CKETCHES IN
CRUDE-OIL
SOME ACCIDENTS AND INCIDENTS OF THE PETROLEUM
DEVELOPMENT IN ALL PARTS OF
THE GLOBE
WITH PORTRAITS AND ILLUSTRATIONS
BY JOHN J McLAURIN } i**H-
Author of "A Brief History of Petroleum," "The Story of
Johnstown^ Etc.
'Write the vision * * * that he may run that readeth it." Habakkuk // . 2
'I heard a song, a mighty song." Ibsen
'Was it all a dream, some jugglery that daylight might expose?" N. A. Lindsey
' I will a round unvarnish'd tale deliver." Shakespeare
SECOND EDITION REVISED AND ENLARGED
HARRISBURG, PA.
PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOR
1898
COPYRIGHTED, 1896
COPYRIGHTED, 1898
BY JOHN J. McLAURIN
Bancroft
\
fe
r
i
h
K
^
^TH^WH*VO^
tv)
cometh unto you with a tale which holdeth children from play
and old nun from the chimney-corner. " SIR PHILIP SIDNEY.
is writ is written, would it were better" SHAKESPEARE.
INTRODUCTION
JIFE is too short to compile a book that would cover
the subject fully, hence this work is not a detailed
history of the great petroleum development. Nor is it
a mere collection of dry facts and figures, set forth to show
that the oil business is a pretty big enterprise. But it is a
sincere endeavor to print something regarding petroleum, based
largely upon personal observation, which may be worth saving
from oblivion. The purpose is to give the busy outside world,
by anecdote and incident and brief narration, a glimpse of the
grandest industry of the ages and of the men chiefly responsible
for its origin and growth. Many of the portraits and illustra-
tions, nearly all of them now presented for the first time, will
be valuable mementoes of individuals and localities that have
passed from mortal sight forever. If the reader shall find that
"within is more of relish than of cost" the writer of these
" Sketches " will be amply satisfied.
SECOND EDITION
The first edition of five-thousand copies having been ex-
hausted, the second is now issued. The oil-development is
progressive, hence numerous illustrations and much new matter
are added. Hearty thanks are returned hosts of friends and
the public generally for kindly appreciation of the work. Per-
haps something not thanks may be due the lonely few who
"care for none of these things." This will likely end the
pleasant task of reviewing petroleum's wide field and "living
the old days over again," so it is fitting to pray, with Tiny
Tim, "God bless us every one."
No man Jikes mustard by itself." BEN JONSON.
He has carried every point who has mixed the useful with
the agreeable." HORACE.
(viii)
CONTENTS.
PAGES
CHAPTER I. THE STAR IN THE EAST 1-14
Petroleum in Ancient Times Known from an Early Period in the
World's History Mentioned in the Scriptures and by Primitive
Writers Solomon Sustained Stumbling Upon the Greasy Staple in
Various Lands Incidents and Anecdotes of Different Sorts and
Sizes Over Asia, Africa and Europe.
CHAPTER II. A GLIMMER IN THE WEST 15-24.
Numerous Indications of Oil on this Continent Lake of Asphaltum
Petroleum Springs in New York and Pennsylvania How History is
Manufactured Pioneers Dipping and Utilizing the Precious Fluid
Tombstone Literature Pathetic Episode Singular Strike Geology
Tries to Explain a Knotty Point.
CHAPTER III. NEARING THE DAWN 27-40
Salt- Water Helping Solve the Problem Kier's Important Experiments
Remarkable Shaft at Tarentum West Virginia and Ohio to the
Front The Lantern Fiend What an Old Map Showed Kentucky
Plays Trumps The Father of Flowing Wells Sundry Experiences
and Observations at Various Points.
CHAPTER IV. WHERE THE BLUE-GRASS GROWS 43-58
Interesting Petroleum Developments in Kentucky and Tennessee The
Famous American Well A Boston Company Takes Hold Providen-
tial Escape Regular Mountain Vendetta A Sunday Lynching Party
Peculiar Phases of Piety An Old Woman's Welcome Warm Re-
ception Stories of Rustic Simplicity.
CHAPTER V. A HOLE IN THE GROUND 61-80
The First Well Drilled for Petroleum The Men Who Started Oil on Its
Triumphant March Colonel Drake's Operations Setting History
Right How Titusville was Boomed and a Giant Industry Origi-
nated Modest Beginning of the Greatest Enterprise on Earth
Side Droppings that Throw Light on an Important Subject.
CHAPTER VI. THE WORLD'S LUBRICANT 83-114
A Glance at a Pretty Settlement Evans and His Wonderful Well Heavy
Oil at Franklin to Grease all the Wheels in Creation Origin of a
Popular Phrase Operations on French Creek Excitement at Fever
Heat Galena and Signal Oil-Works Rise and Progress of a Great
Industry Crumbs Swept Up.
CHAPTER VII. THE VALLEY OF PETROLEUM ny-154
Wonderful Scenes on Oil Creek Mud and Grease Galore Rise and Fall
of Phenomenal Towns Shaffer, Pioneer and Petroleum Centre
Fortune's Queer Vagaries Wells Flowing Thousands of Barrels
Sherman, Delamater and "Coal-Oil Johnnie" From Penury to
Riches and Back Recitals that Discount Fairy-Tales.
CHAPTER VIII. PICKING RIPE CHERRIES 157-170
Juicy Streaks Bordering Oil Creek Famous Benninghoff Robbery Close
Call for a Fortune City Set Upon a Hill Allemagooselum to the
Front Cherry Run's Whirligig Romance of the Reed Well Smith
and McFate Farms Pleasantville, Shamburg and Red Hot Expe-
riences Not Unworthy of the Arabian Nights.
CHAPTER IX. A GOURD IN THE NIGHT 1/3-188
The Meteoric City that Dazzled Mankind From Nothing to Sixteen-
Thousand Population in Three Months First Wells and Fabulous
Prices Noted Organizations at Pithole A Foretaste of Hades Ex-
citement and Collapse Speculation Run Wild Duplicity and Dis-
appointment The Wild Scramble for the Almighty Dollar.
(ix)
x CONTENTS.
PAGES
CHAPTER X. UP THE WINDING RIVER 191-210
Along the Allegheny from Oil Creek The First Petroleum Company's
Big Strike Ruler of President Fagundas, Tidioute and Triumph
Hill The Economites Warren and Forest Cherry Grove's Bomb-
shell Scouts and Mystery Wells Exciting Experiences in the Mid-
dle Field Draining a Juicy Section of Oildom.
CHAPTER XL A BEE-LINE FOR THE NORTH 213-230
The Great Bradford Region Looms Up Miles of First-Class Territory
Leading Operators John McKeown's Millions Many Lively Towns
Over the New- York Border All Aboard for Richburg Crossing
into Canada Shaw's Strike The Polar Region Plays a Strong Hand
in the Game of Tapping Nature's Laboratory.
CHAPTER XII. DOWN THE ZIG-ZAGGED STREAM 233-256
Where the Allegheny Flows Reno Contributes a Generous Mite Scrub-
grass Has a Short Inning Bullion Looms Up with Dusters and
Gushers A Peep Around Emlenton Foxburg Falls into Line
Through the Clarion District St. Petersburg, Antwerp, Turkey City
and Dogtown Edenburg Has a Hot Time Parker on Deck.
CHAPTER XIII. ON THE SOUTHERN TRAIL 259-290
Butler's Rich Pastures Unfold Their Oleaginous Treasures The Cross-
Belt Deals Trumps Petrolia, Karns City and Millerstown Thorn
Creek Knocks the Persimmons for a Time McDonald Mammoths
Break All Records Invasion of Washington Green County Has
Some Surprises Gleanings of More or Less Interest.
CHAPTER XIV. MORE OYSTERS IN THE STEW 293-308
Ohio Calls the Turn at Mecca Macksburg, Marietta, Lima and Findlay
Heard From West Virginia Not Left Out Volcano's Early Risers
Sistersville and Parkersburg Drop In Hoosiers Come Out of Their
Shell Colorado, Kansas, Wyoming, Texas and California Help Fla-
vor the Petroleum Tureen.
CHAPTER XV. FROM THE WELL TO THE LAMP 311-342
Transporting Crude-Oil by Wagons and Boats Unfathomable Mud and
Swearing Teamsters Pond Freshets Establishment of Pipe-Lines
National-Transit Company and Some of Its Officers Speculation in
Certificates Exchanges at Prominent Points The Product That
Illumines the World at Various Stages of Progress.
CHAPTER XVI. THE LITERARY GUILD 345-380
Clever Journalists Who Have Catered to People of the Oil-Regions
Newspapers and the Men Who Made Them Cultured Writers, P(5ets
and Authors Notable Characters Portrayed Briefly Short Extracts
from Many Sources A Bright Galaxy of Talented Thinkers Words
and Phrases that Will Enrich the Language for all Time.
CHAPTER XVII. NITRO-GLYCERINE IN THIS 383-406
Explosives as Aids to the Production of Oil The Roberts Torpedo Mo-
nopoly and Its Leaders Unprecedented Litigation Moonlighters at
Work Fatalities from the Deadly Compound Portraits and
Sketches of Victims Men Blown to Fragments Strange Escapes
The Loaded Porker Stories to Accept or Reject.
CHAPTER XVIII. THE STANDARD OIL-COMPANY 409-426
Growth of a Great Corporation Misunderstood and Misrepresented
Improvements in Treating and Transporting Petroleum Why Many
Refineries Collapsed Real Meaning of the Trust What a Combina-
tion of Brains and Capital has Accomplished^Men Who Built Up a
Vast Enterprise that has no Equal in the World.
CHAPTER XIX. JUST ODDS AND ENDS 429-452
How Natural Gas Played Its Part Fire and Water Much in Evidence-
Changes in Methods and Appliances Deserted Towns Peculiar
Coincidences and Fatalities Railroad Episodes Reminiscences of
Bygone Scenes Practical Jokers Sad Tragedies Lights and Shad-
ows Intermingle and the Curtain Falls Forever.
PORTRAITS.
Name Page
Abbott, William H. . . 320
Adams, Rev. Clarence A. 112
Albee, J. P 187
Allen Col M N . . . IAA
Name
Crawford, William R.
Criswell, Robert W.
Crocker, Frederick . .
Crossley, David . .
Cummings, Capt. H. H
Delamater, George W.
Delamater, George B.
Dennison, David D.
Densmore, Emmett
Densmore, James .
Densmore, Joel D. .
Densmore, William
Dewoody, J. Lowry
Dimick, George . .
Dodd, Levi . .
Dodd, Samuel C. T.
Dougall, David
Drake, Col. Edwin L.
Page
. 82
366
.214
. 60
.266
123
42
-371
.446
. 446
. 446
446
. 83
. 261
. 87
423
259
. 60
448
Name /
Hooyer, Col. James P. .
Hopkins, Edward . . .
Hughes, S. B
Hulings, Marcus . . . .
Hunter, Jahu . . . .
Hunter, Dr. W. G. . . .
Hyde Charles . .
'age
82
323
196
246
266
36
60
3/0
82
142
293
261
344
377
373
217
349
261
37i
379
30
217
448
254
218
246
362
77
32
344
366
79
44o
175
344
96
447
149
149
399
373
344
39i
366
349
239
348
443
357
137
357
"3
20
221
273
Ames, Gov. Oliver . .
Anderson, George K. .
Andrews, Charles J. .
Andrews, Frank W.
Andrews, William H.
Angell, Cyrus D. . . .
Archbold, John D. . .
Armor, William C. . .
Babcock, John ....
Barber, F. H. ... .
Barnsdall, Theodore .
Barnsdall, William . .
Bates, Joseph ....
Baum, William T. . .
Bayne S G ....
.46
. 116
.388
. 116
389
. 420
374
442
373
. 217
. 60
32
. 82
Q
Irvin, Samuel P
Janes, Heman . . . .
Jennings, Edward H. .
Jennings, Richard . . .
Johns, Walter R
Johnston, Dr. Frank H.
Jones, Edward C. . . .
Jones, Capt. J. T. . . .
Kantner, H. Beecher . .
Karns, Stephen D. . . .
Kern, Thomas A. . . .
Kerr, J. Melville . . . .
Kier, Samuel M. . . . .
Beers Henry I ...
. 191
. 16=;
Eaton, Rev. S. J. M. .
Egbert, Dr. A. G. - -
Egbert, Dr. M. C. - .
3/6
. 60
- 133
60
Bell Edwin C . .
. -*68
Benninghoff, John - .
Bishop, Coleman E. .
Bissell, George H. . .
Bleakley, Col. James .
Bloss Henry C
157
344
. 60
87
Emery, Lewis ....
. 217
. 82
Lambing, James M. . .
Leckey, Robert . . . .
Lee John H
Fassett, Col. L. H.. .
Fertig, John ....
Fertig, Samuel S. . .
Fisher, Frederick . .
Fisher Henrv ....
449
. 127
. 121
317
^17
Bloss, William W. . .
Boden, Frederick . .
Booth, J. Wilkes . . .
Borland, James B. . .
Bowen, Frank W. . -
Bowman, J. H. ...
Boyle, Patrick C. . . .
Brewer, Dr. F. B.
Brigham, Samuel P. .
Brown, Samuel Q. . .
Brownson, Marcus . .
Buchanan, George . .
Cady Daniel . .
344
. 218
. 104
349
359
344
3S7
. 60
350
. 149
-258
. 22
7O
Leonard, Charles C. . .
Lock, Jonathan . . . .
Lockhart, Charles . . .
Longwell, W. H. - . .
Mapes, George E. . . .
Martin Z
Fisher, John J
Forman, George V. . .
Forst Barney ....
.317
.326
. 28s
Fox, W r illiam L. . . .
Funk, Capt. A. B. . .
Galey, John H
Galloway, John . . .
Goe, Bateman ....
Grandin, Elijah B. . .
Grandin, John L.. . .
Gray, Samuel H.. . .
Greenlee, C. D. ...
Griffith, W. E
243
. 127
- 254
. 180
218
. 202
. 202
377
285
-283
82
Martindale, Thomas . .
Metcalfe, L. H
Miller, Charles . .
Miller, T. Preston . . .
Mitchell, Foster W. - -
Mitchell, John L. . . .
Mitchell, J. Plumer . .
Moorhead, Joseph . . -
Morton, Col. L. M. . . -
Munson, William . . .
Murray, F. F
Muse, James B
Myers, J. J
McCalmont, S. P. . . .
McCargo, David . . . .
McClintock, Homer . .
McCray, James S. . . .
McCullagh, W. J. ...
McDonough, Col. Thos.
McDowell, Col. Alex. .
McKeown, John . . . .
McKinney, j. Curtis . .
Cain, Col. John H. . .
Campbell, John R. . .
Carnegie, Andrew . .
Carroll, Reuben . . .
Carroll, R. W
Carter, Col. John J. .
Chambers, Wesley . .
Clapp, Edwin E. . .
Cochran, Alexander .
Cochran, Robert L. .
Colman, Moses J. . .
Cone, Andrew ....
Cone, Mrs. Andrew .
Conver, Peter O . .
. 9
-323
443
. 229
. 229
. 222
150
. 194
. 102
346
. 104
- 354
354
"?SI
Guffey, James M. . . .
Guffey, Wesley S. . .
Haflfey, Col. J. K. . .
Hanna, J. Lindsay . .
Harley, Henry ....
Harley, Stephen W. .
Hasson, Capt. William
Henry, Col. James T.
Hess, Michael Edic .
Heydrick, Jesse . . .
. 250
250
371
: 87
. 320
.368
. 116
344
295
. 191
Cornen, Peter P . .
165
Crane, Rev. Ezra G. .
Crawford, Dr. A. W. .
Crawford, John P. . .
. 112
. 240
. 107
Xll
ILLUSTRA riONS.
Name Page
McKinney, John L. . . 273
McLaurin, John J. . . .
Frontispiece
McMullan, W. S. ... 90
McMullen, Justus C. . . 374 i
Needle, George A. . . .368
Negley, John H. ... 369
Nesbitt, George H. . . 261
Neyhart, Adnah .... 202
Nicklin, James P. ... 84
Noble, Orange 42
O'Day, Daniel 323
Oesterlin, Dr. Charles 432
Osmer, James H. . . 236
Painter, William . .
Persons, Charles E.
Phillips, Isaac N. . 135
Phillips, John T. . . 135
Phillips, Thomas M. 135
Phillips, Charles M.
Phillips, William .
Phillips, Fulton . .
Phipps, Porter . . .
Place, James M. . . 366
Post, A. G. . . . 443
Plumer, Frederick . 246
Plumer, Warren C.
Ponton, John 362
Pratt, Charles 421
Prentice, Frederic . . . 109
Rattigan, P. A 369
Raymond, Aaron W. . 87
Reed, William 162
Reineman, Isaac - . 447
Reisinger, Col. J. W. H. 350
Name Page
Reno, Gen. Jesse L. . . 234
Rial, Edward .... 88
Roberts, Col. E. A. L. . 382
Roberts, Dr. Walter B. . 382
Rockefeller, John D. . . 409
Rouse, Henry R. . . . 116
Rowland, James W. . .300
Rumsey, George . . . . 239
Satterfield, John . . . . 258
Seep, Joseph 335
Shamburg, Dr. G. . . . 167
Shannon, Philip M. . . . 198
Shaw, John 226
Sheakley, Gov. James . 182
Sheasley, Jacob .... 82
Showalter, J. B. . . . . 445
Sibley, Edwin H. . . . 377
Sibley, Joseph C. ... 96
Simonds, Joseph W. . . 104
Simpson, Robert .... 359
Siviter, W r illiam H. . . 357
Smiley, Alfred W. . . . 181
Smiley, Edwin W. - . . 347
Smiley, J. Howard . . 347
Smith, George P 90
Smith, J. Harrison . . . 347
Smith, William A. ... 61
Smithman, JohnB. . . .447
Snell, Alfred L 374
Snowden, Rev. N. R. . 20
Speedily, Samuel . . . 432
Staley, W. H 210
Stevens, William H. . . 442
Stewart, Samuel .... 169
Stone, Charles W. . . 206
Stuck, Col. Edward H. 357
Swan, B. E. 101
Name
Tarbell, Franklin S. .
Tarr, James S. ...
Taylor, Frank H. . .
Taylor, Hascal L. . .
Taylor, O. P
Thompson, William A.
Thomson, Frank . .
Thropp, Miss Amelia .
Titus, Jonathan . . .
Truesdell, Frank W. .
Tyson, James ....
Page
. 116
. 292
357
.258
223
392
442
362
Vanausdall, John . . .116
Vandergrift, Capt. J. J. 326
Vandergrift, T. J. . . .209
Watson, D. T 446
Watson, Jonathan ... 60
Watson, Lewis F. . . . 206
Welch, Philip C. . . .. . 359
Wenk, Jacob ..... 350
Wetter, Henry .... 252
Whitaker, Albert P. . . 346
Whitaker, William S. . 346
White, Charles E. . . . 357
Wicker, Charles C. . . 360.
Williams, Samuel L. . . 364
Yewens, Rev. Harry L. 345
Young, Samuel .... 370
Young, W. J 269
Youngson, A. B 443
Youngson, J. J 443.
Zane, John P 116
Zeigler, H. C 300
Zeigler, Col. Jacob . . . 370-
ILLUSTRATIONS.
Page
Oil-Weils in India 6
View in Oil City, Pa., after the flood,
March 17, 1867 26
Baku, Russia and Bakany Views . . 14
Notable Wells on Oil Creek in 1861-2-3. 42
Map of Venango County 59
Early Operators on Oil Creek .... 60
Group Picture Maj. W. T. Baum,
Jacob Sheasley, Henry F. James,
James Evans, W. R. Crawford, Dan-
iel Grimm, Col. Jas. P. Hoover . . 82
Miller & Sibley's Prospect Hill Stock
Farm, Franklin, Pa 115
Group Picture John Vanausdall, G.
K. Anderson, Wm. Phillips, F. S.
Tarbell, F. W. Andrews, Capt. Wm.
Hasson, Henry R. Rouse, John P.
Zane. D. W. Kenney's Allema-
goozelum City Well No. 2 116
Petroleum Centre, 1894 I 3 l
Wells on Benninghoff Run, Venango
Co., Pa., in 1866 . . . 156
General View of Pithole in August,
i895 - - 172
Page
Parker Oil Exchange in 1874 190
Up the Allegheny River 212
Views at St. Petersburg, Edenburg and
Other Places ... . 232-
KarnsCity, Greece City, Petrolia,i873;
Group of Hascal L. Taylor, Marcus
Brownson and John Satterfield . . 258
Group Picture Richard Jennings, S.
D. Karns, George Nesbit and George
Dimick 261
Armstrong Well 281
Views on the Tarr Farm, Oil Creek,
in 1863-6. Refinery and Oil-Wells
at Russia and Baku 292
Pond Freshet at Oil City, March, '63 . 310
A Cluster of Pioneer Editors 344
Group Picture F. F. Murray, Frank
W. Truesdell, R.W. Criswell, James
M. Place and George E. Mapes . . 366-
Group Picture Col. J. K. Haffey, D.
A. Dennison, Thomas A. Kern and
Charles F. Persons 371
Well Flowing Oil After Torpedoing . 382
Standard Building, 26 Broadway, N.Y. 408-
THE STAR IN THE EAST.
PETROLEUM IN ANCIENT TIMES KNOWN FROM AN EARLY PERIOD IN THE
WORLD'S HISTORY MENTIONED IN THE SCRIPTURES AND BY PRIMITIVE
WRITERS SOLOMON SUSTAINED STUMBLING UPON THE GREASY STAPLE
IN VARIOUS LANDS INCIDENTS AND ANECDOTES OF DIFFERENT SORTS AND
SIZES OVER ASIA, AFRICA AND EUROPE FOR THE STUFF.
1 The mprningj star in all its splendor was rising in the East.' 1 Felix Dahn.
' Alone in the increasing darkness * * * it is a beacon light." Disraeli.
' It were all one that I should love a bright particular star." Shakespeare.
' The years that are gone roll before me with their deeds." Ossian.
' Oil out of the flinty rock." Deuteronomy xxxii: 13.
' And the rock poured me out rivers of oil."; Job xxix : 6.
' Will the Lord be pleased with * * * ten-thousands of rivers of oil?" Micah-ui:f.
' I have myself seen pitch drawn out of the lake and from water in Zacynthus." Herodotus.
4 The people of Agrigentum save oil in pits and burn it in lamps." Dioscorides.
v ' Can ye not discern the signs of the times? " St. Matthew xvi: 3.
ETROLEUM, a name to conjure with and weave
romances around, helps out Solomon's oft-mis-
applied declaration of " No new thing under the
sun." Possibly it filled no place in domestic
economy when the race, if the Darwinian theory
passes muster, sported as ring-tailed simians,
yet the Scriptures and primitive writers mention
the article repeatedly. Many intelligent persons,
recalling the tallow-dip and lard-oil lamp of
their youth, consider the entire petroleum-busi-
ness of very recent date, whereas its history
goes back to remotest antiquity. Naturally they
are disappointed to find it, in various aspects,
' ' the same thing over again. ' ' Men and women
in the prime of life have forgotten the flickering
pine-knot, the sputtering candle or the smoky sconce hardly long enough to
associate rock-oil with "the brave days of old." This idea of newness the
host of fresh industries created by oil-operations has tended to deepen in the
popular mind. Enjoying the brilliant glow of a modern argand-burner, double-
wicked, silk-shaded, onyx-mounted and altogether a genuine luxury, it seems
hard to realize that the actual basis of this up-to-date elegance has existed from
time immemorial. Of derricks, drilling-tools, tank-cars, refineries and pipe-
lines our ancestors were blissfully ignorant ; but petroleum itself the foundation
of the countless paraphernalia of the oil-trade of to-day, flourished "ere Noah's
flood had space to dry." Although used to a limited extent in crude-form for
thousands of years, it was reserved for the present age to introduce the grand
illuminant to the world generally. After sixty centuries the game of " hide-and-
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
seek" between Mother Earth and her children has terminated in favor of the
latter. They have pierced nature's internal laboratories, tapping the huge oil-
tanks wherein the products of her quiet chemistry had accumulated " in bond,"
and up came the unctuous fluid in volumes ample to fill all the lamps the
universe could manufacture and to grease every axle on this revolving planet!
The demon of darkness has been exorcised from the gloomy caverns of old to
make room for the modern angel of light. Science, the rare alchemist which
converts the tear of unpaid labor into a steam-giant that turns with tireless arm
the countless wheels of toil, lays bare the deepest recesses of the past to bring
forth treasures for the present.
The capital invested in petroleum in this country has increased from one-
thousand dollars, raised in 1859 to drill the first well in Pennsylvania, to six-
hundred-millions. It is just as easy to say six-hundred-million dollars as six-
hundred-million grains of sand, but the possibilities of such a sum of money
afford material for endless flights of the imagination. Thirty-thousand miles of
pipe-lines handle the output most expeditiously, conveying it to the seaboard at
less than teamsters used to receive for hauling it a half-mile. Ten-thousand
tank-cars have been engaged in its transportation. Seventy-five bulk-steamers
and fleets of sailing-vessels carry refined from Philadelphia and New York to the
most distant ports in Europe, Africa and Asia. " Astral Oil" and " Standard
White" have penetrated "wherever a wheel can roll or a camel's foot be
planted." In Pennsylvania, South-eastern Ohio and West Virginia thirty- five-
million barrels have been produced and eight-thousand wells drilled in a single
year. Add to this the results of operations in North-eastern Ohio, Indiana,
Kentucky, Tennessee, Kansas, Colorado, Wyoming and California, and it must
be acknowledged that petroleum is entitled to the chief seat in the synagogue.
Edward Bellamy may, perhaps, be imitated
profitably and pleasantly in this connection
by ' ' Locking-Backward. "
Looking forward is the proper kink,
Smooth as skating in an icy rink,
In one's planning how to fill a chink
At manifold times and places ;
But for winning in a thoughtful think,
Past and present joining with a link
Guaranteed to wash and never shrink,
Looking backward holds four aces.
Precisely how, why, when, where and by
whom petroleum was first discovered and
utilized nobody living can, and nobody dead
will, tell anxious inquirers. The information
has "gone where the woodbine twineth," to
join the dodo, the megatherium, the ichthyo-
saurus and the "lost arts" Wendell Phillips
embalmed in fadeless prose. An erratic Joe-
Millerite has traced the stuff to the Garden of Eden in a fashion akin to the
chopping logic of the Deacon's "Wonderful One-Horse Shay." Hear him :
"Adam had a fall?"
"Sure as death and taxes."
"Why did he fall with such neatness and dispatch?"
"Maybe he took a spring to fall."
"Naw ! Because everything was greased for the occasion ! Unquestionably
THE BAD BOY'S IDEA OF ADAM'S FALL.
THE STAR IN THE EAST. 3
the only lubricant on this footstool just then was the petroleum brewed in God's
own subterranean stills. Therefore, petroleum figured in Eden, which was to
be demonstrated according to Hoyle. See ? ' '
There is no "irrepressible conflict" between this reasoning, the version of
the Pentateuch and the idea of Peck's Bad Boy that "Adam dumb a appul-
tree to put coal-oil onto it to kill the insecks, an' he sawed a snaik, an' the oil
made the tree slippy, an' he fell bumpety-bump ! " What a heap of trouble
would have been avoided if that pippin had been soaked in crude-oil, that Eve
might turn up her nose at it and give the serpent the marble heart ! As Miss
Haney expresses it :
" O Eve, little Eve, if you only had guess'd
Who it was that tempted you so,
You 'd have kept out of mischief, nor lost your nice home
For the sake of an apple, I know."
Other wags attribute the longevity of antediluvian veterans to their unstinted
use of petroleum for internal and external ailments ! Had medical almanacs,
patent nostrums and circus-bill testimonials been evolved at that interesting
period, the oleum-vender would have hit the bull's-eye plump in the center.
Guess at the value of recommendations like these, with the latest accompani-
ment of ' ' before-and-after " pictures in the newspapers :
LAND OF NOD, April i, B. C. 5678. This is to certify that I keep my strength up to black-
smith pitch by frequent applications of Petroleum Prophylactic and six big drinks of Benzine
Bitters daily. Lifting an elephant, with one hand tied behind me, is my favorite trick.
SANDOW TUBAL-CAIN.
MT. ARARAT, July 4, B. C. 4004. Your medicine is out of sight in our family. It relieved
papa of an overdose of fire-water, imbibed in honor of his boat distancing Dunraven's barge on
this glorious anniversary, and cured Ham of trichina yesterday. Mamma's pug slid off the upper
deck into the swim and was fished out in a comatose condition. A solitary whiff of your Pungent
Petroleum Pastils revived him instantly, and he was able to howl all night.
SHEM & JAPHETH.
SOMEWHERE IN ASIA, Dec. 21, B. C. 4019. Your incomparable Petroleum Prophylactic, which
I first learned about from a college chum, is a daisy-cutter. Thanks to its superlative virtues, I
have lived to be a trifle older than the youngest ballet-girl in the " Black Crook." I celebrated
my nine-hundred-and-sixty-ninth birth-day by walking umsteen miles before luncheon, playing
left-tackle with the Y. M. C. A. Foot-ball Team in the afternoon and witnessing " Uncle Tom's
Cabin" two Topsys, two Markses, two Evas, two donkeys and four Siberian Bloodhounds
in the evening. Next morning's paper flung this ticket to the breeze :
" For Mayor of Jeroosalum
We nominate Methoosalum."
By sticking faithfully and fearlessly to your unrivaled elixir I expect to round out my full
thousand years and run for a second term. Refer silver-skeptics and gold-bug office-seekers to
me for particulars as to the proper treatment. GROVER LINGER LONGER METHUSELAH.
PLEASANT VALLEY, Oct. jo, B. C. 55551 just want to shout " Eureka," " Excelsior,"
"Hail Columbia, 1 ' " E Pluribus Unum," and give three cheers for your Kill-em-off Kerosene !
Both my mothers in-law, who had bossed me seventy decades, tried a can of it on a sick fire
this morning. Their funeral is billed for four o'clock p. m. to-morrow. Send me ten gallons
more at once. BRIGHAM YOUNG LAMECH.
ISLES OF GREECE. I defy the Jersey Lighting to knock me out while your Benzine Bitters
are in the ring. " A good thing ; push it along." SULLIVAN AJAX.
Leaving the realm of conjecture, it is quite certain that the "pitch" which
coated the ark and the "slime" of the builders of Babel were products of
petroleum. Genesis affirms that "the vale of Siddim was full of slime-pits"
language too direct to be dismissed by hinting vaguely at "the mistakes of
Moses." Deuteronomy speaks of "oil out of the flinty rock " and Micah puts
the pointed query: "Will the Lord be pleased with * * * ten thousands of
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
1 WELL,
THIS
BEATS
THE
DEUCE
rivers of oil ?" To the three friends who condoled with him in his grievous
visitation of boils the patriarch of Uz asserted : " And the rock poured me
out rivers of oil." Whatever his hearers might think of this apparent stretch
of fancy, Job's forecast of the oleaginous output was singularly felicitous.
Evidently the Old -Testament writers, whose wise heads geology had not
muddled, knew a good deal about the petro-
leum situation in their day.
A follower of Voltaire was accustomed to
wind up his assaults on inspiration by criti-
cising these oily quotations unmercifully.
"Could anything be more absurd," he would
ask, ' ' than to talk of 'oil from a flinty rock '
,_, ^,n^====^=^==^ iimi-5^ an d 'rocks pouring forth rivers of oil?' If
I? ^$L\ "'" ~~~"^K ' * anything were needed to prove the Bible a
1/^7 - ^S? fool-book, from start to finish, such utter-
ances would settle the matter beyond dis-
pute. Rocks yielding rivers of oil cap the
climax of ridiculous nonsense ! Next they'll
want folks to believe that Jonah swallowed
the whale, hair and hide and breeches. Bah!"
Months and years passed away swiftly,
as they have a habit of doing, and the sturdy
agnostic continued arguing pluckily. At
length tidings of oil-wells flowing thousands of barrels of crude reached him
from William Penn's broad heritage. He came, he saw and, unlike Julius Caesar,
he surrendered unconditionally. Remarking, ''This beats the deuce!" the
doubter doubted no more. He revised his opinions, humbly accepted the
gospel and professed religion, openly and above-board. Hence the petroleum-
development is entitled to the credit of one notable conversion, at least, and the
balance is on the right side of the ledger, assuming that a human soul out-
weighs the terrestrial globe in the unerring scales of the Infinite.
Can they be wrong, who think the stingy soul
That grudges honest toil its scanty dole
Not worth its weight in slaty, sulphur coal ?
Whether petroleum, which literally signifies "rock-oil," be of mineral,
vegetable or animal origin matters little to the producer or consumer, who
views it from a commercial standpoint. In its natural state it is a variable
mixture of numerous liquid hydro-carbons, holding in solution paraffine and
solid bitumen, or asphaltum. The fountains of Is, on the Euphrates, were
familiar to the founders of Babylon, who secured indestructible mortar for the
walls of the city by pouring melted asphaltum between the blocks of stone.
These famous springs attracted the attention of Alexander, Trajan and Julian.
Even now asphaltum procured from them is sold in the adjacent villages. The
commodity is skimmed off the saline and sulphurous waters and solidified by
evaporation. The ancient Egyptians used another form of the same substance
in preparing mummies, probably obtaining their supplies from a spring on the
Island of Zante, described by Herodotus. It was flowing in his day, it is flow-
ing to-day, and a citizen of Boston owns the property. Wells drilled near the
Suez canal in 1885 found petroleum. So the gay world jogs on. Mummified
Pharaohs are burned as fuel to drive locomotives over the Sahara, while the
Zantean fount whose oil besmeared "the swathed and bandaged carcasses " is
THE STAR IN THE EAST. 5
purchased by a Massachusetts bean-eater ! Yet victims of " that tired feeling "
turn to namby-pamby novels of the Laura-Jean-Libby brand for real romance !
" For truth is strange, stranger than fiction."
Asphaltum is found in the Dead Sea, the supposed site of Sodom and
Gomorrah, and on the surface of a chain of springs along its banks, far below
the level of the ocean. Strabo referred to this remarkable feature two thousand
years ago. The destruction of the two ill-fated cities may have been connected
with, if not caused by, vast natural stores of this inflammable petroleum. The
immense accumulations of hardened rock-oil in the center and on the banks of
the sea were oxidized into rosin-like asphalt. Pieces picked up from the
waters are frequently carved, in the convents of Jerusalem, into ornaments,
which retain an oily flavor. Aristotle, Josephus and Pliny mention similar
deposits at Albania, on the shores of the Adriatic. Dioscorides Pedanius, the
Greek historian, tells how the citizens of Agrigentum, in Sicily, burned petro-
leum in rude lamps prior to the birth of Christ. For two centuries it lighted
the streets of Genoa and Parma, in northern Italy. Plutarch describes a lake
of blazing petroleum near Ecbatana. Persian wells have produced oil liber-
ally for ages, under the name of "naphtha," the descendants of Cyrus, Darius
and Xerxes consuming the fluid for its light. The earliest records of China
refer to petroleum and small quantities have been found in Thibet. An oil-
fountain on one of the Ionian Islands has gushed steadily for over twenty
centuries, without once going on a strike or taking a vacation. Austria and
France likewise possess oil-springs of considerable importance. Thomas
Shirley, in 1667, tested the contents of a shallow pit in Lancashire, England,
which burned readily. Rev. John Clayton visited it and wrote in 1691:
" I saw a ditch where the water burned like brandy. Country-folk boil eggs and meat in it."
Near Bitche, a small fort perched on the top of a peak, at the entrance of
one of the defiles of Lorraine, opening into the Vosges Mountains a fort
which was of great embarrassment to the Prussians in their last French cam-
paign and in the valley guarded by this fortress stand the chateau and village
of Walsbroun, so named from a strange spring in the forest behind it. In the
middle ages this fountain was famous. Inscriptions, ancient coins and the
relics of a Roman road attest that it had been celebrated even in earlier times.
In the sixteenth century a basin and bath for sick people existed. No record
of its abandonment has been preserved. In the last century it was rediscovered
by a medical antiquarian, who found the naphtha, or white petroleum, almost
exhausted.
Nine years ago Adolph Schreiner died in a Vienna hospital, destitute and
alone. Yet he was the only son of a man known in Galicia as " the Petroleum
King ' ' and founder of the great industry of oil-refining. The father shared the
lot of many inventors and benefactors, increasing the world's wealth untold
millions and poverty-stricken himself in his last days. Schreiner owned a piece
of ground near Baryslaw from which he took a black, tarry muck the peasants
used to heal wounds and grease cart-axles. He kneaded a ball from the slime,
stuck a wick into it and a red flame burned until the substance exhausted.
This was the first petroleum-lamp! Later Schreiner heard of distillation, filled
a kettle with the black earth and placed it on the fire. The ooze boiled over
and exploded, shivering the kettle and covering the zealous experimenter with
deep scars. He improved his apparatus, produced the petroleum of commerce
and sold bottles of the fluid to druggists in 1853. He drilled the first Galician
oil-well in 1856 and built a real refinery, which fire destroyed in 1866. He re-
SKECHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
built the works on a larger scale and fire blotted them out, ruining the owner.
Gray hairs and feebleness had come, he ceased the struggle, drank to excess
and died in misery. His son, from whom much was expected, failed as a mer-
chant and peddled matches in Vienna from house to house, just as the aged
brother of Signer Blitz, the world-famed conjuror, is doing in Harrisburg to-
day. Dying at last in a public hospital, kindred nor friends followed the poor
outcast to a pauper's grave. "Vanity of vanities, all is
vanity and vexation of spirit."
Life's page holds each man's autograph-
Each has his time to cry or laugh,
Each reaps his share of grain or chaff,
But all at last the dregs must quaff
The tombstone holds their epitaph.
Around the volcanic isles of Cape Verde oil floats on
the water and to the south of Vesuvius rises through the
\ "WHnnili^HIt Mediterranean, exactly as when " the morning stars sang
\-i 3 W V |^?1P1 to S' ether - ' ' Hanover, in Germany, boasts the most north-
erly of European "earth-oils." The islands of the Otto-
man Archipelago and Syria are richly endowed with the
same product. Rournania is literally flowing with petro-
leum, which oozes from the Carpathians and pollutes the
water-springs. Turkish domination has hindered the de-
velopment of the Roumanian region. Southern Australia
is blessed with bituminous shales, resembling those in
Scotland, good for sixty gallons of petroleum to the ton.
The New-Zealanders obtained a meager supply from the
hill-sides, collecting carefully the droppings from the in-
terior rocks, and several test-wells have resulted satisfac-
torily. The unsophisticated Sumatrans, whose straw-huts
and squeaky music rendered the Javanese village at the
Columbian Exposition a tip-top novelty, stick pipes in
rocks and hills that trickle petroleum and let the liquid
drop upon their heads until their bodies are sleek and
slippery as an eel. Chauncey F. Lufkin, of Lima, Ohio,
inventor of the "Disk Powers" that make oil-wells al-
most pump themselves, says it is funnier than a three-
ringed circus to watch a group of half-clad girls and
women, two-thirds of them carrying babies, taking turns
He has traveled through the oil-fields of Sumatra, India and
Russia and his kodak has reproduced many odd scenes for the delectation of
his friends. Two companies drilling in Java propose to find out all about its
oil-resources as quickly as the tools can reach the decisive spot. Ultimately
Java coffee may be tinged with an oily flavor that will tickle the palates of con-
sumers and set them wondering how the new aroma escaped their notice so
persistently. Verily, "no pent-up Utica confines" petroleum within the nar-
row compass of a nation or a continent. With John Wesley it may exultingly
exclaim : " The whole earth is my parish," or echo the Shakespearean refrain :
"The world's mine oyster."
