lifted up against them hath lighted
heavily upon us, yet we do not mean that any should take a fresh aim
at them, or that they should come in our room; for we must give the
liberty we ask, and cannot be false to our principles, though it were
to relieve ourselves; for we have good will to all men, and would have
none suffer for a truly sober and conscientious dissent on any hand.
And I humbly take leave to add, that those methods against persons so
qualified do not seem to me to be convincing, or indeed adequate, to
the reason of mankind; but this I submit to your consideration.’ The
effect of Penn’s representations was such, that a clause for the
relief of Quakers was actually introduced into the bill then before
the House: the prorogation of parliament, however, put a stop to the
progress of the bill.
Passing over Penn’s further exertions, both by speech and writing, in
the cause of Quakerism and of religious toleration in England, as an
account of these would not possess much interest now, we come to the
most important event in his life――namely the foundation of the North
American colony of Pennsylvania.
PENN LED TO TAKE AN INTEREST IN THE AMERICAN COLONIES――OBTAINS A GRANT
OF PENNSYLVANIA.
After various unsuccessful attemps, two English colonies had been
planted on the eastern coast of North America in the early part of the
seventeenth century. The more southern of the two was called Virginia,
and was colonized principally by mercantile adventurers; the more
northern was called New England, and was colonized principally by
Puritans, who, driven by persecution from the mother country, had
crossed the Atlantic in order to enjoy liberty of conscience in a new
country of their own founding. From the year 1620, a constant stream
of emigrants from Great Britain had been pouring into these colonies;
so that, towards the latter part of the century, the coast on
both sides of the Potomac river was overspread by a British
population――those on the north side of the river calling themselves
New Englanders, and those on the south side Virginians. The manner in
which the colonization was carried on was as follows:――The king
granted to some nobleman, or to some mercantile company, a certain
territory roughly marked out; this nobleman or company again either
sold the property in lots to intending emigrants, or themselves
organized an emigration on a large scale, and superintended the
foundation of a colony on the territory in question. It is evident,
therefore, that the purchase and sale of lands in America had become,
in the reign of Charles II, a favorite branch of speculation; some
parties buying portions of land with an actual view to settle in the
new world, or at least to possess property in it, others buying with
the mere intention of selling again. Now, it so happened that, in the
year 1664, the Duke of York, afterwards James II, who had obtained
from his brother Charles II a grant of a great part of the New England
coast, conveyed over a portion of it, under the name of New Jersey, to
Lord Berkeley and Sir George Carteret. Lord Berkeley again disposed of
his half share to two members of the Society of Friends――John Fenwick
and Edward Byllinge. It appears that some dispute arose between these
two individuals respecting their shares in the land which they had
purchased; for, in the year 1775, we find William Penn, who seems to
have been a friend of both, acting as arbitrator between them, and
endeavoring to persuade Fenwick to yield, and, for the credit of the
body to which he belonged, not to carry the dispute to a court of law.
His remonstrances were effectual; the difference between Fenwick and
Byllinge was adjusted, and the former emigrated to New Jersey,
apparently in the mere capacity of superintendent for Byllinge, while
Byllinge himself remained at home.
This was Penn’s first connexion with the American colonies; a
connexion, it will be observed, quite casual, but which was followed
by important consequences. Byllinge becoming involved in pecuniary
difficulties, conveyed over his property in New Jersey to his
creditors, prevailing upon William Penn to act as trustee, along with
two of the creditors, for the judicious application of the property to
the purpose of discharging his debts. Penn entered on the business
with much alacrity; and after concluding an arrangement with Sir
George Carteret, by which the boundaries of his and Byllinge’s share
of New Jersey were defined――the former under the name of East New
Jersey and the latter under that of West New Jersey――he prepared to
turn his position, as Byllinge’s trustee for West New Jersey, to the
best account. The property having been divided into a hundred lots,
Fenwick, Byllinge’s agent, was paid off with ten of these, and the
remaining ninety were to be applied for the behoof of the creditors.
