Fort Casimir, built by the Dutch, was surrendered to the Swedes and renamed Fort Trinity. The Dutch planned and executed a sweeping victory on the Delaware in 1655 which ended for all time any colonial claims of Sweden. Their victory was short lived however, for the English had for some time been resentful of the Dutch control of the Hudson River and the splendid harbor at its mouth. Therefore in 1664, Charles II of England granted to his brother, the Duke of York, all lands between the Connecticut and Delaware rivers. The first knowledge of this act came to the Dutch when the English fleet entered the harbor and demanded the surrender of all of Holland's possessions in the New World. With no chance of resistance, New Netherland fell without a blow. In a short time, both the former Swedish possessions, as well as the Dutch possessions on the Delaware, were in control of the English.

The Duke of York leased all of the territory between the Atlantic Ocean and the Delaware River below New York to two of his friends, Lord Berkeley and Sir George Carteret. The latter had been governor of the Island of Jersey in the English Channel, and in his honor the territory was named New Jersey. These two men divided the province into two parts, East Jersey going to Carteret and West Jersey to Lord Berkeley.

Carteret, as early as 1669, sent agents into Connecticut and particularly Massachusetts to "publish consessions" (advertise terms) and induse people to come to his part of New Jersey to settle. The propostion looked alluring and many persons removed to this region. Soon arguments developed over questions of rents and ownership, and these people in considerable numbers moved into northern New Jersey where they were unmolested by problems of titles and ownership for many years. Both parts of New Jersey were later combined and became a Crown colony under a Royal governor.

Well before they lost control of their possessions in the New World the Dutch had found mineral deposits in the upper Delaware valley, particularly on the Jersey side. These deposits were comprised of iron, copper, zinc, lead, some coal, and limestone, and several grades of pottery clay. Dutch miners had displayed at expositions in Holland rich samples of these ores, and by 1700 were engaged in actual production of several metals, chief among which was iron.

Eastern Pennsylvania and northern New Jersey from the very beginning ecelled in iron and steel products. This region enjoyed the favor of iron ore, coal, and limestone. The opportunities presented by this unusual combination of ingredients in close proximity were attracting an increasing number of skilled workmen. Thomas Rutter, a blacksmith (one of the first to establish iron works in the Delaware Valley) was by 1717 "making iron of a quality that the best of the Swedes' iron doth not exceed." The Durham Furnace of Hunterdon County, New Jersey, early became famous for its high-grade iron products. The following note, although somewhat premature, shows the important trend and is given for that purpose: "Official records pertaining to the Revolutionary War, show that the Delaware Valley with the nearby Susquehannah Valley furnished more rifles, cannon, cannon ball, and powder for Washington's army than any other region of the colonies."

Rather early in the history of New Jersey pottery works were established and glass making soon exceeded that of any other colony. "The clean sharp sands of the Delaware were found to be well adapted to glass making and were being used in quantity as early as 1683."

While early in the colonial period England had welcomed the production of pig iron, it was with the idea in mind that this pig iron would become a raw material product and would be shipped to the home country for manufacturing purposes. However, it did not work out as planned; the colonial production of metal goods aroused the resentment of English foundrymen, and immediate steps were taken to control iron and steel manufacturing by stringent laws. After 1700 the English laws tightened drastically on metal working of any kind in the colonies.

There was but one bright light in this otherwise gloomy picture--the mines and foundries were, for the most part, situated in remote and inaccessable places. Ocean going ships, that might carry officers of inspection and enforcement, could not ascend the Delaware River above the Falls which are located at the present city of Trenton. Also these same officers had no liking for a long and arduous trip into the back-country. Therefore, in spite of the English laws to the contrary, mining with its allied occupations continued. These occupations were calling skilled workmen long distances and from far away places. When the "bog ores" of Massachusetts and Connecticut became exhausted the blacksmiths turned to the mining areas of northern New Jersey and eastern Pennsylvania.