J. W. Stewart, of Clarion, has been in Africa drilling for oil. An English
syndicate is behind the enterprise and test-wells are to be bored in the gold-
fields on the southern coast. Stewart, who returned lately, says it is amusing
OIL IN SUMATRA.
at this operation.
THE STAR /A THE EAST.
to see the monkeys climb up a derrick and watch the drillers at work. Just
how amused they will be, if the Englishmen strike a spouter that drenches the
monkeys and the derrick, each must diagram for himself until the result of
carrying the petroleum-war into Africa is decided. C. E. Seavill, since 1874
mining-and-land agent at Kimberley, in the diamond-fields of South Africa, has
organized a company with seventy-five-thousand dollars capital to operate at
Ceres, eighty miles north of Cape Town. He has leased enormous tracts of
land, which American experts pronounce likely to prove rich oil-territory, and
the first well will be drilled at a spot selected by W. W. Van Ness, of New York,
an authority on petroleum. Mr. Seavill spent years endeavoring to educate the
people up to the notion that South Africa might be good for something besides
gold and precious stones. A series of gushers in the Ceres district, big enough
to discount yellow nuggets and sparkling gems, should be the fitting reward of
his enterprise. Perhaps Heber's missionary-hymn may yet start like this, when
the Hottentots pose as oil-operators :
From Java's spicy mountains,
From Afric's golden strand,
Come tales of oily fountains
Roll'd up by the third sand.
The Rangoon district of India long yielded four-hundred-thousand hogs-
heads annually, the Hindoos using the oil to heal diseases, to preserve timber
and to cremate corpses. Birma has been supplied from this source for an
unknown period. The liquid, which is of a greenish-brown color and resem-
bles lubricating-oil in density, gathers in pits sunk twenty to ninety feet in beds
of sandy clays, overlying slates and sandstones. Clumsy pots or buckets, oper-
ated by quaint windlasses, hoist the oil slowly to the mouth of the pits, whence
it is often carried across the country in leathern bags, borne on men's shoulders,
or in earthern jars, packed into carts drawn by oxen. Major Michael Symes,
ambassador to the Court
of Ava in 1765, published
a narrative of his sojourn,
in which is this passage :
"We rode until two o'clock,
at which hour we reached
Yaynangheomn, or Petroleum
Creek. * * * The smell of
the oil is extremely offensive.
It was nearly dark when we
approached the pits. There
seemed to be a great many pits
"with in a small compass. Walk-
ing to the nearest, we found the
aperture about four feet square
and the sides lined, as far as
we could see down, with tim-
ber. The oil is drawn up in an
iron-pot, fastened to a rope
passed over a wooden cylinder,
which revolves on an axis supported by two upright posts. When the pot is filled, two men take
hold of the rope by the end and run down a declivity, which is cut in the ground, to a distance
qual to the depth of the well. When they reach the end of the track the pot is raised to its
proper elevation ; the contents, water and oil together, are discharged into a cistern, and the
water is afterward drawn through a hole in the bottom. * * * When a pit yielded as much as
came up to the waist of a. man, it was deemed tolerably productive ; if it reached his neck it was
abundant, and that which reached no higher than his knee was accounted indifferent."
Labor-saving machinery has not forged to the front to any great degree in
OIL-WELLS IN INDIA.
8 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
the oil-fields of the East Indies. For the Burmese trade flat-boats ascend the
Irrawaddy to Rainanghong, a town inhabited almost exclusively by the potters
who make the earthen jars in which the oil is kept for this peculiar traffic.
The methods of saving and handling the greasy staple have not changed one
iota since John the Baptist wore his suit of camel's-hair and curry-combed the
Sadducees in the Judean wilderness. Progress cuts no ice beneath the shad-
ows of the Himalayas, notwithstanding the missionary efforts of Xavier,
Judson, Carey, Morrison and Duff.
Petroleum in India occurs in middle or lower tertiary rock. In the Rawal-
pindi district of the Panjab it is found at sixteen localities. At Gunda a well
yielded eleven gallons a day for six months, from a boring eighty feet deep,
and one two-hundred feet deep, at Makum, produced a hundred gallons an
hour. The coast of Arakan and the adjacent islands have long been famed
GROUP OF NATIVE OIL-OPERATORS IN INDIA DOWN FROM THE HILLS.
for mud-volcanoes caused by the eruption of hydrocarbon gases. Forty-
thousand gallons a year of petroleum have been exported by the natives from
Kyoukpyu. The oil is light and pure. In 1877 European enterprise was
attracted to this industry and in 1879 work was undertaken by the Borongo Oil-
Co. The company started on a large scale and in 1883 had twenty-four wells
in operation, ranging from five-hundred to twelve-hundred feet in depth, one
yielding for a few weeks one-thousand gallons daily. The total pumped from
ten wells during the year was a quarter-million gallons ; and in 1884 the com-
pany had to suspend payment. Large supplies of high-class petroleum might
be obtained from this region, if suitable methods of working were employed.
Japan also takes a position in the oleiferous procession allied to that of
the yellow dog under the band-wagon. At the base of Fuji-Yama, a mountain
of respectable altitude, the thrifty subjects of the Mikado manage a cluster of
oil-pits in the style practiced by their forefathers. The mirv holes, the creaking
apparatus and the general surroundings are second editions of the Rangoon
exhibits. Yum-Yum's countrymen are clever students and they have much
THE STAR IN THE EAST.
to learn concerning petroleum. Twenty-one years ago a Japanese nobleman
inspected the Pennsylvania oil-fields, sent thither to report to the government
all about the American system of operating the territory.
His observations, embodied in an official statement, failed to
amend the moss-grown processes of the Fuji-Yamans, who
preferred to "fight it out on the old line if it took all sum-
mer." Two others followed on a similar mission in 1897.
Fifty wells, from one thousand to eighteen hundred feet deep,
are producing in the Echi-
go province of Japan. The
largest flowed five-hun-
dred barrels the first day,
declining to eight or ten,
the customary average.
The sand is white and the
oil is of two grades, one
amber of 38 gravity, the
other much darker and
of 31 gravity. The meth-
ods of refining and trans-
porting are of the rudest,
WOMEN IN
[NG OIL ON THEIR BACKS.
women carrying the crude
from the wells on their backs as squaws in North America tote their papooses.
In 1874 S. G. Bayne, now president of the Seaboard Bank of New- York
City, visited these oriental regions. The hard fate of the benighted heathen
moved him to briny tears. They had never heard or read of " the annealed
steel coupling," "the Palm link," the tubing, casing, engines and boilers the
distinguished tourist had planted in every nook and corner of Oildom. With
the spirit of a true philanthropist, Bayne determined to "set them on a higher
plane." His choicest Hindostanee persiflage was aired in detailing the advan-
tages of the Pennsylvania plan of running the petroleum-machine. Tales of
fortunes won on Oil Creek and the Allegheny
River were garnished with scintillations of Irish
wit that ought to have convulsed the listeners.
Alas ! the supine Asiatics were not built that
way and the good seed fell upon barren soil.
The story and, despite the finest lacquer and
veneer embellishments, the experience were
repeated in Japan. What better could be ex-
pected of pagans who wore skirts for full-dress,
practiced hari-kari and knew not a syllable about
Brian Boru? Their conduct was another con-
vincing evidence of "the stern Calvinistic doc-
trine " of total depravity. The Japs voted to
stay in their venerable rut and not monkey
with the Yankee buzz-saw. "And the band
played on."
Years afterwards two cars of drilling-tools and well-machinery were shipped
to Calcutta and a couple of complete rigs to Yeddo "only this and nothing
more." The genial Bayne attempted to square the account by printing his
eastern adventures and sending marked copies of translations to the Indo-
10
SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
Japanese press. Doubtless the waste-basket received what the office-cat spared
of this unusual consignment. Mr. Bayne began his prosperous career as an oil-
man by striking a snug well in 1869, on Pine Creek, near Titusville. He has
written a book on Astronomy which twinkles with gobs of astral science
Copernicus, Herschell, Leverrier, Proctor or Maria Mitchell never dreamed of.
His unique advertisements have spread his fame from the Atlantic to the Pacific.
Digest these random samples of originality worthy of John J. Ingalls :
" We never make kite-track records ; our speed takes in the full circle."
" The graveyards of the enemy are the monuments of our success."
" We never speak of our goods without glancing at the bust of George Washington which
squats on the top of our annealed steel safe ; a twenty-five cent plaster cast of George lends an
atmosphere of veracity to a trade which in these days it sometimes needs."
"Abdul Azis, the late Sultan of Morocco, bought a cheap boiler to drill a water-well. It
bu'st and he is now Abdul Azwas."
" We will never be buried with the ' unknown dead ' we advertise."
" Our patent coupling is the precipitated vapor of fermented progress."
" The intellectual and aesthetic are provided for in consanguinity to their taste."
" Our conversational soloists never descend to orthochromatic photography in their orphean
flights ; they hug the shore of plain Anglo-Saxon and scoop the doubting Thomas."
" It will never do to shake a man because the lambrequins begin to appear on the bottom of
his pants and he wears a ' dickey ' with a sinker."
" The Forget-me-nots of to-day are frequently found the Has-beens of to-morrow."
" Credit is the flower that blooms in life's buttonhole."
" Many a man who now gives dinner-parties in a Queen-Anne front would be nibbling his
Frankfurter in a Mary-Ann back had we not given him a helping hand at the right moment."
The classic ground of Petroleum is the little peninsula of Okestra, jutting
into the Caspian Sea. Extraordinary indications of oil and gas extend over a
strip of country twenty-five miles long by a half-mile wide, in porous sand-
stone. Springs of heavier petroleum flow from hills of volcanic rocks in the
vicinity. Open wells, in which the oil settles as it oozes from the rocks, are
dug sixteen to twenty feet deep. For countless generations the simple natives
dipped up the sticky fluid and carried it
great distances on their backs, to burn in
its crude state, besides sending a large
amount yearly to the Shah's dominions.
It is a forbidding spot rocky, desolate,
without a stream or a sign of vegetation.
The unfruitful soil is saturated with oil,
which exudes from the neighboring hills
and sometimes filters into receptacles
hewn in the rock at a prehistoric epoch.
On gala days it was part of the program
to pour the oil into the Caspian and set
it ablaze, until the sea and land and sky
appeared one unbroken mass of vivid,
lurid, roaring flame. The "pillar of fire "
which guided the wandering Israelites by
night could scarcely have presented a
grander spectacle. The sight might well convey to awe-stricken beholders in-
tensely realistic notions of the place of punishment Col. Ingersoll and Henry
Ward Beecher have sought by tongue and pen to abolish. "Old Nick," how-
ever, at last advices was still doing a wholesale business at the old stand !
Near Belegan, six miles from the chief village of the Baku district, the
grandest of these superb exhibitions was given in 1817. A column of flame,
\\VA\\
CLASSIC GROUND OF PETROLEUM.
THE STAR IN THE EAST. n
six-hundred yards in diameter, broke out naturally, hurling rocks for days to-
gether and raising a mound nine-hundred feet high. The roar of steaming brine
was terrific. Oil and gas rise wherever a hole is bored. The sides of the mount-
ain are black with dark exudations, while a spring of white oil issues from the foot.
A clay-pipe or hollow reed, steeped in lime water and set upright in the floor of
a dwelling, serves as a sufficient gas-pipe. No wonder such a land as Baku,
where in the fissures of the earth and rock the naphtha-vapors flicker into flame^
where a boiling lake is covered with flame devoid of sensible heat, where after
the autumn showers the surrounding country seems wrapped in fire, where the
October moon lights up with an azure tint the entire west and Mount Paradise
dons a robe of fiery red, where innumerable jets envelope the plains on moon-
less nights, where all the phenomena of distillation and combustion can be
studied, should have aroused the religious sentiment of oriental mystics. The
adoring Parsee and the cold-blooded chemist might worship cheek-by-jowl.
Amidst this devouring element men live and love, are born and die, plant
onions and raise sheep, as in more prosaic regions.
At the southern extremity of the peninsula oil and gas shot upward in a
huge pyramid of light. Here was "the eternal fire of Aaku," burning two-
thousand-years as when Zoroaster reverently beheld it and flame became the
symbol of Deity to the entranced Parsees. Here the poor Gheber gathered
the fuel to feed the sacred fire which burned perpetually upon his altar. Hither
devout pilgrims journeyed even from far-off Cathay, to do homage and bear
away a few drops of the precious oil, before the wolf had suckled Romulus or
Nebuchadnezzar had been turned out to pasture. The "Eternal Fire," un-
quenched for twenty-five centuries, the digging of wells that tapped its supply of
fuel put out a generation ago. Modern greed, respecting neither ancient associa-
tion nor religious sentiment, drew too lavishly upon the bountiful stock that fed
throughout the ages the grandest flame in history. At Lourakhanel, not far
from Baku, is a temple built by the fire-worshipers. The sea in places has such
quantities of gas that it can be lighted and burned on the surface of the water
until extinguished by a strong wind. Strange destiny of petroleum, first and
last, to be the panderer of idolatry fire-worship in the olden time, mammon-
worship in this era of the "Almighty Dollar!"
Developments from Baku to the region north of the Black Sea, seven-
hundred miles westward, have revealed vast deposits of petroleum. Hundreds
of wells have been drilled, some flowing one-hundred-thousand barrels a day !
Nobel Brothers' No. 50, which commenced to spout in 1886, kept a stream rising
four-hundred feet into the air for seventeen months, yielding three million bar-
rels. This would fill a ditch five feet wide, six feet deep, and a hundred miles
long. These monsters eject tons of sand daily, which piles up in high mounds.
Stones weighing forty pounds have been thrown out. The common way of
obtaining the oil is to raise it by means of long ^metal-cylinders with trap-bot-
toms. Pumps are impossible on account of the fine sand coming up with the
oil. These cylinders, which will hold from one to four barrels, on being raised
to the surface are discharged into pipes or ditches. Each trip of the bucket or
cylinder takes a minute-and-a-half and the well is worked day and night. The
average daily yield of a Russian well is about two-hundred barrels.
Pipe-lines, refineries and railroads have been provided and the three big
companies operating the whole field consolidated in 1893. The Rothschilds
combined with the Nobels and a prohibitory tariff prevents the importation of
foreign oils. Tank-steamers ply the Caspian Sea and the Volga, many of the
12 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
railways use the crude-oil for fuel and the supply is practically unlimited. The
petroleum-products are carried in these steamers to a point at the mouth of the
Volga River called Davit Foot, about four-hundred miles north of Baku and
ninety miles from Astrakhan, and transferred into barges. These are towed
by small tug-boats to the various distributing points on the Volga, where
tanks have been constructed for railway- shipments. The chief distributing
point upon the Volga is Tsaritzin, but there is also tankage at Saratof, Kazan,
and Nijni-Novgorod. From these points it is distributed all over Russia in
tank-cars. Some is exported to Germany and to Austria. Russian refined
may not be as good an illuminant as the American, but it is made to burn well
enough for all purposes and emits no disagreeable odor. After taking from
crude thirty per-cent. illuminating distillate, about fifteen per-cent. is taken
from the residuum. It is called "solar oil " and the lubricating-oil distillate is
next taken off. From this distillate a very good lubricant is obtained, affected
neither by intense heat nor cold. The lubricating oil is made in Baku, but
great quantities of the distillate are shipped to England, France, Belgium and
Germany and there purified.
Russian competition was for years the chief danger that confronted Amer-
ican producers. Three partial cargoes of petroleum were sent to the United
States as an experiment, netting a snug profit. Heaven favors the hustler from
Hustlerville, who hoes his own row and doesn't squat on a stump expecting
the cow will walk up to be milked, and American oilmen are not easily downed.
They have perfected such improvements in handling, transporting, refining and
marketing their product that the major portion of Europe and Asia, outside of
the czar's dominions, is their customer. Nailing their colors to the mast and
keeping their powder dry, the oil-interests of this glorious climate don't propose
to quit barking until the last dog is dead !
The early Persians and Tartars burned crude-oil for light in stoneware jugs,
with a spout on one side to hold the flax-wick, that answered the purpose of
lamps. In 1851 a chemist of Polish Austria exhibited a small quantity of dis-
tilled petroleum at the World's Fair in London. The Austrian Emperor
rewarded this step towards refining crude-oil by making the chemist a prince.
All these things prove conclusively that petroleum is a veritable antique,
always known and prized by millions of people in Asia, Africa and Europe,
and not a mushroom upstart. Indeed, its pedigree sizes up to the most exact-
ing Philadelphia requirement. Mineralogists think it was quietly distilling
"underneath the ground" when the majestic fiat went forth : "Let there be
light!" Happily "age does not wither nor custom stale the infinite variety "
of its admirable qualities. Neither is it a hot-house exotic, adapted merely to
a single clime or limited to one favored section of any country. It is scattered
widely throughout the two hemispheres, its range of usefulness is extending
constantly and it is not put up in retail packages, that exhaust speedily. Alike
in the tropics and the zones, beneath cloudless Italian skies and the bleak
Russian firmament, amid the flowery vales of Cashmere and the snow-crowned
heights of the Caucasus, by the banks of the turbid Ganges and the shores of
the limpid Danube, this priceless boon has ever contributed to the comfort and
convenience of mankind;
The Star in the East was crowding into line as the full orb of day.
A PETROLEUM IDYL.
A ragged street- Arab, taken to Sunday-school by a kind teacher, heard for
the first time the story of Christ's boundless love and sufferings. Big tears
coursed down his grimy cheeks, until he could no longer restrain his feelings.
Springing upon the seat, the excited urchin threw his tattered cap to the ceiling
and screamed ''Hurrah for Jesus!" It was an honest, sincere, reverent
tribute, which the Recording Angel must have been delighted to note. In like
manner, considering its wondrous past, its glowing present and its prospective
future, men, women and children everywhere, while profoundly grateful to the
Divine Benefactor for the transcendent gift, may fittingly join in a universal
" Hurrah for Petroleum !"
r
Don't make the mistake that Petroleum,
Like the kodak, the bike, or linoleum,
Is something decidedly new ;
Whereas it was known in the Garden
When Eve, in fig-leaf Dolly Varden
Gave Adam an apple to chew.
Nor deem it a human invention,
By reason of newspaper-mention
Just lately commanding attention,
Because it is Nature's own brew.
Repeatedly named in the Bible,
Let none its antiquity libel
Or seek to explain it away.
It garnish'd Methuselah's table,
Was used by the builders of Babel
And pilgrims from distant Cathay ;
When Pharaoh and Moses were chummy
It help'd preserve many a mummy,
Still dreadfully life-like and gummy,
In Egypt's stone-tombs from decay !
At Baku Jove's thunderbolts fir'd it,
Devout Zoroaster admir'd it
As Deity symbol'd in flame ;
Parsees from the realms of Darius,
Unweariedly earnest and pious,
Adoring and worshipping came.
It cur'd Noah's Ham of trichina,
Greas'd babies and pig-tails in China,
Heal'd Arabs from far-otf Medina
The blind and the halt and the lame !
Herodotus saw it at Zante,
It blazed in the visions of Dante
And pyres of supine Hindostan ;
The tropics and zones have rich fountains,
It bubbles ' mid snow cover'd
mountains
And flows in the pits of
Japan.
Confin'd to no country or
nation,
A blessing to God's whole
creation
For light, heat and prime
lubrication,
All hail to this grand gift
to man !
WELL AT BAKU, RUSSIA, FLOWING 5O.OOO BARI
A DAY, THROUGH A 16-INCH PIPE.
TE/^PLE OF THE FIRE-WORSHIPPERS AT LOURAKHANE1
BURNING OP OIL IN THE BOGADOFF SHIPPING-YARD, RUSSIA.
VIEW OP WELLS AT BAKANY, IN THE RUSSIAN O1L-PIELD.
II.
A GLIMMER IN THE WEST.
NUMEROUS INDICATIONS OF OIL ON THIS CONTINENT LAKE OF ASPHALTUM
PETROLEUM SPRINGS IN NEW YORK AND PENNSYLVANIA How HISTORY is
MANUFACTURED PIONEERS DIPPING AND UTILIZING THE PRECIOUS FLUID
TOMBSTONE LITERATURE PATHETIC EPISODE SINGULAR STRIKE GEOLOGY
TRIES TO EXPLAIN A KNOTTY POINT.
Thou who wouldst see where dawned the light at last must westward go." Edwin Arnold.
America is the Lord's darling." Dr. Talmage.
Thee, hid the bowering vales amidst, I call." Euripides.
A Mercury is not to be carved out of every wood." Latin Proverb.
Never no duck wasn't hatched by a drake." Hall Caine.
Near the Niagara is an oil-spring known to the Indians." De la Roche D'Allion, A. D. 1629.
There is a fountain at the head of the Ohio, the water of which is like oil, has a taste of iron and
seems to appease pain." Captain de Jvncaire, A. D. 1721.
It is light bottled up for tens-of-thousands of years-light absorbed by plants and vegetables.
* And now, after being buried long ages, that latent light is again brought forth and
made to work for human purposes." ^tephenson.
It is not a farthing glim in a bedroom." Charles Reade.
' The west glimmers with some streaks of day." Shakespeare.
'Even the night shall be light about me." Psalms cxxxix : //.
_\ HE LAND Columbus ran against, by
anticipating Horace Greeley's advice to
"Go West," was not neglected in the
unstinted distribution of petroleum. It
abounds in South America, in the West
Indies, the United States and Canada.
The most extensive and phenomenal
natural fountain of petroleum ever known
is on the Island of Trinidad. Hot bitu-
men has filled a basin four miles in cir-
cumference, three-quarters of a mile from
the sea, estimated to contain the equiva-
lent of ten-millions of barrels of crude-
oil. The liquid boils up continually, ob-
serving no holidays or Sundays, seething
and foaming at the center of the lake, cooling and thickening as it recedes,
and finally becoming solid asphaltum. The bubbling, hissing, steaming cal-
dron emits a sulphurous odor, perceptible for ten or twelve miles and deci-
dedly suggestive of the orthodox Hades. Humboldt in 1799 reported his
impressions of this spontaneous marvel, in producing which the puny hand of
man had no share. From it is derived the dark, tough, semi-elastic material,
first utilized in Switzerland for this purpose, which paves the streets of scores
of cities. Few stop to reflect, as they glide over the noiseless surface on
whirling bicycles or behind prancing steeds, that the smooth asphaltum
pavements and the clear "water- white" in the piano-lamp have a common
15
16 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
parentage. Yet bloomers and pantaloons, twin-creations of the tailor, or
diamonds and coal, twin-links of carbon, are not related more closely.
" Even men and monkeys may be kin."
The earliest printed reference to petroleum in America is by Joseph de la
Roche D'Allion, a Franciscan missionary who crossed the Niagara river from
Canada in 1629 and wrote of oil, in what is now New York, known to the
Indians and by them given a name signifying "plenty there." Likely this was
the petroleum occupying cavities in fossils at Black Rock, below Buffalo, in
sufficient abundance to be an object of commerce. Concerning the celebrated
oil-spring of the Seneca Indians near Cuba, N. Y., which D'Allion may also
have seen, Prof. Benjamin Silliman in 1833 said :
" This is situated in the western part of the county of Alleghany, in the state of New York.
This county is the third from Lake Erie on the south line of the state, the counties of Cattaraugus
and Chautauqua lying west and forming the southwestern termination of the state of New York.
The spring is very near the line which divides Alleghany and Cattaraugus. * * * Thecountry
is rather mountainous, but the road running between the ridges is very good and leads through
a cultivated region rich in soil and picturesque in scenery. Its geographical formation is the
same as that which is known to prevail in the western region ; a silicious sandstone with shale,
and in some places limestone, is the immediate basis of the country. * * * The oil-spring or
fountain rises in the midst of a marshy ground. It is a muddy, dirty pool of about eighteen feet
in diameter and is nearly circular in form. There is no outlet above ground, no stream flowing
from it, and it is, of course, a stagnant water, with no other circulation than than which springs
from the changes in temperature and from the gas and petroleum that are constantly rising
through the pool.
"We are told that the odor of petroleum is perceived at a distance in approaching the
spring. This maybe true in particular states of the wind, but we did not distinguish any peculiar
smell until we arrived on the edge of the fountain. Here its peculiar character became very
obvious. The water is covered with a thin layer of petroleum or mineral oil, as if coated with
,
the Cy$tern t floats <.n top, //:;/ a ',-
into Barrels, is bottled in its natn.
f j)~ admixture. For particulars
I Fatcr. flcivs into
v.i\ is dragon f jff
out any preparation
FAC-SIMILE OF LABEL ON KIER'S PETROLEUM.
in that manner. A second glance proved that it was an advertisement of a sub-
stance that concerned him deeply. He stepped inside and requested permission
to scan the label. The druggist told him to "take it along." For an instant he
gazed at the derricks and the figures four-hundred feet ! A thought flashed
upon him bore artesian wells for oil ! Artesian wells ! Artesian wells ! rang
A HOLE IX THE GROUND. 65
in his ears like the Trinity chimes down the street, the bells of London telling
"Dick" Whittington to return or the pibroch of the Highlanders at Lucknow
The idea that meant so much was born at last. Patient nature must have felt
in the mood to turn somersaults, blow a tin-horn and dance the fandango. It
was a simple thought merely to bore a hole in the rock with no frills and fur-
belows and fustian, but pregnant with astounding consequences. It has added
untold millions to the wealth of the country and conferred incalculable benefits
upon humanity. To-day refined petroleum lights more dwellings in America,
Europe, Asia, Africa and Australia than all other agencies combined.
To put the idea to the test was the next wrinkle. Mr. Eveleth agreed with
Bissell's theory. Their first impulse was to bore a well themselves. Reflection
cooled their ardor, as this course would involve the loss of their practice for an
uncertainty. Mr. Havens, a Wall-street broker, whom they consulted, offered
them five-hundred dollars for a lease from the Pennsylvania Rock-Oil Company.
A contract with Havens, by the terms of which he was to pay ' ' twelve cents a
gallon for all oil raised for fifteen years," financial reverses prevented his carry-
ing out. The idea of artesian boring was too fascinating to lie dormant. Mr.
Townsend, president of the company, Silliman having resigned, employed
Edwin L. Drake, to whom in the darker days of its existence he had sold two-
hundred-dollars' worth of his own stock, to visit the property and report his
impressions. Mrs. Brewer and Mrs. Rynd had not joined in the power-of-attor-
ney by which the agent conveyed the Brewer- Watson lands to the company,
hence they would be entitled to dower in case the husbands died. Drake was
instructed to return by way of Pittsburg and procure their signatures. Illness
had forced him to quit work he was conductor on the New-York & New-Haven
Railroad for some months and the opportunity for change of air and scene was
embraced gladly. Shrewd, far-seeing Townsend, who still lives in New Haven
and has been credited with "the discovery" of petroleum, addressed legal docu-
ments and letters to "Colonel" Drake, no doubt supposing this would enhance
the importance of his representative in the eyes of the Oil-Creek backwoodsmen.
The military title stuck to the diffident civilian whose name is interwoven with
the great events of the nineteenth century.
Stopping on his way from New Haven to
view the salt-wells at Syracuse, about the
middle of December, 1857, Colonel Drake
was trundled into Titusville named from
Jonathan Titus on the mail-wagon from
Erie. The villagers received him cordially.
He lodged at the American Hotel, the home-
like inn "Billy" Robinson, the first boniface,
and Major Mills, king of landlords, rendered
famous by their bountiful hospitality. The
old caravansary was torn down in 1880 to
furnish a site for the Oil Exchange. Drake
stayed a few days to transact legal business,
to examine the lands and the indications of
oil and to become familiar with the general
... T-. .. -~. , , . . , JONATHAN TITUS.
details. Proceeding to Pittsburg, he visited
the salt-wells atTarentum, the picture of which on Kier's label suggested boring
for oil, and hastened back to Connecticut to conclude a scheme of operating the
property. On December thirtieth the three New-Haven directors executed a
66
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
lease to Edwin E. Bowditch and Edwin L. Drake, who were to pay the Pennsyl-
vania Rock-Oil-Company ' ' five-and-a-half cents a gallon for the oil raised for
fifteen years." Eight days later, at the annual meeting of the directors, the
lease was ratified, George H. Bissell and Jonathan Watson, representing two-
thirds of the stock, protesting. Thereupon the consideration was placed at
"one-eighth of all oil, salt or paint produced." The lease was sent to Franklin
and recorded in Deed Book P, page 357. A supplemental lease, extending the
time to forty-five years on the conditions of the grant to Havens, was recorded,
and on March twenty-third, 1858, the Seneca Oil-Company was organized, with
Colonel Drake as president and owner of one-fortieth of the ' ' stock. ' ' No stock
was issued, for the company was in reality a partnership working under the laws
governing j oint-stock associations.
Provided with a fund of one-thousand dollars as a starter, Drake was engaged
at one-thousand dollars a year to begin operations. Early in May, 1858, he and
his family arrived in Titusville and were quartered at the American Hotel, which
THE FIRST DRAKE WELL, ITS DRILLERS AND ITS COMPLETE RIG.
boarded the Colonel, Mrs. Drake, two children and a horse for six-dollars-and-
a-half per week ! Money was scarce, provisions were cheap and the quiet village
put on no extravagant airs. Not a pick or shovel was to be had in any store
short of Meadville, whither Drake was obliged to send for these useful tools !
Behold, then, "the man who was to revolutionize the light of the world," his
mind full of a grand purpose and his pockets full of cash, snugly ensconced in
the comfortable hostelry. Surely the curtain would soon rise and the drama of
"A Petroleum-Hunt" proceed without further vexatious delays.
Drake's first step was to repair and start up Angier's system of trenches,
A HOLE IN THE GROUND. 67
troughs and skimmers. By the end of June he had dug a shallow well on the
island and was saving ten gallons of oil a day. He found it difficult to get a prac-
tical "borer" to sink an artesian-well. In August he shipped two barrels of oil
to New Haven and bargained for a steam-engine to furnish power for drilling.
The engine was not furnished as agreed, the "borer" Dr. Brewer hired at Pitts-
burg had another contract and operations were suspended for the winter. In
February, 1859, Drake went to Tarentum and engaged a driller to come in
March. The driller failed to materialize and Drake drove to Tarentum in a
sleigh to lasso another. F. N. Humes, who was cleaning out salt-wells for
Peterson, informed him that the tools were made by William A. Smith, whom
he might be able to secure for the job. Smith accepted the offer to manufacture
tools and bore the well. Kim Hibbard, favorably known in Franklin, was dis-
patched with his team, when the tools were completed, for Smith, his two sons
and the outfit. On May twentieth the men and tools were at the spot selected
for the hole. A "pump-house" had been framed and a derrick built. A room
for "boarding the hands" almost joined the rig and the sawmill. The accom-
panying illustration shows the well as it was at first, with the original derrick
enclosed to the top, the "grasshopper walking-beam," the "boarding-house"
and part of the mill-shed. " Uncle Billy" Smith is seated on a wheelbarrow in
the foreground. His sons, James and William, are standing on either side of
the "pump-house" entrance. Back of James his two young sisters are sitting
on a board. Elbridge Lock stands to the right of the Smiths. "Uncle Billy's"
brother is leaning on a plank at the corner of the derrick and his wife may be
discerned in the doorway of the "boarding-house." This interesting and his-
toric picture has never been printed until now. The one with which the world
is acquainted depicts the second rig, with Peter Wilson, a Titusville druggist,
facing Drake. In like manner, the portrait of Colonel Drake in this volume is
from the first photograph for which he ever sat. The well and the portrait are
the work of John A. Mather, the veteran artist and Drake's bosom-friend, who
ought to receive a pension and no end of gratitude for preserving "counterfeit
presentments" of a host of petroleum-scenes and personages that have passed
from mortal sight.
Delays and tribulations had not retreated from the field. In artesian-boring
it is necessary to drill in rock. Mrs. Glasse's old-time cook-book gained celeb-
rity by starting a recipe for rabbit-pie : "First catch your hare." The principle
applies to artesian -drilling : " First catch your rock." The ordinary rule was
to dig a pit or well-hole to the rock and crib it with timber. The Smiths dug a
few feet, but the hole filled with water and caved-in persistently. It was a fight-
to-a-finish between three men and what Stow of Girard he was Barnum's hot-
stuff advance agent wittily termed ' ' the cussedness of inanimate things. ' ' The
latter won and a council of war was summoned, at which Drake recommended
driving an iron-tube through the clay and quicksand to the rock. This was
effectual. Colonel Drake should have patented the process, which was his
exclusive device and decidedly valuable. The pipe was driven thirty-six feet to
hard-pan and the drill started on August fourteenth. The workmen averaged
three feet a day, resting at night and on Sundays. Indications of oil were met
as the tools pierced the rock. Everybody figured that the well would be down
to the Tarentum level in time to celebrate Christmas. The company, tired of
repeated postponements, did not deluge Drake with money. Losing specula-
tions and sickness had drained his own meagre savings. R. D. Fletcher, the
well-known Titusville merchant, and Peter Wilson endorsed his paper for six-
<68 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
hundred dollars to tide over the crisis. The tools pursued the downward road
with the eagerness of a sinner headed for perdition, while expectation stood on
tiptoe to watch the progress of events.
On Saturday afternoon, August twenty-eighth, 1859, the well had reached
the depth of sixty-nine feet, in a coarse sand. Smith and his sons concluded to
"lay off" until Monday morning. As they were about to quit the drill dropped
six inches into a crevice such as was common in salt- wells. Nothing was thought
of this circumstance, the tools were drawn out and all hands adjourned to Titus-
ville. Mr. Smith went to the well on Sunday afternoon to see if it had moved
-away or been purloined during the night. Peering into the hole he saw fluid
within eight or ten feet. A piece of tin-spouting was lying outside. He plugged
one end of the spout, let it down by a string and pulled it up. Muddy water?
No ! It was filled with PETROLEUM !
" The fisherman, unassisted by destiny, could not catch fish in the Tigris."
That was the proudest hour in "Uncle Billy" Smith's forty-seven years'
pilgrimage. Not daring to leave the spot, he ran the spout again and again,
each time bringing it to the surface full of oil. A straggler out for a stroll
approached, heard the story, sniffed the oil and bore the tidings to the village.
Darkness was setting in, but the Smith boys sprinted to the scene. When
Colonel Drake came down, bright and early next morning, they and their father
were guarding three barrels of the precious liquid. The pumping apparatus was
adjusted and by noon the well commenced producing at the rate of twenty
barrels a day ! The problem of the ages was solved, the agony ended and
petroleum fairly launched upon its astonishing career.
The news flew like a Dakota cyclone. Villagers and country-folk flocked
to the wonderful well. Smith wrote to Peterson, his former employer: "Come
quick, there' s oceans of oil ! " Jonathan Watson j umped on a horse and galloped
down the creek to lease the McClintock farm, where Nathanael Gary dipped oil
and a timbered crib had been constructed. Henry Potter, still a citizen of Titus-
ville, tied up the lands for miles along the stream, hoping to interest New York
capital. William Barnsdall secured the farm north of the Willard. George H.
Bissell, who had arranged to be posted by telegraph, bought all the Pennsylvania
Rock-Oil stock he could find and in four days was at the well. He leased farm
after farm on Oil Creek and the Allegheny River, regardless of surface-indica-
tions or the admonition of meddling wiseacres.
The rush for property resembled the wild scramble of the children when the
Pied Piper of Hamelin blew his fatal reed. Titusville was in a whirlpool of
excitement. Buildings arose as if by magic, the hamlet became a borough and
the borough a city of fifteen-thousand inhabitants. Maxwell Titus sold lots at
two-hundred dollars, people acquired homes that doubled in value and specula-
tion held undisputed sway. Jonathan Titus, from whom it was named, lived to
witness the farm he cleared transformed into "The Queen City," noted for its
tasteful residences, excellent schools, manufactories, refineries and active popu-
lation. One of his neighbors in the bush was Samuel Kerr, whose son Michael
went to Congress and served as Speaker of the House. Many enterprising men
settled in Titusville for the sake of their families. They paved the streets,
planted shade-trees, fostered local industries, promoted culture and believed in
public improvements. When Christine Nilsson enraptured sixteen-hundred
well-dressed, appreciative listeners in the Parshall Opera-House, the peerless
songstress could not refrain from saying that she never saw an audience so keen
lo note the finer points of her performance and so discriminating in its applause.
A HOLE IN THE GROUND.
69
" Praise from Sir Hubert is praise indeed " and the compliment of the Swedish
Nightingale compressed a whole encyclopedia into a sentence. Titusville has
had its ups and downs, but there is no more desirable place in the State.
" Auld Ayr, wham ne'er a town surpasses."
Matches are supposed to be made in Heaven and the inspiration that led to
the choice of such a site for the future city must have been derived from the
same source. Healthfulness and beauty of location attest the wisdom of the
selection. Folks don't have to climb precipitous hills or risk life and limb
REET, TITUSVILLE, IN l86l.
crossing railway-tracks whenever they wish to exercise their fast nags. Driving
is a favorite pastime in fine weather, the leading thoroughfares often reminding
strangers of Central Park on a coaching-day. Main, Walnut and Perry streets
are lined with trees and residences worthy of Philadelphia or Baltimore. Com-
fortable homes are the crowning glory cf a community and in this respect Titus-
ville does not require to take a back-seat. Near the lower end of Main street is
Ex-Mayor Caldwell's elegant mansion, built by Jonathan Watson in the days of
his prosperity. Farther up are John Fertig's, the late Marcus Brownson's, Mrs.
David Emery's and Mrs. A. N. Perrin's. Franklin S. Tarbell, a former resident
of Rouseville, occupies an attractive house. Joseph Seep, who has not changed
an iota since the halcyon period of Parker and Foxburg, shows his faith in the
town by building a home that would adorn Cleveland's aristocratic Euclid
Avenue. The host is the cordial Seep of yore, quick to make a point and not a
bit backward in helping a friend. David McKelvy, whom everybody knew in
the lower oil-fields, remodeled the Chase homestead, a symphony in red brick.
Close by is W. T. Scheide's natty dwelling, finished in a style befitting the ex-
superintendent of the National-Transit Pipe-Lines. Byron D. Benson he died
in 1889 nine times elected president of the Tidewater Pipe-Line-Company,
lived on the corner of Oak and Perry streets. Opposite is John L. McKinney's
luxurious residence, a credit to the liberal owner and the city. J. C. McKin-
ney's is "one of the finest." James Parshall, W. B. Sterrett, O. D. Harrington,
6
70 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
J. P. Thomas, W. W. Thompson, Charles Archbold and hundreds more erected
dwellings that belong to the palatial tribe. Dr. Roberts he's in the cemetery
had a spacious place on Washington street, with the costliest stable in seven-
teen counties. E. O. Emerson's house and grounds are the admiration of
visitors. The grand fountain, velvet lawns, smooth walks, tropical plants,
profusion of flowers, mammoth conservatory and Marechal-Niel rose-bushes
bewilder the novice whose knowledge of floral affairs stops at button-hole
bouquets. George K. Anderson dead, too constructed this delightful retreat.
