[Illustration: _WILLIAM PENN_]
_Life Stories for Young People_
WILLIAM PENN
_Translated from the German of
Hugo Oertel_
BY
GEORGE P. UPTON
_Translator of “Memories,” “Immensee,” etc._
WITH FOUR ILLUSTRATIONS
[Illustration: A. C. McCLURG & CO.]
CHICAGO
A. C. MCCLURG & CO.
1911
Copyright
A. C. McClurg & Co.
1911
Published September, 1911
THE · PLIMPTON · PRESS
[W · D · O]
NORWOOD · MASS · U · S · A
Translator’s Preface
The life of William Penn is one which cannot be too closely studied by
American youth, and the German author of this little volume has told its
story in most attractive style. Not one of the early settlers of the
United States had loftier purpose in view, more exalted ambition, or
nobler character. The brotherhood of man was his guiding principle, and
in seeking to carry out his purpose he displayed resolute courage,
inflexible honesty, and the highest, noblest, and most beautiful traits
of character. He encountered numerous obstacles in his great
mission—imprisonment and persecution at home, slanders and calumnies of
his enemies, intrigues of those who were envious of his success,
domestic sorrows, and at last, and most deplorable of all, the
ingratitude of the colonists as the settlement grew, and in some cases
their enmity. It is a shining example of his lofty character and fair
dealing that the Indians, who were always jealous of white men and
suspicious of their designs, remained his stanch friends to the end, for
he never broke faith with them. His closing days were sad ones, and he
died in comparative seclusion, but his name will always be preserved by
that of the great commonwealth which bears it and his principles by the
name of the metropolis which signifies them. This world would be a
better one if there were more William Penns in it.
G. P. U.
Chicago, _July, 1911_
Contents
Chapter Page
I William Penn’s Father—Childhood of Penn—Expulsion from Oxford
for his Religious Views—Travels on the Continent 11
II The Plague and its Results—Penn as a Soldier—His Religious
Struggle—Becomes a Quaker—Imprisonment for Attending
Meetings—Death of his Father 24
III Penn’s Third Imprisonment—His Happy Marriage—Fresh
Persecutions—Visits to Germany—Quaker Emigration 36
IV The Popish Plot—Settlement of Virginia—The Royal Cession to
Penn—Christening of Pennsylvania—Outlines of Penn’s
Constitution 48
V Description of Penn’s Domain—Negotiations with the Indians by
Penn’s Agent—Death of Penn’s Mother—Final Instructions
to his Family—Departure of the “Welcome” 60
VI Penn’s Arrival—The Founding of Philadelphia—First General
Assembly—Building of the “Blue Anchor”—The First School
and Printing Press 72
VII The Indian Conference—Signing of the Treaty—Penn Returns to
England to Defend his Rights against Lord
Baltimore—Accession of James the Second—His Dethronement
and Accession of William the Third 84
VIII Penn Tried for Treason and Acquitted—Withdrawal of Penn’s
Charter—Death of his Wife and Son—Second
Marriage—Journey to America—Penn’s Home—Attempts to
Correct Abuses—Returns to England and Encounters Fresh
Dangers—Penn in the Debtors’ Prison—Ingratitude of the
Colonists 96
IX Death of his Dissolute Son William—Penn’s Last Illness and
Mental Decline—His Death and Will 109
Appendix 113
Illustrations
Page
William Penn _Frontispiece_
The Duel 22
Penn and the Indians 82
The Conference 84
William Penn
Chapter I
William Penn’s Father—Childhood of Penn—Expulsion from Oxford for his
Religious Views—Travels on the Continent
William Penn was descended from an old English family which, as early as
the beginning of the fifteenth century, had settled in the county of
Buckinghamshire in the southern part of England, and of which a branch
seems later to have moved to the neighboring county of Wiltshire, for in
a church in the town of Mintye there is a tablet recording the death of
a William Penn in 1591. It was a grandson and namesake of this William
Penn, and the father of our hero, however, who first made the family
name distinguished. Brought up as a sailor by his father, the captain of
a merchantman, with whom he visited not only the principal ports of
Spain and Portugal, but also the distant shores of Asia Minor, he
afterward entered the service of the government and so distinguished
himself that in his twentieth year he was made a captain in the royal
navy. In 1643 he married Margaret Jasper, the clever and beautiful
daughter of a Rotterdam merchant, and from this time his sole ambition
was to make a name for himself and elevate his family to a rank they had
not hitherto enjoyed. In this he succeeded, partly by policy, but also
unquestionably by natural ability; for although the name of Penn is
scarcely enrolled among England’s greatest naval heroes, yet at the
early age of twenty-three he had been made a rear-admiral, and two years
later was advanced to the rank of vice-admiral—this too at a time when
advancement in the English navy could only be obtained by real merit and
valuable service.
