In these days of swift and luxuriously appointed steamships, when the voyage from Europe to America is so quickly and comfortably made, it seems strange to think of regarding it with so much anxiety and apprehension; but in Penn’s time steamships were unknown and travellers had to depend on clumsy sailing vessels, entirely at the mercy of the winds, while the passage, now made easily in from five to seven days, then required at least six weeks, and sometimes, with contrary winds, double that. And aside from the dangers of such a sea voyage, what unknown experiences awaited them in that distant land, where homes must be hewed out from the wilderness, where privation and hardships of every sort must be endured, where death indeed by Indian tomahawk or knife was possible at any moment! Under these circumstances even so brave and resolute a man as William Penn might well feel anxiety over such a voyage and its outcome. For a time he did think of taking with him the wife and children from whom he found it so hard to part, that he might watch over them himself; but the giant task awaiting him beyond the sea claimed all his mind and strength and he feared the care of a family at such a time might defeat the whole purpose of his journey, to say nothing of his dread of exposing them to the dangers and uncertainties of a life of which he had heard more than enough from those who had already experienced it. But Penn had firm faith in God and in the righteousness of a cause which aimed not at personal gain but the bodily and spiritual welfare of thousands, and which if it succeeded must result in the creation of a veritable earthly Paradise. He therefore did all that lay in his power to further it and left the issue in the hands of Providence.
Before leaving he made a sort of testament containing his parting instruction’s to his dear ones, to be kept ever before their eyes. In this he laid particular stress on the proper education of his children, who, if all went well, would one day be called to govern the State of Pennsylvania, and charged his wife to live as economically as possible in other respects, but to spare nothing to this end. The two sons, Springett and William, were to be thoroughly grounded in all branches of knowledge necessary to their future position, especially in agriculture, shipbuilding, surveying, and navigation. The only daughter, Letty or Letitia, was to receive also a suitable training in all domestic affairs. Above all, they were to be taught piety and the fear of God and to strive with all their strength to attain these virtues. “Let your hearts be righteous before the Lord and put your trust in Him,” he concluded; “then no one will have power to harm or injure you.”
Autumn was already approaching before the Welcome, which was to carry Penn across the ocean, was ready to set sail. It was a fine vessel of three hundred tons and larger than most ships crossing the Atlantic in those days, but even its capacity was taxed to the utmost, for more than a hundred colonists, mostly of the wealthier class, were eager to make the voyage with the owner of the new province, and each had to carry sufficient provisions to last possibly for twelve or fourteen weeks. Even then many who had been accustomed to a life of ease and luxury were forced to content themselves with scanty rations lest the supply give out. The quantity of luggage of all sorts required by so many persons was also no small matter, although no one was allowed to carry any material for house fittings, such as doors or windows, but Penn himself, who also took with him a horse. The hold of the ship was full and even the deck lined with chests and boxes when at last, on the first of September, 1682, the Welcome was ready to start on her journey. As soon as Penn had come on board after parting with his family, the anchor was lifted and the good ship sailed away from Deal, followed by the prayers and benedictions of thousands.
It was already late in the season and a dangerous, trying winter voyage was before them, should the passage prove a long one. The winds were fair, however, and all promised well, when the alarming discovery was made that an unmarked and unwelcome guest was on board; namely, the smallpox, one of the worst diseases that could have broken out, since on a crowded vessel it was impossible to prevent infection by isolating the patients. At first the epidemic seemed so mild it was not thought necessary to turn back, but it gradually grew more and more malignant and raged to such an extent that for three weeks deaths were of daily occurrence and more than half of the ship’s company were swept away. There was no physician of any kind on board, but Penn labored heroically to relieve the sufferers, placing all his supplies at their disposal, watching by their bedsides, and endeavoring to banish by the word of God the deadly fear that accompanies contagious diseases. But it was of no avail. Day after day death continued to claim its toll. After the horrors of such an experience, it may be imagined with what joy and rapture the first sight of the shores of America was hailed by those who had survived that terrible nine weeks’ voyage.