Col. J. J. Carter, whose record as a military officer, merchant, railroad-president
and oil-operator will stand inspection, has an
ideal home, purchased from John D. Archbold
and refitted throughout. It was built and fur-
nished extravagantly by Daniel Cady, once a
leading spirit in the business and social life of
Titusville. He was a man of imposing pres-
ence and indomitable pluck, the confidant of Jay
Gould and "Jim" Fisk, dashing, speculative and
popular. For years whatever he touched seemed
to turn into gold and he computed his dollars by
hundreds of thousands. Days of adversity over-
took him, the splendid home was sacrificed and
he died poor. To men of the stamp of Watson,
Anderson, Abbott, Emery, Fertig and Cady
Titusville owes its real start in the direction of
greatness. Much of the froth and fume of former
days is missing, but the baser elements have been
eliminated, trade is on a solid basis and important manufactures have been estab-
lished. There are big refineries, Holly water-works, a race-track, ball-grounds,
top-notch hotels, live newspapers, inviting churches and a lovely cemetery in
which to plant good citizens when they pass in their checks. Pilgrims who
expect to find Titusville dead or dying will be as badly fooled as the lover whose
girl eloped with the other fellow.
Unluckily for himself, Colonel Drake took a narrow view of affairs. Com-
placently assuming that he had "tapped the mine" to quote his own phrase
and that paying territory would not be found outside the company's lease, he
pumped the well serenely, told funny stories and secured not one foot of ground !
Had he possessed a particle of the prophetic instinct, had he grasped the magni-
tude of the issues at stake, had he appreciated the importance of petroleum as a
commercial product, had he been able to "see an inch beyond his nose," he
would have gone forth that August morning and become ' ' Master of the Oil
Country !" "The world was all before him where to choose," he was literally
"monarch of all he surveyed," but he didn't move a peg! Money was not
needed, the promise of one-eighth or one-quarter royalty satisfying the easy-
going farmers, consequently he might have gathered in any quantity of land.
Friends urged him to "get into the game ;" he rejected their counsel and never
realized his mistake until other wells sent prices skyward and it was everlastingly
too late for his short pole to knock the persimmons. Yet this is the man whom
numerous writers have proclaimed "the discoverer of petroleum!" Times
without number it has been said and written and printed that he was "the first
man to advise boring for oil," that "his was the first mind to conceive the idea
of penetrating the rock in search of a larger deposit of oil than was dreamed of by
DANIEL CADY.
A HOLE IN THE GROUND. -ji
any one," that "he alone unlocked one of nature's vast storehouses" and "had
visions of a revolution in light and lubrication." Considering what Kier, Peter-
son, Bissell and Watson had done years before Drake ever saw perhaps ever
heard of a drop of petroleum, the absurdity of these claims is "so plain that
he who runs may read. " Couple with this his incredible failure to secure lands
after the well was drilled wholly inexcusable if he supposed oil-operations
would ever be important and the man who thinks Colonel Drake was ' ' the first
man with a clear conception of the future of petroleum" could swallow the fish
that swallowed Jonah !
Above all else history should be truthful and "hew to the line, let chips fall
where they may." Mindful that "the agent is but the instrument of the princi-
pal," why should Colonel Drake wear the laurels in this instance ? Paid a salary
to carry out Bissell 's plan of boring an artesian- well, he spent sixteen months get-
ting the hole down seventy feet. For a man who "had visions" and "a clear
conception" his movements were inexplicably slow. He encountered obstacles,
but salt-wells had been drilled hundreds of feet without either a steam-engine
or professional ' ' borer. ' ' The credit of suggesting the driving-pipe to overcome
the quicksand is justly his due. Quite as justly the credit of suggesting the
boring of the well belongs to George H. Bissell. The company hired Drake,
Drake hired Smith, Smith did the work. Back of the man who possessed the
skill to fashion the tools and sink the hole, back of the man who acted for the
company and disbursed its money, back of the company itself is the originator
of the idea these were the means employed to put into effect. Was George
Stephenson, or the foreman of the shop where the "Rocket" was built, the
inventor of the locomotive ? Was Columbus, or the man whose name it bears,
the discoverer of America? In a conversation on the subject Mr. Bissell
remarked : "Let Colonel Drake enjoy the pleasure of giving the well his name ;
history will set us all right." So it will and this is a step in that direction. If
the long-talked-of monument to commemorate the advent of the petroleum-era
ever be erected, it should bear in boldest capitals the names of Samuel M. Kier
and George H. Bissell.
Edwin L. Drake, who is linked inseparably with the first oil-well in Penn-
sylvania, was born on March eleventh, 1819, at Greenville, Greene county, New
York. His father, a farmer, moved to Vermont in 1825. At eighteen Edwin
left home to begin the struggle with the world. He was night-clerk of a boat
running between Buffalo and Detroit, worked one year on a farm in the Wolver-
ine state, clerked two years in a Michigan hotel, returned east and clerked in a
dry-goods store at New Haven, clerked and married in New York, removed to
Massachusetts, was express-agent on the Boston & Albany railroad and resigned
in 1849 to become conductor on the New- York & New-Haven. His younger
brother died in the west and his wife at New Haven, in 1854, leaving one child.
While boarding at a hotel in New Haven he met James M. Townsend, who per-
suaded him to draw his savings of two-hundred dollars from the bank and buy
stock of the Pennsylvania Rock-Oil-Company, his first connection with the busi-
ness that was to make him famous. Early in 1857 he married Miss Laura Dow,
sickness in the summer compelled him to cease punching tickets and his memo-
rable visit to Titusville followed in December. In 1860 he was elected justice-
of-the-peace, an office worth twenty-five-hundred dollars that year, because of
the enormous number of property-transfers to prepare and acknowledge. Buy-
ing oil on commission for ShefHin Brothers, New York, swelled his income to
five-thousand dollars for a year or two. He also bought twenty-five acres of
7 2 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
land from Jonathan Watson, east of Martin street and through the center of
which Drake street now runs, for two-thousand dollars. Unable to meet the
mortgage given for part of the payment, he sold the block in 1863 to Dr. A. D.
Atkinson for twelve-thousand dollars. Forty times this sum would not have
bought it in 1867 ! With the profits of this transaction and his savings for five
years, in all about sixteen-thousand dollars, in the summer of 1863 Colonel
Drake left the oil-regions forever.
Entering into partnership with a Wall-street broker, he wrecked his small
fortune speculating in oil-stocks, his health broke down and he removed to Ver-
mont. Physicians ordered him to the seaside as the only remedy for his disease,
neuralgic affection of the spine, which threatened paralysis of the limbs and
caused intense suffering. Near Long Branch, in a cottage offered by a friend,
Mr. and Mrs. Drake drank the bitter cup to the dregs. Their funds were ex-
hausted, the patient needed constant attention and helpless children cried for
bread. The devoted wife and mother attempted to earn a pittance with her
needle, but could not keep the wolf of hunger from the door. Medicine for the
sick man was out of the question. All this time men in the region the Drake
well had opened to the world were piling up millions of dollars ! One day in
1869, with eighty cents to pay his fare, Colonel Drake struggled into New York
to seek a place for his twelve-year-old boy. The errand was fruitless. The
'distressed father was walking painfully on the street to the railway-station, to
board the train for home, when he met " Zeb" Martin of Titusville, after wards
proprietor of the Hotel Brunswick. Mr. Martin noted his forlorn condition,
inquired as to his circumstances, learned the sad story of actual privation, pro-
cured dinner, gave the poor fellow twenty dollars and cheered him with the
assurance that he would raise a fund for his relief. The promise was redeemed.
At a meeting in Titusville the case was stated and forty-two hundred dollars
were subscribed. The money was forwarded to Mrs. Drake, who husbanded it
carefully. The terrible recital aroused such a feeling that the Legislature, in
1873, granted Colonel Drake an annuity of fifteen-hundred dollars during his life
and his heroic wife's. California had set a good example by giving Colonel
Sutter, the discoverer of gold in the mill-race, thirty-five-hundred dollars a year.
The late Thaddeus Stevens, "the Great Commoner," hearing that Drake was
actually in want, prepared a bill, found among his papers after his death, intend-
ing to present it before Congress for an appropriation of two-hundred-and-fifty-
thousand dollars for Colonel Drake. In 1870 the family removed to Bethlehem,
Pennsylvania. Years of suffering, borne with sublime resignation, closed on
the evening of November ninth, 1881, with the release of Edwin L. Drake from
this vale of tears. A faithful wife and four children survived the petroleum-
pioneer. They lived at Bethlehem until the spring of 1895 and then moved to
New England. Colonel Drake was a man of pronounced individuality, affable,
genial and kindly. He had few superiors as a story-teller, neither caroused nor
swore, and was of unblemished character. He wore a full beard, dressed well,
liked a good horse, looked every man straight in the face and his dark eyes
sparkled when he talked. Gladly he laid down the heavy burden of a check-
ered life, with its afflictions and vicissitudes, for the peaceful rest of the grave.
" Since every man who lives is born to die * * *
Like pilgrims to the appointed place we tend ;
The world's an inn, and death the journey's end."
George H. Bissell, honorably identified with the petroleum-development
from its inception, was a New-Hampshire boy. Thrown upon his own resources
A HOLE IN THE GROUND. 73
at twelve, by the death of his father, he gained education and fortune unaided.
At school and college he supported himself by teaching and writing for maga-
zines. Graduating from Dartmouth College in 1845, he was professor of Greek
and Latin in Norwich University a short time, went to Washington and Cuba,
did editorial work for the New Orleans Delta and was chosen superintendent of
the public schools. Impaired health forced him to return north in 1853, when
his connection with petroleum began. From 1859 to J 863 he resided at Franklin,
Venango county, to be near his oil-interests. He operated largely on Oil Creek,
on the Allegheny river and at Franklin, where he erected a barrel-factory. He
removed to New York in 1863, established the Bissell Bank at Petroleum Centre
in 1866, developed oil-lands in Peru and was prominent in financial circles. His
wife died in 1867 and long since he followed her to the tomb. Mr. Bissell was
a brilliant, scholarly man, positive in his convictions and sure to make his influ-
ence felt in any community. His son and daughter reside in New York.
" Pass some few years,
Thy flowering Spring, thy Summer's ardent strength,
Thy sober Autumn fading into age,
And pale concluding Winter comes at last
And shuts the scene."
William A. Smith, born in Butler county in 1812, at the age of twelve was
apprenticed at Freeport to learn blacksmithing. In 1827 he went to Pittsburg
and in 1842 opened a blacksmith-shop at Salina, below Tarentum. Samuel M.
Kier employed him to drill salt-wells and manufacture drilling-tools. After fin-
ishing the Drake well, he drilled in various sections of the oil-regions, retiring
to his farm in Butler a few years prior to his death, on October twenty-third,
1890. " Uncle Billy," as the boys affectionately called him, was no small factor
in giving to mankind the illuminator that enlightens every quarter of the globe.
The farm he owned in 1859 and on which he died proved good territory.
Dr. Francis B. Brewer was born in New Hampshire, studied medicine in
Philadelphia and practiced in Vermont. His father in 1840 purchased several
thousand acres of land on Oil Creek for lumbering, and the firm of Brewer,
Watson & Co. was promptly organized. Oil from the ' ' spring' ' on the island at
the mouth of Pine Creek was sent to the young physician in 1848 and used in his
practice. He visited the locality in 1850 and was admitted to the firm. Upon
the completion of the Drake well he devoted his time to the extensive oil-ope-
rations of the partnership for four years. In 1864 Brewer, Watson & Co. sold
the bulk of their oil-territory and the doctor, who had settled at Westfield,
Chautauqua county, N. Y., instituted the First National Bank, of which he was
chosen president. A man of solid worth and solid wealth, he has served as a
Member of Assembly and is deservedly respected for integrity and benevolence.
Jonathan Watson, whose connection with petroleum goes back to the begin-
ning of developments, arrived at Titusville in 1845 to manage the lumbering and
mercantile business of his firm. The hamlet contained ten families and three
stores. Deer and wild-turkeys abounded in the woods, John Robinson was
postmaster and Rev. George O. Hampson the only minister. Mr. Watson's
views of petroleum were of the broadest and his transactions the boldest. He
hastened to secure lands when oil appeared in the Drake well. At eight o'clock
on that historic Monday morning he stood at Hamilton McClintock's door,
resolved to buy or lease his three-hundred-acre farm. A lease was taken and
others along the stream followed during the day. Brewer, Watson & Co. oper-
ated on a wholesale scale until 1864, after which Watson continued alone.
Riches poured upon him. He erected the finest residence in Titusville, lavished
74 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL,
money on the grounds and stocked a fifty-thousand dollar conservatory with
choicest plants and flowers. A million dollars in gold he is credited with ' 'put-
ting by for a rainy day." He went miles ahead, bought huge blocks of land
and drilled scores of test-wells. In this way he barely missed opening the Brad-
ford field and the Bullion district years before these productive sections were
brought into line. His well on the Dalzell farm, Petroleum Centre, in 1869,
renewed interest in that quarter long after it was supposed to be sucked dry.
An Oil-City clairvoyant indicated the spot to sink the hole, promising a three-
hundred-barrel strike. Crude was six dollars a barrel and Watson readily
proffered the woman the first day's production for her services. A check for
two-thousand dollars was her reward, as the well yielded three-hundred-and-
thirty-three barrels the first twenty-four hours. Mrs. Watson was an ardent
medium and her husband humored her by consulting the " spirits" occasionally.
She became a lecturer and removed to California long since. The tide of Wat-
son's prosperity ebbed. Bad investments and dry-holes ate into his splendid
fortune. The gold- reserve was drawn upon and spent. The beautiful home
went to satisfy creditors. In old age the brave, hardy, indefatigable oil-pioneer,
who had led the way for others to acquire wealth, was stripped of his posses-
sions. Hope and courage remained. He operated at Warren and revived
some of the old wells around the Drake, which afforded him subsistence.
Advanced years and anxiety enfeebled the stalwart fame. His steps faltered,
and in 1893 protracted sickness closed the busy, eventful life of the man who,
more than any other, fostered and developed the petroleum-industry.
"I am as a weed
Flung from the rock, on ocean's foam to sail
Where'er the surge may sweep, the tempest's breath prevail."
The Drake well declined almost imperceptibly, yielding twelve barrels a day
by the close of the year. It stood idle on Sundays and for a week in December.
Smith had a light near a tank of oil, the gas from which caught fire and burned
the entire rig. This was the first "oil-fire " in Pennsylvania, but it was destined
to have many successors. Possibly it brought back vividly to Colonel Drake
the remembrance of his childish dream, in which he and his brother had set a
heap of stubble ablaze and could not extinguish the flames. His mother inter-
preted it : "My son, you have set the world on fire."
The total output of the well in 1859 was under eighteen-hundred barrels.
One-third of the oil was sold at sixty-five cents a gallon for shipment to Pitts-
burg. George M. Mowbray, the accomplished chemist, who came to Titusville
in 1860 and played a prominent part in early refining, disposed of a thousand
barrels in New York. The well produced moderately for two or three years
from the first sand, until shut down by low prices, which made it ruinous to pay
the royalty of twelve-and-a-half cents a gallon. A compromise was effected in
1860, by which the Seneca Oil-Company retained a part of the land as fee and
surrendered the lease to the Pennsylvania Rock-Oil-Company. Mr. Bissell
purchased the stock of the other shareholders in the latter company for fifty-
thousand dollars. He drilled ten wells, six of which for months yielded eighty
barrels a day, on the tract known thenceforth as the Bissell farm, selling it
eventually to the Original Petroleum-Company. The Drake was deepened to
five-hundred feet and two others, drilled beneath the roof of the sawmill in
1862, were pumped by water.
The Drake machinery was stolen or scattered piecemeal. In 1876 J. J. Ash-
baugh, of St. Petersburg, and Thomas O'Donnell, of Foxburg, conveyed the
A HOLE IN THE GROUND. 75
neglected derrick and engine-house to the Centennial at Philadelphia, believing
crowds would wish to look at the mementoes. The exhibition was a fizzle and
the lumber was carted off as rubbish. Ex-Senator Emery saved the drilling-
tools and he has them in his private museum at Bradford. They are pigmies
compared with the giants of to-day. A man could walk away with them as
readily as Samson skipped with the gates of Gaza. Sandow and Cyril Cy r done
up in a single package couldn't do that with a modern set. The late David.
Emery, a man of heart and brain, contemplated reviving the old well the land
had come into his possession and bottling the oil in tiny vials, the proceeds to
be applied to a Drake monument. He put up a temporary rig and pumped a
half-barrel a week. Death interrupted his generous purpose. Except that the
trees and the saw-mill have disappeared, the neighborhood of the Drake well
is substantially the same as in the days when lumbering was at its height and
the two-hundred honest denizens of Titusville slept without locking their doors.
LOCATION AND SURROUNDINGS OF THE DRAKE WELL IN 1897.
There is nothing to suggest to strangers or travelers that the spot deserves to be
remembered. How transitory is human achievement !
William Barnsdall, Boone Meade and Henry R. Rouse started the second
well in the vicinity, on the James Parker farm, formerly the Kerr tract and now
the home of Ex-Mayor J. H. Caldwell. The location was north and within a
stone's throw of the Drake. In November, at the depth of eighty feet, the well
was pumped three days, yielding only five barrels of oil. The outlook had an
indigo -tinge and operations ceased for a week or two. Resuming work in
December, at one-hundred-and-sixty feet indications were satisfactory. Tubing
was put in on February nineteenth, 1860, and the well responded at the rate of
fifty barrels a day ! In the language of a Hoosier dialect-poet : "Things wuz
gettin' inter-restin' !" William H. Abbott, a gentleman of wealth, reached
Titusville on February ninth and bought an interest in the Parker tract the same
month. David Crossley's well, a short distance south of the Drake and the
third finished on Oil Creek, began pumping sixty barrels a day on March fourth.
Local dealers, overwhelmed by an "embarrassment of riches," could not han-
dle such a glut of oil. Schefriin Brothers arranged to market it in New York.
Fifty-six-thousand gallons from the Barnsdall well were sold for se.venteen-
thousand dollars by June first, 1860. J. D. Angier contracted to "stamp down
a hole" for Brewer, Watson & Co., in a pit fourteen feet deep, dug and cribbed
to garner oil dipped from the "spring" on the Hamilton-McClintock farm.
Piercing the rock by " hand-power" was a tedious process. December of 1860
76
SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
dawned without a symptom of greasiness in the well, from which wondrous
results were anticipated on account of the "spring." One day's hand-pumping
produced twelve barrels of oil and so much water that an engine was required to
pump steadily. By January twentieth, 1861, the engine was puffing and the well
producing moderately, the influx of water diminishing the yield of oil. These
four, with two getting under way on the Buchanan farm, north of the McClin-
tock, and one on the J. W. McClintock tract, the site of Petroleum Centre,
summed up all the wells actually begun on Oil Creek in 1859.
Three of the four were "kicked down" by the aid of spring-poles, as were
hundreds later in shallow territory. This method afforded a mode of develop-
ment to men of limited means, with heavy muscles and light purses, although
totally inadequate for deep drilling. An elastic pole of ash or hickory, twelve
to twenty feet long, was fastened at one end to work over a fulcrum. To the
other end stirrups were attached, or a tilting platform was secured by which two
or three men produced a jerking motion that drew down the pole, its elasticity
pulling it back with sufficient force, when the men slackened their hold, to raise
KICKING DOWN 1
the tools a few inches. The principle resembled that of the treadle-board of a
sewing-machine, operating which moves the needle up and down. The tools
were swung in the driving-pipe or the "conductor" a wooden tube eight or ten
inches square, placed endwise in a hole dug to the rock and fixed by a rope to
the spring-pole two or three feet from the workmen. The strokes were rapid
and a sand-pump a spout three inches in diameter, with a hinged bottom open-
ing inward and a valve working on a sliding-rod, somewhat in the manner of
a syringe removed the borings mainly by sucking them into the spout as it
was drawn out quickly. Horse-power, in its general features precisely the kind
still used with threshing-machines, was the next step forward. Steam-engines,
employed for drilling at Tidioute in September of 1860, reduced labor and
expedited work. The first pole-derricks, twenty-five to thirty-five feet high,
have been superseded by structures that tower seventy-two to ninety feet.
Drilling-tools, the chief novelty of which are the "jars" a pair of sliding-
A HOLE IN THE GROUND. 77
bars moving within each other have increased from two-hundred pounds to
three-thousand in weight. George Smith, at Rouseville, forged the first steel-
lined jars in 1866, for H. Leo Nelson, but the steel could not be welded firmly.
Nelson also adopted the " Pleasantville Rig" on the Meade lease, Rouseville, in
1866, discarding the "Grasshopper." In the former the walking-beam is fast-
ened in the centre to the " samson-post, " with one end attached to the rods in
the well and the other to the band-wheel crank, exactly as in side-wheel steam-
boats. George Koch, of East Sandy, Pa., patented numerous improvements
on pumping-rigs, drilling-tools and gas-rigs-, for which he asked no remunera-
tion. Primitive wells had a bore of three or four inches, half the present size.
To exclude surface-water a " seed-bag" a leather-bag the diameter of the hole
was tied tightly to the tubing, filled with flax-seed and let down to the proper
depth. The top was left open and in a few hours the flax swelled so that the
space between the tubing and the walls of the well was impervious to water. Drill-
ing "wet holes" was slow and uncertain, as the tools were apt to break and the
chances of a paying well could not be decided until the pump exhausted the
water. It is surprising that over five-thousand wells were sunk with the rude
appliances in vogue up to 1868, when "casing" a larger pipe inserted usually
to the top of the first sand was introduced. This was the greatest improve-
ment ever devised in oil-developments and drilling has reached such perfection
that holes can be put down five-thousand feet safely and expeditiously. Devices
multiplied as experience was gained.
The tools that drilled the Barnsdall, Crossley and Watson wells were the
handiwork of Jonathan Lock, a Titusville blacksmith. Mr. Lock attained his
eighty-third year, died at Bradford in March of 1895 and was buried at Titus-
ville, the city in which he passed much of his active life. He was a worthy type
of the intelligent, industrious American mechanics, a class of men to whom
civilization is indebted for unnumbered comforts and conveniences. John Bryan,
who built the first steam-engine in Warren coun- . ^^^^
ty, started the first foundry and Machine-shop in
Oildom and organized the firm of Bryan, Dilling
ham & Co., began the manufacture of drilling-
tools in Titusville in 1860.
Of the partners in the second well William
Barnsdall survives. He has lived in Titusville
sixty-four years, served as mayor and operated
extensively. His son Theodore, who pumped
wells on the Parker and Weed farms, adjoining
the Barnsdall homestead, is among the largest
and wealthiest producers. Crossley 's sons re-
built the rig at their father's well in 1873, drilled
the hole deeper and obtained considerable oil.
Other wells around the Drake were treated sim-
ilarly, paying a fair profit. In 1875 this spas. JONATHAN LOCK.
modic revival of the earliest territory died out-
Machinery was removed and the derricks rotted. Jonathan Watson, in 1889,
drilled shallow wells, cleaned out several of the old ones and awakened brief
interest in the cradle of developments. Gas burning and wells pumping, thirty
years after the first strike, seemed indeed strange. Not a trace of these repeated
operations remains. The Parker and neighboring farms north-west and north
of Titusville proved disappointing, owing to the absence of the third sand,
73" SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
which a hole drilled two-thousand feet by Jonathan Watson failed to reveal.
The Parker-Farm Petroleum Company of Philadelphia bought the land in 1863
and in 1870 twelve wells were producing moderately. West and south-west the
Octave Oil Company has operated profitably for twenty years and Church Rim
has produced generously. Probably two-hundred wells were sunk above Titus-
ville, at Hydetown, Clappville, Tryonville, Centerville, Riceville, Lincolnville
and to Oil-Creek Lake, in vain attempts to discover juicy territory.
Ex-Mayor William Barnsdall is the oldest living pioneer of Titusville. Not
only has he seen the town grow from a few houses to its present proportions,
but he is one of its most esteemed citizens. Born at Biggleswade, Bedfordshire,
England, on February sixth, 1810, he lived there until 1831, when he came to
America. In 1832 he arrived at what is known as the English Settlement, seven
miles north of Titusville. The Barnsdalls founded the settlement, Joseph, a
brother of William, clearing a farm in the wilderness that then covered the
country. Remaining in the settlement a year, in 1833 William Barnsdall came
to the hamlet of Titusville, where he has ever since resided. He established a
small shop to manufacture boots and shoes, continuing at the business until the
discovery of oil in 1859. Immediately after the completion of the Drake strike
he began drilling the second well on Oil Creek. Before this well produced oil, in
February of 1860, he sold a part interest to William H. Abbott for ten-thousand
dollars. He associated himself with Abbott and James Parker and, early in
1860, commenced the first oil-refinery on Oil Creek. It was sold to Jonathan
Watson for twenty-five-thousand dollars. From those early days to the present
Mr. Barnsdall has been identified with the production of petroleum. At the
ripe age of eighty-seven years, respected as few men are in any community and
enjoying an unusual measure of mental and physical strength, he calmly awaits
"the inevitable hour."
Hon. David Emery, the last owner of the Drake well, was for many years a
successful oil-operator. At Pioneer he drilled a number of prime wells, follow-
ing the course of developments along Oil Creek. He organized the Octave Oil-
Company and was its chief officer. Removing to Titusville, he erected a fine
residence and took a prominent part in public affairs. His purse was ever open
to forward a good cause. Had the Republican party, of which he was an active
member, been properly alive to the interests of the Commonwealth, he would
have been Auditor-General of Pennsylvania. In all the relations and duties of
life David Emery was a model citizen. Called hence in the vigor of stalwart
manhood, multitudes of attached friends cherish his memory as that "of one
who loved his fellow-men."
Born in England in 1818, David Crossley ran away from home and came to
America as a stowaway in 1828. He found relatives at Paterson, N. J., and
lived with them until about 1835, when he bound himself out to learn black-
smithing. On March seventeenth, 1839, he married Jane Alston and in the
winter of 1841-2 walked from New York to Titusville, walking back in the
spring. The following autumn he brought his family to Titusville. For a few
years he tried farming, but gave it up and went back to his trade until 1859,
when he formed a partnership with William Barnsdall, William H. Abbott and
P. T. Witherop, under the firm-name of Crossley, Witherop & Co., and began
drilling the third well put down on Oil Creek. The well was completed on
March tenth, 1860, having been drilled one-hundred-and-forty feet with a spring-
pole. It produced at the rate of seventy-five barrels per day for a short time.
The next autumn the property was abandoned on account of decline in produc-
A HOLE IN THE GROUND. 79
tion. In 1865 Crossley bought out his partners and drilled the well to a depth
of five-hundred-and-fifty feet, but again abandoned it because of water. In 1872
he and his sons drilled other wells upon the same property and in a short time
had so reduced the water that the investment became a paying one. In 1873 he
and William Barnsdall and others drilled the first producing well in the Brad-
ford oil-field. His health failed in 1875 and he died on October eleventh, 1880,
esteemed by all for his manliness and integrity. <.
Z. Martin, who befriended Drake in his sad extremity, landed at Titusville
in March of 1860 and pumped the Barnsdall, Mead & Rouse well on Parker's
flat, the first well in Crawford county that pro-
duced oil. In 1861 he went to the Clapp farm,
above Oil City, as superintendent of the Boston
Rock-Oil-Company, only three of whose eigh-
teen wells were paying ventures. The Company
quitting, Martin bought and shipped crude to
Pittsburg for Brewer, Burke & Co., traveling to
the wells on horseback to secure oil for his
boats. He bought the Eagle Hotel at Titus
ville in 1862, conducted it two years and sold
the building to C. V. Culver for bank-purposes
Mr. Martin resided at Titusville many years and
was widely known as the capable landlord of
the palatial Hotel Brunswick. He was the in-
timate friend of Colonel Drake, Jonathan Wat-
son, George H. Bissell and the pioneer operators
on Oil Creek. His son, L. L. Martin, is running
the Commercial Hotel at Meadville, where the father makes his home, young
in everything but years and always pleased to greet his oil-region acquaintances.
t Thus dawned the petroleum-day that could not be hidden under myriads
of bushels. The report of the Drake well traveled "from Greenland's icy
mountains" to "India's coral strands," causing unlimited guessing as to the
possible outcome. Crude-petroleum was useful for various things, but a farmer
who visited the newest wonder hit a fresh lead. Begging a jug of oil, he para-
lyzed Colonel Drake by observing as he strode off: "This'll be durned good
tew spread onto buckwheat-cakes !"
Bishop Simpson once delivered his lecture on "American Progress," in
which he did not mention petroleum, before an immense Washington audience.
President Lincoln heard it and said, as he and the eloquent speaker came out of
the hall : " Bishop, you didn't 'strike ile' !"
When the Barnsdall well, on the Parker farm, produced hardly any oil from
the first rind, the coming Mayor of Titusville quietly clinched the argument in
favor of drilling it deeper by remarking : " It's a long way from the bottom of
that hole to China and I'm bound to bore for tea-leaves if we don't get the
grease sooner !"
" De Lawd thinks heaps ob Pennsylvany, " said a colored exhorter in Pitts-
burg, "fur jes' ez whales iz gettin' sca'ce he pints outen de way fur Kunnel
Drake ter 'scoveh petroleum !" A solemn preacher in Crawford county held a
different opinion. One day he tramped into Titusville to relieve his burdened
mind. He cornered Drake on the street and warned him to quit taking oil from
the ground. "Do you know," he hissed, "that you're interfering with the
Almighty Creator of the universe ? God put that oil in the bowels of the earth
8o SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
to burn the world at the last day and yon, poor worm of the dust, are trying to
thwart His plans !" No wonder the loud check in the Colonel's barred panta-
loons wilted at this unexpected outburst, which Drake often recounted with
extreme gusto.
The night "Uncle Billy" Smith's lantern ignited the tanks at the Drake
well the blaze and smoke of the first oil-fire in Pennsylvania ascended high. A
loud-mouthed professor of religion, whose piety was of the brand that needed
close watching in a horse-trade, saw the sight and scampered to the hills shout-
ing : " It's the day of judgment !" How he proposed to dodge the reckoning,
had his surmise been correct, the terrified victim could not explain when his
fright subsided and friends rallied him on the scare.
The Drake well blazed the path in the wilderness that set petroleum on its
triumphant march. This nation, already the most enlightened, was to be the
most enlightening under the sun. An Atlantic of oil lay beneath its feet.
America, its young, plump sister, could laugh at lean Europe. War raged and
the old world sought to drain the republic of its gold. The United States ex-
ported mineral-fat and kept the yellow dross at home. Petroleum was crowned
king, dethroning cotton and yielding a revenue, within four years of Drake's
modest strike, exceeding that from coal and iron combined ! Talk of Califor-
nia's gold-fever, Colorado's silver-furore and Barney Barnato's Caffir-mania.
American petroleum is a leading article of commerce, requiring hundreds
of vessels to transport it to distant lands. Its refined product is known all over
the civilized world. It has found its way to every part of Europe and the
remotest portions of Asia. It shines on the western prairie, burns in the homes
of New England and illumines miles of princely warehouses in the great cities
of America. Everywhere is it to be met with, in the Levant and the Orient, in
the hovel of the Russian peasant and the harem of the Turkish pasha. It is the
one article imported from the United States and sold in the bazaars of Bagdad,
the ' ' City of the Thousand-and-One-Nights." It lights the dwellings, the tem-
ples and the mosques amid the ruins of Babylon and Nineveh. It is the light
of Abraham's birthplace and of the hoary city of Damascus. It burns in the
Grotto of the Nativity at Bethlehem, in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre at
Jerusalem, on the Acropolis of Athens and the plains of Troy, in cottage and
palace along the banks of the Bosphorus, the Euphrates, the Tigris and the
Golden Horn. It has penetrated China and Japan, invaded the fastnesses of
Tartary, reached the wilds of Australia and shed its radiance over African
wastes. Pennsylvania petroleum is the true cosmopolite, omnipresent and
omnipotent in fulfilling its mission of illuminating the universe ! A product of
nature that is such a controlling influence in the affairs of men may well chal-
lenge attention to its origin, its history and its economic uses.
All this from a three-inch hole seventy feet in the ground !
A grape-seed is a small affair,
Yet, swallow'd when you sup,
In your appendix it may stick
Till doctors carve you up.
A coral-insect is not large,
Still it can build a reef
On which the biggest ship that floats
May quickly come to grief.
A hint, a word, a look, a breath
May bear envenom'd stings,
From all of which the moral learn:
Despise not little things I
IN A NUTSHELL.
Colonel Drake used the first driving pipe.
Adolph Schreiner, of Austria, made the first petroleum-lamp.
The first oil-well drilled by steam power was opposite Tidioute, in 1860.
Jonathan Watson put down the first deep well on Oil Creek 2,130 feet
in 1866.
William Phillips boated the first cargo of oil down the Allegheny to Pitts-
burg in March, 1860.
The Chinese were the first to drill with tools attached to ropes, which they
twisted from rattan.
The Liverpool Lamp, devised by an unknown Englishman, was the first to
have a glass-chimney and do away with smoke.
The first tubing in oil-wells was manufactured at Pittsburg, with brass
screw-joints soldered on the pipe, the same as at Tarentum salt-wells.
The first steamboat reached the mouth of Oil Creek in 1828, with a load of
Pittsburgers. The first train crossed Oil Creek into Oil City on a track on the ice.
William A. Smith, who drilled the Drake well, made the first rimmer.
While enlarging a well with a bit the point broke off, after which greater
progress was noted. The accident suggested the rimmer.
The first white settler in the Pennsylvania oil-regions was John Frazier, who
built a cabin at Wenango Franklin in 1745, kept a gun-shop and traded with
the Indians until driven off by the French in 1753, the year of George Wash-
ington's visit.
Jonathan Titus located at Titusville in 1797, on land made famous by the
Drake well. In that year the first oil skimmed from Oil Creek to be marketed
was sold at Pittsburg, then a collection of log-cabins, at sixteen dollars a gallon!
Now people kick at half that many cents for the refined article.
Early well-owners found the tools and fuel, paid all expenses but labor and
paid three-dollars-and-fifty-cents per foot to the contractor, yet so many con-
tractors failed that a lien-law was passed. George Koch, in November of 1873,
took out a patent on fluted drills, which did away with the rimmer, reduced the
time of drilling a well from sixty days to twenty and reduced the price from
three dollars per foot to fifty cents
Sam Taft was the first to use a line to control the engine from the derrick,
at a well near McClintockville, in 1867. Henry Webber was the first to regu-
late the motion of the engine from the derrick. He drilled a well near Smoky
City, on the Porter farm, in 1863, with a rod from the derrick to the throttle-
valve. He also dressed the tools, with the forge in the derrick, perhaps the
first time this was done. He drilled this well six-hundred feet with no help.
Near this well was the first plank-derrick in the oil-country.
The first derricks were of poles, twelve feet base and twenty-eight to thirty
feet high. The ladder was made by putting pins through a corner of a leg of
the derrick. The Samson-post was mortised in the ground. The band-wheel
was hung in a frame like a grindstone. A single bull-wheel, made out of about
a thousand feet of lumber, placed on the side of the derrick next to the band-
wheel, with a rope or old rubber-belt for a brake, was used. When the tools
were let down the former would burn and smoke, the latter would smell like
ancient codfish,
r~
VL
THE WORLD'S LUBRICANT.
A GLANCE AT A PRETTY SETTLEMENT EVANS AND His WONDERFUL WELL
HEAVY OIL AT FRANKLIN TO GREASE ALL THE WHEELS IN CREATION-
ORIGIN OF A POPULAR PHRASE OPERATIONS ON FRENCH CREEK EXCITE-
MENT AT FEVER HEAT GALENA AND SIGNAL OIL- WORKS RISE AND PROG-
RESS OF A GREAT INDUSTRY CRUMBS SWEPT UP.
" The race was on, the souls of the racers were in it." Gen. Lew Wallace.
"Wild rumors are afloat in Jericho."/. L. Barlow.
" Carthage has crossed the Alps ; Rome, the sea." Victor Hugo.
"There shall be no Alps." Napoleon.
"We must not hope to be mowers
Until we have first been sowers." Alice Gary.
"Gained the lead, and kept it, and steered his journey free." Will Carleton.
" A cargo of petroleum may cross the ocean in a vessel propelled by steam it has generated, acting
upon an engine it lubricates and directed by an engineer who may grease his hair, limber his
joints, and freshen his liver with the same article." Petrolia, A.D. 1870.
" Friction, not motion, is the great destroyer of machinery." Engineering- Journal.
"Here was * * * a battle of Marengo to be gained." Balzac.
HEAP and abundant light the island-
well on Oil Creek assured the nations
sitting in darkness. If there are
"tongues in trees" and "sermons
in stones" the trickling stream of
greenish liquid murmured : "Bring
on your lamps we can fill them !"
The second oil-well in Pennsylvania,
eighteen miles from Col. Drake's,
changed the strain to: "Bring on
your wheels we can grease them !"
America was to be the world's illu-
minator and lubricator not merely
to dispel gloom and chase hobgob-
lins, but to increase the power of
machinery by decreasing the imped-
iments to easy motion. Friction has
cost enough for extra wear and stop-
pages and breakages " to buy every
darkey forty acres and a mule. ' ' The
first coal-oil for sale in this country was manufactured at Waltham, Mass. , in
1852, by Luther Atwood, who called it "Coup Oil," from the recent coup of
Louis Napoleon. Although highly esteemed as a lubricator, its offensive odor
and poor quality would render it unmerchantable to-day. Samuel Downer's
hydro-carbon oils in 1856 were marked improvements, yet they would cut a
sorry figure beside the unrivaled lubricant produced from the wells at Franklin,
83
BIG ROCK BELOW FRANKLIN.
84 SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
the county-seat of Venango. It is a coincidence that the petroleum era should
have introduced light and lubrication almost simultaneously, one on Oil Creek,
the other on French Creek, and both in a region comparatively isolated. ' ' Mis-
fortunes never come singly," said the astounded father of twins, in a paroxysm
of bewilderment ; but happily blessings often come treading closely on each
other's heels.
Pleasantly situated on French Creek and the Allegheny River, Franklin is
an interesting town, with a history dating from the middle of the eighteenth
century. John Frazer, a gunsmith, occupied a hut and traded with the Indians
in 1747. Four forts, one French, one British and two American, were erected
in 1754, 1760, 1787 and 1796. Captain Joncaire commanded the French forces.
George Washington, a British lieutenant, with no premonition of fathering a
great country, visited the spot in 1753. The north-west was a wilderness and
Pittsburg had not been laid out. Franklin was surveyed in 1795, created a bor-
ough in 1829 and a city in 1869, deriving its chief importance from petroleum.
Lofty hills and winding streams are conspicuous. Spring-water is abundant,
the air is invigorating and healthfulness is proverbial. James Johnston, a negro-
farmer of Frenchcreek township, stuck it out for one-hundred-and-nine sum-
mers, lamenting that death got around six months too soon for him to attend
the Philadelphia Centennial. Angus McKenzie, of Sugarcreek, whose strong-
box served as a bank in early days, reached one-hundred-and-eight. Mrs.
