THE BOY OF GREAT TOWER HILL

In a house on Great Tower Hill near London Wall, was born William Penn, who was to become the Founder of Pennsylvania.

He was christened William after his ancestor, Penn of Penn’s Lodge. He was a charming baby, with round face, soft blue eyes, and curling hair. His father, Captain Penn, who had been called home to see the new baby on that first birthday of little William Penn, went back to his ship rejoicing that he had such a handsome son and heir.

When William Penn was ten years old, a strange thing befell him. He was not like other boys. He was quiet and serious. At that time he was a schoolboy in an English village.

One day, he was alone in his room. Suddenly he felt a wonderful peace and an “inner comfort,” while a glory filled the room. He felt that he was drawn near to God, so that his soul might speak with him. A strange experience for a boy to have. But it was an experience which helped to shape William Penn’s life. From that time on, he believed that he had been called to live a holy life.

When he grew older, his family tried to make him forget this religious experience, but he never forgot. In time he became a Friend—or Quaker. In those days, Friends were bitterly persecuted in England. William Penn suffered imprisonments and persecutions, but always with patient sweetness and endurance.

At last, the persecutions of the Friends made William Penn turn his thoughts toward the New World of America.

HE WORE IT AS LONG AS HE COULD

When William Penn became a Friend, he did not immediately leave off his gay apparel, as other Friends did. He even wore a sword, as was customary among men of rank and fashion.

One day, being with George Fox the great leader of the Friends, he asked his advice about wearing the sword, saying that it had once been the means of saving his life without injuring his antagonist, and that moreover Christ has said, “He that hath no sword, let him sell his garment and buy one.”

“I advise thee,” answered George Fox quietly, “to wear it as long as thou canst.”

Shortly after this, they met again. William Penn had no sword.

“William,” said George Fox, “where is thy sword?”

“Oh!” replied William Penn, “I have taken thy advice. I wore it as long as I could!”

Samuel M. Janney (Retold)

THE PEACEMAKER

“He must not be a man but a statue of brass or stone, whose bowels do not melt when he beholds the bloody tragedies of this war in Hungary, Germany, Flanders, Ireland, and at sea; the mortality of sickly and languishing camps and navies; and the mighty prey the devouring winds and waves have made upon ships and men,” wrote William Penn over two hundred years ago.

It was then that William Penn became the peacemaker.

The world was in the midst of a terrible war. William Penn did not believe in war. He had cast aside his own sword for principle’s sake, and had bravely suffered persecutions and imprisonments in the Tower of London and in Newgate. Fearlessly now he came forward with a plan for world peace, which he hoped would stop bloody wars, and persuade rulers to arbitrate their quarrels.

He published a “Plan for the Peace of Europe,” urging the formation of a league of European countries.

So earnest is this plan and so profoundly thought out, that it has had much influence on rulers and statesmen, who from time to time have held peace congresses in Europe. But rivalry of Nations, has prevented the peace plan from ever being carried out.

“Christians,” argued William Penn, “have embrewed their hands in one another’s blood, invoking and interesting all they could the good and merciful God to prosper their arms to their brethren’s destruction. Yet their Saviour has told them that He came to save and not to destroy the lives of men, to give and plant peace among men. And, if in any sense, He may be said to send war, it is the Holy War indeed, for it is against the Devil, and not the persons of men. Of all His titles, this seems the most glorious as well as comfortable for us, that He is the Prince of Peace.”

WESTWARD HO, AND AWAY!

The time arrived when William Penn’s peaceful thoughts went sailing over the Atlantic, westward ho, and away! For he was appointed a trustee of Jersey in America. There came to him while he was still in England, news of immense tracts of land lying beyond Jersey, so fertile that under cultivation they would yield harvests unparalleled in his island home. He heard of rich minerals, of noble forests, of river-banks offering splendid sites for towns and cities, of bays where proud navies might ride at anchor.