Years earlier in England, when the Puritans were being persecuted, many sought refuge with the Ulster Scotch; now that the tables had turned, the Ulster Scotch thought that the Puritans of Massachusetts would be friendly. Thus many of the Ulster Scotch landed in Boston and went on to Worcester and Springfield. Failing to find hospitality extended as they expected, they left these places, crossingthe Hudson River into the Kingston area of New York State. "Their restless overflow met and joined the natural overflow from Massachusetts into northern New Jersey and from there many crossed into eastern Pennsylvania by way of the forks of the Delaware at Easton." Settlements were scattered thinly from New York State into upper New Jersey and the Delaware Valley. Two groups in particular established settlements in which Presbyterian churches were founded as early as 1738. These were located in what became Northampton County, Pennsylania. One at East Allen and the other at Mt. Bethel, a little more than half way between Easton and present Stroudsburg. These groups containing Ulster Scotch, pioneering people from Massachusetts and New York State, and others, forming the northern frontier of Pennsylvania and the western frontier of New Jersey and bore the brunt of the many Indian raids that came later. These people were "noted for their several abilities including agricultural and industral skills; some were well educated and many were skilled artisans."

Thus, we can see how many people of varied interests and capabilities came into this region. Also, light is shed on how it was possible for certain people to be where they were when we find them again. Particularly is this understanding necessary when we again find the Tidds, this time in the Delaware Valley.

On a smoky, hazy November day of Indian summer in the year 1738, a young man, following a trail that hardly deserved the name of road, emerged into a clearing from the heavily wooded higher ground. This clearing of some twenty acres was on the bank of a river. On the farther side of the open space, and near the river, stood a tavern which was a welcome sight, for the hour was noon. Since shortly before dawn the traveller had followed this road up and down hills, some of which were quite steep. In some areas level land would be found a mile or more in width. These level places, crossed by the road, usually were swampy; and the many deep ruts in the road attested to difficult passage by wagons. However, not many wagons used this route due to the lack of improvements. Whatever goods were transported this way were carried by packhorses, and most travelers rode horses. Fewer than a half dozen horses had been passed during the half day's walk, confirming the fact that it was rightly called a wilderness road. The day had warmed considerably which was typical of the season. Early morning frost had lain upon the leaves; and upon fallen logs in open places it had been thick and white. The stillness of the woods was broken at times by the whir of the partridge, and in ravines where the wild grape vines furnished protective coverage as well as abundant food, the gobble of a cautious male turkey gave evidence of good hunting; however the young man in question was not hunting. He did carry a long black rifle, the absence of which would have aroused more surprise than its presence; his powder horn hung at his side, suspended by deerskin thongs looped over the opposite shoulder. The belt, which ordinarily would have encircled his waist, had been removed and placed in a pocket, due to the increasing warmth of the day; allowing the deerskin hunting shirt to hang directly from the shoulders, giving maximum freedom to the body. Deerskin breeches, overlapped by leggings which fitted closely below the knees, and Indian moccasins, completed his attire. He wore a smooth leather cap. His size would not have made him conspicuous in a group for he was little taller than average. If he should have attracted any special attention it would have been because of his general appearance, which was clean-cut; his step quick and springy denoting many years of life in the woods. He carried his shoulders erect, yet with ease. His clothes were clean, suggesting a certain degree of pride. His face was clean shaven.

He approached the tavern as one not entirely unfamiliar with the suuroundings for he had passed through this way less than a week before, and had left his canoe in one of the out-buildings, although he had not gone inside the tavern itself. His plan for the return trip was that he expected to arrive here by noon, eat dinner, and then proceed down river in his canoe. Consequently, he prepared for dinner. A basin and pail of water had been placed on a large block of wood at the side of the building, and a coarse towel hung on a peg nearby. The condition of the towel plainly told of its previous use; however, one corner was found suffiently clean for use. While accomplishing this chore, he noticed several pack horses and four or five saddle horses, suggesting that others would be eating dinner also.