McDowell, a pioneer, was bright and nimble three years beyond the century-
mark. Galbraith McMullen, of Waterloo, touched par. John Morrison, the
first court-crier, rounded out ninety-eight. A successor, Robert Lytle, was sum-
moned at eighty-seven, his widow living to celebrate her ninety-fourth birthday.
David Smith succumbed at ninety-nine and
Willliam Raymond at ninety-three. Mr. Ray-
mond was straight as an arrow, walked smart-
. ^1^ \ ty an d m youth was the close friend of John J.
Pearson, who began to practice law at Frank-
lin and was President Judge of Dauphin county
thirty-three years. J. B. Nicklin, fifty years a
respected citizen, died in 1890 at eighty-nine.
To the end he retained his mental and phys-
ical strength, kept the accounts of the Baptist
church, was at his desk regularly and could
hit the bullseye with the crack shots of the
military company. William Hilands, county-
surveyor, was a familiar figure on the streets
at eighty-seven. Rev. Dr. Crane preached,
lectured, visited the sick and continued to
j. B. NICKLIN. C j g OOC j at eighty-six. Grandma Snyder is
eighty-eight and Benjamin May, a few miles up the Allegheny, is hardy and
hearty at ninety -one. At eighty-five "Uncle Billy" Grove, of Canal, would
hunt deer in Forest county and walk farther and faster than any man in the
township. The people who have rubbed fourscore would fill a ten-acre patch.
Of course, some get sick and die young, or the doctors would starve, heaven
would be short of youthful tenants and the theories of Malthus might have to
be tried on.
Franklin boasts the finest stone side-walks in the State. There are impos-
ing churches, shady parks, broad streets, cosy homes, spacious stores, first-class
THE WORLD'S LUBRICANT. 85
schools, fine hotels and inviting drives. For years the Baptist quartette has not
been surpassed in New York or Philadelphia. The opera-house is a gem. Three
railroads a fourth is coming that will lop off sixty -five miles between New York
and Chicago and electric street-cars supply rapid transit. Five substantial
banks, a half-dozen millionaires, two-dozen hundred-thousand-dollar-citizens
and multitudes of well-to-do property-holders give the place financial backbone.
Manufactures flourish, wages are liberal and many workmen own their snug
houses. Probably no town in the United States, of seven-thousand population,
has greater wealth, better society and a kindlier feeling clear through the com-
munity.
On the south bank of French Creek, at Twelfth and Otter streets, James
Evans, blacksmith, had lived twenty years. A baby when his parents settled
farther up in 1802, he removed to Franklin in 1839. His house stood near the
"spring" from which Hulings and Whitman wrung out the viscid scum. In dry
weather the well he dug seventeen feet for water smelled and tasted of petro-
leum. Tidings of Drake's success set the blacksmith thinking. Drake had
bored into the well close to the "spring" and found oil. Why not try the ex-
periment at Franklin ? Evans was not flush of cash, but the hardware-dealer
trusted him for the iron and he hammered out rough drilling- tools. He and
his son Henry rigged a spring-pole and bounced the drill in the water-well.
At seventy-two feet a crevice was encountered. The tools dropped, breaking
off a fragment of iron, which obstinately refused to be fished out. Pumping by
hand would determine whether a prize or a blank was to be drawn in the greas-
ian lottery. Two men plied the pump vigorously. A stream of dark-green fluid
gushed forth at the rate of twenty-five barrels a day. It was heavy oil, about
thirty degrees gravity, free from grit and smooth as silk. The greatest lubricant
on earth had been unearthed !
Picture the pandemonium that followed. Franklin had no such convulsion
since the William B. Duncan, the first steamboat, landed one Sunday evening
in January, 1828. The villagers speeded to the well as though all the imps of
sheol were in pursuit. November court adjourned in half the number of seconds
Sut Lovingood's nest of hornets broke up the African camp-meeting. Judge
John S. McCalmont, whose able opinions the Supreme Court liked to adopt,
decided there was ample cause for action. A doctor rushed to the scene hatless,
coatless and shoeless. Women deserted their households without fixing their
back-hair or getting inside their dress-parade toggery. Babies cried, children
screamed, dogs barked, bells rang and two horses ran away. At prayer-meeting
a ruling elder, whom the events of the day had wrought to fever-heat, raised a
hilarious snicker by imploring God to "send a shower of blessings yea, Lord,
twenty-five barrels of blessings ! " Altogether it was a red-letter forenoon, for
twenty-five barrels a day of thirty-dollar oil none felt inclined to sneeze at.
That night a limb of the law, "dressed in his best suit of clothes, " called at
the Evans domicile. Miss Anna, one of the fair daughters of the house, greeted
him at the door and said jokingly : " Dad's struck ile ! " The expression caught
the town, making a bigger hit than the well itself. It spread far and wide, was
printed everywhere and enshrined permanently in the petroleum-vernacular.
The young lady married Miles Smith, the eminent furniture-dealer, still trading
on Thirteenth street. In 1875 Mr. Smith revisited his native England, after many
years' absence. Meeting a party of gentlemen at a friend's house, the conver-
sation turned upon Pennsylvania. "May lawsk, Mr. Smith," a Londoner in-
quired, " if you hever 'eard in your 'ome about ' dad's stwuck ile ' ? I wead it
86 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
in the papahs, doncherknow, but I fawncied it nevah weally 'appened." Mr.
Smith had " 'eard " it and the delight of the company, when he recited the cir-
cumstances and told of marrying the girl, may be conceived. The phrase is
billed for immortality.
Sufficient oil to pay for an engine was soon pumped. Steam-power increased
the yield to seventy barrels ! Franklin became the Mecca of speculators, traders,
dealers and monied men. Frederic Prentice, a leader in aggressive enterprises,
offered forty-thousand dollars for the well and lot. Evans rejected the bid and
kept the well, which declined to ten or twelve barrels within six months. The
price of oil shrank like a flannel-shirt, but the lucky disciple of Vulcan realized a
nice competence. He enjoyed his good fortune some years before journeying
to "that bourne from which no traveler e'er re turns." Mrs. Evans long survived,
dying at eighty-six. The son removed to Kansas, three daughters died and one
resides at Franklin. The old well experienced its complement of fluctuations.
Mosely & Co., of Philadelphia, leased it. It stood idle, the engine was taken
away, the rig tumbled and the hole filled up partially with dirt and wreckage.
Prices spurted and the well was hitched to a pumping-rig operating others around
it. Captain S. A. Hull ran a group of the wells on the flats and a dozen three
miles down the Allegheny. He was a man of generous impulses, finely edu-
cated and exceedingly companionable. His death, in 1893, resulted in disman-
tling most of these wells, hardly a vestige remaining to tell that the Evans and its
neighbors ever existed.
James Evans was not "left blooming alone " in the search for oily worlds
to conquer. Companies were organized while he was yanking the tools in the
well that "set 'em crazy." The first of these The Franklin Oil-and-Mining-
Company started work on October fifth, twenty rods below Evans, finding oil
at two-hundred-and-forty-one feet on January twelfth, 1860. The well pumped
about one-half as much as the Evans for several months, but did not die of old
age. The forty-two shares of stock advanced ten-fold in one week, selling at a
thousand dollars each. Three or four wells were put down, the company dis-
solving and members operating on their own hook. It was strongly officered,
with Arnold Plumer as president ; J. P. Hoover, vice-president ; Aaron W. Ray-
mond, secretary ; James Bleakley, Robert Lamberton, R. A. Brashear, J. L.
Hanna and Thomas Hoge, executive committee. Mr. Plumer was a dominant
factor in Democratic politics, largely instrumental in the nomination of James
Buchanan for President, twice a member of Congress, twice State-Treasurer,
Canal-Commissioner and founder of the First- National Bank. At his death, in
1869, he devised his family an estate that appraised several million dollars, mak-
ing it the largest in Venango county. Judge Lamberton opened the first bank
in the oil-regions, owned hundreds of houses and in 1885 bequeathed each of
his eight children a handsome fortune. Colonel Bleakley rose by his own
exertions, keen foresight and skillful management. He invested in productive
realty, drilled scores of wells around Franklin, built iron-tanks and brick-blocks,
established a bank, held thousands of acres of lands and in 1884 left a very
large inheritance to his sons and daughters. Mr. Raymond developed the Ray-
milton district it was named from him in which hundreds of fair wells have
rewarded Franklin operators, and at eighty-nine was exceedingly quick in his
movements. Mr. Brashear, a civil engineer and exemplary citizen, has been
in the grave twenty years. Mr. Hanna operated heavily in oil, acquired numer-
ous farms and erected the biggest block it contained the first opera-house in
the city. He is handling real-estate, but his former partner, John Duffield,
THE WORLD'S LUBRICANT.
slumbers in the cemetery. Mr. Hoge, an influential politician, elected to the
Legislature two terms and Mayor one term, has also joined the silent majority.
In February, 1860, Caldwell & Co., a block southeast of Evans, finished a
paying well at two-hundred feet. The Farmers and Mechanics' Company, Levi
Dodd, president, drilled a medium producer at the foot of High street, on the
bank of the creek. Mr. Dodd was an old settler, originator of the first Sabbath-
school in Franklin and a ruling-elder for over fifty years. Numerous compa-
nies and individuals pushed work in the spring. Holes were sunk in front yards,
gardens and water-wells. Derricks dotted the landscape thickly. Franklin was
the objective point of immense crowds of people.
x The earliest wells were shallow, seldom exceeding
\ two-hundred feet. The Mammoth, near a huge wal-
1^ nut tree back of the Evans lot, began flowing on May
V&Sfofc, fifteenth to the tune of a hundred barrels. This was
I^AlBt the first "spouter" in the district and it quadrupled
the big excitement. Four-hundred
barrels of oil were shipped to Pitts-
burg, by the steamboat Venango,
on April twenty- seventh. Twenty-
two wells were drilling and twenty
producing on July first. Farms for
miles up French
Creek had been
bought at high
prices and the
noise of the drill
summer ozone. ^^1 ^ JT jj ' f^Pfc f^f | permeated the
Four miles west ' : "-
of Franklin, zig-
zag Sugar Creek
shared in the ac-
tivity. Then the
prices " came down like a thousand
of brick." Pumping was expensive,
lands were scarce and dear, hauling
the oil to a railroad cost half its
value and hosts of small wells were
abandoned. On November first,
within the borough limits, fifteen were yielding one-
hundred-and-forty barrels. Curtz & Strain had bored
five-hundred feet in October, the deepest well in the
neighborhood, without finding additional oil-bearing
rock. The Presidential election foreboded trouble,
war-clouds loomed up and the year closed gloomily.
The advantages of Franklin heavy-oil as a lubricant were quickly recog-
nized. It possessed a " body " that artificial oils could not rival. In the crude
state it withstood a cold-test twenty degrees below zero. Here is where it ' ' had
the bulge" on alleged lubricants which solidify into a sort of liver with every
twitch of frost. The producing-area of heavy-oil is restricted to a limited sec-
tion, where the first sand is thirty to sixty feet thick and the lower sands were
entirely omitted in the original distribution of strata. For years operators
J. LINDSAY HANNA.
AARON W. RAYMOND.
88 SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
hugged the banks of the streams and the low grounds, keeping off the hills
more willingly than General Coxey kept off the Washington grass. The famous
" Point Hill," across French Creek from the Evans well, went begging for a pur-
chaser. At its southern base Mason & Lane, Cook & Co., Welsby & Smith,
Shuster, Andrews, Green and others had profitable wells, but nobody dreamed
of boring through the steep ''Point" for oil. J. Lowry Dewoody offered the
lordly hill, with its forty acres of dense evergreen-brush, to Charles Miller for
fifteen-hundred dollars. He wanted the money to drill on the flats and the hill
was an elephant on his hands.
During the Columbian Exposition an aged man alighted from a western
train at the union-depot in Chicago. His rifle and his buckskin-suit indicated
the Kit-Carson brand of hunter. He gazed about him in amazement and a
crowd assembled. "Wai," ejaculated the white-haired Nimrod, "this be Chi-
cago, eh ? Sixty years ago I killed lots ov game right whar we stan' an' old man
Kinzey fell all over hisse'f to trade me a hunnerd acre ov land fur a pair ov cow-
hide boots ! I might hev took him up, but, consarn it, I didn't hev the boots !"
WILLIAM PAINTER.
EDWARD RIAL.
J. LOWRY DEWOODY.
Something of this kind would apply to Mr. Miller and the Dewoody propo-
sition. He had embarked in the business that was to bring him wealth and
honor, but just at that time " didn't hev " the fifteen-hundred to spare from his
working-capital for the fun of owning a hill presumed to be worthless except
for scenery. Colonel Bleakley and Dr. A. G. Egbert bought it later at a low
figure. Operators scaled the slopes and hills and the first well on the " Point "
was of the kind to whet the appetite for more. Bleakley & Egbert pocketed a
keg of cold-cash from their wells and the royalty paid by lessees. Daniel
Grimm's production put him in the van of Franklin oilmen. He came to the
town in 1861, had a dry-goods store in partnership with the lace William A.
Horton and in 1869 drilled his first well. W. J. Mattern and Edward Rial &
Son had a rich slice. The foundation of a dozen fortunes was laid on the.
"Point," which yields a few barrels daily, although only a shadow of its former
self. From the western end of the hill thousands of tons of a peculiar shale
have been manufactured into paving-brick, the hardest and toughest in America.
A million dollars would not pay for the oil taken from the hill that found no
takers at fifteen-hundred !
Dewoody, over whose grave the storms of a dozen winters have blown, was
a singular character. He cared not a continental for style and was independent
THE WORLD'S LUBRICANT. 89
in speech and behavior. Bagging a term in the Legislature as a Democratic-
Greenbacker, his rugged honesty was proof against the allurements of the lob-
byists, jobbers and heelers who disgrace common decency. His most remark-
able act was a violent assault on the Tramp-Bill, a measure. cruel as the laws of
Draco, which Rhoads of Carlisle contrived to pass. He paced the central aisle,
spoke in the loudest key and gesticulated fiercely. Tossing his long auburn
hair like a lion's mane, he wound up his torrent of denunciation with terrible
emphasis : " If Jesus Christ were on earth this monstrous bill would jerk him as
a vagrant and dump him into the lock-up !"
Gradually developments crept north and east. The Galloway its Dolly
Varden well was a daisy Lamberton and McCalmont farms were riddled with
holes that repaid the outlay lavishly. Henry F. James drilled scores of paying
wells on these tracts. In his youth he circled the globe on whaling voyages
and learned coopering. Spending a few months at Pithole in 1865, he returned
to Venango county in 1871, superintended the Franklin Pipe-Line five years and
operated judiciously. He was active in agriculture and served three terms in
the Legislature with distinguished fidelity. He defeated measures inimical to
the oil-industry and promoted the passage of the Marshall Bill, by which pipe-
lines were permitted to buy, sell or consolidate. This sensible law relieves
pipe-lines in the older districts, where the production is very light, from the
necessity of maintaining separate equipments at a loss or ruining hundreds of
well-owners by tearing up the pipes for junk and depriving operators of trans-
portation. The late Casper Frank, William Painter he was killed at his wells
Dr. Fee, the Harpers, E. D. Yates and others extended the field into Sugar-
creek township. Elliott, Nesbett & Bell's first well on the Snyder farm, starting
at thirty barrels and settling down to regular work at fifteen, elongated the Gal-
loway pool and brought adjoining lands into play. Kunkel & Newhouse, Stock
& Co., Mitchell & Parker, Crawford & Dickey, Dr. Galbraith and M. O'Connor
kept many sets of tools from rusting. The extension to the Carter and frontier-
farms developed oil of lighter gravity, but a prime lubricator. Mrs. Harold, a
Chicago lady, dreamed a certain plot, which she beheld distinctly, would yield
heavy-oil in abundance. She visited Franklin, traversed the district a mile in
advance of developed territory, saw the land of her dream, bargained for it,
drilled wells and obtained " lashin's of oil !" Still there are bipeds in bifurcated
garments who declare woman's "sphere" is the kitchen, with dish-washing,
sock-darning and meal-getting as her highest "rights !"
Jacob Sheasley, who came from Dauphin county in 1860 and branched into
oil in 1864, is the largest operator in the bailiwick. He drilled at Pithole, Par-
ker, Bradford, on all sides of Franklin and put down a hundred wells the last
two years. He enlarged the boundaries of the lubricating section by leasing
lands previously condemned and sinking test-wells in 1893-4, with gratifying
results. Rarely missing his guess on territory, he has been almost invariably
fortunate. His son, George R., has operated in Venango and Butler counties
and owns a bunch of desirable wells on Bully Hill, with his brother Charles as
partner. The father and two sons are "three of a kind" hard to beat.
A mile north of Franklin, in February of 1870, the Surprise well on Patchel
Run, a streamlet bearing the name of the earliest hat-maker, surprised everybody
by its output. It foamed and gassed and frothed excessively, filling the pipe
with oil and water. Throngs tramped the turnpike over the toilsome hill to look
at the boiling, fuming tank into which the well belched its contents. "Good for
four-hundred barrels" was the verdict. A party of us hurried from Oil Creek
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
to judge for ourselves. Although the estimate was six times too great, a lease
of adjacent lands would not be bad to take. Rev. Mr. Johns, retired pastor of
the Presbyterian church at Spartansburg, Crawford county, had charge of the
property. My acquaintance with Mr. Johns devolved upon me the duty of nego-
tiating for the tract. He received me graciously and would be pleased to lease
twenty acres for one-half the oil and one-thousand dollars an acre bonus ! Br'er
John's exalted notions soared far too high to be entertained seriously. The
Surprise fizzled down to four or five barrels in a week and the good minister
for twenty years he has been enjoying his treasure in heaven never fingered a
penny from his land save the royalty of two or three small wells.
Major W. T. Baum has operated in the heavy-oil field thirty-two years, be-
ginning in 1864. He passed through the Pithole excitement and drilled largely
at Foster, Pleasantville, Scrubgrass, Bullion, Gas City, Clarion, Butler and Tar-
kiln. His faith in Scrubgrass territory has been recompensed richly. In 1894
he sank a well on the west bank of the Allegheny, opposite Kennerdell Station,
in hope of a ten-barrel strike. It pumped one-hundred-and-fifty barrels a day
COL. JOHN H. CAIN.
GEORGE PLUMER SMITH.
w. s. M'MULLAN.
for months and it is doing fifty barrels to-day, with three more of similar caliber
to keep it company ! The Major's persevering enterprise deserves the reward
Dame Fortune is bestowing. He owns the wells and lands on Patchel Run,
which yield a pleasant revenue. Colonel J. H. Cain, Colonel L. H. Fassett and
J. W. Grant, all successful operators, have their wells in the vicinity. Modern
devices connect wells far apart, by coupling them with rods two to ten feet
above ground, so that a single engine can pump thirty or forty in shallow terri-
tory. The downward stroke of one helps the upward stroke of the other, each
pair nearly balancing. This enables the owners of small wells to pump them at
the least expense. Heavy-oil has sold for years at three-sixty to four dollars a
barrel, consequently a quarter-barrel apiece from forty wells, handled by one
man and engine, would exceed the income from a quarter-million dollars salted
down in government bonds. It is worth traveling a long distance to stand on
the hill and watch the pumping of Baum's, Grimm's, Cain's, Grant's, Sheasley's
and James's wells, some of them a mile from the power that sets the strings of
connecting-rods in motion.
On Two-Mile Run, up the Allegheny two miles, W. S. McMullan drilled
several wells in 1871-2. The product was the blackest of black oils, indicating
a deposit separated from the main reservoir of the lubricating region. Subse-
THE WORLD'S LUBRICANT, 91
quent operations demonstrated that a dry streak intervened. Captain L. L.
Ray put down fair wells near the river in 1894. Mr. McMullan resided at Rouse-
ville and had valuable interests on Oil Creek. He served a term in the State
Senate, reflecting honor upon himself and his constituents. A man of integrity
and capacity, he could be trusted implicitly. Fifteen years ago he removed to
Missouri to engage in lumbering. Senator McMullan, Captain Willian Hasson,
member of Assembly, and Judge Trunkey, who presided over the court and
later graced the Supreme Bench, were three Venango-county men in public
life whom railroad-passes never swerved from the path of duty. They refused
all such favors and paid their way like gentlemen. If lawgivers and judges of
their noble impress were the rule rather than the exception' a consummation
devoutly to be wished " grasping corporations would not own legislatures and
"drive a coach and four " through any enactment with impunity.
George P. Smith's tract of land between Franklin and Two-Mile Run netted
him a competence in oil and then sold for one-hundred-thousand dollars. Mr.
Smith dispenses liberally to charitable objects, assists his friends and uses kis
wealth properly. He owns his money, instead of letting it own him. He has
traveled much, observed closely and profited by what he has seen and read. He
is verging on fourscore, his home is in Philadelphia and "the world will be the
better for his having lived in it."
The production of heavy-oil in 1875 aggregated one-hundred-and-thirty-
thousand barrels. In 1877 it dropped to eighty-eight-thousand barrels and in
1878 to seventy thousand. Thirteen-hundred wells produced sixty-thousand
barrels in 1883. Taft & Payn's pipe-line was laid in 1870 from the Egbert and
Dewoody tracts to the river, extended to Galloway in 1872 and combined with
the Franklin line in 1878. The Producers' Pipe-Line Company began to trans-
port oil in 1883. J. A. Harris, who died in 1894, had the first refinery in the oil-
regions in 1860. His plant was extremely primitive. Colonel J. P. Hoover
built the first refinery of note, which burned in the autumn of 1861. Sims &
Whitney had one in 1861 and the Norfolk Oil- Works were established the same
year, below the Allegheny bridge. Samuel Spencer, of Scranton, expended
thirty-thousand dollars on the Keystone Oil-Works, near the cemetery, in 1864.
Nine refineries, most of them running the lighter oils, were operated in 1854-5,
after which the business collapsed for years. Dr. Tweddle, a Pittsburg refiner
who had suffered by fire, organized a company in 1872 to start the Eclipse
Works. At different periods many of the local operators have been interested
in refining, now the leading Franklin industry.
For some time heavy-oil was used principally in its natural state. At length
improvements of great value were devised, out of which have grown the oil-
works devoted solely to the manufacture of lubricants. Among these the most
important and successful was that adopted in 1869 by Charles Miller, of Frank-
lin, protected by letters-patent of the United States and since by patents cover-
ing the complete method. Besides improvements in the method of manufactur-
ing, he recognized the value of lead-oxide as an ingredient in lubricating oils
and a patent was secured for the combination of whale-oil, oxide of lead and
petroleum. The Great-Northern Oil-Company, once a big organization, had
built a refinery in 1865 on the north bank of French Creek, below the Evans
Well, and leased it in 1868 to Colonel Street. In May of 1869 Mr. Miller and
John Coon purchased the Point Lookout Oil-Works, as the refinery was called,
Street retiring. The total tankage was one-thousand barrels and the daily man-
ufacturing capacity scarcely one-hundred. The new firm, of which R. L. Cochran
92 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL,
became a member in July, pushed the business with characteristic energy, doub-
ling the plant and extending the trade in all directions. Mr. Cochran withdrew
in January of 1870, R. H. Austin buying his interest. The following August fire
destroyed the works, entailing severe loss. A calamity that would have dis-
heartened most men seemed only to imbue the partners with fresh vigor. Colonel
Henry B. Plumer, a wealthy citizen of Franklin, entered the firm and the Dale
light-oil refinery, a half-mile up the creek, was bought and remodeled through-
out. Reorganized on a solid basis as the " Galena Oil-Works," a name des-
tined to gain world-wide reputation, within one month from the fire the new
establishment, its buildings and entire equipment changed and adapted to the
treatment of heavy-oil, was running to its full capacity night and day ! Such
enterprise and pluck augured happily for the future and they have been rewarded
abundantly.
Orders poured in more rapidly than ever. The local demand spread to the
adjoining districts. Customers once secured were sure to stay. In addition to
the excellence of the product, there was a vim about the business and its man-
agement that inspired confidence and won patronage. Messrs. Coon, Austin
and Plumer disposed of their interest, at a handsome figure, to the Standard Oil
Company in 1878. The Galena Oil-Works, Limited, was chartered and con-
tinued the business, with Mr. Miller as president. Increasing demands necessi-
tated frequent enlargements of the works, which now occupy five acres of ground.
Every appliance that ingenuity and experience can suggest has been provided,
securing uniform grades of oil with unfailing precision.
The machinery and appurtenances are the best money and skill can supply.
The same sterling traits that distinguished the smaller firm have all along marked
the progress of the newer and larger enterprise. The standard of its products
is always strictly first-class, hence patrons are never disappointed in the quality
of any of the celebrated Galena brands of "Engine," "Coach," "Car," "Ma-
chinery," or "Lubricating " oils. Steadfast adherence to this cardinal principle
has borne its legitimate fruit. Railway-oils are manufactured exclusively. The
daily capacity is three-thousand barrels. "Galena Oils" are used on over
ninety per cent, of the railway-mileage of the United States, Canada and Mex-
ico. Such patronage has never before been gained by any one establishment
and it is the result of positive merit. The Franklin district furnishes more and
better lubricating oil than all the rest of the continent and the Galena treatment
brings it to the highest measure of perfection. Reflect for a moment upon the
enormous expansion of the Galena Works and see what earnest, faithful, in-
telligent effort and straightforward dealing may accomplish.
The first three railroads that tried the "Galena Oils" in 1869 have used
none other since. Could stronger proof of their excellence be desired ? It was
a pleasing novelty for railway-managers to find a lubricant that would neither
freeze in winter nor dissipate in summer and they made haste to profit by the
experience. The severest tests served but to place it far beyond all competition.
At twenty degrees below zero it would not congeal, while the fiercest heat of the
tropical sun affected it hardly a particle. As the natural consequence it speed-
ily superseded all others on the principal railroads of the country. The axles of
the magnificent Pullman and Wagner coaches on the leading lines have their
friction reduced to the minimum by " Galena Oil." It adds immeasurably to
the smoothness and speed of railway-travel between the Atlantic and the Pacific,
from Maine to the Isthmus, from British Columbia to Florida. Passengers de-
tained by a " hot box " and annoyed by the fumes of rancid grease frying in the
THE WORLD'S LUBRICANT. 93
trucks beneath their feet may be certain that the offending railways do not use
"Galena Oil." The "Galena" is not constructed on that plan, but stands
alone and unapproachable as the finest lubricator of the nineteenth century.
This is a record-breaking age. The world's record for fast time on a rail-
road was again captured from the English on September eleventh, 1895. The
New- York-Central train, which left New York that morning, accomplished the
trip to Buffalo at the greatest speed for a continuous journey of any train over
any railroad in the world. The distance four-hundred-and-thirty-six miles
was covered in four-hundred-and-seven minutes, a rate of sixty -four-and-one-
third miles per hour. Until that feat the English record of sixty-three-and-one-
fifth miles an hour for five-hundred miles was the fastest. In other words, the
American train of four heavy cars, hauled to Albany by engine No. 999, the
famous World's Fair locomotive, smashed the English record more than a mile
an hour, in the teeth of a stiff head-wind. Father Time, who has insisted for
many years that travelers spend at least twenty-four hours on the journey be-
tween Chicago and New York, received a fatal shock on October twenty-fourth,
1895. Two men who left Chicago at three-thirty in the morning visited five
theatres in New York that night ! A special New-York-Central train, with Vice-
President Webb and a small party of Lake-Shore officials, ran the nine-hundred-
and-eighty miles in seventeen-and-three-quarter hours, averaging sixty-five miles
an hour to Buffalo, beating all previous long-distance runs. For the first time
copies of Chicago newspapers, brought by gentlemen on the train, were seen in
New York on the day of their publication. Every axle, every journal, every
box, every wheel of both these trains, from the front of the locomotive to the
rear of the hind-coach, was lubricated with " Galena Oil."
Later a train in Scotland, keeping step with the oatmeal-and-haggis fad
that has deluged the land with Highland-dialect tales, snatched the garland by
adding a mile or more to the Central's achievement. The Scottish triumph was
very brief. " Ian McLaren," Barree and Crockett might shine in literature, but
no foreign line could be permitted to fix the record for railroad-speed. Engi-
neer Charles H. Fahl, of the Reading system, believed American railways to be
the best on earth and backed up his opinion by solid proof. During the past
summer he ran the famous flyer between Camden and Atlantic City the entire
season on time every trip. The train, scheduled to travel the fifty-six miles in
fifty-two minutes, always started at least two minutes late, owing to the ferry-
boats not connecting promptly. Yet Engineer Fahl made up this loss and
reached Atlantic City a trifle ahead of time, without missing once. The trips
averaged forty-eight minutes, or a fraction above sixty-nine miles an hour !
This was not one experimental test, but a regular run day after day the whole
season, generally^with six passenger-coaches crowded from end to end. Week
in and week out the flyer sped across the sandy plains of New Jersey, with never
a skip or a break, at the pace which placed the record of Train 25, of the Atlan-
tic-City branch of the Reading Railroad, upon the top rung of the ladder.
This performance, unequaled in railway-history at home or abroad, brought
Engineer Fahl a commendatory letter from Vice-President Theodore Voorhees.
It was rendered possible only by the exclusive use, on locomotive and coaches
alike, of the Galena Oils, which prevented the hot-journals and excessive fric-
tion that are fatal to speed-records.
The works are situated in the very heart of the heavy-oil district. Two
railroads, with a third in prospect, and a paved street front the spacious premi-
ses. The main building is of brick, covering about an acre and devoted chiefly
94 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL,
to the handling of oil for manufacture or in course of preparation, the repairing
and painting of barrels and the accommodation of the engines and machinery.
To the rear stands a substantial brick-structure, containing the steam-boilers, the
electric-light outfit and the huge agitators in which the oil is treated. Big pumps
next force the fluid into large vessels, where it is submitted to a variety of spe-
cial processes, which finally leave it ready for the consumer. A dozen iron-tanks,
each holding many thousand barrels, receive and store crude to supply the works
for months. As this is piped directly from the wells the largest orders are filled
with the utmost dispatch. Nothing is lacking that can ensure superiority. The
highest wages are paid and every employee is an American citizen or proposes
to become one. The men are regarded as rational, responsible beings, with
souls to save and bodies to nourish, and treated in accordance with the Golden
Rule. They are well-fed, well-housed, prosperous and contented. A strike, or
a demand for higher wages or shorter hours, is unknown in the history of this
model institution. Is it surprising that each year adds to its vast trade and
wonderful popularity? The unrivalled " Galena Oil-Works," of Franklin, Ve-
nango county, Pennsylvania, must be ranked among the most noteworthy rep-
resentative industries of Uncle Sam's splendid domain.
Have you a somewhat cranky wife,
Whose temper's apt to broil ?
To ease the matrimonial strife
Just lubricate when trouble's rife
Pour on Galena Oil !
Has life some rusty hinge or joint
That vexes like a boil,
And always sure to disappoint?
The hindrance to success anoint
As with Galena Oil !
Does business seem to jar and creak,
Despite long years of toil,
Till wasted strength has left you weak?
Reduce the friction, so to speak
Apply Galena Oil !
Are your affairs all run aground,
The cause of sad turmoil ?
To see again " the wheels go 'wound,"
Smooth the rough spots wherever found
Soak in Galena Oil !
The Signal Oil-Works, Franklin, manufacture Sibley's Perfection Valve-Oil
for locomotive-cylinders and Perfection Signal-Oil. More than twenty-five years
ago Joseph C. Sibley commenced experimenting with petroleum-oils for use in
steam-cylinders under high pressure. He found that where the boiler-pressure
was not in excess of sixty pounds the proper lubrication of a steam-cylinder
with petroleum was a matter of little or no difficulty. With increase in pressure
came increase in temperature. As a result the oil vaporized and passed through
the exhaust. The destruction of steam-chests and cylinders through fatty acids
incident to tallow, or tallow and lard-oils, cost millions of dollars annually ; but
it was held as a cardinal point in mechanical engineering that these were the
only proper steam-lubricants. Mr. Sibley carried on his experiments for years.
He conversed with leading superintendents-of-machinery in the United States
and with leading chemists. Almost invariably he was laughed at when assert-
ing his determination to produce a product of petroleum, free from fatty acids,
capable of better lubrication even than the tallow then in use. Many of his
THE WORLD'S LUBRICANT. 95
friends in the oil- business, who thought they understood the nature of petro-
leum, expressed the deepest sympathy with Mr. Sibley's hallucination. Amid
partial successes, interspersed with many failures, he continued the experiments.
So incredulous were chemists and superintendents-of-machinery, so fearful of
disasters to their machinery through the use of such a compound, that he had in
many instances to guarantee to assume any damages which might occur to a
locomotive through its use. He rode thousands of miles upon locomotives,
watching the use of the oil, daily doubling the distance made by engineers.
Success at last crowned his efforts and the Perfection Valve-Oil has been for
nearly twenty years the standard lubricant of valves and cylinders. To-day
there is scarcely a locomotive in the United States that does not use some prep-
aration of petroleum and the steam-chests and cylinders of more than three-
fourths of all in the United States are lubricated with Perfection Valve-Oil.
The results have been astounding. Destruction of steam-joints by fatty
acids from valve-lubricants is now an unknown thing. Not only this, but as a
lubricant the Perfection Valve-Oil has proved itself so much superior that,
where valve-seats required facing on an average once in sixty days, they do not
now require facing on an average once in two years. The steam-pressure car-
ried upon the boilers at that time rarely exceeded one-hundred-and-twenty
pounds. With the increase of pressure and the corresponding increase of tem-
perature it was found next to impossible to properly lubricate the valves and
cylinders to prevent cutting. The superintendent-of-machinery of a leading
American railway sent for Mr. Sibley at one time, told him that he proposed to
build passenger-locomotives carrying one-hundred-and-eighty pounds pressure
and asked if he would undertake to lubricate the valves and cylinders under
that pressure. The reply was : ' ' Go ahead. We will guarantee perfect lubrica-
tion to a pressure very much higher than that." And to-day the hfgher type of
passenger-locomotives carry one-hundred-and-eighty pounds pressure regularly.
When it was clearly demonstrated that the Perfection Valve-Oil was a suc-
cess, oil-men who had pronounced it impossible and had been backed in their
opinion by noted chemists commenced to make oils similar to' it in appearance.
While many of them may have much confidence in their own product, the
highest testimonial ever paid to Perfection Valve-Oil is that no competitor
claims he has its superior. Some urge their product with the assurance that it
is the equal of Perfection Valve-Oil, thus unconsciously paying the highest trib-
ute possible to the latter.
The works also make Perfection Signal-Oil for use in railway-lamps and
lanterns. Since 1869 this oil has been before the public. It is in daily use in
more than three-fourths of the railway-lanterns of the United States and it is
the proud boast of Mr. Sibley that, during that time, there has never occurred
an accident which has cost either a human limb or life or the destruction of one
penny's worth of property, through the failure of this oil to perform its work per-
fectly. Making but the two products, Valve and Signal-Oils, catering to no other
than railroad-trade, studying carefully the demands of the service, keeping in
touch with the latest developments of locomotive-engineering and thoroughly
acquainted with the properties of all petroleum in Pennsylvania, the company
may well believe that, granted the possession of equal natural abilities with
competitors, under the circumstances it is entitled to lead all others in the pro-
duction of these two grades of oils for railroad-use.
Hon. Charles Miller, president of the Galena Oil- Works, and Hon. Joseph
C. Sibley, president of the Signal Oil- Works, are brothers-in-law and proprietors
9 6
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
of the great stock-farms of Miller & Sibley. Mr. Miller is of Huguenot ancestry,
born in Alsace, France, in 1843. The family came to this country in 1854, set-
tling on a farm near Boston, Erie county, New York. At thirteen Charles clerked
one year in the village-store for thirty-five dollars and board. He clerked in
Buffalo at seventeen for one-hundred-and-seventy-five dollars, without board. In
1 86 1 he enlisted in the New- York National Guard. In 1863 he was mustered into
the United States service and married at Springville, N. Y., to Miss Ann Adelaide
Sibley, eldest child of Dr. Joseph C. Sibley. In 1864 he commenced business
for himself, in the store in which he had first clerked, with his own savings of
two-hundred dollars and a loan of two-thousand from Dr. Sibley. In 1866 he
sold the store and removed to Franklin. Forming a partnership with John
Coon of Buffalo, the firm carried on a large dry-goods house until 1869, when a
patent for lubricating oil and a refinery were purchased and the store was closed
out at heavy loss. The refinery burned down the next year, new partners were
taken in and in 1878 the business was organized in its present form as "The
Galena Oil-Works, Limited." The entire management was given Mr. Miller,
who had built up an immense trade and retained his interest in the works. He
deals directly with consumers. Since 1870 his business-trips have averaged five
days a week and fifty-thousand miles a year of travel. No man has a wider
acquaintance and more personal friends among railroad-officials. His journeys
cover the United States and Mexico. Wherever he may be, in New Orleans or
San Francisco, on .the train or in the hotel, conferring with a Vanderbilt or the
humblest manager of an obscure road, receiving huge orders or aiding a deserv-
THE WORLD'S LUBRICANT. 97
ing cause, he is always the same genial, magnetic, generous exemplar of practi-
cal belief in ''the universal fatherhood of God and the brotherhood ot man."
Major Miller is one whom money does not spoil. He is the master, not the
servant, of his wealth. He uses it to extend business, to foster enterprise, to
further philanthropy, to alleviate distress and to promote the comfort and happi-
ness of all about him. His benefactions keep pace with his increasing pros-
perity. He is ever foremost in good deeds. He gives thousands of dollars
yearly to worthy objects, to the needy, to churches, to schools, to missions and
to advance the general welfare. In 1889 he established a free night-school for
his employes and the youth of Franklin, furnishing spacious rooms with desks
and apparatus and engaging four capable teachers. This school has trained
hundreds of young men for positions as accountants, book-keepers, stenogra-
phers and clerks. The First Baptist church, which he assisted in organizing, is
the object of his special regard. He bore a large share of the cost of the brick-
edifice, the lecture-room and the parsonage. He and Mr. Sibley have donated
the massive pipe-organ, maintained the superb choir, paid a good part of the
pastor's salary, erected a branch-church and supported the only services in the
Third Ward. For twenty-five years Mr. Miller has been superintendent of the
Sabbath-school, which has grown to a membership of six-hundred. His Bible-
class of three-hundred men is equalled in the state only by John Wanamaker's,
in Philadelphia, and James McCormick's, in Harrisburg. The instruction is
scriptural, pointed and business-like, with no taint of bigotry or sectarianism.
No matter how far away Saturday may find him, the faithful teacher never misses
the class that is "the apple of his eye," if it be possible to reach home. Often
he has hired an engine to bring him through on Saturday night, in order to meet
the adult pupils of all denominations who flock to hear his words of wisdom and
encouragement. Alike in conversation, teaching and public-speaking he pos-
sesses the faculty of interesting his listeners and imparting something new. He
has raised the fallen, picked poor fellows out of the gutter, rescued the perishing
and set many wanderers in the straight path. Not a few souls, "plucked as
brands from the burning, " owe their salvation to the kindly sympathy and assist-
ance of this earnest layman. Eternity alone will reveal the incalculable benefit
of his night-school, his Bible-class, his church-work, his charity, his personal
appeals to the erring and his unselfish life to the community and the world.
" No duty could overtask him, no need his will outrun ;
Or ever our lips could ask him, his hand the work had done."
