The new king of England, William III., was an honest, upright man, and made a fine ruler, in many ways one of the very finest that England has ever had. The government had been very corrupt under the last two Stuart kings; under William and Mary it became respectable. William had already made the small country of the Netherlands a power in the world, and had fought valiantly to defend the Protestant cause. When he became king of the much stronger country of England, he said to a friend, "At last I have a weapon whose blows will hurt!" He meant that he could now do more than ever for religious freedom.

And he did more for religious freedom than any king of England ever had done. He did not make promises only to break them, nor play off one party against another for his own selfish aims. He found the country a very network of intrigue and plotting, and he straightened it out as speedily as he could. He was a colder, more reserved man than either Charles, the "Merry Monarch," or James II. had been, and he had of course to make a great many changes in the government, so that it followed quite naturally that those men who were used to the two Stuart kings were not altogether pleased with William. Penn was one of those men; having been fond of Charles and James, he did not take kindly to William; and he allowed himself to appear almost an enemy to the new ruling house.

Now King William, although he had no particular affection for the Quaker leader, was quite ready to be perfectly fair with him. He would probably have been glad to ask Penn's advice in regard to matters that concerned the Quakers, had not an unfortunate accident happened which placed Penn under suspicion. The exiled King James wrote a letter to Penn from France; and, as King William's spies were careful to trace all the letters James sent to England, it soon became known that Penn had been receiving messages from the exiled king. The first thing Penn knew he was served with an order to appear before the Privy Council and answer to a charge of carrying on a treasonable correspondence. He was not frightened. He went at once to the Council, surrendered himself, and asked that he might be allowed to make his answer in the presence of the king. This was agreed to, and the meeting was set for the next day.

William was gracious and kindly when the Quaker, hat in hand, appeared before him; and the king alluded to the pleasure he had had in meeting Mr. Penn at the Hague. Then he drew out the letter from King James that his spies had intercepted, and handed it to Penn, saying that the signature was undoubtedly that of James Stuart. He then asked Penn to read the letter aloud. This Penn did, and found that the letter reminded Penn of James's friendship for his father and for himself, and hoped that in its hour of need he would come to the aid of the Stuart cause.

Penn handed the letter back to the king, who asked what King James meant by requesting Penn to come to his aid, and why James had written to him. Penn answered that it was impossible for him to prevent James writing to him, if the late king wished to do so. He then went on to admit that he had loved King James in his prosperity, and could not hate him now in his adversity; that he was willing to repay his kindness in any private way he could; but that he had no thought of disloyalty to the new sovereign, and had never been guilty of any disloyal act. His defense was so manly and frank that William was willing to discharge Penn at once, but, as some of his Council objected, the king ordered William Penn to give bail to appear at the next "Trinity term" of court, which began on May 22 and ended on June 12. When Penn furnished this bail, he was given his liberty.

Soon afterward King William went to Ireland to put down a rebellion that was being led by James and his followers, and in his absence Queen Mary took charge of the affairs of state. She listened to the stories of some men who were doubtless trying to gain her favor by slandering others, and caused the arrest of eighteen prominent men who were charged with conspiring "to restore James Stuart to the throne of England." One of the names on the list was that of William Penn. He was arrested, and again released on bail. The case never came to trial, but these two charges were sufficient to keep him under the eye of the law, and force him to lead a secluded and careful life. Once let a man who had been as prominent and popular as William Penn fall into disfavor and scores of enemies will spring up to steal away his good name. So it was then, and many a time in the years that were to come he must have longed for the free, outdoor life of his colony across the seas where he had been so happy.

After a time he began to plan to return to Pennsylvania, and advertised for more settlers to go out there with him. He was on the point of sailing when he learned by chance that another warrant had been issued for his arrest, and that already the officers were looking for him. Probably he now despaired of clearing his name to the satisfaction of the government; in any event he decided on a new course; he did not give himself up, but instead went into hiding, disappearing as if he were really afraid of trying to prove his innocence.