All that was necessary now was to invite promising emigrants to settle
in these lands; and with this view Penn drew up a constitution,
consisting of a number of articles of mutual agreement which the
purchasers of the lands were to sign, and which were characterised by
his own spirit of liberality and toleration. At the same time in order
that no one might embark in the undertaking without a full knowledge
of the condition of the country he was going to, and the difficulties
which he must encounter, he and his colleagues published ‘A description
of West New Jersey,’ embracing all the information they had it in
their power to give. In consequence of these representations, about
eight hundred respectable settlers, most of them Quakers, embarked for
New Jersey in the beginning of 1678.
Once led to take an interest in the American colonies, nothing was
more natural for William Penn, situated as he was, a member of a
persecuted sect, who had all his life been struggling ineffectually
for the attainment for himself and his fellows of some measure of
religious liberty, than to conceive the project of heading an
emigration on a large scale, to consist of Quakers and other
dissenters. Might he not be the instrument of founding a new state,
which, constructed upon better and sounder principles than those which
regulated the old state of Europe, would one day become great and
flourish? Or even supposing that so noble a prospect were never to be
realized, would it not in itself be a good and philanthropic action,
to remove some hundreds of families from a land where they were
suffering continual wrong for conscience sake, and plant them in a
land where, supporting themselves by the sweat of their brow, they
might still eat their bread in peace, and bless God the giver? Such
were the thoughts that recurred again and again to the mind of William
Penn, as instance after instance of persecution presented itself to
his view. Intelligence which he received of the prosperity of the
colonists, whom, in his capacity as trustee for Byllinge, he had been
instrumental in sending out to New Jersey, confirmed him in the notion
which he was indulging; and at length he formed the decided resolution
to head an extensive scheme of emigration on his own account.
Fortunately the execution of this project was facilitated by a claim
which Penn had upon government. His father, Admiral Penn, had at
different times advanced sums of money to the needy and dissolute
government of Charles II, which, together with arrears of pay,
amounted to £16,000; and as his father’s heir Penn was of course
entitled to the payment of this debt. In lieu of the money, Penn
proposed that government should make him a grant of a tract of country
in New England, yet uncolonised――the tract, namely, lying to the north
of Maryland, bounded on the east by the Delaware river, extending as
far to the west as Maryland, and as far to the north as was plantable.
He had no doubt been led to fix on this territory by favorable
accounts which he had received of its resources. When the application
was made to government, considerable opposition was offered to Penn’s
proposal, on the ground that he was a Quaker. At length, however, on
the 4th of March, 1681, a royal charter was granted, constituting Penn
full and absolute proprietor, under the British crown, of all the land
which he had petitioned for. The rights with which this charter
invested him were most ample. ‘The use,’ says his biographer, Mr.
Clarkson, ‘of all ports, bays, rivers, and waters in the specified
territory, of their produce, and of all islands, mountains, soils, and
mines there, was wholly granted to him. He was to hold the territory
in free and common soccage by fealty only, paying two beaver skins
annually, and a fifth of all the gold and silver discovered, to the
king. He had the power of making laws, with the advice, assent, and
approbation of the free men of the territory assembled for the raising
of money for public uses; of appointing judges and other officers; and
of pardoning and reprieving, except in cases of willful murder and
high treason. He had the power of dividing the province into towns,
hundreds, and counties; of erecting and incorporating towns into
burghs, and burghs into cities; of selling or alienating any part or
parts of the said province, in which case the purchasers were to hold
by his grant; of constituting fairs and markets; and of making ports,
harbors, and quays. He had the power of assessing, reasonably, and
with the advice of the free men assembled, customs on goods laden and
unladen, and of enjoying the same, saving only to the king such
impositions as were and should be appointed by act of parliament. In
the case of incursion by neighboring barbarous nations, or by pirates
or robbers, he had power to levy, muster, and train to arms all men in
the said province, and to act as their captain-general, and to make
war upon and pursue the same.’ To these general provisions were added
many regulations in detail, the whole charter amounting to one of the
most full and absolute ever granted to a subject. With regard to the
name of the new territory, Penn proposed at first that it should be
called New Wales, by way of companionship, it may be supposed, to New
England. Objections however, being taken to this name, he proposed
Sylvania, as one which the woody nature of the country rendered
suitable; and ultimately this name was adopted, with the prefix of the
word Penn, in honor of William Penn’s father, for whom both the king
and the Duke of York had a great regard. Penn was anxious to have this
prefix struck out, as apparently too assuming; and he actually made
application for that purpose: the king, however, insisted that the
name Pennsylvania should remain, as accordingly it did.