Twice Mr. Miller served as mayor of Franklin. Repeatedly has he declined
nominations to high offices, private affairs demanding his time and attention.
He is president or director of a score of commercial and industrial companies,
with factories, mines and works in eight states. He has been president time
after time of the Northwestern Association of Pennsylvania of the Grand Army
of the Republic, Ordnance-Officer and Assistant Adjutant-General of the Second
Brigade of Pennsylvania and Commander of Mays Post. He is a leading spirit
in local enterprises. He enjoys his beautiful home and the society of his wife
and children and friends. He prizes good horses, smokes good cigars and tells
good stories. In him the wage-earner and the breadwinner have a steadfast
helper, willing to lighten their burden and to better their condition. In short,
Charles Miller is a typical American, plucky, progressive, energetic and invinci-
ble, with a heart to feel, genius to plan and talent to execute the noblest designs.
Hon. Joseph Crocker Sibley, eldest son of Dr. Joseph Crocker Sibley, was
born at Friendship, N. Y,, in 1850. His father's death obliging him to give up
98 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
a college-course for which he had prepared, in 1866 he came to Franklin to clerk
in Miller & Coon's dry-goods store. From that time his business interests and
Mr. Miller's were closely allied. In 1870 he married Miss Metta E. Babcock,
daughter of Simon M. Babcock, of Friendship. He was agent of the Galena
Oil-Works at Chicago for two years, losing his effects and nearly losing his life in
the terrible fire that devastated that city. His business-success may be said to
date from 1873, when he returned to Franklin. After many experiments he
produced a signal-oil superior in light, safety and cold-test to any in use. The
Signal Oil-Works were established, with Mr. Sibley as president and the pro-
prietors of the Galena Oil-Works, whose plant manufactured the new product,
as partners. Next he compounded a valve-oil for locomotives, free from the
bad qualities of animal-oils, which is now used on three-fourths of the railway
mileage of the United States.
Every newspaper-reader in the land has heard of the remarkable Congres-
sional fight of 1892 in the Erie-Crawford district. Both counties were over-
whelmingly Republican. People learned with surprise that Hon. Joseph C.
Sibley. a resident of another district, had accepted the invitation of a host of
good citizens, by whom he was selected as the only man who could lead them
to victory over the ring, to try conclusions with the nominee of the ruling party,
who had stacks of money, the entire machine, extensive social connections,
religious associations he was a preacher and a regular majority of five-thou-
sand to bank upon. Some wiseacres shook their heads gravely and predicted
disaster. Such persons understood neither the resistless force of quickened
public sentiment nor the sterling qualities of the candidate from Venango coun-
ty. Democrats, Populists and Prohibitionists endorsed Sibley. He conducted
a campaign worthy of Henry Clay. Multitudes crowded to hear and see a man
candid enough to deliver his honest opinions with the boldness of " Old Hick-
ory." The masses knew of Mr. Sibley's courage, sagacity and success in busi-
ness, but they were unprepared to find so sturdy a defender of their rights. His
manly independence, ringing denunciations of wrong, grand simplicity and inci-
sive logic aroused unbounded enthusiasm. The tide in favor of the fearless
advocate of fair-play for the lowliest creature no earthly power could stem.
His opponent was buried out of sight and Sibley was elected by a sweeping
majority.
Mr. Sibley's course in Congress amply met the expectations of his most ar-
dent supporters. The prestige of his great victory, added to his personal mag-
netism and rare geniality, at the very outset gave him a measure of influence few
members ever attain. During the extra-session he expressed his views with
characteristic vigor. A natural leader, close student and keen observer, he did
not wait for somebody to give him the cue before putting his ideas on record.
In the silver-discussion he bore a prominent part, opposing resolutely the repeal
of the Sherman act. His wonderful speech " set the ball rolling " for those who
declined to follow the administration program. The House was electrified by
Sibley's effort. Throughout his speech of three hours he was honored with the
largest Congressional audience of the decade. Aisles, halls, galleries and cor-
ridors were densely packed. Senators came from the other end of the Capitol
to listen to the brave Pennsylvanian who dared plead for the white metal. For
many years Mr. Sibley has been a close student of political and social econom-
ics and he so grouped his facts as to command the undivided attention and the
highest respect of those who honestly differed from him in his conclusions. Sat-
ire, pathos, bright wit and pungent repartee awoke in his hearers the strongest
THE WORLD'S LUBRICANT. 99
emotions, entrancing the bimetalists and giving their enemies a cold chill, as the
stream of eloquence flowed from lips " untrained to flatter, to dissemble or to
play the hypocrite." Thenceforth the position of the representative of the
Twenty-sixth district was assured, despite the assaults of hireling journals and
discomfited worshippers of the golden calf.
He took advanced ground on the Chinese question, delivering a speech
replete with patriotism and common-sense. An American by birth, habit and
education, he prefers his own country to any other under the blue vault of
heaven. The American workman he would protect from pauper immigration
and refuse to put on the European or Asiatic level. He stands up for American
skill, American ingenuity, American labor and American wages. Tariff for
revenue he approves of, not a tariff to diminish revenue or to enrich one class at
the expense of all. The tiller of the soil, the mechanic, the coal-miner, the coke-
burner and the day-laborer have found him an outspoken champion of their
cause. Small wonder is it that good men and women of all creeds and parties
have abiding faith in Joseph C. Sibley and would fain bestow on him the highest
office in the nation's gift.
Human nature is a queer medley and sometimes manifests streaks of envy
and meanness in queer ways. Mr. Sibley's motives have been impugned, his
efforts belittled, his methods assailed and his neckties criticised by men who
could not understand his lofty character and purposes. The generous ex-Con-
gressman must plead guilty to the charge of wearing clothes that fit him, of
smoking decent cigars, of driving fine horses and of living comfortably. Of
course it would be cheaper to buy hand-me-down misfits, to indulge in loud-
smelling tobies, to walk or ride muleback, to curry his own horses and let his
wife do the washing instead of hiring competent helpers. But he goes right
ahead increasing his business, improving his farms, developing American trotters
and furnishing work at the highest wages to willing hands in his factories, at his
oil-wells, on his lands, in his barns and his hospitable home. He dispenses large
sums in charity. His benevolence and enterprise reach far beyond Pennsylvania.
He does not hoard up money to loan it at exorbitant rates. As a matter of fact,
from the hundreds of men he has helped pecuniarily he never accepted one
penny of interest. He has been mayor of Franklin, president of the Pennsyl-
vania State-Dairymen's Association, director of the American Jersey-Cattle
Club and member of the State Board of Agriculture. He is a brilliant talker,
a profound thinker, a capital story-teller and a loyal friend. " May he live long
and prosper !"
Miller & Sibley's Prospect-Hill Stock- Farm is one of the largest, best equip-
ped and most favorably known in the world. Different farms comprising the
establishment include a thousand acres of land adjacent to Franklin and a farm,
with stabling for two-hundred horses and the finest kite-track in the United
States, at Meadville. On one of these farms is the first silo built west of the
Allegheny mountains. Trotting stock, Jersey cattle, Shetland ponies and Angora
goats of the highest grades are bred. For Michael Angelo, when a calf six
weeks old, twelve-thousand-five-hundred dollars in cash were paid A. B. Dar-
ling, proprietor of the Fifth- Avenue Hotel, New York City. Animals of the best
strain were purchased, regardless of cost. In 1886 Mr. Sibley bought from
Senator Leland Stanford, of California, for ten-thousand dollars, the four-year-
old trotting-stallion St. Bel. Seventy-five thousand were offered for him a few
weeks before the famous sire of numerous prize-winners died. Cows that have
broken all records for milk and butter,and horses that have won the biggest
ioo SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
purses on the leading race-tracks of the country are the results of the liberal
policy pursued at Prospect- Hill. Charles Marvin, the prince of horsemen,
superintends the trotting department and E. H. Sibley is manager of all the
Miller & Sibley interests. Hundreds of the choicest animals are raised every
year. Prospect-Hill Farm is one of the sights of Franklin and the enterprise
represents an investment not far short of one-million dollars. Wouldn't men
like Charles Miller and Joseph C. Sibley sweep away the cobwebs, give business
an impetus and infuse new life and new ideas into any community ?
Franklin had tallied one for heavy-oil, but its resources were not exhausted.
On October seventeenth, 1859, Colonel James P. Hoover, C. M. Hoover and
Vance Stewart began to drill on the Robert-Brandon now the Hoover farm
of three-hundred acres, in Sandycreek township, on the west bank of the Alle-
gheny river, three miles south of Franklin. They found oil on December
twenty-first, the well yielding one-hundred barrels a day ! This pretty Christmas
gift was another surprise. Owing to its distance from "springs" and the two
wells Drake and Evans already producing, the stay-in-the-rut element felt
confident that the Hoover Well would not " amount to a hill of beans." It was
" piling Ossa on Pelion" for the well to produce, from the second sand, oil
with properties adapted to illumination and lubrication. The Drake was for
light, the Evans for grease and the Hoover combined the two in part. Where
and when was this variegated dissimilarity to cease ? Perhaps its latest phase is
to come shortly. Henry F. James is beginning a well south-west of town, on the
N. B. Myers tract, between a sweet and a sour spring. Savans, scientists, beer-
drinkers, tee-totalers and oil-operators are on the ragged edge of suspense,
some hoping, some fearing, some praying that James may tap a perennial fount
of creamy 'alf-and-'alf.
Once at a drilling- well on the " Point" the tools dropped suddenly. The
driller relieved the tension on his rope and let the tools down slowly. They
descended six or eight feet ! The bare thought of a crevice of such dimensions
paralyzed the knight of the temper-screw, all the more that the hole was not to
the first sand. What a lake of oil must underlie that derrick ! He drew up the
tools. They were dripping amber fluid, which had a flavor quite unlike petro-
leum. Did his nose deceive him ? It was the aroma of beer ! A lick of the
stuff confirmed the nasal diagnosis it had the taste of beer ! The alarm was
sounded and the sand-pump run down. It came up brimming over with beer !
Ten times the trip was repeated with the same result. Think of an ocean of the
delicious, foamy, appetizing German beverage ! Word was sent to the owners
of the well, who ordered the tubing to be put in. They tried to figure how
many breweries the production of their well would retire. Pumping was about
to begin, in presence of a party of impatient, thirsty spectators, when an excited
Teuton, blowing and puffing, was seen approaching at a breakneck pace.
Evidently he had something on his mind. "Gott in Himmel ! " he shrieked,
"you vas proke mit Grossman's vault ! " The mystery was quickly explained.
Philip Grossman, the brewer, had cut a tunnel a hundred feet into the hill-side
to store his liquid-stock in a cool place. The well chanced to be squarely over
this tunnel, the roof of which the tools pierced and stove in the head of a tun of
beer ! Workmen who came for a load were astonished to discover one end of
a string of tubing dangling in the tun. It dawned upon them that the drillers
three-hundred feet above must have imagined they struck a crevice and a mes-
senger speeded to the well. The saddened crowd slinked off, muttering words
that would not look nice in print. The tubing was withdrawn, the hogshead
THE WORLD'S LUBRICANT. 101
was shoved aside, the tools were again swung and two weeks later the well was
pumping thirty barrels a day of unmistakable heavy-oil.
The Hoover strike fed the flame the Evans Well had kindled. Lands in the
neighborhood were in demand on any terms the owners might impose. From
Franklin to the new well, on both sides of the Allegheny, was the favorite
choice, on a theory that a pool connected the deposits. Leases were snapped up
at one-half royalty and a cash-bonus. Additional wells on the Hoover rivaled
No. i, which produced gamely for four years. The tools were stuck in cleaning it
out and a new well beside it started at sixty barrels. The " Big-Emma Vein "
was really an artery to which for years "whoa, Emma !" did not apply. Bissell
& Co. and the Cameron Petroleum-Company secured control of the property, on
which fifteen wells were producing two-hundred barrels ten years from the ad-
vent of the Hoover & Vance. Harry Smith, a city-father, is operating on the
tract and drilling paying wells at reasonable intervals. Colonel James P. Hoover
died on February fourth, 1871, aged sixty-nine. Born in Centre county, he set-
tled in the southern part of Clarion, was appointed by Governor Porter in 1839
Prothonotary of Venango county and removed to Franklin. The people elected
him to the same office for three years and State-Senator in 1844. The Canal-
Commissioners in 1851 appointed him collector of the tolls at Hollidaysburg,
Blair county, for five years. He filled these positions efficiently, strict adherence
to principle and a high sense of duty marking his whole career. The esteem
and confidence he enjoyed all through his useful life were attested by universal
regret at his death and the largest funeral ever
witnessed in Franklin. His estimable widow sur- x^
vived Colonel Hoover twenty years, dying at the
residence of her son-in-law, Arnold Plumer, in
Minnesota. Their son, C. M. Hoover, ex-sheriff
of the county, has been interested in the street
railway. Vance Stewart, who owned a farm near ^ ~~^M --
the lower river-bridge, removed to Greenville
and preceded his wife and several children, one
of them Rev. Orlando V. Stewart, to the tomb.
Another son, James Stewart, was a prominent
member of the Erie bar.
The opening months of 1860 were decidedly
lively on the Cochran Farm, in Cranberry town-
ship, opposite the Hoover. The first well, the
Keystone, on the flats above where the station
, j j r i i B. E. SWAN.
now stands, was a second-sander of the hun-
dred-barrel class. The first oil sold for fourteen dollars a barrel, at which rate
land-owners and operators were not in danger of bankruptcy or the poor-house.
Fourteen-hundred dollars a day from a three-inch hole would have seemed too
preposterous for Munchausen before the Pennsylvania oil-regions demonstrated
that "truth is stranger than fiction. " The Monitor, Raymond, Williams, Mc-
Cutcheon and other wells kept the production at a satisfactory figure. Dale &
Morrow, Horton & Son, Hoover & Co., George R. Hobby, Cornelius Fulkerson
and George S. McCartney were early operators. B. E. Swan located on the farm
in May of 1865 and drilled numerous fair wells. He has operated there for thirty-
two years, sticking to the second-sand territory with a tenacity equal to the "per-,
severance of the saints." When thousands of producers, imitating the dog that
let go the bone to grasp the shadow in the water, quit their enduring small wells
8
102 SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
to take their chance of larger ones in costlier fields, he did not lose his head
and add another to the financial wrecks that strewed the greasian shore. Appre-
ciating his moral stamina, his steadfastness and ability, Mr. Swan's friends insist
that he shall serve the public in some important office. Walter Pennell his
father made the first car-wheels and W. P. Smith drilled several snug wells
on the uplands, Sweet & Shaffer following with six or eight. Eighteen wells are
producing on the tract, which contains one-hundred-and forty acres and has had
only two dry-holes in its thirty-six years of active developments.
Alexander Cochran, for forty years owner of the well-known farm bearing
his name, is one of the oldest citizens of Franklin. Winning his way in the world
by sheer force of character, scrupulous integrity and a fixed determination to
succeed, he is in the highest and best sense a self-made man. Working hard in
boyhood 'to secure an education, he taught school, clerked in general stores,
studied law and was twice elected Prothonotary without asking one voter for his
support. In these days of button-holing, log-rolling, wire-pulling, buying and
soliciting votes this is a record to recall with pride. Marrying Miss Mary Bole
her father removed from Lewistown to Franklin seventy-five years ago he built
the home at " Cochran Spring " that is one of the land-marks of the town and
established a large dry -goods store. As his means permitted he bought city-lots,
put up dwelling-houses and about 1852 paid
sixteen-hundred dollars for the farm in Cran-
berry township for which in 1863, after it had
yielded a fortune, he refused seven-hundred-
thousand ! The farm was in two blocks. A
neighbor expostulated with him for buying
the second piece, saying it was "foolish to
waste money that way." In 1861, when the
same neighbor wished to mortgage his land
for a loan, he naively remarked: "Well,
Aleck, I guess I was the fool, not you, in
1852." A man of broad views, Mr. Cochran
freely grants toothers the liberality of thought
he claims for himself. A hater of cant and
sham and hollow pretence, he believes less in
musty creeds than kindly deeds, more in giv-
i ,1 .1 i j
ing loaves than tracts to the hungry, and
takes no stock in religion that thinks only of dodging punishment in the next
world and fails to help humanity in this. In the dark days of low-priced oil and
depressed trade, he would accept neither interest from his debtors nor royalty
from the operators who had little wells on his farm. He never hounded the
sheriff on a hapless borrower, foreclosed a mortgage to grab a coveted property
or seized the chattels of a struggling victim to satisfy a shirt-tail note. There is
no shred of the Pecksniff, the Shylock or the Uriah-Heep in his anatomy. At
fourscore he is hale and hearty, rides on horseback, cultivates his garden,
attends to business, likes a good play and keeps up with the literature of the
day. The productive oil-farm is now owned by his daughters, Mrs. J. J. McLau-
rin, of Harrisburg, and Mrs. George R. Sheasley, of Franklin. The proudest
eulogy he could desire is Alexander Cochran's just desert : "The Poor Man's
Friend."
Down to Sandy Creek many wells were drilled from 1860 to 1865, produc-
ing fairly at an average depth of four-hundred-and-fifty to five-hundred feet.
THE WORLD'S LUBRICANT. 103
These operations included the Miller, Smith and Pope farms, on the west side
of the river, and the Rice, Nicklin, Martin and Harmon, on the east side, all
second-sand territory. North of the Cochran and the Hoover work was pushed
actively. George H. Bissell and Vance Stewart bored twelve or fifteen medium
wells on the Stewart farm of two-hundred acres, which the Cameron Petroleum
Company purchased in 1865 and Joseph Dale operated for some years. It lies
below the lower bridge, opposite the Bleakley tract, from which a light produc-
tion is still derived. Above the Stewart are the Fuller and the Chambers farms,
the latter extending to the Allegheny- Valley depot. Scores of eager operators
thronged the streets of Franklin and drilled along the Allegheny. Joseph Pow-
ley and Charles Cowgill entered the lists in the Cranberry district. Henry M.
Wilson and George Piagett veered into the township and sank a bevy of dry-
holes to vary the monotony. That was a horse on Wilson, but he got ahead of
the game by a deal that won him the nicest territory on Horse Creek. Stirling
Bonsall and Colonel Lewis they're dead now were in the thichest of the fray,
with Captain Goddard, Philip Montgomery, Boyd, Roberts, Foster, Brown,
Murphy and many more whom old-timers remember pleasantly. Thomas King,
whole-souled, genial "Tom" no squarer man e'er owned a well or handled
oil-certificates and Captain Griffith were "a good pair to draw to." King has
" crossed over," as have most of the kindred spirits that dispelled the gloom in
the sixties.
Colonel W. T. Pelton, nephew of Samuel J. Tilden, participated in the
scenes of that exciting period. He lived at Franklin and drilled wells on French
Creek. He was a royal entertainer, shrewd in business, finely educated and
polished in manner and address. He and his wife a lovely and accomplished
woman were fond of society and gained hosts of friends. They boarded at the
United-States Hotel, where Mrs. Pelton died suddenly. This affliction led Col-
onel Pelton to sell his oil-properties and abandon the oil-regions. Returning to
New York, when next he came into view as the active agent of his uncle in the
secret negotiations that grew out of the election of 1876, it was with a national
fame. His death in 1880 closed a busy, promising career.
In the spring of 1864 a young man, black-haired, dark-eyed, an Apollo in
form and strikingly handsome, arrived at Franklin and engaged rooms at Mrs.
Webber's, on Buffalo street. The stranger had money, wore good clothes and
presented a letter of introduction to Joseph H. Simonds, dealer in real-estate, oil-
wells and leases. He looked around a few days and concluded to invest in
sixty acres of the Fuller farm, Cranberry township, fronting on the Allegheny
river. The block was sliced off the north end of the farm, a short distance be-
low the upper bridge and the Valley station. Mr. Simonds consented to be a
partner in the transaction. The transfer was effected, the deed recorded and a
well started. It was situated on the hill, had twenty feet of second-sand and
pumped twenty barrels a day. The owner drilled two others on the bluff, the
three yielding twenty barrels for months. The ranks of the oil-producers had
received an addition in the person of John Wilkes Booth.
The firm prospered, each of the members speculating and trading indi-
vidually. M. J. Colman, a capital fellow, was interested with one or both in
various deals. Men generally liked Booth and women admired him immensely.
His lustrous orbs, "twin-windows of the soul," could look so sad and pensive
as to awaken the tenderest pity, or fascinate like ' ' the glittering eye ' ' of the
Ancient Mariner or the gaze of the basilisk. "Trilby" had not come to light, or
he might have enacted the hypnotic role of Svengali. His moods were va-
104
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
riable and uncertain. At times he seemed morose and petulant, tired of every-
body and "unsocial as a clam." Again he would court society, attend parties,
dance, recite and be "the life of the company." He belonged to a select circle
that exchanged visits with a coterie of young folks in Oil City. A Confederate
sympathizer and an enemy of the government, his closest intimates were staunch
Republicans and loyal citizens. William J. Wallis, the veteran actor who died
in December of 1895, in a Philadelphia theater slapped him on the mouth for
calling President Lincoln a foul name. Booth's acting, while inferior to his
brother Edwin's, evinced much dramatic power. He controlled his voice
admirably, his movements were graceful and he spoke distinctly, as Franklinites
whom he sometimes favored with a reading can testify.
One morning in April, 1865, he left Franklin, telling Mr. Simonds he was
going east for a few days. He carried a satchel, which indicated that he did not
expect his stay to be prolonged indefinitely. His wardrobe, books and papers
JOSEPH H. SIMONDS.
J. WILKES BOOTH.
MOSES J. COLMAN.
remained in his room. Nothing was heard of him until the crime of the century
stilled all hearts and the wires flashed the horrible news of Abraham Lincoln's
assassination. The excitement in Franklin, the murderer's latest home, was
intense. Crowds gathered to learn the dread particulars and discuss Booth's
conduct and utterances. Not a word or act previous to his departure pointed
to deliberate preparation for the frightful deed that plunged the nation in grief.
That he contemplated it before leaving Franklin the weight of evidence tended
to disprove. He made no attempt to sell any of his property, to convert his
lands and wells into cash, to settle his partnership accounts or to pack his
effects. He had money in the bank, wells bringing a good income and impor-
tant business pending. All these things went to show that, if not a sudden im-
pulse, the killing of Lincoln was prompted by some occurrence in Washington
that fired the passionate nature John Wilkes Booth inherited from his father.
The world is familiar with the closing chapters of the dark tragedy the assas-
sin's flight, the pursuit into Virginia, the burning barn, Sergeant Corbett's fatal
bullet, the pathetic death-scene on the Garrett porch and the last message, just
as the dawn was breaking on the glassy eyes that opened feebly for a moment :
" Tell my mother I died for my country. I did what I thought was best."
The wells and the land on the river were held by Booth's heirs until 1869,
when the tract changed hands. The farm is producing no oil and the Simonds-
THE WORLD'S LUBRICANT. 105
Booth wells have disappeared. Had he not intended to return to Franklin,
Booth would certainly have disposed of these interests and given the proceeds
to his mother. "Joe" Simonds removed to Bradford to keep books for
Whitney & Wheeler, bankers and oil-operators, and died there years ago. He
was an expert accountant, quick, accurate and neat in his work and most
fastidious in his attire. A blot on his paper, a figure not exactly formed, a line
one hair-breath crooked, a spot on his linen or a speck of dust on his coat was
simply intolerable. He was correct in language and deportment and honorable
in his dealing's. Colman continued his oil-operations, in company with W. R.
Crawford, a real-estate agency, until the eighties. He married Miss Ella Hull,
the finest vocalist Franklin ever boasted, daughter of Captain S. A. Hull, and
removed to Boston. For years paralytic trouble has confined him to his home.
He is ' ' one of nature's nobleman. ' '
"French Kate," the woman who aided Ben Hogan at Pithole and fol-
lowed him to Babylon and Parker, was a Confederate spy and supposed to be
very friendly with J. Wilkes Booth. Besides his oil-interests at Franklin, the
slayer of Abraham Lincoln owned a share in the Homestead well at Pithole.
A favorite legend tells how, by a singular coincidence, which produced a sensa-
tion, the well was burned on the evening of the President's assassination. It
caught fire about the same instant the fatal bullet was fired in Ford's Theater
and tanks of burning oil enveloped Pithole in a dense smoke when the news of
the tragedy flashed over the trembling wires. The Homestead well was not
down until Lincoln had been dead seven weeks, Pithole had no existence and
there were no blazing tanks ; otherwise the legend is correct. Two weeks
before his appalling crime Booth was one of a number of passengers on the
scow doing duty as a ferry-boat across the Allegheny, after the Franklin bridge
had burned. The day was damp and the water very cold. Some inhuman
whelp threw a fine setter into the river. The poor beast swam to the rear of
the scow and Booth pulled him on board. He caressed the dog and bitterly
denounced the fellow who could treat a dumb animal so cruelly. At another
time he knocked down a cowardly ruffian for beating a horse that was unable
to pull a heavy load out of a mud-hole. He has been known to shelter stray
kittens, to buy them milk and induce his landlady to care for them until they
could be provided with a home. Truly his was a contradictory nature. He
sympathized with horses, dogs and cats, yet robbed the nation of its illustrious
chief and plunged mankind into mourning. To newsboys Booth was always
liberal, not infrequently handing a dollar for a paper and saying : "No change ;
buy something useful with the money." The first time he went to the Metho-
dist Sunday-school, with "Joe" Simonds, he asked and answered questions
and put a ten-dollar bill in the collection-box.
Over the hills to the interior of the townships developments spread.
Bredinsburg, Milton and Tarkiln loomed up in Cranberry, where Taylor &
Torrey, S. P. McCalmont, Jacob Sheasley, B. W. Bredin and E. W. Echols
have sugar-plums. In Sandycreek, between Franklin and Foster, Angell &
Prentice brought Bully Hill and Mount Hope to the front. The biggest well
in the package was a two-hundred barreler on Mount Hope, which created a
mount of hopes that were not fully realized. George V. Forman counted out
one-hundred-and-fifty-thousand dollars for the Mount Hope corner. The terri-
tory lasted well and averaged fairly. Bully Hill merited its somewhat slangy
title. Dr. C. D. Galbraith, George R. Sheasley and Mattern & Son are among
its present operators. Angell and Prentice parted company, each to engage in
io6
SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL,
opening up t~he Butler region. Prentice, Crawford, Barbour & Co. did not let
the grass grow under their feet. They ' ' knew a good thing at sight ' ' and
pumped tens-of-thousands of barrels of oil from the country south of Franklin.
The firm was notable in the seventies. Considerable drilling was done at Polk,
where the state is providing a half-million-dollar Home for Feeble-Minded
Children, and in the latitude of Utica, with about enough oil to be an aggrava-
tion. The Shippen wells, a mile north of the county poor-house, have produced
for thirty years. West of them, on the Russell farm, the Twin wells, joined as
tightly as the derricks could be placed, pumped for years. This was the verge
of productive territory, test wells on the lands of William Sanders, William
Bean, A. Reynolds, John McKenzie, Alexander Frazier and W. Booth, clear to
Cooperstown, finding a trifle of sand and scarcely a vestige of oil. The Ray-
monds, S. Ramage, John J. Doyle and Daniel Grimm had a very tidy offshoot
at Raymilton. On this wise lubricating and second-sand oils were revealed
for the benefit of mankind generally. The fly in the ointment was the clerical
ANGELL & PRENTICE'S WELLS BELOW FRANKLIN IN 1873.
crank who wrote to President Lincoln to demand that the producing of heavy-
oil be stopped peremptorily, as it had been stored in the ground to grease the
axletree of the earth in its diurnal revolution ! This communication reminded
Lincoln of a "little story," which he fired at the fellow with such effect that the
candidate for a strait-jacket was perpetually squelched.
Hon. William Reid Crawford, a member of the firm of Prentice, Crawford,
Barbour & Co. , lives in Franklin. His parents were early settlers in north-western
Pennsylvania. Alexander Grant, his maternal grandfather, built the first stone-
house in Lancaster county, removed to Butler county and located finally in Arm-
strong county, where he died sixty-five years ago. In 1854 William R. and four
of his brothers went to California and spent some time mining gold. Upon his
return he settled on a farm in Scrubgrass township, Venango county, of which
section the Crawfords had been prominent citizens from the beginning of its his-
tory. Removing to Franklin in 1865, Mr. Crawford engaged actively in the pro-
THE WORLD'S LUBRICANT.
107
duction of petroleum, operating extensively in various portions of the oil-regions
for twenty years. He acquired a high reputation for enterprise and integrity,
was twice a city-councillor, served three terms as mayor, was long president of
the school-board, was elected sheriff in 1887 and
State-Senator in 1890. Untiring fidelity to the in-
terests of the people and uncompromising hostility
to whatever he believed detrimental to the general
welfare distinguished his public career. Genial
and kindly to all, the friend of humanity and bene-
factor of the poor, no man stands better in popular
estimation or is more deserving of confidence and
respect. His friends could not be crowded into the
Coliseum without bulging out the walls. Ebenezer
Crawford, brother of William R., died at Emlenton
in August of 1897, on his seventy-sixth birthday.
John P. Crawford, another brother, who made the
California trip in 1849, still resides in the southern
end of the county and is engaged in oil-operations.
E. G. Crawford, a nephew, twice prothonotary of
Venango and universally liked, passed away last June. His cousin, C. J.
Crawford, a first-class man anywhere and everywhere, served as register and
recorder with credit and ability. The Crawfords "are all right."
For money may come and money may go,
But a good name stays to the end of the show.
Captain John K. Barbour, a man of imposing presence and admirable quali-
ties, removed to Philadelphia after the dissolution of the firm. The Standard
Oil-Company gave him charge of the right-of-way department of its pipe-line
service and he returned to Franklin. Two years ago, during a business visit to
Ohio, he died unexpectedly, to the deep regret of the entire community. S. A.
Wheeler operated largely in the Bradford field and organized the Tuna-Valley
Bank of Whitney & Wheeler. For a dozen years he has resided at Toledo, his
early home. Like Captain Barbour, " Fred," as he was commonly called, had
an exhaustless mine of bright stories and a liberal share of the elements of pop-
ularity. One afternoon in 1875, three days before the fire that wiped out the
town, a party of us chanced to meet at St. Joe, Butler county, then the centre of
oil-developments. An itinerating artist had his car moored opposite the drug-
store. Somebody proposed to have a group-picture. The motion carried unani-
mously and a toss-up decided that L. H. Smith was to foot the bill. The pho-
tographer brought out his camera, positions were taken on the store-platform
and the pictures were mailed an hour ahead of the blaze that destroyed most of
the buildings and compelled the artist to hustle off his car on the double-quick.
Samuel R. Reed, at the extreme right, operated in the Clarion field. He had a hard-
ware-store in company with the late Dr. Durrant and his home is in Franklin.
James Orr, between whom and Reed a telegraph-pole is seen, was connected
with the Central Hotel at Petrolia and later was a broker in the Producers' Ex-
change at Bradford. On the step is Thomas McLaughlin, now oil-buyer at
Lima, once captain of a talented base-ball club at Oil City and an active oil-
broker. Back of him is "Fred" Wheeler, with Captain Barbour on his right
and L. H. Smith sitting comfortably in front. Mr. Smith figured largely at Pit-
hole, operated satisfactorily around Petrolia and removed years ago to New
York. Cast in a giant mould, he weighs three-hundred pounds and does credit
io8
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
to the illustrious legions of Smiths. He is a millionaire and has an office over
the Seaboard Bank, at the lower end of Broadway. Joseph Seep, the king-bee
of good fellows, sits besides Smith. Pratt S. Crosby, formerly a jolly broker at
Parker and Oil City, stands behind Seep. Next him is "Tom " King, who has
' ' gone to the land of the leal, " J. J. McLaurin ending the row. James Amm, who
went from an Oil-city clerkship to coin a fortune at Bradford a street bears
his name sits on the
platform. Every man,
woman, child and baby
near Oil City knew and
admired "Jamie "Amm,
who is now enjoying his
wealth in Buffalo. Two
out of the eleven in the
group have ' 'passed be-
yond the last scene ' ' and
the other nine are scat-
tered widely.
"Friend after friend departs,
Who hath not lost a friend?"
Frederic Prentice, one
of the pluckiest opera-
tors ever known in pe-
GROUP AT ST. JOE, BUTLER COUNTY, IN 1874.
troleum-annals, was the
first white child born on the site of Toledo, when Indians were the neighbors
of the pioneers of Northern Ohio. His father left a fine estate, which the
son increased greatly by extensive lumbering, in which he employed three-
thousand men. Losses in the panic of 1857 retired him from the business. He
retrieved his fortune and paid his creditors their claims in full, with ten per cent,
interest, an act indicative of his sterling character. Reading in a newspaper
about the Drake well, he decided to see for himself whether the story was fast
colors. Journeying to Venango county by way of Pittsburg, he met and engaged
William Reed to accompany him. Reed had worked at the Tarentum salt-
wells and knew a thing or two about artesian-boring. The two arrived at
Franklin on the afternoon of the day Evans's well turned the settlement topsy-
turvy. Next morning Prentice offered Evans forty-thousand dollars for a con-
trolling interest in the well, one-fourth down and the balance in thirty, sixty and
ninety days. Evans declining to sell, the Toledo visitor bought from Martin &
Epley an acre of ground on the north bank of French Creek, at the base of the
hill, and contracted with Reed to " kick down " a well, the third in the district.
Prentice and Reed tramped over the country for days, locating oil-deposits by
means of the witch-hazel, which the Tarentumite handled skillfully. This was
a forked stick, which it was claimed turned in the hands of the holder at spots
where oil existed. Various causes delayed the completion of the well, which at
last proved disappointingly small. Meanwhile Mr. Prentice leased the Neeley
farm, two miles up the Allegheny, in Cranberry township, and bored several
paying wells. A railroad station on the' tract is named after him and R. G.
Lamberton has converted the property into a first-class stock-farm. Favorable
reports from Little Kanawha River took him to West Virginia, where he leased
and purchased immense blocks of land. Among them was the Oil-Springs tract,
on the Hughes River, from which oil had been skimmed for generations. Two
THE WORLD'S LUBRICANT. 109
of his wells on the Kanawha yielded six-hundred barrels a day, which had to be
stored in ponds or lakes for want of tankage. Confederate raiders burned the
wells, oil and machinery and drove off the workmen, putting an extinguisher
on operations until the Grant-Lee episode beneath the apple-tree at Appomattox.
Assuming that the general direction of profitable developments would be
north-east and south-west, Mr. Prentice surveyed a line from Venango county
through West Virginia, Kentucky and Tennessee. This idea, really the foun-
dation of ' ' the belt theory, ' ' he spent thousands of dollars to establish. Personal
investigation and careful surveys confirmed his opinion, which was based upon
observations in the Pennsylvania fields. The line run thirty years ago touched
numerous "springs" and "surface shows" and recent tests prove its remarkable
accuracy. On this theory he drilled at Mount Hope and Foster, opening a
section that has produced several-million barrels of oil. C. D. Angell applied
the principle in Clarion and Butler counties, mapping out the probable course of
the " belt " and leasing much prolific territory'. His success led others to adopt
the same plan, developing a number of pools in four states, although nature's
lines are seldom straight and the oil-bearing strata are deposited in curves and
beds at irregular intervals.
In company with W. W. Clark of New York, to whom he had traded a
portion of his West-Virginia lands, Mr. Prentice secured a quarter-interest in the
Tarr farm, on Oil Creek, shortly before the sinking of the Phillips well, and
began shipping oil to New York. They paid three dollars apiece for barrels,
four dollars a barrel for hauling to the railroad and enormous freights to the
east. The price dropping below the cost
of freights and barrels, the firm dug acres of
pits to put tanks under ground, covering
them with planks and earth to prevent evap-
oration. Traces of these storage-vats re-
main on the east bank of Oil Creek. Crude
fell to twenty-five cents a barrel at the wells
and the outlook was discouraging. Clark
& Prentice stopped drilling and turned their
attention to finding a market. They con-
structed neat wooden packages that would
hold two cans of refined-oil, two oil-lamps
and a dozen chimneys and sent one to each
United -States Consul in Europe. Orders
soon rushed in from foreign countries,
especially Germany, France and England,
* c c . FREDERIC PRENTICE.
stimulating the erection of refineries and
creating a large export-trade. Clark & Summer, who also owned an interest in
the Tarr farm, built the Standard Refinery at Pittsburg and agreed to take from
Clark & Prentice one-hundred-thousand barrels of crude at a dollar a barrel, to
be delivered as required during the year. Before the delivery of the first twenty-
five-thousand barrels the price climbed to one-fifty and to six dollars before the
completion of the contract, which was carried out to the letter. The advance
continued to fourteen dollars a barrel, lasting only one day at this figure. These
were vivifying days in oleaginous circles, never to be repeated while Chronos
wields his trusty blade.
When crude reached two dollars Mr. Prentice bought the Washington-
McClintock farm, on which Petroleum Centre was afterwards located, for three-
TJO SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
hundred-thousand dollars. Five New-Yorkers, one of them the president of the
Shoe and Leather Bank and another the proprietor of the Brevoort House, ad-
vanced fifty-thousand dollars for the first payment. Within sixty days Prentice
sold three-quarters of his interest for nine-hundred-thousand dollars and or-
ganized the Central Petroleum Oil-Company, with a capital of five-millions I
Wishing to repay the New-York loan, the Brevoort landlord desired him to re-
tain his share of the money and invest it as he pleased. For his ten-thousand
dollars mine host received eighty-thousand in six months, a return that leaves
government-bond syndicates and Cripple-Creek speculations out in the latitude
of Nansen's north-pole. The company netted fifty-thousand dollars a month in
dividends for years and lessees cleared three or four millions from their opera-
tions on the farm. Greenbacks circulated like waste-paper, Jules Verne's fan-
cies were surpassed constantly by actual occurrences and everybody had money
to burn.
Prentice and his associates purchased many tracts along Oil Creek, including
the lands where Oil City stands and the BLood farm of five-hundred acres. In
the Butler district he drilled hundreds of wells and built the Relief Pipe-Line.
Organizing The Producers' Consolidated Land-and-Petroleum-Company, with
a capital of two-and-a-half millions, he managed it efficiently and had a promi-
nent part in the Bradford development. Boston capitalists paid in twelve-hun-
dred-thousand dollars, Prentice keeping a share in his oil-properties represent-
ing thirteen-hundred-thousand more. The company is now controlled by the
Standard, with L. B. Lockhart as superintendent. Its indefatigable founder also
organized the Boston Oil Company to operate in Kentucky and Tennessee, put
down oil-wells in Peru and gas-wells in West Virginia, produced and piped
thousands of barrels of crude daily and was a vital force in petroleum-affairs
for eighteen years. The confidence and esteem of his compatriots were attested
by his unanimous election to the presidency of the Oilmen's League, a secret-
society formed to resist the proposed encroachments of the South-Improvement
Company. The League accomplished its mission and then quietly melted out
of existence.