No one knows exactly what became of Penn during those next three years. Some say that he took private lodgings in London, and explain that the great city was so full of little, hidden courts and narrow, twisting alleys that it was easy for a man to conceal himself there for a long time. Others say that he spent part of that time in France, and it seems likely that much of the time he was on the move, for he himself wrote in a letter, "I have been above these three years hunted up and down, and could never be allowed to live quietly in city or country."

It was a most unfortunate situation for a man who had lived the upright life that William Penn had, and one who had done so much for liberty of conscience. It seems as if Penn must have been afraid of the lying statements of enemies, and feared that their false words would outweigh the truth. There were then a number of men in England who made a good living by being "informers," making up their charges out of whole cloth. Unscrupulous persons sometimes sought the help of such informers to put enemies out of the way. Penn wrote to a meeting of Quakers in London, "My privacy is not because men have sworn truly, but falsely, against me; 'for wicked men have laid in wait for me and false witnesses have laid to my charge things that I knew not.'" He also sent a letter to his friends in Pennsylvania, saying, "By this time thou wilt have heard of the renewal of my troubles, the only hinderance of my return, being in the midst of my preparations with a great company of adventurers when they came upon me. The jealousies of some and unworthy dealings of others have made way for them; but under and over it all the ancient Rock has been my shelter and comfort; and I hope yet to see your faces with our ancient satisfaction."

It hardly seems credible that Penn could have actually conspired against the new king and queen, and yet plots were much in the air in those days, and, as we have already seen, the Quaker leader could be rather easily influenced by people of whom he was fond. In any event, he seems at that time to have been treated as an object of suspicion, and at this distant date it cannot be said positively whether he deserved this suspicion or whether he was the unhappy victim of unscrupulous "informers."

King William left England on a visit to the Hague, and in his absence another plot was discovered, this time to bring James over from France in the king's absence and seize London before the army could be ready to defend it. The plot was discovered before it had made any real headway. Bishop Burnet said, "The men who laid this design were the Earl of Clarendon, the Bishop of Ely, the Lord Preston, and his brother Mr. Graham, and Penn, the famous Quaker."

The first four of these men were really guilty, and one of them, Preston, being actually caught with the papers in his possession, saved his life by turning state's evidence, and in his confession named William Penn as one of the conspirators. So Penn was included in the order for the arrest of all the traitors.

There was nothing to prove Penn guilty, so he simply kept up his policy of hiding. He did, however, send his brother-in-law to Henry Sydney, an old friend of his who was high in favor with King William. Sydney agreed to meet Penn and hear his side of the matter. The two men met, and afterward Sydney wrote to the king and told him what Penn had said. The sum of this was that Penn was really a loyal subject of William's. He said that he was not plotting and knew of no plot, and only asked that the king would grant him an interview so that he might clear himself.

Being busy in Ireland, the king could not see him at that time, and so Penn kept in concealment. A little later he wrote again to Sydney, urging him to beg the king not to believe all the unjust stories that were being spread concerning him. He said that he only desired to be allowed to live quietly in England or America, and added that the Quakers would vouch for his keeping quiet and doing no harm. He ended by saying that he felt that he had been very much mistreated, and that a less peaceable subject might almost have been driven to conspiracies by such hard usage.

He did not dare, however, to give himself up for trial on any of the charges against him. He felt certain that he could explain away those charges if he might meet the king privately, but he would not stand an open trial in court. He said to Sydney, "Let me be believed and I am ready to appear; but when I remember how they began to use me in Ireland upon corrupt evidence before this business, and what some ill people have threatened here, besides those under temptation, and the providences that have successively appeared for my preservation under this retirement, I can not, without unjustifiable presumption, put myself into the power of my enemies." It is a very strange and mixed-up situation, it being clear that Penn was afraid of what his enemies might show against him, though whether there was actually any good ground for their charges no one can positively say.

He must have felt uneasy even when hiding in England, for presently he went to France. History does not tell us what he did there, nor how long he remained. In the meantime King William took away from him the government of his province of Pennsylvania, and the rents of his estates in Ireland were declared confiscated.