Penn’s father was also shrewd enough to take advantage of circumstances
and turn them to his profit. Although at heart a royalist, he did not
scruple to go over to the revolutionists when it became evident that the
monarchy must succumb to the power of the justly incensed people and
Parliament; and when the head of Charles the First had fallen under the
executioner’s axe and Oliver Cromwell had seized the reins of
government, Admiral Penn was prompt to offer his homage. Cromwell on his
part may have had some justifiable doubts as to the sincerity of this
allegiance, but knowing Penn to be an ambitious man of the world, he
felt reasonably sure of winning him over completely to the side of the
Commonwealth by consulting his interests. He had need of such men just
then, for the alliance between England and Holland, which he was
endeavoring to bring about, had just been frustrated by the passage by
Parliament of the Navigation Act of 1651, requiring that foreign
merchandise should be brought to England on English vessels only. This
was a direct blow at the flourishing trade hitherto carried on by the
Dutch with English ports, and a war with Holland was inevitable. As this
must of necessity be a naval war, Cromwell was quite ready to accept the
services of so able and experienced an officer as William Penn. The
young admiral fully justified the Protector’s confidence, for it was
largely owing to his valor that the war, during which ten great naval
battles were fought, ended in complete victory for the English.
Scarcely less distinguished were his services in the subsequent war with
Spain, when he was given the task of destroying that country’s
sovereignty in the West Indies. He conquered the island of Jamaica,
which was added to England’s possessions, but was unable to retrieve an
unsuccessful attempt of the land forces assisting him to capture the
neighboring island of Hispaniola. He had been shrewd enough to make
terms with Cromwell before sailing for the West Indies. In compensation
for the damages inflicted on his Irish property during the civil war he
was granted an indemnity, besides the promise of a valuable estate in
Ireland, and the assurance of protection for his family during his
absence. It was well for Penn that he did so, for on his return he was
summarily deprived of his office and cast into prison—ostensibly for his
failure to conquer Hispaniola. The real reason, however, for this action
on the part of Cromwell was doubtless due to his knowledge of certain
double dealing on the part of Penn, who, shrewdly foreseeing that the
English Commonwealth was destined to be short-lived and that on the
death of Cromwell the son of the murdered King would doubtless be
restored to the throne, had secretly entered into communication with
this prince, then living at Cologne on the Rhine, and placed at his
disposition the entire fleet under his command. The offer had been
declined, it is true, Charles at that time being unable to avail himself
of it, but it had reached the ears of Cromwell, who took this means of
punishing the admiral’s disloyalty.
That our hero should have been the child of such a father proves the
fallacy of the saying, “The apple never falls far from the tree.” His
mother, fortunately, was of a very different and far nobler stamp. She
seems to have felt no regret at her son’s religious turn of mind, for
later, when the father, enraged at his association with the despised
Quakers, turned him out of doors, she secretly sympathized with the
outcast and supplied him with money.
This son, our William Penn, was born in London on the fourteenth of
October, 1644, as his father was floating down the Thames in the
battleship of which he had just been placed in command. For his early
education he was indebted entirely to his mother, his father’s
profession keeping him away from home most of the time. From what is
known of her, this must have been of a kind firmly to implant in the
child’s heart the seeds of piety, for such a development of spirituality
can only be ascribed to impressions received in childhood. William was
only eleven at the time of his father’s disgrace, but old enough to
understand and share his mother’s distress at the misfortune which fell
like a dark shadow across his youthful gayety. Even then the boy may
have realized how little real happiness is to be found in a worldly
career, and how poor are they whose whole thoughts are centred on the
things of this life.
The admiral’s imprisonment did not last long, however. A petition for
pardon having been sent to the Protector, he was released and retired
with his family to bury his blighted ambitions on the Irish estate near
Cork which he had received as a reward for his achievements in the war
with Holland. Two more children had been born to them in the meantime, a
daughter, Margaret, and a second son, who was named Richard. Here, amid
the pleasures and occupations of a country life to which he devoted
himself with the greatest zest and enjoyment, young William grew into a
slender but stalwart youth. When it became time to consider his higher
education, for which there were no suitable opportunities at home, it
was decided to send him to Oxford—a plan which was deferred for a time,
however, owing to an event which was of more concern to Admiral Penn
than his son’s education, since it opened fresh fields for his ambition.