This tavern was situated on the north side of the Pequest River which flows in a westerly direction, emptying into the Delaware. It rises in the hilly, lake-dotted region of upper New Jersey. The river is not large, but does carry a fairly constant amount of water. The channel is quite narrow; therefore the current, in most places, is rather swift and deep. At a time when bridges were uncommon, crossing the stream necessitated either fording or ferrying. Obviously, safety in fording required a very moderate current and shallow water. This condition prevailed for only two or three months in late summer, the remaining months of the year required ferrying, with the possible exception of times when unusual cold would provide a safe crossing on ice. A logical site had been chosen some years before, that would provide for easy ferrying and where the depth of water would permit fording in summer. This site, including the tavern, and a few acres of meadow land, belonged to a man of Dutch ancestry by the name of Ansul Van Paulluns. The place was known as "Van's Inn" or "Paulluns' Ford." At this time Van Paulluns was something over sixty years of age, his wife considerably younger. A brother helped Van in the growing of a few crops and caring for livestock. During the summer some hired help was kept, but this was held at a minimum for Van was one to "watch his coins;" however, no one could say they ever left his table hungry, or that he watered his rum more than the next one.

The tavern itself was merely a double log cabin, double in length but regular in width, with a lean-to on the back side which accomodated the kitchen and storeroom. The east half of the building was used for the inn proper, while the west end served as the private quarters for the Van Paulluns. The entrance to the inn was a door on the south side and at the right hand corner. The young traveler walked through this doorway into a room about twenty feet wide and thirty feet long. Immediately in front of the entrance and against the east end of the room was the bar. At the opposite side of the room from the entrance was a door leading into the kitchen. In front of the bar and occupying a portion of the middle area was a long table that could seat ten or twelve persons. Near the long table, but on the farther side of the room, stood a table, that would seat no more than four persons. On the west side of the room was the huge fireplace with both front and back sides open, showing that it was used for heating both the bar-room and the private quarters of the family. Next to the fireplace and in the same wall was a door leading to the private room of the owners. One large window occupied part of the south or front side of the room, and between the window and the entrance stood a small table large enough for not more than two.

Six or seven men were seated at the long table, and two were eating at the smaller table on the farther side of the room; consequently, the young man took a chair at the table by the entrance, with his back against the wall. This placed the entire room with its occupants in front of him. Van Paulluns, short and fat, was standing behind the bar; and, as the latest arrival took his seat, Van gave him a nod of welcome and at the same time tapped a small bell, as much as to say to the people in the kitchen, "Another plate." A girl, obviously the waitress, walked from the kitchen to his table and said, "It's stew today." "Good enough," he answered, "one plate and a small mug of rum."

He had not long to wait as the other men had already been served. The girl soon appeared bringing two plates, one filled with stew and on the other a large slice of cornbread had been placed, with a knife, fork, and spoon. As she placed these on the table she said, "I'll get the rum." Returning from the bar with the drink she asked, "Why a small mug of rum when a large mug goes with the meal?"

"Well, gal, it's like this, I don't rightly favor the stuff, but sometimes it's needed as a wash. When I'm at home, and it's handy, I drink milk, but I don't figure to rob the kids. They need it mor'n me." And with this speech he raised his eyes and really looked at her for the first time. He looked into a pair of cool grey eyes that were neither bold nor afraid; their coolness and sincerity was refreshing. Her light brown hair was combed back and tied or pinned in a knot at the back of her head. Her features were regular. Although she was somewhat reserved in manner, her facial expression was one of friendliness on guard. Her height was not above average; her general appearance was one of neatness. Her dress was of the greyish-brown material known as linsey-woolsey. She wore elbow length sleeves which exposed a pair of smooth round arms that denoted strength. The hands, fairly small, showed evidence of hard work. A short apron, and a pair of moccasins completed her attire. Her movements were graceful and unhurried. When not actually serving she remained within the kitchen yet seemed to know when service was needed.