Penn immediately took steps for the colonization of his newly acquired
territory. He first published a paper giving ‘Some Account of the
Province of Pennsylvania in America, lately granted under the Great
Seal of England to William Penn;’ and to this paper he annexed a
statement of the terms on which he intended to sell his land to
emigrants. According to this statement, he was to sell a hundred acres
for forty shillings, reserving, for legal reasons, a perpetual
quit-rent of one shilling for every hundred acres. He next published a
list of those conditions as to the future management of the colony on
which he was willing to part with his land to purchasers. The most
prominent of these conditions related to the manner in which he wished
the native Indians to be treated by those who settled in the new
territory. With a degree of humanity rare in that age, though quite in
consonance with his own noble character, he forewarned all his
adherents that he was determined to put the native Indians on a level
with the colonists as regarded civic rights, and that all differences
between the two parties should be settled by an equal number of
referees from both sides.
As it was deemed necessary, moreover, that intending settlers should
have some previous idea of the form of government to be adopted in the
new colony, Penn drew up a rough outline of such a constitution as he
wished to be established, and as he had no doubt would meet the
approbation of all likely to be interested. This constitution embraced
twenty-four articles, of which the first, named by Penn the _Great
Fundamental_, was as follows:――‘In reverence to God, the father of
light and spirits, the author as well as object of all divine
knowledge, faith, and worship, I do for me and mine, declare and
establish for the first fundamental of the government of my province,
that every person that doth and shall reside therein shall have and
enjoy the free profession of his or her faith and exercise of worship
toward God, in such a way and manner as every such person in
conscience shall believe is most acceptable to God.’
All the necessary preparations having been made, three ships full of
emigrants set sail for Pennsylvania in the end of 1681. The
superintendence of this first detachment was intrusted by Penn to his
relative, Colonel Markham, assisted by commissioners. These were
instructed to open up a communication with the natives, and to make
all possible arrangements for the establishment of a peaceful relation
between them and the future colony. With this view they carried a
letter, writen in Penn’s own hand, and addressed to the Indians; of
which remarkable document the following is a copy:――‘There is a great
God and Power which hath made the world and all things therein, to
whom you and I, and all people, owe their being and well-being, and to
whom you and I must one day give an account for all that we have done
in the world. This great God hath written his law in our hearts, by
which we are taught and commanded to love, and to help, and to do good
to one another. Now this great God hath been pleased to make me
concerned in your part of the world; and the king of the country where
I live hath given me a great province therein. But I desire to enjoy
it with your love and consent, that we may always live together as
neighbors and friends; else what would the great God do to us; who
hath made us, not to devour and destroy one another, but to live
soberly and kindly together in the world? Now, I would have you well
observe that I am very sensible of the unkindness and injustice which
have been too much exercised toward you by the people of these parts
of the world, who have sought to make great advantages by you, rather
than to be examples of goodness and patience unto you. This, I hear,
hath been a matter of trouble to you, and caused much grudging and
animosities, sometimes to the shedding of blood, which hath made the
great God angry. But I am not such a man, as is well known in my own
country. I have great love and regard toward you, and desire to win
and gain your love and friendship by a kind, just, and peaceable life;
and the people I send are of the same mind, and shall in all things
behave themselves accordingly; and if in anything any shall offend you
or your people, you shall have a full and speedy satisfaction for the
same, by an equal number of just men on both sides, that by no means
you may have just occasion of being offended against them. I shall
shortly come to see you myself, at which time we may more largely and
freely confer and discourse of these matters. In the meantime, I have
sent my commissioners to treat with you about land, and a firm league
of peace. Let me desire you to be kind to them and to the people; and
receive the presents and tokens which I have sent you, as a testimony
of my good-will to you, and of my resolution to live justly,
peaceably, and friendly with you.