Since 1877 Mr. Prentice has devoted his attention chiefly to lumbering in
West Virginia and to his brown-stone quarries at Ashland, Wisconsin. The
death of his son, Frederick A., by accidental shooting, was a sad bereavement
to the aged father. His suits to get possession of the site of Duluth, the city of
Proctor Knott's impassioned eulogy, included in a huge grant of land deeded to
him by the Indians, were scarcely less famous than Mrs. Gaines's protracted liti-
gation to recover a slice of New Orleans. The claim involved the title to prop-
erty valued at twelve-millions of dollars. From his Ashland quarries the owner
took out a monolith, designed for the Columbian Exposition in 1893, forty yards
long and ten feet square at the base. Beside this monster stone Cleopatra's
Needle, disintegrating in Central Park, Pompey's Pillar and the biggest blocks
in the pyramids are Tom-Thumb pigmies. At seventy-four Mr. Prentice, fore-
most in energy and enterprise, retains much of his youthful vigor. Earnest and
sincere, a master of business, his word as good as gold, Frederic Prentice holds
an honored place in the ranks of representative oil-producers, "nobles of
nature's own creating."
A native of Chautauqua county, N, Y., where he was born in 1826, Cyrus
D. Angell received a liberal education, served as School-Commissioner and
engaged in mercantile pursuits at Forestville. x Forced through treachery and
the monetary stringency of the times to compromise with his creditors, he recov-
THE WORLD'S LUBRICANT. in
ered his financial standing and paid every cent of his indebtedness, principal
and interest. In 1867 he came to the oil-regions with a loan of one-thousand
dollars and purchased an interest in property at Petroleum Centre that paid
handsomely. Prior to this, in connection with Buffalo capitalists, he had bought
Belle Island, in the Allegheny River at Scrub-
grass, upon which soon after his arrival he
drilled three wells that averaged one-hundred
barrels each for two years, netting the owners
over two-hundred-thousand dollars. Opera-
tions below Franklin, in company with Frederic /
Prentice, also proved highly profitable. His
observations of the course of developments
along Oil Creek and the Allegheny led Mr.
Angell to the conclusion that petroleum would
be found in "belts" or regular lines. He
adopted the theory that two "belts" existed,
one running from Petroleum Centre to Scrub-
grass and the other from St. Petersburg through
Butler county. Satisfied of the correctness of
this view, he leased or purchased all the lands
... . 1111 i f _i < ( i 1^.,, CYRUS D. ANGELL.
within the probable boundaries of the belt
from Foster to Belle Island, a distance of six miles. The result justified his
expectations, ninety per cent, of the wells yielding abundantly. With "the belt
theory," which he followed up with equal success farther south, Mr. Angell's
name is linked indissolubly. His researches enriched him and were of vast ben-
efit to the producers generally. He did much to extend the Butler region, drill-
ing far ahead of tested territory. The town of Angelica owed its creation to his
fortunate operations in the neighborhood, conducted on a comprehensive scale.
Reverses could not crush his manly spirit. He did a large real-estate business
at Bradford for some years, opening an office at Pittsburg when the Washington
field began to loom up. Failing health compelling him to seek relief in foreign
travel, last year he went to Mexico and Europe to recuperate. Mr. Angell
is endowed with boundless energy, fine intellectual powers and rare social ac-
quirements. During his career in Oildom he was an excellent sample of the
courageous, unconquerable men who have made petroleum the commercial
wonder of the world.
An old couple in Cranberry township, who eked out a scanty living on a
rocky farm near the river, sold their land for sixty-thousand dollars at the high-
est pitch of the oil-excitement around Foster. This was more money than the
pair had ever before seen, much less expected to handle and own. It was paid
in bank-notes at noon and the log-house was to be vacated next day. Towards
evening the poor old woman burst into tears and insisted that her husband
should give back the money to the man that " wanted to rob them of their
home." She was inconsolable, declaring they would be "turned out to starve,
without a roof to cover them." The idea that sixty-thousand dollars would
buy an ideal home brought no comfort to the simple-minded creature, whose
hopes and ambitions were confined to the lowly abode that had sheltered her
for a half-century. A promise to settle near her brother in Ohio reconciled her
somewhat, but it almost broke her faithful heart to leave a spot endeared by
many tender associations. John Howard Payne, himself a homeless wanderer,
112
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
whose song has been sung in every tongue and echoed in every soul, jingled by
innumerable hand-organs and played by the masters of music, was right :
" Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home."
The refusal of his wife to sign the deed conveying the property enabled a
wealthy Franklinite to gather a heap of money. The tract was rough and un-
productive and the owner proposed to accept for it the small sum offered by a
neighboring farmer, who wanted more pasture for his cattle. For the first time
in her life the wife declined to sign a paper at her husband's request, saying she
had a notion the farm would be valuable some day. The purchaser refused to
take it subject to a dower and the land lay idle. At length oil-developments
indicated that the " belt " ran through the farm. Scores of wells yielded freely,
netting the land-owner a fortune and convincing him that womanly intuition is a
sure winner.
A citizen of Franklin, noted for his conscientiousness and liberality, was in-
terested in a test-well at the beginning of the Scrubgrass development. He
vowed to set aside one-fourth of his portion of the output of the well "for the
Lord," as he expressed it. To the delight of the owners, who thought the ven-
ture hazardous, the well showed for a hundred barrels when the tubing was put
in. On his way back from the scene the Franklin gentleman did a little figur-
ing, which proved that the Lord's percentage of the oil might foot up fifty dollars
a day. This was a good deal of money for religious purposes. The maker of
the vow reflected that the Lord could get along without so much cash and he
decided to clip the one-fourth down to one-tenth, arguing that the latter was the
scripture limit. Talking it over with his wife, she advised him to stick to his
original determination and not trifle with the Lord. The husband took his own
way, as husbands are prone to do, and revisited the well next day. Something
had gone wrong with the working-valve, the tubing had to be drawn out and the
well never pumped a barrel
of oil ! The disappointed
^fjjj^i^. operator concluded, as he
charged two thousand dol-
l^^'gfe l ars to his profit-and-loss
account, that it was not the
Lord who came out at the
small end of the horn in
the transaction.
Rev. Clarence A. Ad-
ams, the eloquent ex-pas-
tor of the First Baptist
Church at Franklin, is the
lucky owner of a patch of
paying territory at Raymilton. Recently he finished a well which pumped con-
siderable salt-water with the oil. Contrary to Cavendish and the ordinary cus-
tom, another operator drilled very close to the boundary of trie Adams lease
and torpedoed the well heavily. Instead of sucking the oil from the preacher's
nice pumper, the new well took away most of the salt-water and doubled the
production of petroleum ! Commonly it would seem rather mean to rob a Bap-
tist minister of water, but in this case Dr. Adams is perfectly resigned to the loss
of aqueous fluid and gain of dollar-fifty crude. A profound student of Shake-
speare, Browning and the Bible, a brilliant lecturer and master of pulpit-oratory,
may he also stand on a lofty rung of the greasian ladder and attain the goodly
REV. C. A. ADAMS, D.D.
REV. EZRA F. CRANE, D.D.
THE WORLD'S LUBRICANT. 113
age of Franklin's "grand old man," Rev. Dr. Crane. This "father in Israel,"
whose death in February of 1896 the whole community mourned, left a record
of devoted service as a physician and clergyman for over sixty years that has
seldom been equaled. He healed the sick, smoothed the pillow of the dying,
relieved the distressed, reclaimed the erring,
comforted the bereaved, turned the faces of
the straying Zionward and found the passage
to the tomb "a gentle wafting to immortal
life." Let his memory be kept green.
" Though old, he still retained
His manly sense and energy of mind.
Virtuous and wise he was, but not severe,
For he remembered that he once was young ;
His kindly presence checked no decent joy.
Him e'en the dissolute admired. Can he be dead
Whose spiritual influence is upon his kind? "
The late Thomas McDonough, a loyal-
hearted son of the Emerald Isle, was also an
energetic operator in the lubricating region.
He had an abundance of rollicking wit, "the
pupil of the soul's clear eye," and an unfail-
... . .^ . . THOMAS M'DONOUGH.
ing supply of the drollest stories. Desiring
to lease a farm in Sandy-Creek township, supposed to be squarely "on the belt,"
he started at daybreak to interview the owner, feeling sure his mission would
succeed. An unexpected sight presented itself through the open door, as the
visitor stepped upon the porch of the dwelling. The farmer's wife was setting
the table for breakfast and Frederic Prentice was folding a paper carefully.
McDonough realized in a twinkling that Prentice had secured the lease and his
trip was fruitless. ' ' I am looking for John Smith ' ' he stammered, as the farmer
invited him to enter, and beat a hasty retreat. For years his friends rallied the
Colonel on his search and would ask with becoming solemnity whether he had
discovered John Smith. The last time we met in Philadelphia this incident was
revived and the query repeated jocularly. The jovial McDonough died in 1894.
It is safe to assume that he will easily find numerous John Smiths in the land of
perpetual reunion. One day he told a story in an office on Thirteenth street,
Franklin, which tickled the hearers immensely. A full-fledged African, who
had been sweeping the back-room, broke into a tumultuous laugh. At that
moment a small boy was riding a donkey directly in front of the premises.
The jackass heard the peculiar laugh and elevated his capacious ears more
fully to take in the complete'volume of sound. He must have thought the mel-
ody familiar and believed he had stumbled upon a relative. Despite the frantic
exertions of the boy, the donkey rushed towards the building whence the bois-
terous guffaw proceeded, shoved his head inside the door and launched a ter-
rific bray. The bystanders were convulsed at this evidence of mistaken
identity, which the jolly story-teller frequently rehearsed for the delectation of
his hosts of friends.
Looking over the Milton diggings one July day, Col. McDonough met an
amateur-operator who was superintending the removal of a wooden-tank from
a position beside his first and only well. A discussion started regarding the
combustibility of the thick sediment collected on the bottom of the tank. The
amateur maintained the stuff would not burn and McDonough laughingly re-
plied, "Well, just try it and see !" The fellow lighted a match and applied it to
ii 4 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
the viscid mass before McDonough could interfere, saying with a grin that he
proposed to wait patiently for the result. He didn't have to wait " until Orcus
would freeze over and the boys play shinny on the ice." In the ninetieth frac-
tion of a second the deposit blazed with intense enthusiasm, quickly enveloping
the well-rig and the surroundings in flames. Clouds of smoke filled the air,
suggesting fancies of Pittsburg or Sheol. Charred fragments of the derrick,
engine-house and tank, with an acre of blackened territory over which the burn-
ing sediment had spread, demonstrated that the amateur's idea had been de-
cidedly at fault. The experiment convinced him as searchingly as a Roentgen
ray that McDonough had the right side of the argument. "If the 'b. s.' had
been as green as the blamed fool, it wouldn't have burned," was the Colonel's
appropriate comment.
Miss Lizzie Raymond, daughter of the pioneer who founded Raymilton
and erected the first grist-mill at Utica, has long taught the infant-class of the
Presbyterian Sunday-school at Franklin. Once the lesson was about the wise
and the foolish virgins, the good teacher explaining the subject in a style
adapted to the juvenile mind. A cute little tot, impressed by the sad plight of
the virgins who had no oil in their lamps, innocently inquired^: " Miss 'Ay-
mond, tan't oo tell 'em dirls to turn to our house an' my papa '11 div' 'em oil
fum his wells? " Heaven bless the children that come as sunbeams to lighten
our pathway, to teach us lessons of unselfishness and prevent the rough world
from turning our hearts as hard as the mill-stone.
Judge Trunkey, who presided over the Venango court a dozen years and
was then elected to the Supreme Bench, was hearing a case of desertion. An
Oil-City lawyer, proud of his glossy black beard, represented the forsaken wife,
a comely young woman from Petroleum Centre, who dandled a bright baby of
twenty months on her knee. Mother and baby formed a pretty picture and the
lawyer took full advantage of it in his closing appeal to the jury. At a brilliant
climax he turned to his client and said : " Let me have the child !" He was
raising it to his arms, to hold before the men in the box and describe the hein-
ous meanness of the wretch who could leave such beauty and innocence to
starve. The baby spoiled the fun by springing up, clutching the attorney's
beard and screaming: "Oh, papa!" The audience fairly shrieked. Judge
Trunkey laughed until the tears flowed and it was five minutes before order
could be restored. That ended the oratory and the jury salted the defendant
handsomely. Hon. James S. Connelly, an Associate Judge, who now resides in
Philadelphia and enjoys his well-earned fortune, was also on the bench at the
moment. Judge Trunkey, one of the purest, noblest men and greatest jurists
that ever shed lustre upon Pennsylvania, passed to his reward six years ago.
In your wide peregrinations from the poles to the equator,
Should you hear some ignoramus let out of his incubator
Say the heavy-oil of Franklin is not earth's best lubricator,
Do as did renown'd Tom Corwin, the great Buckeye legislator,
When a jabberwock in Congress sought to brand him as a traitor,
Just "deny the allegation and defy the allegator! "
KEEPING STEP.
The Shasta was Karns City's first well.
Missouri has two wells producing oil.
North Dakota has traces of natural-gas.
Ninety wells in Japan pump four-hundred barrels.
Elk City, in the Clarion field, once had two-
thousand population.
The Rob Roy well, at Karns City, has produced
a quarter-million barrels of oil.
Alaska-oil is cousin of asphalt-pitch, very heavy,
and thick as New-Orleans molasses in midwinter.
Wade Hampton, postmaster of Pittsburg, and
cousin of Governor Wade Hampton, organized
one of the first petroleum companies in the United
States.
General Herman Haupt, of Philadelphia, now
eighty-one years old, surveyed the route and con-
structed the first pipe-line across Pennsylvania.
Robert Nevin, founder of the Pittsburg Times,
drilled a dry-hole four-hundred feet, ten miles west
of Greensburg, in 1858, a year before Drake's suc-
cessful experiment in Oil Creek.
The Powell Oil-Company, superintended by Col.
A. C. Ferris, still a resident of New York, paid
fifty-thousand dollars in cash for the Shirk farm,
half way between Franklin and Oil City, drilled a
dry-hole and abandoned the property.
The gentle wife who seeks your faults to cover-
You don't deserve ; prize naught on earth above her ;
Keep step and be through life her faithful lover.
The new town of Guffey, the liveliest in Colorado,
thirty miles from Cripple Creek, is fitly named in
honor of James M. Guffey, the successful Penn-
sylvania oil-producer and political leader, who has
big mining interests in that section.
The Fonner pool, Greene county, was the oil-
sensation of 1897 in Pennsylvania. The Fonner
well, struck in March, and territory around it sold
for two-hundred-thousand dollars. Elk Fork wore
the West-Virginia belt, Peru took the Hoosier
biscuit and Lucas county the Buckeye premium.
Say, boys, seein' how fast th' ranks iz thinnin'
Th' way thar droppin' out sets my head spinnin'
An' knownin' ez how death may take an innin'
An' clean knock out our underpinnin'.
I kalkilate we oughter swar off sinnin',
Jes" quit fer keeps our dog-gon' chinnin,'
Start in th' narrer road fer a beginnin,'
An' so strike oil in Heav'n fer a sure winnin'
When up the golden-stairs we goes a-shinnin'.
When the biggest well in Indiana flowed oil fifty
feet above the derrick, at Van Buren, a local paper
noted the effect thus: "The strike has given the
town a tremendous boom. Several real-estate
offices have opened and the town-council has
raised the license for faro-banks from five dollars
a year to twelve dollars." At this rate Van Buren
ought soon to be in the van.
ORIGINAL DW. KENNEDYS ALL E MAGOOZ E LU M-CITY WELL
VII.
THE VALLEY OF PETROLEUM.
WONDERFUL SCENES ON OIL CREEK MUD AND GREASE GALORE RISE AND FALL
OF PHENOMENAL TOWNS SHAFFER, PIONEER AND PETROLEUM CENTRE-
FORTUNE'S QUEER VAGARIES WELLS FLOWING THOUSANDS OF BARRELS-
SHERMAN, DELAMATER AND " COAL-OIL JOHNNIE" FROM PENURY TO RICHES
AND BACK RECITALS THAT DISCOUNT FAIRY-TALES.
" I pity the man who can travel from Dan to Beersheba and cry, ' 'Tis all barren.' " Sterne.
" This beginning part is not made out of anybody's head ; it's real." Dickens.
" Some ships come into port that are not steered." Seneca.
" God has placed in his great bank mother earth untold wealth and manv a poor man's check
has been honored here for large amounts of oil." T. S. Scoville, A. D. 1861.
" Ain't that well spittin' oil ? " Small Boy , A. D. 1863.
" Wonderful, most wonderful, marvelous, most marvelous, are the stories told of the oil-region.
It is another California." John IV. Forney, A. D. 1863.
" Derricks peered up behind the houses of Oil City, like dismounted steeples, and oil was pump-
ing in the back-yards." London Post, A. D. 1865.
" From this place and from this day henceforth commences a new era." Goethe.
" The chandelier drives off with its splendor the darkness of night." Henry Stanton.
" The onlookers were struck dumb with astonishment." Charles Kingsley.
" Either I will find a way or make one." Norman Proverb.
" I bid you look into the past as if it were a mirror." Terence.
ORTY-THREE farms of manifold shapes
and sizes lay along the stream from
the Drake well to the mouth of Oil
Creek, sixteen miles southward. For
sixty years the occupants of these
tracts had forced a bare subsistence
from the reluctant soil. " Content to
live, to propagate and die," their re-
quirements and their resources were
alike scanty. They knew nothing of
the artificial necessities and extrava-
gances of fashionable life. To most
of them the great, busy, plodding
world was a sealed book, which they
had neither the means nor the inclina-
tion to unclasp. The world recipro-
cated by wagging in its customary
groove, blissfully unconscious of the
scattered settlers on the banks of the Allegheny's tributary. A trip on a raft to
Pittsburg, with the privilege of walking back, was the limit of their journeyings
from the hills and rocks of Venango. Hunting, fishing and hauling saw-logs in
winter aided in replenishing the domestic larder. None imagined the unpro-
ductive valley would become the cradle of an industry before which cotton and
117
u8 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
coal and iron must ' ' hide their diminished heads. ' ' No prophet had proclaimed
that lands on Oil Creek would sell for more than corner-lots in London or New
York. Who could have conceived that these bold cliffs and patches of clearing
would enlist ambitious mortals from every quarter of the globe in a mad race
to secure a foothold on the coveted acres ? What seventh son of a seventh son
could foresee that a thousand dollars spent on the Willard farm would yield
innumerable millions ? Who could predict that a tiny stream of greenish fluid,
pumped from a hole on an island too insignificant to have a name, would swell
into the vast ocean of petroleum that is the miracle of the nineteenth century?
Fortune has played many pranks, but the queerest of them all were the vagaries
incidental to the petroleum-development on Oil Creek.
The Bissell, Griffin, Conley, two Stackpole, Pott, Shreve, two Fleming,
Henderson and Jones farms, comprising the four miles between the Drake well
and the Miller tract, were not especially prolific. Traces of a hundred oil-pits,
in some of which oak-trees had grown to enormous size, are visible on the
Bissell plot of eighty acres. A large dam, used for pond-freshets, was located
on Oliver Stackpole's farm. Two refineries of small capacity were built on the
Stackpole and Fletcher lands, where eighteen or twenty wells produced moder-
ately. The owner of a flowing well on the lower Fleming farm, imitating the
man who killed the goose that laid the golden eggs, sought to increase its out-
put by putting the tubing and seed-bagging farther down. The well resented
the interference, refusing to yield another drop and pointing the obvious moral :
"Let well enough alone!" The Miller farm of four-hundred acres, on both
sides of the creek, was purchased in 1863 from Robert Miller by the Indian
Rock-Oil Company of New York. Now a railroad- station and formerly the
principal shipping-point for oil, refineries were started, wells were drilled and
the stirring town of Meredith blossomed for a little space. The Lincoln well
turned out sixty barrels a day, the Boston fifty, the Bobtail forty, the Hemlock
thirty and others from ten to twenty-five, at an average depth of six-hundred
feet. The Barnsdall Oil-Company operated on the Miller and the Shreve farms,
drilling extensively on Hemlock Run, and George Bartlett ran the Sunshine
Oil-Works. The village, the refineries and the derricks have disappeared as
completely as Herculaneum or Sir John Franklin.
George Shaffer owned fifty acres below the Miller farm, divided by Oil
Creek into two blocks, one in Cherrytree township and the other in Alle-
gheny. Twenty-four wells, eight of them failures, were put down on the flats
and the abrupt hill bordering the eastern shore of the stream. Samuel Dow-
ner's Rangoon and three of Watson & Brewer's were the largest, ranking in the
fifty-barrel list. In July of 1864 the Oil-Creek Railroad was finished to Shaffer
farm, which immediately became a station of great importance. From one
house and barn the place expanded in sixty days to a town of three-thousand
population. And such a town ! Sixteen-hundred teams, mainly employed to
draw oil from the wells down the creek, supported the stables, boarding-houses
and hotels that sprang up in a night. Every second door opened into a bar-
room. The buildings were "balloon frames," constructed entirely of boards,
erected in a few hours and liable to collapse on the slightest pretext. Houses
of cards would be about as comfortable and substantial. Outdo Hezekiah, by
rolling back time's dial thirty-one years, and in fancy join the crowd headed for
Shaffer six months after the advent of the railway.
Start from Corry, "the city of stumps," with the Downer refinery and a jum-
ble of houses thrown around the fields. Here the Atlantic & Great-Western,
THE VALLEY OF PETROLEUM. 119
the Philadelphia & Erie and the Oil-Creek Railroads meet. The station will
not shelter one-half the motley assemblage bound for Oildom. " Mother Gary-
is plucking her geese" and snow-flakes are dropping thickly. Speculators from
the eastern cities, westerners in quest of " a good thing," men going to work
at the wells, capitalists and farmers, adventurers and drummers clamor for
tickets. It is the reverse of " an Adamless Eden," for only three women are to
be seen. At last the train backs to the rickety depot and a wild struggle com-
mences. Scrambling for the elevated cars in New York or Chicago is a feeble
movement compared with this frantic onslaught. Courtesy and chivalry are
forgotten in the rush. Men swarm upon the steps, clog the platforms, pack the
baggage-car, thrust the women aside, stick to the cowcatcher and clamber on
the roofs of the coaches. Over the roughest track on earth, which winds and
twists and skirts the creek most of the way, the train rattles and jolts and
pitches. The conductor's job is no sinecure, as he squeezes through the dense
mass that leaves him without sufficient elbow-room to "punch in the presence
of the passenjare." Derricks tall, gaunt skeletons, pickets of the advancing
army keep solemn watch here and there, the number increasing as Titus ville
comes in sight.
A hundred people get off and two -hundred manage somehow to get on.
Past the Drake well, past a forest of derricks, past steep cliffs and tortuous
ravines the engineer speeds the train. Did you ever think what a weight of
responsibility rests upon the brave fellow in the locomotive-cab, whose clear
eye looks straight along the track and whose steady hand grasps the throttle?
Should he relax his vigilance or lose his nerve one moment, scores of lives
might be the fearful penalty. A short stop at Miller Farm, a whiff of refinery-
smells and in five minutes Shaffer is reached. The board-station is on the right
hand, landings on the left form a semi-circle hundreds of feet in length, freight-
cars jam the double track and warehouses dot the bank. The flat about thirty
rods wide contains the mushroom-town, bristling with the undiluted essence of
petroleum-activity. Three-hundred teamsters are unloading barrels of oil from
wagons dragged by patient, abused horses and mules through miles of greasy,
clayey mud. Everything reeks with oil. It pervades the air, saturates clothes
and conversation, floats on the muddy scum and fills lungs and nostrils with its
peculiar odor. One cannot step a yard without sinking knee-deep in deceptive
mire that performs the office of a boot-jack if given "a ghost of a show."
Christian's Slough of Despond wasn't a circumstance to this adhesive paste,
which engulfs unwary travelers to their trouser-pockets and begets a dreadful
craving for roads not
Wholly unclassable,
Almost impassable,
Scarcely jackassable."
The trip of thirty-five miles has shaken breakfast clear down to the pil-
grims' boots. Out of the cars the hungry passengers tumble as frantically as
they had clambered in and break for the hotels and restaurants. A dollar pays
for a dinner more nearly first-class in price than in quality. The narrow hall
leading to the dining-room is crammed with men Person's Hotel fed four-hun-
dred a day waiting their turn for vacant chairs at the tables. Bolting the meal
hurriedly, the next inquiry is how to get down the creek. There are no coupes,
no prancing steeds, no stages, no carriages for hire. The hoarse voice of a
hackman would be sweeter music than Beethoven's "Moonlight Sonata ''or
Mendelssohn's "Wedding March." Horseback-riding is impracticable and
120
SKETCHES IX CRUDE-OIL.
walking seems the only alternative. To wade and flounder twelve miles Oil
City is that far off is the dreary prospect that freezes the blood. Hark ! In
strident tones a fierce-looking fellow is shouting : " Packet-boat for Oil City !
This way for the packet-boat! Packet-boat! Packet-boat!" Visions of a
pleasant jaunt in a snug cabin lure you to the landing. The "packet-boat"
proves to be an oily scow, without sail, engine, awning or chair, which horses
have drawn up the stream from Oil City. It will float back at the rate of three
miles an hour and the fare is three-fifty ! The name and picture of " Pomeroy's
Express," the best of these nondescript Oil-Creek vessels, will bring a smile
and warm the cockles of many an old-timer's heart !
" POMEROY'S EXPRESS" BETWEEN SHAFFER AND OIL CITY.
Perhaps you decide to stay all night at Shaffer and start on foot early in
the morning. A chair in a room thick with tobacco-smoke, or a quilt in a
corner of the bar, is the best you can expect. By rare luck you may happen
to pre-empt a half-interest in a small bed, tucked with two or three more in a
closet-like apartment. Your room-mates talk of " flowing wells five-hundred-
thousand dollars third sand big strike rich in a week thousand-dollars a
day," until you fall asleep to dream of wells spouting seas of mud and hapless
wights wading in greenbacks to their waists. Awaking cold and unrefreshed,
your brain fuddled and your thoughts confused, you gulp a breakfast of " ham
'n eggs 'n fried potatoes 'n coffee " and prepare to strike out boldly. Encased
in rubber-boots that reach above the thighs, you choose one of the two paths
each worse than the other pray for sustaining grace and begin the toilsome
journey. Having seen the tips of the elephant's ears, you mean to see the end
of his tail and be able to estimate the bulk of the animal. Night is closing in
as you round up at your destination, exhausted and mud-coated to the chin.
But you have traversed a region that has no duplicate ''in heaven above, or
in the earth beneath, or in the waters under the earth," and feel recompensed a
THE VALLEY OF PETROLEUM. 121
thousand-fold for the fatigue and exposure. Were your years to exceed
Thomas Parr's and Methuselah's combined, you will never again behold such
a scene as the Oil-Creek valley presented in the days of "the middle passage '
between Shaffer and Oil City. Rake it over with a fine-comb, turn on the
X-rays, dig and scrape and root and to-day you couldn't find a particle of
Shaffer as big as a toothpick ! When the railroad was extended the buildings
were torn down and carted to the next station.
Widow Sanney's hundred-acre farm, south of the Shaffer, had three refin
eries and a score of unremunerative wells. David Gregg's two-hundred acres
on the west side of Oil Creek, followed suit with forty non-paying wells, three
that yielded oil and the Victoria and Continental refineries. The McCoy well,
the first put down below the Drake, at two-hundred feet averaged fifteen
barrels a day from March until July, 1860. Fire burning the rig, the well was
drilled to five-hundred feet and proved dry. R. P. Beatty sold his two-hundred
acres on Oil Creek and Hemlock Run to the Clinton Oil-Company of New
York" a bunch of medium wells repaying the investment. James Farrell, a
teamster, for two-hundred dollars purchased a thirty-acre bit of rough land
south of Beatty, on the east side of Oil Creek and Bull Run, the extreme
south-west corner of Allegheny now Oil Creek township. In the spring of
1860 Orange Noble leased sixteen acres for six hundred dollars and one-quarter
royalty. Jerking a ' ' spring-pole ' ' five months sank a hole one-hundred-and-
thirty feet, without a symptom of greasiness, and the well was neglected nearly
three years. The "third sand" having been found on the creek, the holders
of the Farrell lease decided to drill the old hole deeper. George B. Delamater
and L. L. Lamb were associated with Noble in the venture. They contracted
with Samuel S. Fertig, of Titusville, whose energy and reliability had gained
the good-will of operators, to drill about five-hundred feet. Fertig went to
work in April of 1863, using a ten-horse boiler and engine and agreeing to take
one-sixteenth of the working-interest as part payment. He had lots of the
push that long since placed him in the van as a successful producer, enjoying
a well-earned competence. Early in May, at
four-hundred-and-fifty feet, a ' ' crevice ' ' of
unusual size was encountered. Fearing to
lose his tools, the contractor shut down for
consultation with the well-owners. Noble
was at Pittsburg on a hunt for tubing, which
he ordered from Philadelphia. The well
stood idle two weeks, waiting for the tubing,
surface-water vainly trying to fill the hole.
On the afternoon of May twenty-seventh,
1863, everything was ready. "Start her
slowly," Noble shouted from the derrick to
Fertig, who stood beside the engine and
turned on the steam. The rods moved up
and down with steady stroke, bringing a
stream of fresh water, which it was hoped
a day's pumping might exhaust. Then it
would be known whether two of the owners Noble and Delamater had
acted wisely on May fifteenth in rejecting one-hundred-thousand dollars for
one-half of the well. Noble went to an eating-house near by for a lunch. He
was munching a sandwich when a boy at the door bawled: "Golly! Ain't
122 SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
that well spittin' oil?" Turning around, he saw a column of oil and water
rising a hundred feet, enveloping the trees and the derrick in dense spray !
The gas roared, the ground fairly shook and the workmen hastened to extin-
guish the fire beneath the boiler. The " Noble well," destined to be the most
profitable ever known, had begun its dazzling career at the dizzy figure of
three-thousand barrels a day !
Crude was four dollars a barrel, rose to six, to ten, to thirteen ! Compute
the receipts from the Noble well at these quotations twelve-thousand, eighteen-
thousand, thirty-thousand, thirty-nine-thousand dollars a day ! Sinbad's fabled
Valley of Diamonds was a ten-cent side-show in comparison with the actual
realities of the valley of Oil Creek.
Soon the foaming volume filled the hollow close to the well and ran into
the creek. What was to be done? In the forcible jargon of a driller : " The
divil wuz to pay an' no pitch hot!" For two-hundred dollars three men
crawled through the blinding shower and contrived to attach a stop-cock device
to the pipe. By sunset a seven-hundred-barrel tank was overflowing. Boat-
men down the creek, notified to come at once for all they wanted at two dollars
a barrel, by midnight took the oil directly from the well. Next morning the
stream was turned into a three-thousand-barrel tank, filling it in twenty-one
hours ! Sixty-two-thousand barrels were shipped and fifteen-thousand tanked,
exclusive of leakage and waste, in thirty days. Week after week the flow
continued, declining to six-hundred barrels a day in eighteen months. The
superintendent of the Noble & Delamater Oil Company organized in 1864
with a million capital in February of 1865 recommended pulling out the tubing
and cleaning the well. Learning of this intention, Noble and Delamater
unloaded their stock at or above par. The tubing was drawn, the well
pumped fifteen barrels in two days, came to a full stop and was abandoned as
a dry-hole !
The production of this marvelous gusher over seven-hundred-thousand
barrels netted upwards of four-million dollars ! One-fourth of this lordly sum
went to the children of James Farrell he did not live to see his land developed
James, John, Nelson and their sister, now Mrs. William B. Sterrett, of Titus-
ville. Noble and Delamater owned one-half the working-interest, less the six-
teenth assigned to S. S. Fertig, who bought another sixteenth from John Farrell
while drilling the well and sold both to William H. Abbott for twenty-seven-
thousand dollars. Ten persons L. L. Lamb, Solomon and W. H. Noble, Rev.
L. Reed, James and L. H. Hall, Charles and Thomas Delamater, G. T. Church-
hill and Rollin Thompson held almost one-quarter. Even this fractional claim
gave each a splendid income. The total outlay for the lease and well not quite
four-thousand dollars was repaid one-thousand times in twenty months ! Is it
surprising that men plunged into speculations which completely eclipsed the
South-Sea Bubble and Law's Mississippi-Scheme? Is it any wonder that multi-
tudes were eager to stake their last dollar, their health, their lives, their very
souls on the chance of such winnings?
Thirteen wells were drilled on the Farrell strip. The Craft had yielded a
hundred-thousand barrels and was doing two-hundred a day when the seed-bag
burst, flooding the well with water and driving the oil away. The Mulligan
and the Commercial did their share towards making the territory the finest
property in Oildom, with third sand on the flats and in the ravine of Bull Run
forty feet thick. Not a fragment of tanks or derricks is left to indicate that
twenty fortunes were acquired on the desolate spof, once the scene of tremen-
THE I' ALLEY OF PETROLEUM.
123
dous activity, more coveted than Naboth's vineyard or Jason's Golden Fleece.
On the Caldvvell farm of two-hundred acres, south of the Farrell, twenty-five
or thirty wells yielded largely. The Caldwell, finished in March of 1863, at the
north-west corner of the tract, flowed twelve-hundred barrels a day for six
weeks. Evidently deriving its supply from the same pool, the Noble well cut
this down to four-hundred barrels. A demand for one-fourth the output of the
Noble, enforced by a threat to pull the tubing and destroy the two, was settled
by paying one-hundred-and-forty-five-thousand dollars for the Caldwell well
and an acre of ground. "Growing smaller by degrees and beautifully less,"
within a month of the transfer the Caldwell quit forever, drained as dry as the
bones in Ezekiel's vision !
Hon. Orange Noble, the son of a New- York farmer, dealt in sheep and
cattle, married in 1841 and in 1852 removed to Randolph, Crawford county, Pa.
He farmed, manufactured "shooks" and in 1855 opened a store at Townville
in partnership with George B. Delamater. The partners and L. L. Lamb
inspected the Drake well in October of 1859, secured leases on the Stackpole
and Jones farms and drilled two dry-holes. Other wells on different farms in
1860-1 resulted similarly, but the Noble compensated richly for these failures.
The firm wound up the establishment at Townville in 1863, squared petroleum-
accounts, and in 1864 Mr. Noble located at Erie. There he organized banks,
erected massive blocks, served as mayor three terms, built the first grain
elevator and contributed greatly to the prosperity of the city. Blessed with
ample wealth the Noble well paid him eight-hundred-thousand dollars a vig-
orous constitution and the regard of his fellows, he has lived to a ripe age to
enjoy the fruits of his patient industry and remarkable success.
Hon. George B. Delamater, whose parents settled in Crawford county in
1822, studied law and was admitted to the Meadville bar in 1847. He published
a newspaper at Youngsville, Warren county, two years and in 1852 started in
business at Townville. Clients were not plentiful in the quiet village, where a
lawsuit was a luxury, and the young attorney found boring juries much less
remunerative than he afterwards found boring
oil-wells. Returning to Meadville in 1864, with
seven-hundred-thousand dollars and some
real-estate at his command, he built the mag-
nificent Delamater Block, opened a bank, pro-
moted many important enterprises and en-
gaged actively in politics. Selected to oppose
George K. Anderson he, too, had a bar'l
for the State Senate in 1869, Delamater carried
off the prize. It was a case of Greek meeting-
Greek. Money flowed like water, Anderson
spending thirty-thousand dollars and his
opponent twenty-eight-thousand on the pri-
maries alone! This was the beginning of
the depletion of the Delamater fortune and
the political demoralization that scandalized
Crawford county for years. Mr. Delamater
served one term, declined to run again and Anderson succeeded him. His
son, George W., a young lawyer of ability and superior address, entered the
lists and was elected Mayor of Meadville and State -Senator. He married an
accomplished lady, occupied a brick-mansion, operated at Petrolia, practiced
GEORGE W. DELAMATER.
124 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
law and assisted in running the bank. Samuel B. Dick headed a faction that
opposed the Delamaters bitterly. Nominated for Governor of Pennsylvania in
1890, George W. Delamater was defeated by Robert E. Pattison. He con-
ducted an aggressive campaign, visiting every section of the state and winning
friends by his frank courtesy and manly bearing. Ruined by politics, unable
longer to stand the drain that had been sapping its resources, the Delamater
Bank suspended two weeks after the gubernatorial election. The brick-block^
the homes of the parents and the sons, the assets of the concern mere drops
in the bucket met a trifling percentage of the liabilities. Property was sacri-
ficed, suits were entered and dismissed, savings of depositors were swept away
and the failure entailed a host of serious losses. The senior Delamater went
to Ohio to start life anew at seventy-one. George W. located in Chicago and
quickly gathered a law-practice. That he will regain wealth and honor, pay off
every creditor and some day represent his district in Congress those who know
him best are not unwilling to believe. The fall of the Delamater family the
beggary of the aged father the crushing of the son's honorable ambition the
exile from home and friends the suffering of innocent victims all these illus-
trate the sad reverses which, in the oil-region, have "come, not single spies,
but in battalions."
James Bonner, son of an Ohio clergyman and book-keeper for Noble &
Delamater, lodged in the firm's new office beside the well. Seized with typhoid
fever, his recovery was hopeless. The office caught fire, young Bonner's
father carried him to the window, a board was placed to slide him down and
he expired in a few moments. His father, overcome by smoke, was rescued
with difficulty ; his mother escaped by jumping from the second story.
James Foster owned sixty acres on the west side of Oil Creek, opposite the
Farrell and Caldwell tracts. The upper half, extending over the hill to Pioneer
Run, he sold to the Irwin Petroleum Company of Philadelphia, whose Irwin
well pumped two-hundred barrels a day. The Porter well, finished in May of
1864, flowed all summer, gradually declining from two-hundred barrels to
seventy and finally pumping twenty. Other wells and a refinery paid good
dividends. J. W. Sherman, of Cleveland, leased the lower end of the farm and
bounced the "spring-pole" in the winter of 1861-2. His wife's money and
his own played out before the second sand was penetrated. It was impossible
to drill deeper "by hand-power." A horse or an engine must be had to work
the tools. "Pete," a white, angular equine, was procured for one-sixteenth
interest in the well. The task becoming too heavy for " Pete," another six-
teenth was traded to William Avery and J. E. Steele for a small engine and
boiler. Lack of means to buy coal an expensive article, sold only for "spot
cash" caused a week's delay. The owners of the well could not muster
"long green" to pay for one ton of fuel ! For another sixteenth a purchaser
grudgingly surrendered eighty dollars and a shot-gun ! The last dollar had
been expended when, on March sixteenth, 1862 just in season to celebrate St.
Patrick's day the tools punctured the third sand. A "crevice" was hit, the
tools were drawn out and in five minutes everything swam in oil. The Sherman
well was flowing two-thousand barrels a day ! Borrowing the phrase of the
parrot stripped of his feathers and blown five-hundred feet by a powder-explo-
sion, people might well exclaim : " This beats the Old Scratch !"
To provide tankage was the first concern. Teams were dispatched for
lumber and carpenters hurried to the scene. Near the well a mudhole, between
two stumps, could not be avoided. In this one of the wagons stuck fast and
THE VALLEY OF PETROLEUM.
125
had to be pried out, John A. Mather chanced to come along with his photo-
graph apparatus. The men posed an instant, the horses "looked pleasant,"
the wagon didn't stir and he secured the artistic picture reproduced here thirty-
five years after. It is an interesting souvenir of former times times that
deserve the best work of pen and pencil, camera and brush, " to hold them in
everlasting remembrance."
STUCK IN A ML'DHOLE NEAR THE SHERMAN WELL IN 1862.