The food was very acceptable and appeared to be well prepared. The chunks of beef in the stew were well done but not tough; the vegetables, mostly potatoes and cabbage with a few turnips, were good. The cornbread, covered with a liberal amount of wild honey, was excellent. The rum, neither better nor poorer than any other, was still rum and served as a poor drink folowing the fine flavor of cornbread and honey.

The men at the long table seemed intent on satisfying their hunger; hence little conversation was allowed to interfere with the main occupation of eating. Not so, however, at the table of the two men. One appeared to be about forty years of age, while the other was hardly thirty. The latter had had his rum mug filled three times, and the effects were plainly in evidence. His face was becoming quite flushed and his talk rather loud. With the third filling of his mug, he had made some remark to the waitress which caused her to say, "Better mind your manners if you have any." This reprimand went unheeded. The older man seemed to be trying to restrain his companion, but with little success. The young man by the window had taken notice of the situation, and heard Van Paulluns mutter to himself, "Must be a total stranger," which meant little at the time. Soon a call came from the thirsty one for another mug of rum. He was sitting with his back to the fireplace and his companion was sitting at the opposite side of the table. The girl walked to the table and placed the mug in front of the fellow. As she did so he laid his hand on her arm. She quickly moved her arm to avoid his hand. He became angry and grabbed her arm and said something to the effect, "He'd show her a thing or two," and at the same time started to rise from his chair while still holding the girl's arm. The young man by the window had noticed that she set the mug of rum on the table with her left hand, and that the right hand was in the side pocket of her dress. The next action was so rapid that the eye could hardly follow. There was a sweeping flash of a white arm, a straight over-hand blow and as it descended, the girl seemed to rise to her tip-toes, and as her fist struck, every ounce of her weight and energy were concentrated in the blow. Her fist landed flush on his mouth. There was a roar of rage and pain, blood spurted from his mouth, a front tooth dropped to the floor; he turned to spit into the fireplace and another tooth klinked on the iron grate. He put his fingers to his mouth and out came a third tooth. "Damn! what a blow," thought the man by the window. "A total stranger," muttered old Van Paulluns. The girl moved back a step or two and waited, her left hand quietly at her side, the right hand in the side pocket of her dress. Her eyes, no longer cool and grey, burned with an intensity that boded ill to any further insult. The whiteness of her face and her rapid breathing were the only other evidences of emotion. Apparently no further demonstrations on the part of the drunk were contemplated. His companion hustled him out of the room and to the pail of water outside on the washing block where he rinsed the blood from his mouth. The men at the long table, having finished eating, paid for their meals at the bar and left. Old Van went outside to collect for the other two meals, some argument ensued as to whether or not the bill would be paid. The older man said that his "companion had been mistreated." This drew such a laugh from the other men that he finally paid. After the coins were safe in Van's pocket he remarked, "I knowed he was a total stranger, but they sometimes hafta learn the hard way."

The young man had not yet left the table when the girl came to get the dishes, He said, "Gal, a while back you asked me a question about why didn't I get more rum; now, can I ask you one?" With the faintest of smiles at the corners of her mouth, she replied, "I guess it's your turn."

"Can I see your right hand?" he asked.

"That's not a question," came the answer.

"Gal, that's the biggest question that ever got stuck in my mind. Please, can I see your hand?" Slowly she laid her right hand on the table, palm down. He looked, and then he stared. The skin over the knuckles was somewhat reddened, but that was all; no bones broken--the skin not even bruised. Then he looked at her, amazement, unbelief, incredulity written on his face.

She smiled, "What did you expect?"

He merely shook his head, then said, "You are the only girl I ever told that I would favor getting acquainted with. But that is what I am telling you now. Is there a chance?"