Moreover, many Friends, who had fled from persecution in England, were settled in Jersey. Their industry had already turned the wilderness into a garden. They were holding their meetings and worshipping God, without fear of constables and fines, of imprisonments and attacks by mobs. In Jersey, they had full liberty of conscience.

And William Penn, as his thoughts sailed westward ho, and away! saw, rising from the sea, bright and fair, a land of refuge not only for persecuted Friends, but for all oppressed people. He determined to found a new State in America, where nobody should be persecuted for religion’s sake, where everybody should be free, and where the people should govern themselves. “A holy experiment,” he called it.

He presented a petition to Charles the Second, asking for a royal grant of land near Jersey. “After many waitings, watchings, solicitings,” the title to a vast tract was confirmed to him under the Great Seal of England. He was to be its ruler and “Lord Proprietor,” “with large powers and privileges.” He was to make laws, grant pardons, and appoint officials as he saw fit, but subject to the approval of the English Government.

Penn named his land, “Sylvania”; but the King called it Penn-sylvania, in honour of old Admiral Penn, William Penn’s father.

Almost the first thing that Penn did was to write to the people already settled in Pennsylvania, “a loving address.”

“My Friends,” he began, “I wish you all happiness, here and hereafter. These are to let you know that it hath pleased God, in his providence, to cast you within my lot and care....

“You shall be governed by laws of your own making, and live a free, and, if you will, a sober and industrious people.”

Thus William Penn promised the People of Pennsylvania, Liberty and the right to govern themselves. And he kept his promises.

John Stoughton (Retold)

THE CITY OF BROTHERLY LOVE

With what delight did William Penn first set foot on the shore of the Delaware River. It was Autumn. The sweet clear air, the serene skies, the trees, fruits, and flowers, filled him with a wellnigh unspeakable joy.

And later, while being rowed up the river in a barge, he saw the ancient forest trees on either bank, their leaves flaming with red, gold, and amber. He saw flocks of wild fowl rise up from the water, and fly screaming overhead. The solitude and grandeur of the wilderness brooded over all.

Meanwhile, farther up the river, a welcome was awaiting him. In a little town, shaded by pine-trees and built on the high shore, there were white men and Indians hurrying to and fro. They were preparing an entertainment for William Penn, their Governor.

The town was Penn’s capital city. He had named it Philadelphia, which means Brotherly Love.

And as his barge drew near the City of Brotherly Love, the white settlers, Swedish, Dutch, and English Friends, greeted him heartily, for they already knew how just, gentle, and wise he was.

As for the Indians, so stately in their robes of fur and nodding plumes, William Penn walked with them, and sat down on the ground to eat with them. They gave him hominy and roasted acorns. And after the feast, they entertained him with their sports, jumping and hopping. And William Penn sprang up gayly like a boy, and joining in their games, beat them all, young Braves and old.

And so the Red Men learned to love and trust their great White Father—Onas they called him. For Onas is Indian for a pen, or a quill.

Such was William Penn’s happy welcome to the City of Brotherly Love.

THE PLACE OF KINGS

It was the last of November. The lofty forest trees on the shore of the Delaware had shed their summer attire. The ground was strewn with leaves. A Council-fire was burning brightly beneath a huge Elm, not far from the City of Brotherly Love.

It was an ancient Elm, which for over a hundred years had guarded Shackamaxon, the Place of Kings. For long before the Pale-faces had landed on the shore of the Delaware, Indian Sachems, Kings of the Red Skins, had held their friendly councils in its shade, and smoked many a Pipe of Peace.

On that November day, the tribes of the Lenni LenapÉ under the wide-spreading branches of the Elm, were gathered around the Council-fire. They were seated in a half circle, like a half moon. They were all unarmed.

Among the Chiefs, was the Great Sachem Taminend, revered for his wisdom and beloved for his goodness. He sat in the middle of the half moon, with his council, the aged and wise, on either hand.

They waited.