This was the death of Oliver Cromwell on September 3, 1658. The news
revived Penn’s still cherished plans for assisting in the restoration of
Charles the Second, thereby laying the foundation of a new and brilliant
career at the court of the young King, whose favor he had already
propitiated by his offer of the fleet. These schemes he did not dare to
put into immediate execution for fear of involving himself in fresh
troubles, the parliamentary party still being in power and Cromwell’s
son Richard chosen as his successor. But no sooner had the latter,
realizing his inability to guide affairs with his father’s strong hand,
resigned the honor conferred upon him, no sooner was it announced that
Parliament had received a message from Charles the Second and was
favorably inclined toward his restoration to the throne, than the
aspiring admiral lost not a moment in hastening over to Holland to be
among the first to offer homage to the new King.
The knighthood which he received from that grateful monarch served only
as a spur to still greater zeal in his interests, to which he devoted
himself with such success that he not only won over the navy to the
royal cause by his influence with its officers, but having accomplished
his election to Parliament, was thus able to assist in the decision to
recall the exiled sovereign. Again he was among the first to carry this
news to Holland, thereby establishing himself still more firmly in the
King’s favor. Not till these affairs were settled and a brilliant future
assured for himself and his family did Sir William find time to think of
his son, who was accordingly sent to Christ Church, Oxford.
The young man must have soon discovered the deficiencies of his previous
education and realized that he was far behind other students of his own
age, but he applied himself to his studies with such diligence that he
made rapid progress and earned the entire approbation of his
instructors, while his amiability and kindness of heart, as well as his
skill in all sorts of manly sports, made him no less popular with his
fellow students. But skilful oarsman, sure shot, and good athlete as he
was, he never lost sight of the deeper things of life. Indefatigably as
he devoted himself to acquiring not only a thorough knowledge of the
classics, but also of several modern languages, so that he was able to
converse in French, German, Dutch, and Italian, he showed an even
greater fondness for the study of religion. He was especially interested
in the writings of the Puritans, which were spread broadcast at this
time, glowing with Christian zeal and denouncing the efforts made by the
court to introduce Catholic forms and ceremonies into divine worship in
the universities as well as elsewhere. Feeling it a matter of conscience
to protest against these innovations, Penn, with a number of his fellow
students, reluctantly determined to resist the orders of the King, with
whom his father stood in such high favor, but whose dissolute life could
win neither respect nor loyalty from the earnest and high-minded youth.
About this time there appeared at Oxford a man whom William had already
seen as a child and who even then made a deep impression on him. This
was Thomas Loe, a follower of Fox, the Quaker whose teachings he was
endeavoring to spread throughout the country. He had visited Ireland for
this purpose and, doubtless at the suggestion of Sir William’s pious
lady, was asked to hold a meeting at their house. The eleven-year-old
William never forgot the effect produced by this sermon. Even his
father, not usually susceptible to religious feeling, was moved to
tears, and the boy thought what a wonderful place the world would be if
all were Quakers.
Now that this same Thomas Loe had come to Oxford, what could be more
natural than that the young zealot, already roused to opposition and
imbued with Puritan ideas, should attend these Quaker meetings with
companions of a like mind? Strengthened in his childish impressions and
convinced that divine truth was embodied in Loe’s teachings, Penn and
his friends refused to attend the established form of service, with its
ceremonies, for which they openly expressed their abhorrence and
contempt. He was called to account and punished by the college
authorities for this and for attending the Quaker meetings, but it only
added fuel to the flame. Indignant at this so-called violation of their
principles, against the injustice of which they felt it a sacred duty to
rebel, they began to hold meetings among themselves for devotional
exercises, and only awaited a pretext for open revolt. This was soon
furnished by an order from the King prescribing the wearing of
collegiate gowns by the students. The young reformers not only refused
to wear them, but even went so far as to attack those who did and tear
the objectionable garments off from them by force—a proceeding which
naturally led to their expulsion after an official examination, during
which Penn had spoken boldly and unreservedly in his own and his
companions’ defence.