She looked at him thoughtfully, and replied, "After the mid-day work is finished, and before supper must be started, I'll walk with you by the river a short while." With that, she picked up the dishes and went to the kitchen. He arose from the table, paid for the meal, and picking up his rifle, walked out of the tavern and toward the river. Just below the buildings, possibly two hundred yards, gleamed the river in the mid-day sun. Van Paulluns' ferryboat floated at the bank nearest the inn. As the tavern clearing had been made to provide land for Van's crops, some trees along the river bank had been left standing, among which he found a well used path and followed it. About a mile above the inn a white birch tree stood, easily visible from the tavern. The path led to that tree, but no farther. He sat down on a log and pondered. Here he was losing a half day of travel time and for what--to meet and walk with a girl whom he had never seen nor heard of two hours earlier. Why had he told the girl that he wanted to gain her acquaintance? What had he actually asked? Then his mind turned to the tavern incident. This girl was the innocent victim of a drunkard's vile desire. But what a defense she had put up. What a marvelous coordination of mind and muscle had been demonstrated. What a mountain of nerve energy lay within her control. The more he pondered the less he knew; he had never been troubled by questions such as these before. Why? Actually he knew the answer. He had never looked into a pair of cool grey eyes before; in short, he had never seen such a girl before. The passing of time prompted him to return to the ferry, mid-afternoon was approaching. He followed the path back and, finding a log, sat down to wait.

The wait was not long, for soon the girl walked from the front door of the tavern toward the river. Her attire was the same as it had been, minus the apron. The young man was standing by the path.

"I see," said she, "you have found the path. Up the river a mile stands a birch tree, it takes little more than half an hour for the trip and that's all the time I'll have. The best way to get acquainted is for you to do the talking. What's your story?"

"Well, that's not the way I'd planned it," he answered, but knowing he had asked the favor he would take things as they were. Her quiet statement left little choice; therefore, as he fell into step beside her, he began his story. "My name is John Tidd. Ever hear the name Tidd?"

"Yes, I have heard of a place below Easton's trading house, called 'David Tidd's settlement'."

"Good! David Tidd is my father, and with my mother, brothers and sisters, lives on a farm below Easton; but he is a blacksmith and spends most of the time working iron. I pound iron all summer. I can just remember when we moved there from up in York State. My grand-daddy, name of James, was a son of old John Tidd as what came from England a long time back. Granddad and his father had a fall-out. Old John, that's where I got my name, wanted him to be a tailor, James didn;t hanker for that, so he cleared out. Took a job learning how to smelter and pound iron. It's tough work but bettern sewing clothes. Father's story is that Old John died fair rich, but granddad didn' get much. Just enough to buy a pack of tools and a hand forge. He raised his family in the back-country of Massachusetts and that's where father got mother. Later dad went over into York State to help open new ore pits. When these emptied he heard of ore being mined by the Dutch in Jersey so he packed and fell in with a lot headed this way. Some dropped out in Jersey. Uncle Jacob did; he burned clay, didn't like pounding iron all the time. Dad found some land to his liking west of the big river (Delaware) and stayed put. Mother used to say she'd packed far enough. Father learned that he could buy "rough iron" aplenty for his needs. We make harth irons, hinges, and other things. I have just been to visit Uncle Jake; aim to once a year. Aunt Rinda is dead, uncle is alone now but he may pick a wife. He never had no kids. Mostly, to see Uncle Jake I took the Musconetcong River, but I had to be at the Water Gap to deliver a bake oven; so, to save miles I took this river and cut across. That's how I'm here."

As he paused, she asked, "What do you do when not pounding iron?"