Then, lo! a barge approached. At its masthead flew the broad pennant of Governor William Penn. The oars were plied with measured strokes, guiding the barge to land. And near the helm sat William Penn attended by his council.

He landed with his people, and advanced toward the Council-fire. A handsome man he was, only thirty-eight years old, athletic, and graceful. His manners were courteous, his blue eyes were friendly. He was plainly dressed, with a scarf of sky-blue network bound about his waist.

Some of his people preceded him. They carried presents for the Indians, which they laid on the ground before them.

Then William Penn approached the Council-fire.

Thereupon the Great Sachem, Taminend, put on a chaplet surmounted by a horn, the emblem of his power, and through an interpreter announced that the Nations were ready to hear William Penn.

Thus being called upon, William Penn began his speech:—

“The Great Spirit,” he said, “who made me and you, who rules the heavens and the earth, and who knows the innermost thoughts of men, knows that I and my friends have a hearty desire to live in peace and friendship with you, and to serve you to the utmost of our power.

“It is not our custom to use hostile weapons against our fellow-creatures, for which reason we have come unarmed. Our object is not to do injury, and thus provoke the Great Spirit, but to do good.

“We are met on the broad pathway of good faith and good will, so that no advantage is to be taken on either side, but all to be openness, brotherhood, and love.”

Here William Penn unrolled a parchment on which was inscribed an agreement for trading, and promises of friendship. He explained the agreement article by article. Then laying the parchment on the ground, he said that that spot should ever more be common to both Peoples,—Pale-face and Red Skin.

The Indians listened to his speech in perfect silence, and with deep gravity. And when he was finished speaking, they deliberated together, for some time. Then the Great Sachem ordered one of his Chiefs to address William Penn.

The Chief advanced, and in the Sachem’s name saluted him, and taking William Penn by the hand, made a speech pledging kindness and neighbourliness, saying that the English and the Lenni LenapÉ should live together in love, so long as the sun and the moon should endure.

Samuel M. Janney (Retold)

ONAS

After the Treaty was made at the Place of Kings, the Lenni LenapÉ, for many years enjoyed the mild and just rule of their “elder brother Onas.” He met them often around the Council-fire, hearing and rectifying their wrongs, adjusting trade matters, and smoking with them the Pipe of Peace.

And William Penn made treaties with the Indians who dwelt on the Potomac, and with the Five Nations. Thus Pennsylvania had quiet; and the Red Men were friends of the settlers. Sometimes they brought the white men venison, beans, and maize, and refused to take pay. Whereas, in the other Colonies, the Indians were dangerous neighbours, cruel and delighting in blood. They had been made suspicious and revengeful by the injustice and wickedness of white men.

So the Red Men of Pennsylvania, trusted William Penn, although he was a Pale-face. What Pale-face had they ever seen like him? A Pale-face was to them a trapper, a soldier, a pirate, a man who cheated them in barter, who gave them fire-water to drink, who hustled them off their hunting-ground.

But here was one Pale-face, who would not cheat and lie; who would not fire into their lodge; who would not rob them of their beaver skins; who would not take a rood of land from them, till they had fixed and he had paid their price.

Where were they to look for such another lord?

So when they heard that Onas was about to sail for England, Indians from all parts of Pennsylvania gathered to take sorrowful leave of him.

After he was gone, they preserved with care the memory of their treaties with him, by means of strings or belts of wampum. Often they gathered together in the woods, on some shady spot, and laid their wampum belts on a blanket or a clean piece of bark, and with great satisfaction went over the whole. So great was their reverence and affection for William Penn, inspired by his virtues, that they handed on the memory of his name to their children.

. . . . . . . . . .

When William Penn died in England, the Indians sent his wife a message, mourning the loss of their “honoured brother Onas.”

And with the message went a present of beautiful skins for a cloak “to protect her while passing through the thorny wilderness without her guide.”

W. Hepworth Dixon and Other Sources