After some time the fugitive must have thought that the government might have become more friendly to him, for he tried to get Lord Rochester to make his peace with King William. He said that if the king would dismiss the charges against him, he would go back to Pennsylvania, although he would like first to go to Ireland and try to recover some of his ruined estates. There was now less fear of conspiracies of followers of James II.; moreover, the government may well have thought that there was little danger to be feared from Penn; and that they would be well rid of him if he would go to Pennsylvania and use his energies in straightening out matters there. Three noblemen, Lords Rochester, Ranelagh, and Romney, the new title of his friend Henry Sydney, saw the king on Penn's behalf. William was willing to be lenient. So Penn was able to write this interesting letter to his friends in his American colony:

"This comes by the Pennsylvania Merchant,—Harrison, commander, and C. Saunders, merchant. By them and this know, that it hath pleased God to work my enlargement, by three Lords representing my case as not only hard, but oppressive; that there was nothing against me but what impostors, or those that are fled, or that have, since their pardon refused to verify (and asked me pardon for saying what they did), alleged against me; that they had long known me, some of them thirty years, and had never known me to do an ill thing, but many good offices; and that for not being thought to go abroad in defiance of the Government, I might and would have done it two years ago; and that I was, therefore, willing to wait to go about my affairs, as before, with leave; that I might be the better respected in the liberty I took to follow it.

"King William answered, 'That I was his old acquaintance, as well as theirs; and that I might follow my business as freely as ever; and that he had nothing to say to me,'—upon which they pressed him to command one of them to declare the same to the Secretary of State, Sir John Trenchard, that if I came to him, or otherwise, he might signify the same to me, which he also did. The Lords were Rochester, Ranelagh, and Sydney; and the last, as my greatest acquaintance, was to tell the Secretary; accordingly he did; and the Secretary, after speaking himself, and having it from King William's own mouth, appointed me a time to meet him at home; and did with the Marquis of Winchester, and told me I was as free as ever; and as he doubted not my prudence about my quiet living, for he assured me I should not be molested or injured in any of my affairs, at least while he held that post. The Secretary is my old friend, and one I served after the D. of Monmouth and Lord Russel's business; I carried him in my coach to Windsor, and presented him to King James; and when the Revolution came, he bought my four horses that carried us. It was about three or four months before the Revolution. The Lords spoke the 25th of November, and he discharged me on the 30th.

"From the Secretary I went to our meeting, at the Bull and Mouth; thence to visit the sanctuary of my solitude; and after that to see my poor wife and children; the eldest being with me all this while. My wife is yet weakly; but I am not without hopes of her recovery, who is of the best of wives and women."

So Penn came out of his hiding and appeared again in the full light of London. We find a man named Narcissus Luttrell writing in his diary for December 5, 1693: "Wm. Penn, the Quaker, having for some time absconded, and having compromised the matters against him, appears now in public, and on Friday last held forth at the Bull and Mouth in St. Martin's."

As he was always an active, energetic man, William Penn had been busy writing during the time of his concealment. He had written a number of new Quaker pamphlets, and also his famous collection of maxims called "Fruits of Solitude." In a wider and more interesting field he had also written "An Essay towards the Present Peace of Europe," in which he urged that all disputes between governments be settled by a court of arbitration, and that a United States of Europe, with a general council containing representatives of each nation, should be formed.

It is said that Penn's devoted wife had gone to King James and his queen in France every year since he had lost his throne, and carried them tokens of devotion from their friends in England. She was always well received, and even the supporters of William could find little fault in so gracious an act. But Guli Penn said that she did this from friendship for the exiles, and not through any opposition to the new rulers of her land.

Soon after Penn was free to live as he pleased his gentle wife died, leaving three children, Springett, William, and Letitia. They had been a devoted couple, and Penn found this loss a very hard one to bear. Difficulties of many sorts beset him. His fortune had been spent in various ways during the troubled days of his fall from favor, and he now looked across the sea, in the hope that he might find in his province of Pennsylvania some of the peace and satisfaction he had known there on his first visit, and had dreamed of from time to time ever since.