"Well, I hanker so much for the woods that I made a bargain with my father; I help him half of the year and I favor myself the other half. I am a trapper and hunter. I made a private treaty with the Indian Chief, Tadame, for a territory in the Pocono Mountains." While saying this he took from an inside pocket a piece of tanned deerskin the size of a dinner plate. On this smooth surface was drawn a rough sketch showing the area between the Delaware and the Susquehanna Rivers. Within the Pocono Mountains the crude map showed plainly a region, forty miles wide by fifty miles in length, marked with definite boundary lines. Around the outer edge and pierced through the deerskin were four bear claws; equi-distant between these claws were four panther claws. Pointing at the encircling row of claws, John said, "The bear claws are Old Tadame's signature, I used panther claws." He carefully folded the map and replaced it in his pocket. While looking at the sketch, they had stopped walking. As they resumed their way he remarked, "I have divided the region into two parts; I trap one part, then give it a rest for a year while working the other part. I have a good shack at each end; so placed that I use them every year. I follow my trap line one day and stay at the far shack that night, then back on the line the next day." He proudly added, "I own thirty steel traps; more than any other trapper hereabouts. I use quite a lot of deadfalls besides my steel traps."

"Do you have much trouble with the Indians?"

"Not with the Delawares, or Munseys, but sometimes a few thieving York State or Northern Injuns come through. If they won't hold by the map and Tadame's treaty, I sometimes have to ask Betty for help."

"Who is Betty?"

He affectionately tapped the barrel of his rifle, "This is Betty, but she hasn't had to help often."

"Do you expect to keep on pounding iron in the summer and trapping in the winters?"

"I had never give much thinking to that," he answered. "Ma always says that will change when I hook up with some girl." As he looked thoughtfully out over the river, he added, as though to himself, "I never had give much thought to that question." They walked silently for a short time, suddenly John realized that they had been to the white birch tree, and were more than half way back to the ferry.

"Say, gal, this hasn't been exactly fair, I've done all the talking. I don't even know your name. What's your story?"

"I am sorry if it's not fair, but we have been getting acquainted, and that's what you asked for."

"But I want to know something about you, what's your name?"

"Again, I am sorry, for our time is spent."

A determined look now appeared on his face, "Listen, young woman, I'll not be put off this way, what's your answer?"

By this time they had nearly reached the ferry. They saw Van Paulluns working the boat across the river to pick up a horse and rider. She turned and looked at John and slowly said, "I have never walked by the river after dark, but if you are still here and wish to, I will again walk with you after supper work is done." And then in a lighter mood, she added, "Which do you want, my real name or my nickname?"

"I want both."

"There isn't time for both," and with what looked like a mischievous smile she said, "They call me, 'Ollie, the Wildcat'." With that she turned and followed the path to the tavern.

"Well, I'll be damned," muttered John. "Ollie, the Wildcat." The recent encounter with the drunk in the tavern could in no sense be considered comparable to the biting, scratching attack of a wildcat ecept for ferocity and singleness of purpose. Well, time would tell. Did he expect to stay for the evening? He had not even thought to ask himself the question. He knew that he would be staying.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in taking a walk through the nearby woods. Upon hearing a gobble in a thicket of wild grape vines, he cautiously approached until, through an opening, there could be seen a big turkey standing guard while a half dozen others were feeding. The opportunity was too good to pass, so he quickly checked the pan of his rifle for sufficient powder. Taking deliberate aim he brought the bird down with one well placed bullet. Carrying the heavy turkey, he went to the tavern, and seeing Van Paulluns in the yard, he offered him the bird. "For this, you shall receive a free supper, and bed, if you stay for the night," exclaimed Van. "You think you stay?"

"Yes, I think I'll stay," replied John.

With supper finished, John returned to the river to wait. He had waited many times before and in many different situations; but this was the first time he had ever waited for a girl, a girl with whom he was to again stroll by the river side. The full moon of Indian Summer had already arisen and begun its short journey across the southern sky. It hung full and red in the hazy atmosphere so characteristic of the season. The air was mild now but there would be frost again by morning as there had been this morning. Was it only this morning that he had left his uncle's house twenty mile away? It seemed much longer, perhaps a week. Things were happening to John Tidd concerning which he was unaware. A door opened at the inn, and against the light of the candles she stood for a moment a silhouette, the door closed and she was lost to view; however, her quick step on the path soon told of her approach. He stood to meet her. "Welcome to the peace and quiet of the river," he said.