The Sherman well "whooped it up" bravely, averaging nine-hundred
barrels daily for two years and ceasing to spout in February of 1864. Pumping
restored it to seventy-five barrels, which dwindled to six or eight in 1867, when
fire consumed the rig and the veteran was abandoned. The product sold at
prices ranging from fifty cents to thirteen dollars a barrel, the total aggregating
seventeen-hundred-thousand dollars ! How was that for a return ?' It meant
one-hundred-thousand dollars for the man who traded "Pete," one-hundred-
thousand for the man who invested eighty dollars and a rusty gun, one-hundred-
thousand for the two men who furnished the second-hand engine, and a million
deducting the royalty for the man who had neither cash nor credit for a
load of coal !
None of the other fifty or sixty wells on the Foster farm, some of them
Sherman's, was particularly noteworthy. The broad flat, the sluggish stream
and the bluffs across the creek remain as in days of yore, but the wells, the
shanties, the tanks, the machinery and the workmen have vanished. Sherman,
long hale and hearty, struck a spouter in Kentucky, operated two or three years
at Bradford and took up his abode at Warren. It was a treat to hear his vivid
descriptions of life on Oil Creek in the infancy of developments life crowded
with transformations far surpassing the fantastic changes of "A Midsummer
Night's Dream." He died at Cleveland last year.
Among the teamsters who hauled oil from the Sherman well in its prime
was "Con" O'Donnell, a fun-loving, impulsive Irishman. He saved his
126 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
earnings, secured leases for himself, owned a bevy of wells at Kane City and
operated in the Clarion field. Marrying a young lady of Ellicottville, N. Y.,
his early home, he lived some years at Foxburg and St. Petersburg. He was
the rarest of practical jokers and universally esteemed. Softening of the brain
afflicted him for years, death at last stilling as warm and kindly a heart as ever
throbbed in a manly breast. ' ' Con ' ' often regaled me with his droll witticisms
as we rode or drove through the Clarion district. " Peace to his ashes."
Late in the fall of 1859, ''when th' frost wuz on th' punkin' an' th' bloom
wuz on th' rye, ' ' David McElhenny sold the upper and lower McElhenny farms
one-hundred-and-eighty acres at the south-east corner of Cherrytree township
to Captain A. B. Funk, for fifteen-hundred dollars and one-fourth of the oil.
Joining the Foster farm on the north, Oil Creek bounded the upper tract on
the east and south and Pioneer Run gurgled through the western side. Oil
Creek flowed through the northern and western sides of the lower half, which
had the Espy farm on the east, the Boyd south and the Benninghoff north and
west. McElhenny 's faith in petroleum was of the mustard-seed order and he
jumped at Hussey & McBride's offer of twenty-thousand dollars for the royalty.
Captain Funk he obtained the title from running steamboats lumbering on the
Youghiogheny river in February of 1860 commenced the first well on the
lower McElhenny farm. All spring and summer the "spring-pole" bobbed
serenely, punching the hole two-hundred-and-sixty feet, with no suspicion of
oil in the first and second sands. The Captain, believing it a rank failure,
would gladly have exchanged the hole "for a yellow dog." His son, A. P.
Funk, bought a small locomotive-boiler and an engine and resumed work
during the winter. Early in May, 1861, at four-hundred feet, a "pebble rock"
the "third sand " tested the temper of the center-bit. Hope, the stuff that
"springs eternal in the human breast," took a fresh hold. It languished as the
tools bored thirty, forty, fifty feet into the "pebble" and not a drop of oil
appeared. Then something happened. Flecks of foam bubbled to the top of
the conductor, jets of water rushed out, oil and water succeeded and a huge
pillar of pure oil soared fifty yards ! The Fountain well had tapped a fountain
in the rock ordained thenceforth to furnish mankind with Pennsylvania petro-
leum. The first well put down to ' ' the third sand, ' ' and really the first on Oil
Creek that flowed from any sand, it revealed oil-possibilities before unknown
and unsuspected.
More tangible than the mythical Fountain of Youth, the Fountain well
tallied three-hundred barrels a day for fifteen months. The flow ended as
suddenly as it began. Paraffine clogged and strangled it to death, sealing the
pores and pipes effectually. A young man ' ' taught the young idea how to
shoot" at Steam Mills, east of Titusville, where Captain Funk had lumber-
mills. A visit to the Drake and Barnsdall wells, in December of 1859, deter-
mined the schoolmaster to have an oil-well of his own. Funk liked the
earnest, manly youth and leased him five acres of the upper McElhenny farm.
Plenty of brains, a brave heart, robust health, willing hands and thirty dollars
constituted his capital. Securing two partners, " kicking down " started in the
spring of 1860. Not a sign of oil could be detected at two-hundred feet, and
the partners departed from the field. Summer and the teacher's humble
savings were gone. He earned more money by drilling on the Allegheny
river, four miles above Oil City. While thus engaged the Fountain well revolu-
tionized the business by " flowing " from a lower rock. The ex-wielder of the
birch he had resigned the ferrule for the " spring-pole " hastened to sink the
THE VALLEY OF PETROLEUM. 127
deserted well to the depth of Funk's eye-opener. The second three-hundred-
barrel gusher from the third sand, it rivaled the Fountain and arrived in time
to help 1861 crimson the glorious Fourth !
Hon. John Fertig, of Titusville, the plucky schoolmaster of 1859-60, has
been largely identified with oil ever since his initiation on the McElhenny lease.
The Fertig well, in which David Beatty and Michael Gorman were his partners
originally, realized him a fortune. Born in Yenango county, on a farm below
Gas City, in 1837, he completed a course at Neilltown Academy and taught
school several terms. Soon after embarking in the production of oil he formed
a partnership with the late John \V. Hammond, which lasted until dissolved by
death twenty years later. Fertig & Hammond operated in different sections
with great success, carried on a refinery and established a bank at Foxburg.
Mr. Fertig was Mayor of Titusville three terms, School-Controller, State Sen-
ator and Democratic candidate for Lieutenant-Governor in 1878. He has been
vice-president of the Commercial Bank from its organization in 1882 and is
president of the Titusville Iron-Works. Head of the National Oil-Company, he
was also chief officer of the Union Oil-Company, an association of refining
companies. For three years its treasurer 1892-5 he tided the United-States
Pipe-Line Company over a financial crisis in 1893. As a pioneer producer
one of the few survivors connected with developments for a generation a
refiner and shipper, banker, manufacturer and business-man, John Fertig is
most distinctively a representative of the oil-country. From first to last he
has been admirably prudent and aggressive, conservative and enterprising in
shaping a career with much to cherish and little to regret.
Frederick Crocker drilled a notable well on the McElhenny, near the
Foster line, jigging the "spring-pole" in 1861 and piercing the sand at one-
hundred- and-fifty feet. He pumped the well incessantly two months, getting
clear water for his pains. Neighbors jeered, asked if he proposed to empty
128 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
the interior of the planet into the creek and advised him to import a Baptist
colony. Crocker pegged away, remembering that " he laughs best who laughs
last." One morning the water wore a tinge of green. The color deepened,
the gas "cut loose," and a stream of oil shot upwards! The Crocker well
spurted for weeks at a thousand-barrel clip and was sold for sixty-five-thousand
dollars. Shutting in the flow, to prevent waste, wrought serious injury. The
well disliked the treatment, the gas sought a vent elsewhere, pumping coaxed
back the yield temporarily to fifty barrels and in the fall it yielded up the ghost.
Bennett & Hatch spent the summer of 1861 drilling on a lease adjoining the
Fountain, striking the third sand at the same depth. On September eighteenth
the well burst forth with thirty-three-hundred barrels per day ! This was
" confusion worse confounded," foreigners not wanting "the nasty stuff" and
Americans not yet aware of its real value. The addition of three-thousand
barrels a day to the supply with big additions from other wells knocked
prices to twenty cents, to fifteen, to ten ! All the coopers in Oildom could not
make barrels as fast as the Empire well appropriate name could fill them.
Bradley & Son, of Cleveland, bought a month's output for five-hundred dollars,
loading one-hundred-thousand barrels into boats under their contract! The
despairing owners, suffering from "an embarrassment of riches," tried to cork
up the pesky thing, but the well was likeXantippe, the scolding wife of Socrates,
and would not be choked off. They built a dam around it, but the oil wouldn't
be dammed that way. It just gorged the pond, ran over the embankment and
greased Oil Creek as no stream was ever greased before ! Twenty-two-hundred
barrels was the daily average in November and twelve-hundred in March.
The torrent played April-fool by stopping without notice, seven months from
its inception. Cleaning out and pumping restored it to six-hundred barrels,
which dropped two-thirds and stopped again in 1863. An " air blower" revived
it briefly, but its vitality had fled and in another year the grand Empire
breathed its last.
These wells boomed the territory immensely. Derricks and engine-houses
studded the McElhenny farms, which operators hustled to perforate as full of
holes as a strainer. To haul machinery from the nearest railroad doubled its
cost. Pumping five to twenty barrels a day, when adjacent wells flowed more
hundreds spontaneously, lost its charm and most of the small fry were aban-
doned. Everybody wanted to get close to the third-sand spouters, although
the market was glutted and crude ruinously cheap. A town Funkville arose
on the northern end of the upper farm, sputtered a year or two, then "folded
its tent like the Arabs and silently stole away." A search with a microscope
would fail to unearth an atom of Funkville or the wells that created it. Fresh
strikes in 1862 kept the fever raging. Davis & Wheelock's rattler daily poured
out fifteen-hundred barrels. The Densmore triplets, bunched on a two-acre
lease, were good for six-hundred, four-hundred and five-hundred respectively.
The Olmstead, American, Canfield, Aikens, Burtis and two Hibbard wells, of
the vintage of 1863, rated from two-hundred to five-hundred each. A band of
less account thirty to one-hundred barrels assisted in holding the daily
product of the McElhenny farms, from the spring of 1862 to the end of 1863,
considerably above six-thousand barrels. The mockery of fate was accen-
tuated by a dry-hole six rods from the Sherman and dozens of poor wells in the
bosom of the big fellows. Disposing of his timber-lands and saw-mills in 1863,
Captain Funk built a mansion and removed to Titusville. Early in 1864 he sold
his wells and oil-properties and died on August second, leaving an estate of
THE I'ALLEY OF PETROLEUM.
129
two-millions. He built schools and churches, dispensed freely to the needy
and was honest to the core. Pleased with the work of a clerk, he deeded him
an interest in the last well he ever drilled, which the lucky young man sold for
one-hundred-thousand dollars.
Almost simultaneously with the Empire, in September of i86i,the Buckeye
well, on the George P. Espy farm, east of lower McElhenney, set off at a
thousand-barrel jog. It was located on a strip of level ground too narrow for
tanks, which had to be erected two-hundred feet up the hill. The pressure of
gas sufficed to force the oil into these tanks for a year. The production fell to
eighty barrels and then, tiring of a climbing job that smacked of Sisyphus and
the rolling stone, took a permanent rest. From this famous well J. T. Briggs,
manager of the Briggs and the Gillettee Oil-Companies, shipped to Europe in
PIONKEK AS IT LOOKED IN 1804-5.
1862 the first cargo of petroleum ever sent across the Atlantic. The Buckeye
Belle stood about hip-high to its consort, a dozen other wells on the Epsy pro-
duced mildly and Northrup Brothers operated a refinery.
Vare vos dose oil-wells now? Gone vhare dogs can't bow-wow."
Improved methods of handling and new uses for the product advanced
crude to five dollars in the spring of 1864. Operations encroached upon the
higher lands, exploding the notion that paying territory was confined to flats
bordering the streams. Pioneer Run, an affluent of Oil Creek, bisecting the
western end of the upper McElhenney and Foster farms, panned out flatter-
ingly. Substantial wells, yielding fifteen barrels to three-hundred lined the
ravine thickly. The town of Pioneer attracted the usual throngs. David
Emery and Lewis Emery, Frank W. Andrews and not a few leading operators
resided there for a time. The Morgan House, a rude frame of one story,
dished up meals at which to eat beef-hash was to beefashionable. Clark &
McGowen had a feed-store, offices and warehouses abounded, tanks and der-
ricks mixed in the mass and boats loaded oil for refineries down the creek or
the Allegheny river. The characteristic oil-town has faded from sight, only the
weather-beaten railroad-station and a forlorn iron-tank staying. John Rhodes,
i 3 o SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
the last resident, was killed in February of 1892 by a train. He lived alone in
a small house beside the track, which he was crossing when the engine hit him,
the noisy waters in the culvert drowning the sound of the cars. Rhodes hauled
oil in the old days to Erie and Titusville, became a producer, met with reverses,
attended to some wells for a company, worked a bit of garden and felt inde-
pendent and happy.
Matthew Taylor, a Cleveland saloonist, whom the sequel showed to be no
saloonatic, took a four-hundred-dollar flyer at Pioneer, on his first visit to
Oildom. A well on the next lease elevated values and Taylor returned home
in two weeks with twenty-thousand dollars, which subsequent deals quad-
rupled. A Titusville laborer "a broth of a b'y wan year frum Oireland "-
who stuck fifty dollars into an out-of-the-way Pioneer lot, sold his claim in a
month for five-thousand. He bought a farm, sent across the water for his
colleen and "they lived happily ever after." The driver of a contractor's
team, assigned an interest in a drilling-well for his wages, cleaned up thirty-
thousand dollars by the transaction and went to Minnesota. Could the mel-
lowest melodrama unfold sweeter melodies ?
" The jingle of gold is earth's richest music."
Although surrounded by farms unrivaled as oil-territory and sold to
Woods & Wright of New York at a fancy price, James Boyd's seventy-five
acres in Cornplanter township, south of the lower McElhenny, dodged the
petroleum-artery. The sands were there, but so barren of oil that nine-tenths
of the forty wells did not pay one-tenth their cost. The Boyd farm was for
months the terminus of the railroad from Corry. Hotels and refineries were
built and the place had a short existence, a brief interval separating its lying-
in and its laying-out.
G. W. McClintock, in February of 1864, sold his two-hundred-acre farm,
on the west side of Oil Creek, midway between Titusville and Oil City, to the
Central Petroleum Company of New York, organized by Frederic Prentice and
George H. Bissell. This notable farm embraced the site of Petroleum Centre
and Wild-Cat Hollow, a circular ravine three-fourths of a mile long, in which
two-hundred paying wells were drilled. Brown, Catlin & Co.'s medium well,
finished in August of 1861, was the first on the McClintock tract. The com-
pany bored a multitude of wells and granted leases only to actual operators, for
one-half royalty and a large bonus. For ten one-acre leases one-hundred-
thousand dollars cash and one-half the oil, offered by a New- York firm in 1865,
were refused. The McClintock well, drilled in 1862, figured in the thousand-
barrel class. The Coldwater, Meyer, Clark, Anderson, Fox, Swamp-Angel and
Bluff wells made splendid records. Altogether the Central Petroleum-Company
and the corps of lessees harvested at least five-millions of dollars from the
McClintock farm !
Aladdin's lamp was a miserly glim in the light of fortunes accruing from
petroleum. The product of a flowing- well in a year would buy a tract of gold-
territory in California or Australia larger than the oil-producing regions. Mil-
lions of dollars changed hands every week. The Central Company staked off
a half-dozen streets and leased building-lots at exorbitant figures. Board-
dwellings, offices, hotels, saloons and wells mingled promiscuously. It mattered
nothing that discomfort was the rule. Poor fare, worse beds and the worst
liquors were tolerated by the hordes of people who flocked to the land of der-
ricks. Edward Fox, a railroad contractor who "struck the town " with eighty-
thousand dollars, felicitously baptised the bantling Petroleum Centre. The
THE VALLEY OF PETROLEUM. 131
owners of the ground opposed a borough-organization and the town traveled
at a headlong go-as-you-please. Sharpers and prostitutes flourished, with no
fear of human or divine law, in the metropolis of rum and debauchery. Dance-
houses, beside which "Billy" McGlory's Armory-Hall and "The." Allen's Ma-
bille in New York were Sunday-school models, nightly counted their revelers
by hundreds. In one of these dens Gus Reil, the proprietor, killed poor young
Tait, of Rouseville. Fast women and faster men caroused and gambled, cursed
-PETROLEUM CENTRE
and smoked, "burning the candle at both ends" in pursuit of pleasure!
Frequently the orgies eclipsed Monte Carlo minus some of the glitter and
the Latin Quartier combined. Some readers may recall the night two "dead
game sports " tossed dice twelve hours for one-thousand dollars a throw ! But
there was a rich leaven of first-class fellows. Kindred spirits, like "Sam"
Woods, Frank Ripley, Edward Fox and Col. Brady were not hard to discover.
Spades were trumps long years ago for Woods, who has taken his last trick
1 3 2 SKETCHES 7/V CRUDE-OIL.
.and sleeps in an Ohio grave. Ripley is in Duluth, Fox is "out west" and
Brady is in Harrisburg. Captain Ray and A. D. Cotton had a bank that
handled barrels of money. For two or three years " The Centre " called that
for convenient brevity acted as a sort of safety-valve to blow off the surplus
wickedness of the oil-regions. Then "the handwriting on the wall" mani-
fested itself. Clarion and Butler speedily reduced the four-thousand population
to a mere remnant. The local paper died, houses were removed and the giddy
Centre became ' ' a back number. ' ' The sounds of revelry were hushed, flickering
lights no longer glared over painted harlots and the streets were deserted.
Bissell's empty bank-building, three dwellings, the public school, two vacant
churches and the drygoods box used as a railway-stationscarcely enough to
cast a shadow are the sole survivors in the ploughed field that was once bus-
tling, blooming, surging, foaming Petroleum Centre !
Across the creek from Petroleum Centre, on the east side of the stream,
was Alexander Davidson's farm of thirty-eight acres. A portion of this trian-
gular "speck on the map " consisted of a mud-flat, a smaller portion of rising
ground and the remainder set edgewise. Dr. A. G. Egbert, a young physician
who had recently hung out his shingle at Cherrytree village, in 1860 negotiated
for the farm. Davidson died and a hitch in the title delayed the deal. Finally
Mrs. Davidson agreed to sign the deed for twenty-six-hundred dollars and one-
.twelfth the oil. Charles Hyde paid the doctor this amount in 1862 for one-half
his purchase and it was termed the Hyde & Egbert farm. The Hollister
well, drilled in 1861, the first on the land, flowed strongly. Owing to the
dearness and scarcity of barrels, the oil was let run into the creek and the well
was never tested. The lessees could not afford, as their contract demanded, to
barrel the half due the land-owners, because crude was selling at twenty-five
cents and barrels at three-fifty to four dollars ! A company of Jerseyites, in the
spring of 1863, drilled the Jersey well, on the south end of the property. The
Jersey it was a Jersey Lily flowed three-hundred barrels a day for nine
-months, another well draining it early in 1864. The Maple-Shade, which cast
the majority into the shade by its performance, touched the right spot in the
third sand on August fifth, 1863. Starting at one-thousand barrels, it averaged
eight-hundred for ten months, dropped to fifty the second year and held on
until 1869. Fire on March second, 1864, burned the rig and twenty-eight tanks
of oil, but the well kept flowing just the same, netting the owners a clear profit
of fifteen-hundred-thousand dollars ! "Do you notice it?" A plump million-
and-a-half from a corner of the "measly patch " poor Davidson offered in 1860
for one-thousand dollars ! And the Maple Shade was only one of twenty-three
flowing wells on the despised thirty-eight acres !
Companies and individuals tugged and strained to get even the smallest
lease Hyde & Egbert would grant. The Keystone, Gettysburg, Kepler,
Eagle, Benton, Olive Branch, Laurel Hill, Bird and Potts wells, not to mention
.a score of minor note, helped maintain a production that paid the holders of
the royalty eight-thousand dollars a day in 1864-5 ! E. B. Grandin and William
C. Hyde, partners of Charles Hyde in a store at Hydetown, A. C. Kepler and
Titus Ridgway obtained a lease of one acre on the west side of the lot, north
of the wells already down, subject to three-quarters royalty. A bit of romance
-attaches to the transaction. Kepler dreamed that an Indian menaced him
Avith bow and arrow. A young lady, considered somewhat coquettish, handed
him a rifle and he fired at the dusky foe. The redskin vamoosed and a stream
of oil burst forth. Visiting his brother, who superintended the farm, he recog-
THE VALLEY OF PETROLEUM. 133
nized the scene of his dream. The lease was secured, on the biggest royalty
ever offered. Kepler chose the location and bored the Coquette well. The
dream was a nightmare ? Wait and see.
Drilling began in the spring of 1864 and the work went merrily on. Each
partner would be entitled to one-sixteenth of the oil. Hyde & Ridgway sold
their interest for ten-thousand dollars a few days before the tools reached the
sand. This interest Dr. M. C. Egbert, brother of the original purchaser of the
farm, next bought at a large advance. He had acquired one-sixth of the
property in fee and wished to own the Coquette. Grandin and Kepler declined
to sell. The well was finished and did not flow ! Tubed and pumped a week,
gas checked its working and the sucker-rods were pulled. Immediately the
oil streamed high in the air ! Twelve-hundred barrels a day was the gauge at
first, settling to steady business for a year at eight-hundred. A double row of
tanks lined the bank, connected by pipes to load boats in bulk. Oil was " on
the jump" and the first cargo of ten-thousand barrels brought ninety-thousand
dollars, representing ten days' production ! Three months later Grandin and
Kepler sold their one-eighth for one-hundred-and-forty-five thousand dollars,
quitting the Coquette with eighty-thousand apiece in their pockets. Kepler
was a dreamer whom Joseph might be proud to accept as a chum.
Dr. M. C. Egbert retained his share. Riches showered upon him. His
interests in the land and wells yielded him thousands of dollars a day. Once
his safe contained, by tight squeezing, eighteen-hundred-thousand dollars in
currency and a pile of government bonds ! He built a comfortable house and
lived on the farm. He and his family traveled
over Europe, met shoals of titled folks and
saw all the sights. In company with John
Brown, subsequently manager of a big cor-
poration at Bradford and now a resident of
Chicago, he engaged in oil-shipments on an
extensive scale. To control this branch of
the trade, as the Standard Oil-Company has
since done by combinations of capital, was
too gigantic a task for the firm and failure
resulted. The brainy, courageous doctor
went to California, returned to Oildom and
operated in McKean county. He has secured
a foothold in the newer fields and lives in
Pittsburg, frank and urbane as in the palm-
iest days of the Hyde & Egbert farm. If
Dame Fortune was strangely capricious on
Oil Creek, the pluck of the men with whom "the fickle jade" played whirli-
gig was surely admirable.
Probably no parcel of ground in America of equal size ever yielded a
larger return, in proportion to the expenditure, than the Hyde & Egbert tract.
Six weeks' production of the Coquette or Maple Shade would drill all the wells
on the property. Charles Hyde and Dr. A. G. Egbert cleared at least three-
million dollars, the latter selling one-twelfth of the Coquette alone for a quarter-
million cash. Profits of others interested in the land and of the lessees trebled
this alluring sum. The aggregate eight to ten millions in silver- dollars would
load a freight-train or build a column twenty miles high ! Fused into a lump
of gold, a dozen mules might well decline the task of drawing it a mile. Done
134 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL,
up into a bundle of five-dollar bills, Hercules couldn't budge the bulky package.
A "promoter" of the Mulberry-Sellers brand wanted an owner of the farm,
when the wells were at their best, to launch the whole thing into a stock-com-
pany with five-millions capital. ''Bah!" responded the gentleman, "five
millions did you say five-millions? Don't waste your breath talking until
you can come around with twenty-five millions !"
A native of New- York, born in 1822, Charles Hyde was fifteen when the
family settled on a farm two miles south of Titusville, now occupied by the
Octave Oil-Company. At twenty he engaged with his father and two brothers,
W. C. and E. B. Hyde, in merchandising, lumbering and the manufacture of
salts from ashes. In 1846 he assumed charge of the lumber-mills John Titus
sold the firm, originating the thrifty village of Hydetown, four miles above
Titusville. The Hydes frequently procured oil from the "springs" on Oil
Creek, selling it for medicine as early as 1840-1. From their Hydetown store
Colonel Drake obtained some tools and supplies Titusville could not furnish.
Samuel Grandin, of Tidioute, in the spring of 1860 induced Charles Hyde to
buy a tenth-interest in the Tidioute and Warren Oil-Company for one-thousand
dollars. The company's first well, of which he heard on his way to Pittsburg
with a raft, laid the foundation of Hyde's great fortune in petroleum. He
organized the Hydetown Oil-Company, which leased the McClintock farm,
below Rouseville, from Jonathan Watson and drilled a two-hundred-barrel well
in the summer of 1860. Mr. Hyde operated on the Clapp farm, south of
McClintock, and at different points on Oil Creek and the Allegheny River. His
gains from the Hyde & Egbert farm approximated two-millions. Starting the
Second National Bank of Titusville in 1865, he has always been its president
and chief stockholder. In 1869 he removed to Plainfield, New Jersey, culti-
vating four-hundred acres of suburban land and maintaining an elegant home.
Dr. Albert G. Egbert, born in Mercer county in 1828, belonged to a family
of eminent physicians, his grandfather, father, two uncles, three brothers and
one son practicing medicine. Predicating a future for oil upon the Drake well,
his good judgment displayed itself promptly. Agreeing to purchase the Davi-
son farm, which his modest income at Cherrytree would not enable him to pay
for, his sale of a half-interest to Charles Hyde provided the money to meet the
entire claim. After the wonderful success of that investment the doctor located
at Franklin. He carried on oil-operations, farming and coal-mining and was
always active in advancing the general welfare. Elected to Congress against
immense odds, he served his district most capably, attending sedulously to his
official duties and doing admirable work on committees. In public and private
life he was enterprising and liberal, zealous for the right and a helpful citizen.
True to his convictions and professions, he never turned his back to friend or
foe. To the steady, masterful purpose of men like Dr. Egbert the oil-industry
owes its rapid strides and commanding position as a commercial staple. His
demise on March twenty-eighth, 1896, severs another of the links that bind the
eventful past and the important present of petroleum. Early operators on Oil
Creek are reduced to a handful of men whose heads are white with the snows
no July sun can melt.
" He has walk'd the way of nature;
The setting sun, and music at the close,
As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last."
The rich pickings around Petroleum Center set many on the straight cinder-
path to prosperity. The four Phillips brothers Isaac N., Charles M., John I.
THE VALLEY OF PETROLEUM.
and Thomas M. came from Newcastle to coin
money operating a farm south of the Espy. Prolific
wells on the Niagara tract, Cherry tree Run, back
of the Benninghoff farm, added to their wealth.
They cut a wide swath in all the Pennsylvania fields.
Three of the brothers have ''ascended to the hill
of frankincense and to the mountain of myrrh."
Thomas M. was a millionaire congressman. Dur-
ing the heated debates on free-silver, in 1894, he
scored the hit of the season by suggesting to con-
vert each barrel of Petroleum into legal-tender for a dollar and let it go at that.
Crude was selling at sixty cents, which gave the Phillips proposition a point
"sharper than a serpent's tooth" or a Demosthenean philippic. Dr. Egbert
offered Isaac Phillips an interest in the Davidson farm in 1862. The offer
was not accepted instantly, Phillips saying he would " consider it a few days."
Two weeks later he was ready to close the deal, but the plum had fallen into
the lap of Charles Hyde and diverted prospective millions into another channel.
George K. Anderson figured conspicuously in this latitude, his receipts for
two years exceeding five-thousand dollars a day ! He built a sumptuous resi-
dence at Titusville, sought political preferment and served a term in the State
Senate. Holding a vast block of Pacific-Railroad stock, he was the bosom
friend of the directors and trusted lieutenant of William H. Kemble, the Phila-
delphia magnate whose ''addition, division and silence" gave him notoriety.
He bought thousands of acres of land, plunged deeply into stocks and insured
his life for three-hundred-and-fifteen-thousand dollars, at that time the largest
risk in the country. If he sneezed or coughed the agents of the insurance-
companies grew nervous and summoned a posse of doctors to consult about the
case. Outside speculations swamped him at last. The stately mansion, piles
of bonds and scores of farms passed under the sheriff's hammer in 1880.
Plucky and unconquerable, Anderson tried his hand in the Bradford field,
operating on Harrisburg Run. The result was discouraging and he entered an
insurance-office in New York. Five years ago he accepted a government-
berth in New Mexico. Meeting him on Broadway the week before he left
New York, his buoyant spirits seemed depressed. He spoke regretfully of
his approaching departure, yet hoped it might turn out advantageously. He
arrived at his post, sickened and died in a few days, "a stranger in a strange
land." Relatives and loved ones were far away when he went down into the
starless night of the grave. No gentle wife or child or valued friend was there
to smooth the pillow of the dying man, to cool the fevered brow, to catch the
i 3 6 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
last whisper, to close the glassy eyes and fold the rigid hands above the lifeless
breast. The oil -regions abound with pathetic experiences, but none surpassing
George K. Anderson's. Wealthy beyond the dreams of avarice, the courted
politician, the confidant of presidents and statesmen, a social favorite in Wash-
ington and Harrisburg, the owner of a home beautiful as Claude Melnotte
pictured to Pauline, he drained the cup of sorrow and misfortune. Reverses
beset him, his riches took wings, bereavements bore heavily upon him, he was
glad to secure a humble clerkship, and death ended the sad scene in a distant
territory. Does not human life contain more tears than smiles, more pain than
pleasure, more cloud than sunshine in the passage from the cradle to the tomb?
Frank W. Andrews, born in Vermont and reared in Ohio, taught school in
Missouri, hunted for gold at Pike's Peak and landed on Oil Creek in the winter
of 1863-4. Hauling oil nine months supplied funds to operate on Cherry tree
Run. He drilled four dry holes. One on the McClintock farm and three more
on Pithole Creek followed. This was not a flattering start, but Andrews had
lots of sand and persistence. Emerging from the Pithole excitement with
limited cash and unlimited machinery, he returned to Oil Creek and operated
extensively. His first well at Pioneer flowed .three-hundred barrels a day.
Fifty others at Shamburg, on the Benninghoff farm and Cherrytree Run brought
him hundreds of thousands of dollars. He was, rated at three-millions in 1870.
Keeping up with the tidal wave southward, he put ;down two-hundred wells in
the Franklin, Clarion and Butler districts. Failures of; banks and manufac-
tories in which he had a large stake shattered his fortune. With the loss of
money he did not lose his manliness and self-reliance. In the Bradford region
he pressed forward vigorously. Again he " plucked the flower of success" and
was fast recuperating when thrown from his horse and fatally injured. Upright,
unassuming and refined, Andrews merited the confidence and esteem of all.
The bluff overlooking Petroleum Centre from the east formed the western
side of the McCray farm. At its base, on the Hyde & Egbert plot, were sev-
eral of the finest wells in Pennsylvania, the Coquette almost touching McCray's
line. Dr. M. C. Egbert leased part of the slope and drilled three wells. Other
parties drilled five and the eight behaved so handsomely that the owner of the
land declined an offer, in 1865, of a half-million dollars for his eighty acres. A
well on top of the hill, not deep enough to hit the sand and supposed to be dry,
postponed further operations five years. His friends distanced Jeremiah in
their lamentations that McCray had spurned the five-hundred-thousand dollars.
He may have thought of Shakespeare's "tide in the affairs of men," but he
sawed wood and said nothing. Jonathan Watson, advised by a clairvoyant, in
the spring of 1870 drilled a three-hundred-barrel well on the uplands of the
Dalzell farm, close to the southern boundary of the McCray. The clairvoyant's
astonishing guess revived interest in Petroleum Centre, which for a year or two
had been on the down grade. Besieged for leases, McCray could not meet a
tithe of the demand at one-thousand dollars an acre and half the oil. Derricks
clustered thickly. Every well tapped the pool underlying fifteen acres, pump-
ing as if drawing from a lake of petroleum. Within four months the daily
production was three-thousand barrels. This meant nineteen-hundred barrels
for the land-owner fifteen-hundred from royalty and four-hundred from wells
he had drilled a regular income of nine-thousand dollars a day ! Cipher it
out nineteen-hundred barrels at four-fifty to five dollars, with eleven-hundred
barrels for the lessees and what do you find ? Fourteen-thousand dollars a
day for the last quarter of 1870 and nine months of 1871, from one-sixth of a
THE VALLEY OF PETROLEUM.
137
farm sold in 1850 for seventeen-hundred dollars ! Say, how was that for high?
James S. McCray, a farmer's son, born in 1824 on the flats below Titusville,
at twenty-two set out for himself with two dollars in his pocket. Working
three years in a saw-mill on the Allegheny, he saved his earnings and in 1850
was able to buy a team and take up the farm decreed to enrich him beyond his
wildest fancies. He married Miss Martha G. Crooks, a willing helpmeet in
adversity and wise counsellor in prosperity. His first venture in oil, a share in
a two-acre lease at Rouseville, he sold to drill a well on the Blood farm, elbow-
ing his own. From this he realized seventy-thousand dollars. For his own
farm he refused a million dollars in 1871. Sharpers dogged his footsteps and
endeavored to rope him into all sorts of preposterous schemes. He told me
one project, which was expected to control the coal-trade of the region, bled
him two-hundred-and-sixty-thousand dollars ! Instead of selling his oil right
along, at an average figure of nearly five dollars, he stored two-hundred-thou-
sand barrels in iron-tanks, to await higher prices. In my presence H. I. Beers,
HYDE & EGBERT TRACT AND MCCRAY FARM IN 1870.
of McClintockville, bid him five-thirfy-five a barrell for the lot. McCray stuck
out for five-fifty. He kept the oil for years, losing thousands of barrels by
leakage and evaporation, and sold the bulk of it at one to two dollars. Had
he dealt with Beers he would have been six-hundred-thousand dollars richer !
Mr. McCray removed to Franklin in 1872 and died some years ago. He rests
in the cemetery beside his faithful wife and only daughter. The wells on his
farm drooped and withered and the famous fifteen-acre field has long been a
pasture. A robust character, strong-willed and kindly, sometimes queerly
contradictory and often misjudged, James S. McCray could adopt the words of
King Lear : "I am a man more sinned against than sinning."
The Dalzell or Hayes farm, on which the first well fifty barrels was
drilled in 1861, boasted the Porcupine, Rhinoceros, Ramcat, Wildcat, and a
menagerie of thirty others ranging from ten barrels to three-hundred. At the
north end of the farm, in the rear of the Maple-Shade and Jersey wells, the
Petroleum Shaft- and- Mining- Company attempted to sink a hole seven feet by
138 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
seventeen to the third sand. The shaft was dug and blasted one-hundred feet,
at immense cost. The funds ran out, gas threatened to asphyxiate the work-
men, the big pumps could not exhaust the water and the absurd undertaking
was abandoned.
The story of the Story farm does not lack romantic ingredients. William
Story owned five-hundred acres south of the G. W. McClintock farm, Oil
Creek, the Dalzell and Tarr farms bounding his land on the east. He sold in
1859 to Ritchie, Hartje & Co., of Pittsburg, for thirty-thousand dollars.
George H. Bissell had negotiated for the property, but Mrs. Story objected to
signing the deed. Next day Bissell returned to offer the wife a sufficient in-
ducement, but the Pittsburg agent had been there the previous evening and
secured her signature to the Ritchie-Hartje deed by the promise of a silk dress !
Thus a twenty-dollar gown changed the ultimate ownership of millions of
dollars ! The long-haired novelist, who soars into the infinite and dives into
the unfathomable, may try to imagine what the addition of a new bonnet would
have accomplished.
The seven Pittsburgers organized a stock company in 1860 to develop the
farm. By act of Legislature this was incorporated on May first, 1861, as the
Columbia Oil-Company, with a nominal capital of two-hundred-and-fifty-thou-
sand dollars ten-thousand shares of twenty -five dollars each. Twenty-one-
. thousand barrels of oil were produced in 1861 and ninety-thousand in 1862,
shares selling at two to ten dollars. Foreign demand for oil improved matters.
On July eighth, 1863, the first dividend of thirty per cent, was declared, fol-
lowed ia August and September by two of twenty-five per cent, and in October
by one of fifty per cent. Four dividends, aggregating one-hundred-and-sixty
per cent., were declared the first six months of 1864. The capital was increased
to two-and-a-half-millions, by calling in the old stock and giving each holder of
a twenty-five-dollar share five new ones of fifty dollars apiece. Four-hundred
per cent, were paid on this capital in six years. The original stockholders
received their money back forty-three times and had ten times their first stock
to keep on drawing fat dividends ! Suppose a person had bought one-hundred
shares in 1862 at two dollars, in eight years be would have been paid one-
hundred-and-seven-thousand dollars for his two hundred and have five-hundred
fifty-dollar shares on hand ! From a mere speck of the Story farm the Columbia
Oil-Company in ten years produced oil that sold for ten-millions of dollars !
Wonder not that men, dazzled by such returns, blind to the failures that littered
the oily domain, clutched at the veriest phantoms in the mad craze for bound-
less wealth.
Splendidly managed throughout, the policy of the Columbia Company was
to operate its lands systematically. Wells were not drilled at random over the
farm, nor were leases granted to speculators. There was no effort to make a
big showing of production and exhaust the territory in the shortest time possi-
ble. For twenty-five years the Story farm yielded profitably. The wells, never
amazingly large, held on tenaciously. The Ladies' well produced sixty-five-
thousand barrels, the Floral sixty-thousand, the Big Tank fifty-thousand, the
Story Centre forty-five-thousand, the Breedtown forty-thousand, the Cherry Run
fifty-five-thousand ? the Titus pair one-hundred-thousand and the Perry thirty-
five-thousand. The company erected machine-shops, built houses for employes,
and the village of Columbia prospered. _ The Columbia Cornet Band, superbly
appointed, its thirty members in rich uniforms, its instruments the finest and its
drum-major an acrobatic revelation, could have given Gilmore's or Sousa's
THE VALLEY OF PETROLEUM. 139
points in ravishing music. G. S. Bancroft superintended the wells and D. H.
Boulton, now of Franklin, assisted President D. B. Stewart, of Pittsburg, in
conducting affairs generally. The village has vanished, the cornet band is
hushed forever, the fields are the prey of weeds and underbrush and brakemen
no more call out "Columby!" A few small wells, hidden amid the hills,
produce a morsel of oil, but the farm, despoiled of sixteen-million dollars of
greasy treasure, would not bring one-fourth the price paid William Story for it
in the fall of 1859. "So passes away earthly glory" is as true to-day as when
Horace evolved the classic phrase two-thousand years ago.
" Man wants but little, nor that little long ;
How soon must he resign his very dust,
Which frugal nature lent him for an hour ! "
On the east side of Oil Creek, opposite the southern half of the Story farm,
James Tarr owned and occupied a triangular tract of two-hundred acres. He
was a strong-limbed, loud-voiced, stout-hearted son of toil, farming in summer
and hauling lumber in winter to support his family. Although uneducated, he
had plenty of "horse sense " and native wit. His quaint speech coined words
and terms that are 'entrenched firmly in the nomenclature of Oildom. Funny
stories have been told at his expense. One of these, relating to his daughter,
whom he had taken to a seminary, has appeared in hundreds of newspapers.