The effect of this on the worldly and ambitious father may easily be
imagined. He had looked to his eldest son, on whom he had built such
high hopes, to carry on his aspiring schemes after his own death, and
totally unable to comprehend how a mere youth could be so carried away
by religious enthusiasm, the disgrace of William’s expulsion from the
university was a bitter blow to his pride. It was but a cold reception
therefore that the young man met with on his return to the paternal
roof. For a long time his father refused even to see him, and when he
did it was only to overwhelm him with the bitterest reproaches. He
sternly commanded him to abandon his absurd religious beliefs and break
off all communication with his Oxford associates, and when William
respectfully but firmly refused to do this until he should be convinced
of their absurdity, the admiral, accustomed as an officer to absolute
obedience, flew into such a passion that he seized his cane and ordered
his degenerate son out of the house.
On calmer reflection, however, he became convinced of the uselessness of
such severity, for William, he discovered, though moping about, dejected
and unhappy, was still keeping up a lively correspondence with his
Quaker friends, so he resolved to try other methods. Knowing by
experience the power of worldly pleasures to divert the mind of youth
and drown serious thought in the intoxication of the senses, he
determined to resort to this dangerous remedy for his son, whose ideas
of life, to his mind, needed a radical change. He therefore arranged for
William to join a party of young gentlemen of rank who were about to set
out on a tour of the continent, first visiting France and its gay
capital, reckoning shrewdly that constant association with young
companions so little in sympathy with Quaker ideas and habits would soon
convert his son to other views. Or if this perhaps did not fully
accomplish the purpose, the allurements of Paris, where King Louis the
Fourteenth and his brilliant court set such an example of luxury and
licentiousness, could not fail to complete the cure.
Little to young Penn’s taste as was this journey, and especially the
society in which he was to make it, he did not care to renew his
father’s scarcely cooled anger by opposing it, nor was life at home
under existing circumstances especially pleasant or comfortable. He
yielded therefore without protest to his father’s wishes and set out for
Paris with the companions chosen for him, well provided with letters of
introduction which would admit him to the highest circles of French
society.
The correctness of the admiral’s judgment proved well founded, and the
associations into which he had thrown his son only too well fitted to
work the desired change. In spite of his inward resistance young Penn
found himself drawn into a whirl of gayety and pleasure for which he
soon grew to have more and more fondness and which left him no time for
serious thought. He was presented to the King and became a welcome and
frequent guest at that dissolute court. The life of license and luxury
by which he was surrounded and against which he had almost ceased to
struggle failed, however, entirely to subdue his better nature, as the
following incident will show.
Returning late one evening from some gathering wearing a sword, as
French custom demanded, his way was suddenly stopped by a masked man who
ordered him to draw his sword, demanding satisfaction for an injury. In
vain Penn protested his innocence of any offence and his ignorance even
of the identity of his accuser, but the latter insisted that he should
fight, declaring Penn had insulted him by not returning his greeting.
The discussion soon attracted a number of auditors, and under penalty of
being dubbed a coward by refusing to cross swords with his adversary,
Penn was obliged to yield. But if, as is not unlikely, the whole affair
was planned by his comrades to force him to use arms, a practice
forbidden among the Quakers, the youth who undertook the role of
challenger was playing rather a dangerous game; for among his other
acquirements Penn had thoroughly mastered the art of fencing and quickly
succeeded in disarming his adversary. Instead of pursuing his advantage,
however, as the laws of duelling permitted, the spectators were
astonished to see him return the rapier with a courtly bow to his
discomfited foe and silently withdraw. He might yield to the prevailing
custom so far as to draw his sword, but his conscience would not permit
him to shed human blood.
[Illustration: _THE DUEL_]
It was with the greatest satisfaction that Sir William learned of the
change that had been wrought in his son, and to make it yet more
permanent and effectual he ordered him to remain abroad, extending his
travels to other countries. He was now in a position to afford this, as
through the favor of the King’s brother, the Duke of York, he had
received an important and lucrative post in the admiralty, but he would
gladly have made any sacrifice to have his son return the kind of man he
wished him to be. But the father’s hopes ran too high. Although
outwardly become a man of the world, William had by no means lost all
serious purpose in the vortex of Parisian life, for he spent some time
at Saumur, on the Loire, attracted thither by the fame of Moses
Amyrault, a divine, under whose teaching he remained for some time and
of whom he became a zealous adherent. From there, by his father’s
orders, he travelled through various parts of France and then turned his
steps toward Italy in order to become as familiar with the language as
he already had with French, and to cultivate his taste in art by a study
of the rich treasures of that country.