Chapter VI
Penn’s Arrival—The Founding of Philadelphia—First General Assembly—Building of the “Blue Anchor”—The First School and Printing Press
On the twenty-seventh of October the Welcome cast anchor before Newcastle, a small village on the strip of land granted to Penn by the Duke of York. News of the arrival of the vessel quickly spread and the entire population, young and old, regardless of nationality, flocked to welcome the long-expected governor. English, Scotch, and Irish stood side by side with the stolid German, the clumsy Hollander, and the fair-haired Swede, all eager to behold at last the man in whose hands lay the moulding of their future. The native children of the wilderness in their strange dress, with high fringed moccasins, an eagle or heron’s feather thrust through the head band, bow in hand, a quiver of feathered arrows fastened to the shoulder, also flocked to meet him. Who can say which gazed with keener interest on the approaching ship flying a great English flag from her masthead, the white men, who had some idea of what to expect from the newcomer, or the redskins, who in spite of their apparently calm indifference must have been inwardly consumed with curiosity to see what sort of man it was in whose name and by whose orders they had met with treatment so different from any that had hitherto been accorded them by white men. Certainly nothing but good-will could have been read in the noble features and the earnest, kindly gaze of the dignified-looking man who now disembarked from the vessel, distinguished only from his companions by the broad blue scarf he wore. As he stepped ashore on the landing stage and received the greetings of his cousin, Markham, a deafening shout burst from the assembled throng. Deeply moved, Penn bowed in acknowledgment of the tribute, and through the tears that glittered in his eyes shone the resolve to merit the confidence so spontaneously expressed.
The following day, after he had somewhat recovered from the long and trying voyage, a meeting of the people was held in the town-hall and the legal documents pertaining to the transfer of the tract were read aloud, after which a deputy of the Duke of York handed to Penn, in the name of his master, a flask of water and a small basketful of earth in token that the land had been actually delivered over to him. The new owner then arose and in his deep rich voice addressed the assembly, which listened in breathless silence to his words. He told how from early youth it had been his dream to found somewhere a free State to be governed by the people, where full liberty of conscience could be enjoyed and the Christian virtues flourish. He explained the principles according to which he had drawn up the constitution for Pennsylvania, and promised that the same laws should be followed in the administration of this additional territory which had been granted to him, assuring the people that the chief power should be exercised by himself only until the new constitution could be put into force, during which time he would endeavor to wield it to the best of his ability for the public good. Lastly he retained all existing officials in their positions as proof that he harbored no prejudices and was disposed to deal fairly in all particulars.
When he had finished speaking a rousing cheer testified to the approval of his audience and he was unanimously urged to retain the governorship of the new territory, making it a part of Pennsylvania. This he promised to take into consideration, leaving the matter to be decided at the next assembly, which was to be held at Upland, a settlement made by the Swedes in Delaware, and up to this time the most important town in that region. This was now Penn’s destination, and as he sailed up the Delaware River his heart must have thrilled with delight at the fresh beauties revealed by each curve of the winding stream, until at last the settlement was reached and he stepped ashore on his own dominions, his Pennsylvania. The spot where Penn first landed is still shown, marked by a solitary pine tree.
Here, too, his arrival was hailed with general rejoicing. Those who had preceded him to America with Markham and done all in their power to carry out his plans looked anxiously for his coming to better their situation, which truly was in need of improvement. They had been received in the most friendly way, it is true, by the Swedish settlers, who had given them all the assistance possible, but their hospitality was unable to afford shelter for all. A few, whose means permitted, had managed to bring over with them enough lumber to build a small house at once, but the majority were forced to live in tents or huts made from clay and the branches of trees, neither of which offered much protection against the severe weather of the winter months. Some had even made use of the caves hollowed out from the high banks of the Delaware by the Indians in former times or dug new ones for themselves, finding them a better shelter than any other available. It was in one of these caves that the first birth in the settlement occurred, and the child, who was named John Key, received from Penn the gift of a building site in the new town he had planned.
His first care was to establish a permanent location for the colonists who had come over with him before they should scatter in search of homes, as the previous ones had done, regardless of any definite plan. Markham was in favor of using Upland, or Chester as Penn now called it, as the nucleus of the future city. But Penn had made a better choice, in which he was supported by Thomas Holme, an experienced surveyor whom he had sent out from England and who had already thoroughly explored the surrounding country. A more favorable spot for the location of a great commercial centre could scarcely have been found than the one thus selected. It was at the junction of the Schuylkill and Delaware Rivers, where the high banks of the latter ensured a safe harbor, while near by Holme had discovered quarries containing an inexhaustible supply of the finest building stone, which would make the construction of houses a comparatively simple matter. Penn lost no time in purchasing this land from the three Swedes to whom it belonged and set to work at once with the assistance of Thomas Holme to draw up plans for laying out the new city, which was to receive the name of Philadelphia, signifying “brotherly love.” This being the ruling principle on which his State was founded, he wished it to attract thither all who had suffered so bitterly from the lack of brotherly love in religious matters. Before a single one of the trees that covered the spot was felled, before a single foundation stone was laid, the plan of the whole city was already clear in Penn’s mind and the enterprising Holme began at once to lay out its streets and public squares. An additional tract of about two square miles was also purchased, so that these might be of ample width and size to afford the future inhabitants plenty of space and air, while the building lots were to be large enough to permit every house to be surrounded by a garden, thus giving the city the appearance, as Penn expressed it, of a green country village.