In the midst of this confused state of affairs in England, the easy-going, pleasure-loving Charles II. died, and his brother, the Duke of York, became king as James II. The new king could make fair promises to his friends, and when William Penn spoke to him about the Quakers, the king promised to show all sorts of favors to them. He had a great deal to say about liberty and about religious toleration.
When the Quakers sent him a petition for clemency, setting forth that there were then thirteen hundred of their creed in prison in England, and that hundreds had died of prison hardships in the past few years, the king was much concerned, and showed his concern by setting free all dissenters who were in prison, including both the Quakers and the Roman Catholics. Probably the king thought to strengthen himself on the throne by this act of clemency; certainly it was providential for the Quakers who had been separated from their families and friends for years, and undoubtedly it made Penn feel very grateful to his sovereign.
Strange as it may seem, there must have been a real intimacy between the straightforward and outspoken Penn and the crafty and double-dealing king. Gerard Croese, who wrote the history of the early Quakers, dwelt upon this strange friendship. "William Penn," he quaintly says, "was greatly in favor with the King—the Quaker's sole patron at court—on whom the hateful eyes of his enemies were intent. The king loved him as a singular and entire friend, and imparted to him many of his secrets and counsels. He often honored him with his company in private, discoursing with him of various affairs, and that, not for one, but many hours together, and delaying to hear the best of his peers who at the same time were waiting for an audience. One of these being envious, and impatient of delay, and taking it as an affront to see the other more regarded than himself, adventured to take the freedom to tell his majesty, that when he met with Penn he thought little of his nobility. The King made no other reply than that Penn always talked ingenuously, and he heard him willingly."
Then the young Duke of Monmouth raised a rebellion and tried to seize the throne. Many Protestants joined his cause, but he was defeated, and there followed the slaughter of all who had sided with Monmouth, or who were even suspected of siding with him. The cruel Judge Jeffreys went through the country leaving a trail of gibbeted heads and ruined homes behind him, thereby bringing the Catholic king and his court in more disfavor than ever with the great Protestant majority of the people. But Penn did not desert the king, although he must have hated the bloodshed that James tolerated in his officers. "The King," said he, "was much to be pitied, for he was hurried into all this effusion of blood by Jeffreys' impetuous and cruel temper." He advised the Quakers to keep quiet and refrain from mixing in public affairs. And meantime he himself used all his influence to protect those who fell under suspicion of disloyalty to the Crown.
The Quakers were glad enough to have a friend at court, and there was no doubt but that Penn was a very influential man. In those days there were many men with some standing at court who were known as "pardon-brokers"; men whose business it was to obtain pardons for persons accused of crimes, usually exacting payment of all the accused person's wealth in return. Penn used his influence to obtain pardons only because of his belief in the innocence of the man or woman under accusation, and this honesty of his, in an age when treachery and deceit were the usual standards, made him more than ever a marked and notable man.
He soon had so many "clients," as those who sought favors of an influential man were called, that he felt obliged to rent Holland House, the London residence of the Earl of Warwick, and he had his own coach and four horses, as well as other luxuries that befitted his position as an intimate friend of the king. These expenses, and the money he was continually giving to his needy Quaker friends, soon began to be a heavy drain on his fortune, and again and again he spoke of wishing he could move his family to the new home in Pennsylvania, taking up there the simple and free life that he had enjoyed so much on his first visit. But his dispute with Lord Baltimore was not yet settled, and he felt too great a responsibility for the Quakers in England to leave London then; he doubtless also enjoyed his new prominence as a courtier; for Penn, in spite of his Quaker simplicity, was in many ways a man who thoroughly appreciated power and influence and the good report of the world.
Matters of state were growing more and more tangled in England. The king was appointing Roman Catholics to office, and was not as well disposed toward the men of the Church of England as the Protestants thought proper. On all sides men and women were plotting for their own advancement, too often changing their religion to suit their ambitions of the moment. Penn, who would preach to a Quaker meeting, and then go to the king's chambers, where he would meet Catholics and priests, seemed to be acting after the general fashion of the time, but nevertheless his intimacy with the king caused gossip and some suspicions of his motives.
He trod a very difficult path in those days, often seeming to be "carrying water on both shoulders." In the summer of 1686 he made another journey to Holland and Germany, and in the former country Penn went to see William, the Prince of Orange, bearing messages, some historians say, from King James to William. This Prince of Orange had married Mary, the daughter of James II. of England, and Mary was next in line of succession to the English throne. Penn's mission seems to have been to persuade William and Mary that there should be religious freedom in England, as King James had proclaimed it, and to this William, who was an ardent Protestant, was only too glad to agree. But when he found that his father-in-law's religious freedom was likely to end in turning England over to the Pope, he was much less enthusiastic, and did not altogether relish the arguments made to him by the Quaker envoy Penn. William himself believed that Penn was an honest man, perhaps hoodwinked by the clever courtiers around King James, but some other people in Holland were not so sure of this, and suspected Penn of being at heart a Catholic, and even spread that report concerning him. Many of the followers of the Prince of Orange—men who were to go with him to England later when he became king of that country—despised and distrusted the Quaker, and Penn seemed unable to set himself right before them. He was getting deeper and deeper into the toils of his peculiar position, for he wished to show himself a sincere Quaker, yet he appeared to be acting in the interest of the Church of Rome.