Chester It Is

What wilt thou I should call this place?” ‘Chester,’ says Pearson. “Chester it is.”
— William Penn

It’s been drizzling all morning in Upland. The few houses near the banks of the Delaware River are awash in shades of gray mirroring hues from the drizzling sky and zinc colored river. The narrow streets Front, Post, Third and Fourth are muddy and saturated from days of rain.

Robert Wade’s brick house on Front Street faces the river. The three-bedroom house is a story-and-half high distinguished by small square windows with thick panes accented with bone white shutters. A small cupola adorns the roof. Adjacent to the house is the mouth of Chester Creek. The creek area is thick with trees, bushes, shrubs and growth. The cold creek currents feed into the Delaware River. Several water fowl fly low to the shoreline in search of food.
From his cupola Wade peers through a brass field glass pointed south. He gently scrolls the focus knob panning left, and a little right. There is nothing on the river today only endless rippling waves.

Wade’s an Irishman and a Friend, commonly called a Quaker. He’s the first member of the Society of Friends to settle among the Swedes and Dutch. Wade’s house has become the official meetinghouse for the Society and is named in recognition for the few meeting as The Essex House.

* * * * *

It’s a warm St. Martin’s day in Deal. William Penn’s long dark hair hangs from his black broad brimmed that. His hair and mustache catch the English seaside breeze blowing the same westerly direction as the ship’s flag.

Robert Greenway is the commander of the three-hundred-ton, 200 foot-long wooden ship named the Welcome. Greenway is hunched over his paper-strewn table writing. Several charts and maps are spread out on the table. He enters the date August 30, 1682 in the ship’s log. Greenway’s course is charted for New Castle, Delaware.

Penn boards the ship early morning. He holds a short prayer service at the bow with several Friends. He prays the Inner Light is with him and the one hundred members of the Society of Friends from Sussex who are making the journey with him. Among the Friends are: Daniel Milnor, Richard Townsend, Samuel Buckley, Sarah Clows, George and Eleanor Pownall and their children: Reuben, Elizabeth, Sarah, Rachel and Abigail.

The anchor is raised as the ship sways and creaks. The Welcome’s main decks are crowded with passengers waving to loved ones.

The main hold is a blend of smells that come from packed crates of vegetables, fruit, flour, dried beans, butter, oil, salts, salted meats, and casks of fresh water. There are chests of clothing, dishes, bedding, and some furniture, building supplies, tools, and seeds for planting crops; everything needed to start a new life. There are a few braziers for families to cook meals but if the sea gets rough they will be discarded and food will be eaten cold.

* * * * *

On October 27, the Welcome drops anchor at the banks of the Delaware River in New Castle, a place rich with thick supple grass accentuating the river’s jigsaw puzzle edge. The New Castle residents greet Penn with fanfare and ceremony. They’ve waiting for him and they are lined along the banks waving and cheering. As Penn steps down the gangway he’s presented with turf, twig and water, the feudal signs of his possession of the three lower counties by the town officials. Tonight he will sleep in a proper bed and have a delicious meal prepared.

Next morning with several rolls of parchment and deeds from the Duke of York under his arm Penn meets with lawyers John Moll and Ephraim Hasrmon. He spends several hours presenting the Dukes paper’s and discusses the matter of Lord Baltimore’s boundaries.

From his meeting he’s obtained the signatures needed to transfer New Castle and all adjoining lands within a twelve mile radius into his possession. With business finished and new relations established, Penn boards the Welcome at early dawn. Greenway pulls anchor and sets sail up river steering to starboard.

* * * * *

The air is still and humid, the river calm and languid. The Indian summer induces Penn to reflect as the ship gently rocks in a somnambulant fashion.

There are three troublesome tasks to confront: resolve this trouble in Upland with Sandelands , lay claim with Lord Baltimore on ownership of Upland and surrounding he says are his own, and on to Philadelphia for meetings to convince Friends to invest in a port on the Schuylkill River. This river reaches deep into the heartland, a natural highway for bringing out timber, furs and crops and on to ships on the Delaware bound for England. Much, much better situated than the topography along Chester Creek.

Penn’s thoughts turn to the long voyage that’s almost come to an end. In spite of all his ardent prayers and ministrations, the small pox took thirty souls; Dennis Rochford’s two daughters among them. He prays.

* * * * *

Robert Wade removes the field glass from his eye. He slowly collapses the extensions of brass tube. Finally, the ship on the river, the one he’s been expecting for so long. The sole passenger who will help and lead the Society of Friends.

A huge splash snaps his reverie. The Welcome drops anchor at the mouth of Chester Creek. Penn observes Upland’s hills and abundant trees growing right down to the river’s edge.
At long last he will see his staunch friend and Quaker ally Robert Wade. Leaning on the quarterdeck railing Penn reaches down and scratches a bite through his dark Gunnister stocking just at the top of the welt. Thomas Pearson, his surgeon joins him at the rail. Both stare at the shore as the Welcome glides to shoreline.

Pearson, providence has brought us here safe. Thou hast been the companion of perils. What wilt thou I should call this place?” ‘Chester,’ says Pearson. “Chester it is.”

The Introduction to a forthcoming work written by J. Prock. A short history of Chester, PA. and its people from 1949 to 1969.