Tredyffrin Easttown Historical Society
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Source: April 1941 Volume 4 Number 2, Pages 11–12

The Bull Tavern

Franklin L. Burns

Page 11

A few miles up the Pickering Creek, James Anderson in 1713 resided in a log cabin of one room, one window and one door, on 340 acres of land and was the first settler in the then unbroken wilderness of Charlestown Township. He had been a redemptioner of Thomas Jarman, the Quaker miller of the Great Valley, and had eloped with Elizabeth, the miller's daughter.

Down the same stream near its juncture with the Schuylkill was a native village inhabited within historic times by a band of the Lenapes, better known as the Delaware Indians. Black Rock, on the east side of the river, juts out high above the water. Pennypacker relates an incident which occurred there since which it has become known as Indian Rock. Briefly, it is as follows: An Indian buck, tempted by the promise of a bottle of whiskey, was induced to attempt to leap three times from that lofty pinnacle into the river below. Twice he made the terrific plunge successfully, but not without wounds from the sharp stones in the river bed. He was bleeding from his wounds and wearied from the exertion of the ascent when he essayed the third attempt. Nevertheless, he leaped out into the air once more and down like a stone into the water, never to arise again.

The Bull Tavern

In a frigid winter's morn just before dawn, let us gather in imagination on the bank of yonder stream of the Pickering and there behold a little group of naked and shivering Indian children, who, one by one, are being tossed into the icy water just to harden them, by the squaw; a daily procedure which she declared must be accomplished before the sun appeared.

Let us behold another scene, the last drama, to be enacted before the departure for the west of the last remnant of the tribe, nevermore to set foot upon their native soil. It was in the autumn of 1773, when the time of departure arrived and when an old, worn-out brave and his squaw declared their inability to take the journey, so after they had bade their last farewell, they sat upon the ground, to stoically receive their death blows from the tomahawk. When a member of the band had performed this duty and they had buried the bodies, the band departed. So wrote Judge Pennypacker.

Page 12

Since 1729 all this land around the Tavern and west of Bilton Manor belonged to the aristocratic Tory, Judge William Moore, one of the most fearless and colorful characters of Colonial times. He dwelt in his mansion called Moore Hall, just across the Pickering Creek from here, where he had his grist and flour mill, surrounded by his slaves, and in his declining years confined to his chair by the gout.

In 1731 a petition was granted Richard Thomas and others to open the old Iron or Nutt Road from the furnaces on the French Creek to Paulding's Crossing over the Schuylkill, and in 1734 Judge Moore built Bull Tavern. This tavern of originally two rooms was the first place of entertainment for the traveling public in all this vicinity.

Apparently it was served by tenant landlords until 1773, when William and Wilhemina Moore conveyed it and 60 acres to Benjamin Coates. It then passed to Ephraim Jones in 1779; Edward Lane, 1781; Samuel Lane, 1791, and Edward Lane, the last son and grandson of the preceding.

Samuel Lane enlarged the building and there is a story of his agreement with some fishermen at the mouth of the Pickering, to furnish them with whiskey every morning in exchange for an eight-pound shad. This contract is said to have existed until there were no more shad of the required weight and the fishermen resorted to filling the fish with pebbles to the specified eight pounds, which was of course discovered and the contract cancelled.

In 1816, Edward Lane, et al, conveyed the property to John Morgan, innkeeper, for a consideration of $16,300, and he to Sampson Fudge, 1831, for $5,500. The last named in 1843 enlarged the buildings and, in 1869, sold it to John Acker for $10,104. In 1891, Jacob S., Susan, and Peter Acker convoyed it to Norval Acker, who occupied it until recent times. It was a public house for about 130 years and Fudge was probably the last landlord until recently when it reopened.

It will be noted that the southwest corner of the house extends to the very edge of the road. The barroom was situated in the southeast corner and entered from the south and west. The barn sheltered and fed the draught horses for the four and eight horse Conestoga wagons.

A mile west lie the Corner Stores, so called because there was a store on each of the four corners. It was the early metropolis of Schuylkill Township long before Phoenixville was founded.

Let us once more conjure up the ghosts of the past in and around this old hostel. The Indian, uneasy and suspicious of the changes his white neighbor was making on his ancient hunting ground, yet begging a long drink of fire water -- The mustering of the rustic militia during the French and Indian Wars -- The drill and parade -- The passing of the ox teams loaded with pig iron from the French Creek -- The British Army of Invasion when the tavern bar became like unto the Desert of Sahara -- The ragged and thirsty Continental soldier -- The country dances where the lads and their gals disported -- The election contests and the sanguinary wrestling matches where no holds were barred and eye gouging encouraged -- In fine, the comedy and tragedy -- the customary happenings of a new and raw country-side which have contributed to the most interesting history of this ancient inn.

"Yes, the house is haunted still
By ghosts of days of yore;
And silent figures wander there,
Through each familiar door."