According to the revised version, the principal of the school expressing a fear
that the girl had not "capacity," the fond father, profoundly ignorant of what
was meant, drew a roll of greenbacks from his pocket and exclaimed : " Damn
it, that's nothing! Buy her one and here's the stuff to pay for it !" The fact
that it is pure fiction may detract somewhat from the piquancy of this incident,
Tarr realized his own deficiencies from lack of schooling and spared no pains,
when the golden stream flowed his way, to educate the children dwelling in the
old home on the south end of the farm. His daughters were bright, good-
looking, intelligent girls. Scratching the barren hills for a meager corn-crop,
hunting rabbits on Sundays, rafting in the spring and fall and teaming while
snow lasted barely sufficed to keep the gaunt wolf of hunger from the door of
many a hardy Oil-Creek settler. To their credit be it said, most of the land-
owners whom petroleum enriched took care of their money. Rough diamonds,
uncut and unpolished, they possessed intrinsic worth. James Tarr was of the
number who did not lose their heads and squander their substance. The richest
of them all, he bought a delightful home near Meadville, provided every com-
fort and convenience, spent his closing years enjoyablyand died in 1871. " Put
yourself in his place " and, candidly, would you have done better?
For himself, George B. Delamater and L. L. Lamb, in the summer of 1860
Orange Noble leased seven acres of the Tarr farm, at the bend in Oil Creek.
Dry holes the partners "kicked down " on the Stackpole and Jones farms damp-
ening their ardor, they let the Tarr lease lie dormant some months. Contracting
with a Townville neighbor N. S. Woodford to juggle the "spring-pole," he
cracked the first sand in June, 1861. The Crescent well so called because the
faith of the owners was increasing tipped the beam at five-hundred barrels.
The first well on the Tarr farm, it flowed an average of three-hundred barrels a
day for thirteen months, quitting without notice. Cleaning it out, drilling it
deeper and pumping it for weeks were of no avail. Not a drop of oil could be
extracted and the Crescent was abandoned. Crude was so low during most of
its existence ten to twenty-five cents that the well, although it produced one-
hundred-and-twenty-thousand barrels, did not pay the owners a dollar of profit !
140 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
Drilling, royalty and tankage absorbed every nickel. Like the victories of
Pyrrhus, the more such strikes a fellow achieved the sooner he would be undone !
On the evening of August first, 1861, as James Tarr sat eating his supper of
fried pork and johnny-cake, Heman Janes, of Erie, entered the room. "Tarr,"
he said, "I'll give you sixty-thousand dollars in spot cash for your farm !" Tarr
almost fell off his chair. A year before one-thousand dollars would have been
big money for the whole plantation. "I mean it," continued the visitor; "if
you take me up I'll close the deal right here !" Tarr "took him up" and the
deal, which included a transfer of several leases, was closed quickly. Janes
planked down the sixty-thousand and Tarr, within an hour, had stepped from
poverty to affluence. This was the first large cash transaction in oil-lands on the
creek and people promptly pronounced Janes a fool of the thirty-third degree.
An Irishman, on trial for stealing a sheep, asked by the judge whether he was
guilty or not guilty, replied : ' ' How can I tell till I hear the ividence ?" Don't
endorse the Janes verdict "till you hear the ividence."
A short distance below the Crescent well William Phillips, who had leased
a narrow strip the entire length of the farm, was also urging a "spring-pole"
actively. Born in Westmoreland county in 1824, he passed his boyhood on a
farm and earned his first money mining coal. Saving his hard-won wages, he
bought the keel-boat Orphan Boy and started freighting on the Ohio and Alle-
gheny rivers. The business proving remunerative, he drilled salt-wells at Bull
Creek and Wildcat Hollow. On his last trip from Warren to Pittsburg, in Sep-
tember of 1859, ne noticed a scum of oil in front of Thomas Downing's farm,
where South Oil City now stands. The story of the Drake well was in every-
body's mouth and it occurred to Phillips that he could increase his growing
fortune by drilling on the Downing land. At Pittsburg he consulted Charles
Lockhart, William Frew, Captain Kipp and John Vanausdall and with them
formed the partnership of Phillips, Frew & Co. Returning at once, he leased
from Downing, erected a pole-derrick and proceeded to bore a well on the water's
edge. With no machine-shops, tools or appliances nearer than Pittsburg, a hun-
dred- and-thirty miles off, difficulties of all kinds retarded the work nine months.
Finally the job was completed and the Albion well, pumping forty barrels a day,
raised a commotion.
The Albion brought Phillips to the front as an oil-operator. James Tarr
readily leased him part of his farm and he began Phillips No. i well in the spring
of 1861. The Crescent's unexpected success spurred him to greater efforts.
Hurrying an engine and boiler from Pittsburg, he started his second well on the
flat hugging the stream twenty rods north of the Crescent. Steam-power rushed
the tools at a boom-de-ay gait. The first sand, from which meanwhile No. i
was rivaling the Crescent's yield, had not a pinch of oil. The solid-silver lining
of the petroleum-cloud assumed a plated look, but Phillips heeded it not. An
expert driller, he hustled the tools and on October nineteenth, at four-hundred-
and-eighty feet, pierced the shell above the third sand. At dusk he shut down
for the night. The weather was clear and the moon shone brightly. Suddenly
a vivid flame illumined the sky. Reuben Painter's well on the Blood farm, a
mile southward, had caught fire and blazed furiously. The rare spectacle of a
burning well attracted everybody for miles. Phillips and Janes were among
those who hastened to the fire, returning about midnight. An hour later they
were summoned from bed by a man yelling at the Ella-Yaw pitch : ' ' The Phillips
is bu'sted and runnin' down the creek !" People ran to the spot on the double-
quick, past the Crescent and down the bank. Gas was settling densely upon the
THE VALLEY OF PETROLEUM.
141
flats and into the creek oil was pouring lavishly. Dreading a fire, lights were
extinguished on the adjoining tracts and needful precautions taken. For three
or four days the flow raged unhindered, then a lull occurred and tubing was in-
serted. After the seed-bag swelled, a stop-cock was placed on the tubing and
thenceforth it was easy to regulate the flow. When oil was wanted the stop-cock
was opened and wooden troughs conveyed the stuff to boats drawn up the creek
by horses, the chief mode of transportation for years. The oil was forty-four
gravity and four-thousand barrels a day gushed out ! In June of 1862, when
WOOUFORD WELL.
TARR FARM IN 1862.
PHILLIPS WELL.
Phillips and Major Frew, with their wives and a party of friends, inspected the
well, a careful gauge showed it was doing thirty-six-hundred-and-sixty barrels !
The Phillips well held the champion-belt twenty-seven years. It produced until
1871, getting down to ten or twelve barrels and ceasing altogether the night
James Tarr expired, having yielded nearly one-million barrels ! Cargoes of the
oil were sold to boatmen at five cents a barrel, thousands of barrels were wasted,
tens of thousands were stored in underground tanks and much was sold at three
to thirteen dollars.
N. S. Woodford, Noble & Delamater's contractor, had the foresight to lease
the ground between the Crescent and the Phillips No. 2. His three-thousand
barreler, finished in December, 1861, drew its grist from the Phillips crevice and
interfered with the mammoth gusher. When the two became pumpers neither
would give out oil unless both were worked. If one was stopped the other
pumped water. Ultimately the Phillips crowd paid Woodford a half-million for
his well and lease, a wad for which a man would ford even the atrocious Tarr-
farm mud and complacently whistle "Ta-ra-ra." He retired to his pleasant
home, with six-hundred-thousand dollars to show for eighteen months' operations
on Oil Creek, and never bothered any more about oil. The Woodford well
repaid its enormous cost. Lockhart and Frew bought out their partners at a
high price and put the Phillips-Woodford interests into a stock-company capi-
talized at two-million dollars. The Phillips well one result of a keen-eyed
142
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
boatman's observing an oily scum on the Allegheny River enriched all con-
cerned. Had Phillips failed to see the speck of grease that September day,
who can tell how different oil-region history might have been? Happily for a
good many persons, the Orphan Boy was not one of the " Ships that Pass in the
Night." What a field Oil Creek presents for the fervid fancy of a Dumas, a
Dickens, a Wilkie Collins or a Charles Reade !
Comrades in business and good-fellowship, William Phillips and John Van-
ausdall removed to South Oil-City, lived neighbors and died twenty years ago.
They resembled each other in appearance and temper, in charitable impulse and
kindness to the poor. Phillips drilled dozens of wells none of them dry aided
Oil-City enterprises and was a member of the shipping firm of Munhall & Co.
until its dissolution in 1876. He was the first man to ship oil by steamer, the
Venango taking the first load to Pittsburg, and the first to run crude in bulk
down the creek. One son, John C. Phillips, and a married daughter live at Oil
City and two sons at Freeport.
Heman Janes, of Erie, the first purchaser of the Tarr farm, from 1850 to 1861
shipped large quantities of lumber to the eastern market. Passing through
Canada in 1858, he heard oil was obtained from gum-beds in Lambton county,
south of Lake Huron, and visited the place. John Williams was dipping five
barrels a day from a hole ten feet square and twenty feet deep. The best gum-
beds spread over two-hundred acres of timbered land, which Mr. Janes bought
at nine -dollars an acre, the owner selling because "the stinking oil smelled five
miles off." Leasing four-hundred acres more, in 1860 he sold a half-interest in
both tracts for fifteen-thousand dollars and retired from lumbering to devote his
attention to oil. Large wells on his Canadian lands enabled him to sell the second
half of the property in 1865 for fifty-five-thousand dollars. In February, 1861,
_^ he secured a thirty-day option on the J. Bu-
chanan farm, the site of Rouseville, and ten-
dered the price at the stipulated time, but the
j|P ^^ transaction fell through. In March of that
K year he went to West Virginia and leased one-
1K& im thousand acres on the Kanawha River, includ-
ing the famous "Burning Spring." U. E.
Everett & Co. agreed to pay fifty-thousand
dollars for one-half interest in the property,
at Parkersburg, on April twelfth. All parties
met, a certified check was laid on the table
and Attorney J. B. Blair started to draw the
papers. At that moment a boy ran past,
shouting : ' ' Fort Sumpter's fired on ! " The
gentlemen hurried out to learn the particulars.
' ' The cat came back, " but Everett didn't. A
message told him to "hold off, " and he is
holding off still. Janes stayed as long as a Northerner dared and was thankful
to sell the batch of leases for seventy-five-hundred dollars. In 1862 he sued the
owners of the Phillips well for his royalty in barrels. They refused to furnish
the barrels, which were scarce and expensive, and the well was shut down for
months pending the litigation. The suit was for one-hundred-and-twelve- thou-
sand dollars, up to that time the largest amount ever involved in a case before
the Venango court. Edwin M. Stanton, soon to be known as the illustrious
War-Secretary, was one of the attorneys engaged by the plaintiff, for a fee of
HEMAN JANES.
THE VALLEY OF PETROLEUM. 143
twenty-five-thousand dollars . A compromise was arranged for half the oil. The
first oil sold after this agreement was at three dollars a barrel, taken from the first
twelve-hundred-barrel tank ever seen in the region. A wooden tank of that size
excited more curiosity in those days than a hundred iron-ones of forty-thousand
barrels in this year of grace. Janes sold back half the farm to Tarr for forty-
thousand dollars and two-thirds of the remaining half to Clark & Sumner for
twenty-thousand, leaving him one-sixth clear of cost, the same month he bought
the tract. He first suggested casing wells to exclude the water, built the first
bulk-boat decked over six-hundred barrels to transport oil and was identified
with the first practicable pipe-line. Paying seventy-five-thousand dollars for the
Blackmar farm, at Pithole, he drilled three dry holes and then got rid of the land
at a snug advance. Since 1878 Mr. Janes has been interested in the Bradford
field and living at Erie. A man of forceful character and executive ability,
hearty, vigorous and companionable, he deserves the large measure of success
that rewarded him as an important factor in petroleum-affairs. In the words of
the good Scottish mother to her son: "May your lot be wi' the rich in this
warld and wi' the puir in the warld to come."
The amazing output of the Phillips and Woodford wells stimulated the de-
mand for territory to the boiling point. Men were infinitely less eager to ' ' read
their title clear to mansions in the skies ' ' than to secure a title to a fragment of
the Tarr farm. Rigs huddled on the bank and in the water, for nobody thought
oil existed back in the hilly sections. Sixty yards below the Phillips spouter
J. F. Crane sank a well that responded as pleasantly as " the swinging of the
crane." Densmore Brothers, at the lower end of the farm, drilled a seven-hun-
dred-barreler late in 1861. A zoological freak introduced the animal-fad, which
named the Elephant, Young Elephant, Tigress, Tiger, Lioness, Scared Cat,
Anaconda and Weasel wells. Reckless speculation held the fort unchecked.
The third sand was sixty feet thick, the territory was durable and three-hundred
walking-beams exhibited "the poetry of motion " to the music of three-four-
five-six-eight-ten-dollar oil. Mr. Janes built a commodious hotel and a town of
two-thousand population flourished. James Tarr sold his entire interest in 1865,
for gold equivalent to two-millions in currency, and removed to Crawford county.
Another million would hardly cover his royalties. Three-million dollars ahead
of the game in four years, he could afford to smile at the jibes of small-souled
retailers of witless ridicule. If ' ' money talks, ' ' three-millions ought to be pretty
eloquent. The churches, stores, houses, offices, wells and tanks have "gone
glimmering." Tarr-Farm station appears no more on railroad time-tables.
Modern maps do not reveal it. Few know and fewer care who owns the place
once the apple of the oilman's eye, now a shadowy relic not worth carting off
in a wheelbarrow !
Producers have enjoyed quite a reputation for "resolving," and the first
meeting ever held to regulate the price of crude was at Tarr farm in 1861. The
moving spirits were Mr. Janes, General James Wadsworth and Josiah Oakes,
the latter a New-York capitalist. The idea was to raise five-hundred-thousand
dollars and buy up the territory for ten miles along Oil Creek. Wadsworth and
Oakes raised over three-hundred-thousand dollars for this purpose, when the
panic arising from the war ended the scheme. A contract was also made with
Erie parties to lay a four-inch wooden pipe-line from Tarr farm to Oil City. On
the advice of Col. Clark, of Clark & Sumner, and Sir John Hope, the eminent
London banker, it was decided to abandon the project and apply for a charter
for a pipe-line. This was done in the winter of 1861-2, Hon. Morrow B. Lowry,
i 4 4 SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
who represented the district in the State Senate, favoring the application. Hon.
M. C. Beebe, the local member of the Legislature, .opposed it resolutely, because,
to quote his own words : "There are four-thousand teams hauling oil and my
constituents won't stand this interference. " The measure failing to carry, Clark
& Hope built the Standard refinery at Pittsburg.
Resistance to the South-Improvement-Company welded the producers sol-
idly in 1872. The refiners organized to force a larger margin between crude and
refined. To offset this and govern the production and sale of crude, the pro-
ducers established a "union," "agencies" and "councils." In October of 1872
every well in the region was shut down for thirty days. The " spirit of seventy-
six " was abroad and individual losses were borne cheerfully for the general
good. This was the heroic period, which demonstrated the manly fiber of the
great body of oil-operators. E. E. Clapp, of President, and Captain William
Harson, of Oil City, were the chief officers of these remarkable organizations.
Suspensions of drilling in 1873-4-5 supplemented the memorable "thirty-day
shut-down." At length the "union," the "councils" and the "agencies"
wilted and dissolved. The area of productive territory widened and strong
companies became a necessity to develop it. The big fish swallowed the little
ones, hence the personal feature so pronounced in earlier years has been almost
eliminated. Many of the operators are members of the Producers' Association,
in which Congressman Phillips, Lewis Emery, David Kirk and T. J. Vander-
g'rift are prime factors. Its president, Hon. J. W. Lee, practiced law at Frank-
lin, served twice as State -Senator and located at Pittsburg last year. He is a
cogent speaker, not averse to legal tilts and not backward flying his colors in
the face of the enemy.
South of the Story and Tarr farms, on both sides of Oil Creek, were John
Blood's four-hundred-and-forty acres. The owner lived in an unpainted,
weatherbeaten frame house. On five acres of the flats the Ocean Petroleum-
Company had twelve flowing wells in 1861. The Maple-Tree Company's burn-
ing well spouted twenty-five-hundred barrels for several months, declined to
three-hundred in a year and was destroyed by fire in October of 1862. The
flames devastated twenty acres, consuming ten wells and a hundred tanks of
oil, the loss aggregating a million dollars. A sheet of fire, terribly grand and
up to that date the most extensive and destructive in Oildom, wrapped the flats
and the stream. Blood Well No. i, flowing a thousand barrels, Blood No. 2,
flowing six hundred, and five other gushers never yielded after the conflagration,
prior to which the farm was producing more oil than the balance of the region.
Brewer & Watson, Ballard & Trax, Edward Filkins, Henry Collins, Reuben
Painter, James Burrows and J. H, Duncan were pioneer operators on the tract.
Blood sold in 1863 for five-hundred-and-sixty-thousand dollars and removed to
New York. Buying a brownstone residence on Fifth avenue, he splurged
around Gotham two or three years, quit the city for the country and died long
since. The Blood farm was notably prolific, but its glory has departed.
Stripped bare of derricks, houses, wells and tanks, naught is left save the rugged
hills and sandy banks. "It is no matter, the cat will mew, the dog will have
his day."
Neighbors of John Blood, a raw-boned native and his wife, enjoyed an expe-
rience not yet forgotten in New York. Selling their farm for big money, the
couple concluded to see Manhattanville and set off in high glee, arrayed in
homespun -clothes of most agonizing country-fashion. Wags on the farm ad-
vised them to go to the Astor House and insist upon having the finest room in
THE VALLEY OF PETROLEUM. 145
the caravansary. Arriving in New York, they were driven to the hotel, each
carrymg a bundle done up in a colored handkerchief. Their rustic appearance
attracted great attention, which was increased when the man marched to the
office-counter and demanded ' ' the best in the shebang, b'gosh. ' ' The astounded
clerk tried to get the unwelcome guest to go elsewhere, assuring him he must
have made a mistake. The rural delegate did not propose to be bluffed by
coaxing or threats. At length the representative of petroleum wanted to know
' r how much it would cost to buy the gol-darned ranche." In despair the clerk
summoned the proprietor, who soon took in the situation. To humor the
stranger he replied that one-hundred-thousand dollars would buy the place.
The chap produced a pile of bills and tendered him the money on the spot !
Explanations followed, a parlor and bedroom were assigned the pair and for
days they were the lions of the metropolis. Hundreds of citizens and ladies
called to see the innocents who had come on their ' ' first tower ' ' as green and
unsophisticated as did Josiah Allen's Wife twenty years later.
Ambrose Rynd, an Irish woolen-factor, bought five-hundred acres from the
Holland Land-Company in 1800 and built a log-cabin at the mouth of Cherrytree
Run. He attained the Nestorian age of ninety-nine. His grandson, John
Rynd, born in the log-cabin in 1815, owned three-hundred acres of the tract when
the petroleum-wave swept Oil Creek, o The Blood farm was north and the Smith
east. Cherrytree and Wykle Runs rippled through the western half of the prop-
erty, which Oil Creek divided nicely. Developments in 1861 were on the eastern
half. Starting at five-hundred barrels, the Rynd well flowed until 1863. The
Crawford " saw " the Rynd and " went it one better," lasting until June of 1864.
Six fair wells were drilled on Rynd Island, a dot at the upper part of the farm.
The Rynd-Farm Oil-Company of New York purchased the tract in 1864. John
Rynd moved to Fayette county and died in the seventies. Hume & Crawford,
Porter & Milroy, B. F. Wren, the Ozark, Favorite, Frost, Northern and a score of
companies operated vigorously. The third sand thickened and improved with
the elevation of the hills. Five refineries handled a thousand barrels of crude
per week. A snug village bloomed on the west side, the broad flat affording an
eligible site. The late John Wallace and Theodore Ladd were prominent in the
later stage of operations. Cyrus D. Rynd returned in 1881 to take charge
of the farm and served as postmaster six years. Rynd, once plump and juicy,
now lean and desiccated, resembles an orange which a boy has sucked and
thrown away the rind.
Two museum-curio wells on the Rynd farm illustrated practically Chap-
lain McCabe's " Drinking From the Same Canteen." A dozen strokes of the
pump every hour caused the Agitator to flow ten or fifteen minutes. The pious
Sunday well, its companion, loafed six days in the week while the other worked,
flowing on the Sabbath when the Agitator pump rested from its labors. This
sort of affinity, which cost William Phillips and Noble & Delamater a mint of
money, was evinced most forcibly on the McClintock farm, west side of Oil
Creek, south of Rynd. William McClintock, original owner of the two-hundred
acres, dying in 1859, the widow remained on the farm with her grandson, John
W. Steele, whom the couple had adopted at a tender age, upon the decease of
his mother. Nearly half the farm was bottom-land, fronting the creek, on the
bank of which the first wells were sunk in 1861. The Vanslyke flowed twelve-
hundred barrels a day, declined slowly and in its third year pumped fourteen-
thousand. The Lloyd, Eastman, Little Giant, Morrison, Hayes & Merrick,
Christy, Ocean, Painter, Sterrett, Chase and sixty more each put up fifty to four-
146 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
hundred barrels daily. Directly between the Vanslyke and Christy, a few rods
from either, New-York parties finished the Hammond well in May, 1864. Start-
ing to flow three-hundred barrels a day, the Hammond killed the Lloyd and
Christy and reduced the Vanslyke to a ten-barrel pumper. Its triumph was
short-lived. Early in June the New Yorkers, elated over its performance,
bought the royalty of the well and one-third acre of ground for two-hundred
thousand dollars. The end of June the tubing was drawn from the Excelsior
well, on the John McClintock farm, five-hundred yards east, flooding the Ham-
mond and all the wells in the vicinity. The damage was attributed to Vander-
grift & Titus's new well a short distance down the flat, nobody imagining it came
from a hole a quarter-mile ofF. Retubing the Excelsior quickly restored one-
half the Hammond's yield, which increased as the Excelsior's lessened. An
adjustment followed, but the final pulling of the tubing from the Excelsior
drowned the affected wells permanently. Geologists and scientists reveled in
the ethics suggested by such interference, which casing wells has obviated. The
Widow-McClintock farm produced hundreds of thousands of barrels of oil and
changed hands repeatedly. For years it was owned by a man who as a boy
blacked Steele's boots. In 1892 John Waites renovated a number of the old
wells. Pumping some and plugging others, to shut out water, surprised and
rewarded him with a yield that is bringing him a tidy fortune. The action of the
stream has washed away the ground on which the Vanslyke, the Sterrett and
several of the largest wells were located. ' ' Out, out, brief candle !"
Mrs. McClintock, like thousands of women since, attempted one day in
March of 1863 to hurry up the kitchen-fire with kerosene. The result was her
fatal burning, death in an hour and the first funeral to the account of the treach-
erous oil-can. The poor woman wore coarse clothing, worked hard and se-
creted her wealth about the house. Her will, written soon after McClintock' s
exit, bequeathed everything to the adopted heir, John W. Steele, twenty years
old when his grandmother met her tragic fate. At eighteen he had married
Miss M. Moffett, daughter of a farmer in Sugarcreek township. He hauled oil
in 1 86 1 with hired plugs until he could buy a span of stout horses. Oil-Creek
teamsters, proficient in lurid profanity, coveted his varied stock of pointed exple-
tives. The blonde driver, of average height and slender build, pleasing in ap-
pearance and address, by no means the unlicked cub and ignorant boor he has
been represented, neither smoke nor drank nor gambled, but ' ' he could say
' damn ' ! " Climbing a hill with a load of oil, the end-board dropped out and five
barrels of crude wabbled over the steep bank. It was exasperating and the
spectators expected a special outburst. Steele ' ' winked the other eye ' ' and
remarked placidly : " Boys, it's no use trying to do justice to this occasion."
The shy youth, living frugally and not the type people would associate with
unprecedented antics, was to figure in song and story and be advertised more
widely than the sea-serpent or Barnum's woolly-horse. Millions who never
heard of John Smith, Dr. Mary Walker or Baby McKee have heard and read
and talked about the one-and-only ''Coal-Oil Johnnie."
The future candidate for minstrel-gags and newspaper-space was hauling
oil when a neighbor ran to tell him of Mrs. McClintock' s death. He hastened
home. A search of the premises disclosed two-hundred-thousand dollars the
old lady had hoarded. Wm. Blackstone, appointed his guardian, restricted the
minor to a reasonable allowance. The young man's conduct was irreproachable
until he attained his majority. His income was enormous. Mr. Blackstone paid
him three-hundred-thousand dollars in a lump and he resolved to " see some of
VALLEY OF PETROLEUM. 147
the world." He saw it, not through smoked glass either. His escapades sup-
plied no end of material for gossip. Many tales concerning him were exaggera-
tions and many pure inventions. Demure, slow-going Philadelphia he colored
a flaming vermilion. He gave away carriages after a single drive, kept open-
house in a big hotel and squandered thousands of dollars a day. Seth Slocum
was "showing him the sights" and he fell an easy victim to blacklegs and
swindlers. He ordered champagne by the dozen baskets and treated theatrical
companies to the costliest wine-suppers. Gay ballet girls at Fox's old play-
house told spicy stories of these midnight frolics. To a negro-comedian, who
sang a song that pleased him, he handed a thousand-dollar pin. He would
walk the streets with bank-bills stuck in the buttonholes of his coat for Young
America to grab. He courted club- men and spent cash like the Count of Monte
Cristo. John Morrissey sat a night with him at cards in his Saratoga gambling-
house, cleaning him out of many thousands. Leeches bled him and sharpers
fleeced him mercilessly. He was a spendthrift, but he didn't light cigars with
hundred-dollar bills, buy a Philadelphia hotel to give a chum nor destroy money
" for fun." Usually somebody benefited by his extravagances.
Occasionally his prodigality assumed a sensible phase. Twenty-eight-hun-
dred dollars, one day's receipts from bis wells and royalty, went toward the
erection of the soldiers' monument a magnificent shaft of white marble in
the Franklin park. Except Dan Rice's five-thousand memorial at Girard, Erie
county, this was the first monument in the Union to the fallen heroes of the
civil war. Ten, twenty or fifty dollars frequently gladdened the poor who asked
for relief. He lavished fine clothes and diamonds on a minstrel-troupe, touring
the country and entertainining crowds in the oil-regions. John W. Gaylord, an
artist in burnt-cork and member of the troupe, has furnished these details :
"Yes. ' Coal-Oil Johnnie' was my particular friend in his palmiest days. I was his room-
mate when he cut the shines that celebrated him as the most eccentric millionaire on earth. I
was with the Skiff & Gaylord minstrels. Johnnie saw us perform in Philadelphia, got stuck on
the business and bought one-third interest in the show. His first move was to get five-thousand
dollars' worth of woodcuts at his own expense. They were all the way from a one-sheet to a
twenty-four-sheet in size and the largest amount any concern had ever owned. The cartoon,
which attracted so much attention, of ' Bring That Skiff Over Here,' was in the lot. We went
on the road, did a monstrous business everywhere, turned people away and were prosperous.
" Reaching Utica, N. Y., Johnnie treated to a supper for the company, which cost one-thou-
sand dollars. He then conceived the idea of traveling by his own train and purchased an engine,
a sleeper and a baggage-car. Dates for two weeks were cancelled and we went junketing,
Johnnie footing the bills. At Erie we had a five-hundred-dollar supper ; and so it went. It was
here that Johnnie bought his first hack. After a short ride he presented it to the driver. Our
dates being cancelled, Johnnie insisted upon indemnifying us for the loss of time. He paid all
salaries, estimated the probable business receipts npon the basis of packed houses and paid that
also to our treasurer.
11 In Chicago he gave another exhibition of his eccentric traits. He leased the Academy of
Music for the season and we did a big business. Finally he proposed a benefit for Skiff & Gaylord
and sent over to rent the Crosby Opera-House, then the finest in the country. The manager sent
back the insolent reply: 'We won't rent our house for an infernal nigger-show.' Johnnie got
warm in the collar. He went down to their office in Root & Cady's music-store.
" 'What will you take for your house and sell it outright?' he asked Mr. Root.
" ' I don't want to sell.'
" ' I'll give you a liberal price. Money is no object.'
" Then Johnnie pulled out a roll from his valise, counted out two-hundred-thousand dollars
and asked Root if that was an object. Mr. Root was thunderstruck. ' If you are that kind of a
man you can have the house for the benefit free of charge.' The benefit was the biggest success
ever known in minstrelsy. The receipts were forty-five-hundred dollars and more were turned
away than could be given admission. Next day Johnnie hunted up one of the finest carriage-
horses in the city and presented it to Mr. Root for the courtesy extended.
' ' Oh, Johnnie was a prince with his money. I have seen him spend as high as one hundred-
i- 4 8 SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
thousand dollars in one day. That was the tiire he hired the Continental Hotel in Philadelphia
and wanted to buy the Girard House. He went to the Continental and politely said to the clerk :
Will you please tell the proprietor that J. W. Steele wishes to see him?' 'No, sir,' said the
clerk ; ' the landlord is busy.' Johnnie suggested he could make it pay the clerk to accommodate
the whim. The clerk became disdainful and Johnnie tossed a bell-boy a twenty-dollar gold-piece
with the request. The result was an interview with the landlord. Johnnie claimed he had been
ill-treated and requested the summary dismissal of the clerk. The proprietor refused and
Johnnie offered to buy the hotel. The man said he could not sell, because he was not the entire
owner. A bargain was made to lease it one day for eight-thousand dollars. The cash was paid
over and Johnnie installed as landlord. He made me bell-boy, while Slocum officiated as clerk.
The doors were thrown open and every guest in the house had his fill of wine and edibles free of
cost. A huge placard was posted in front of the hotel: 'Open house to-day; everything free;
all are welcome !' It was a merry lark. The whole city seemed to catch on and the house was
full. When Johnnie thought he had had fun enough he turned the hostelry over to the landlord,
who reinstated the odious clerk. Here was a howdedo. Johnnie was frantic with rage. He
went over to the Girard and tried to buy it. He arranged with the proprietor to ' buck ' the Con-
tinental by making the prices so low that everybody would come there. The Continental did
mighty little business so long as the arrangement lasted.
" The day of the hotel -transaction we were up on Arch street. A rain setting in, Johnnie
approached a hack in front of a fashionable store and tried to engage it to carry us up to the
Girard. The driver said it was impossible, as he had a party in the store. Johnnie tossed him a
five-hundred-dollar bill and the hackman said he would risk it. When we arrived at the hotel
Johnnie said : ' See here, Cabby, you're a likely fellow. How would you like to own that rig?'
The driver thought he was joking, but Johnnie handed him two-thousand dollars. A half-hour
later the delighted driver returned with the statement that the purchase had been effected.
Johnnie gave him a thousand more to buy a stable and that man to-day is the wealthiest hack-
owner in Philadelphia."
Steele reached the end of his string and the farm was sold in 1866. When
he was flying the highest Captain J. J. Vandergrift and T. H. Williams kindly
urged him to save some of his money. He thanked them for the friendly advice,
said he had made a living by hauling oil and could do so again if necessary, but
he couldn't rest until he had spent that fortune. He spent a million and got
the "rest." Returning to Oildom "dead broke," he secured the position of
baggage-master at Rouseville station. He attended to his duties punctually,
was a model of domestic virtue and a most popular, obliging official. Happily
his wife had saved something and the reunited couple got along swimmingly.
Next he opened a meat-market at Franklin, built up a nice business, sold the
shop and moved to Ashland, Nebraska. He farmed, laid up money and en-
tered the service of the Chicago, Burlington & Quincy Railroad some years ago
as baggage-master. His manly son, whom he educated splendidly, is telegraph-
operator at Ashland station. The father, "steady as a clock," is industrious,
reliable and deservedly esteemed. Recently a fresh crop of stories regarding
him has been circulated, but he minds his own affairs and is not one whit puffed
up that the latest rival of Pears and Babbitt has just brought out a brand of
" Coal-Oil Johnnie Soap."
John McClintock's farm of two-hundred acres, east of Steele and south of
Rynd, Chase & Alden leased in September of 1859, f r one-half the oil. B. R.
Alden was a naval officer, disabled from wounds received in California, and an
oil-seeker at Cuba, New York. A hundred wells rendered the farm extremely
productive. The Anderson, sunk in 1861 near the southeast corner, on Cherry
Run, flowed constantly three years, waning gradually from two-hundred barrels
to twenty. Efforts to stop the flow in 1862, when oil dropped to ten or fifteen
cents, merely imbued it with fresh vigor. Anderson thought the oil-business
had gone to the bow-wows and deemed himself lucky to get seven-thousand
dollars in the fall for the well. It earned one-hundred-thousand dollars subse-
quently and then sold for sixty-thousand. The Excelsior produced fifty-thou-
sand barrels before the interference with the Hammond destroyed both. The
THE VALLEY OF PETROLEUM.
149
Wheeler, Wright & Hall, Alice Lee, Jew, Deming, Haines and Taft wells were
choice specimens. William and Robert Orr's Auburn Oil-Works and the Penne-
chuck Refinery chucked six-hundred barrels a week into the stills. The McClin-
tocks have migrated from Venango. Some are in heaven, some in Crawford
county and some in the west. If Joseph Cooke's conundrum "Does Death
End All?" be negatived, there ought to be a grand reunion when they meet
in the New Jerusalem and talk over their experiences on Oil Creek.
Eight miles east of Titusville, at Enterprise, JohnL. and Foster W T . Mitchell,
sons of a pioneer settler of Allegheny township, were lumbering and merchan-
dising in 1859. They had worked on the farm and learned blacksmithing from
their father. The report of Col. Drake's well stirred the little hamlet. John
L. Mitchell mounted a horse and rode at a John-Gilpin gallop to lease Archibald
Buchanan's big farm, on both sides of Oil Creek and Cherry Run. The old
man agreed to his terms, a lease was executed, the
rosy-cheeked mistress and all the pupils in the log
school-house who could write witnessed the signa-
tures and Mitchell rode back with the document in
his pocket. He also leased John Buchanan's two
hundred acres, south of
Archibald Buchanan's I
three-hundred on * u ~
same terms one-fourth
the oil for ninety years.
Forming a partnership
with Henry R. Rouse and
Samuel Q. Brown, he
" kicked down " the first
well in 1860 to the first
sand. It pumped ten bar-
rels a day and was bought by A. Potter, who sank
it and another to the third sand in 1861. A three-
hundred-barreler for months, No. i changed hands
four times, was bought in 1865 by Gould & Stowell
and produced oil it pumped for fifteen years that sold for two-hundred-and-
ninety-thousand dollars ! This veteran was the third or fourth producing well
in the region. The Curtis, usually considered "the first flowing-well," in July
of 1860 spouted freely at two-hundred feet. It was not tubed and surface-water
soon mastered the flow of oil. The Brawley sixty-thousand barrels in eight
months Goble & Flower, Shaft and Sherman were moguls of 1861-2. Beech
& Gillett, Alfred Willoughby, Taylor & Rockwell, Shreve & Glass, Allen Wright,
Wesley Chambers his infectious laugh could be heard five squares and a host
of companies operated in 1861-2-3. Franklin S. Tarbell, E. M. Hukell, E. C.
ii
JOHN
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
Bradley, Harmon Camp, George Long and J. T. Jones arrived later. The terri-
tory was singularly profitable. Mitchell & Brown erected a refinery, divided the
tracts into hundreds of acre-plots for leases and laid out the town of Buchanan
Farm. Allen Wright, president of a local oil-company, in February of 1861
printed his letter-heads " Rouseville" and the name was adopted unanimously.
Rouseville grew swiftly and fora time was headquarters of the oil industry.
Churches and schools arose, good people feeling that man lives not by oil
alone any more than by bread. Dwellings extended up Cherry Run and the
slopes of Mt. Pisgah. Wells and tanks covered the flats and there were few
drones in the busy hive. If Satan found mischief for the idle only, he would have
starved in Rouseville. Stores and shops multiplied. James White fitted up an
opera-house and C. L. Stowell opened a bank. Henry Patchen conducted the
first hotel. N. W. Read enacted the role of " Petroleum V. Nasby, wich iz post-
master." The receipts in 1869 exceeded twenty-five-thousand dollars. Miss
Nettie Dickinson, afterwards in full charge of the money-order department at
Pittsburg and partner with Miss Annie Burke in a
flourishing Oil-City bookstore, ran the office in an
efficient style Postmaster-General Wilson would
have applauded. Yet moss-backed croakers in
pants, left over from the Pliocene period, think the
gentle 1 sex has no business with business ! The
town reached high-water mark early in the seven-
ties, the population grazing nine-thousand. Pro-
duction declined, new fields attracted live operators
and in 1880 the inhabitants numbered seven-hun-
dred, twice the present figure. Rouseville will
go down in history as an oil-town noted for pro-
gressiveness, intelligence, crooked streets and girls
"pretty as a picture."
WESLEY CHAMBERS.
You could always count on a lively rustle
The boys knew how to get up and hustle,
And of course the girls had plenty of bustle.
The Buchanan -Farm Oil-Company purchased Mitchell & Brown's interest
and the Buchanan Royalty Oil-Company acquired the one-fourth held by the
land-owners. Both realized heavily, the Royalty Company paying its stock-
holdersArnold Plumer, William Haldeman and Dr. C. E. Cooper were prin-
cipals about a million dollars. The senior Buchanan, after receiving two or
three-hundred-thousand dollars fifty times the sum he would ever have gained
forming often denounced "th' pirates that robbed an old man, buyin' th' farm
he could 'ave sold two year later fur two millyun !" The old man has been out
of pirate- range twenty-five years and the Buchanan families are scattered.
Most of the old-time operators have handed in their final account. Poor Fred
Rockwell has mouldered into dust. Wright, Camp, Taylor, Beech, Long,
Shreve, Haldeman, Hostetter, Cooper, Col. Gibson and Frank Irwin are
"grav'd in the hollow ground." Death claimed "Hi" Whiting in Florida and
last March stilled the cheery voice of Wesley Chambers. The earnest, pleading
tones of the Rev. R. M. Brown will be heard no more this side the walls of jasper
and the gates of pearl. Scores moved to different parts of the country. John
L. Mitchell married Miss Hattie A. Raymond and settled at Franklyn. He
organized the Exchange Bank in 1871 and was its president until ill-health
obliged him to resign. Foster W. Mitchell also located at the county-seat and
THE VALLEY OF PETROLEUM. 151
built the Exchange Hotel. He operated extensively on Oil Creek and in the
northern districts, developed the Shaw Farm and established a bank at Rouse-
ville, subsequently transferring it to Oil City. He was active in politics and in
the producers' organizations, treasurer of the Centennial Commission and an
influential force in the Oil-Exchange. David H. Mitchell likewise gained a
fortune in oil, founded a bank and died at Titusville. Samuel Q. Brown, their
relative and associate in various undertakings, was a merchant and banker at
Pleasantville. Retiring from these pursuits, he removed to Philadelphia and
then to New York to oversee the financial work of the Tidewater Pipe-Line.
He procured the charter for the first pipe-line and acquired a fortune by his
business-talent and wise management.
" Let Hercules himself do what he may,
The cat will mew, the dog will have his day."
Born in New York in 1824, Henry R. Rouse studied law, taught school in
Warren county and engaged in lumbering and storekeeping at Enterprise. He
served in the legislatures of 1859-60, acquitting himself manfully. Promptly
catching the inspiration of the hour, he shared with William Barnsdall and
Boone Meade the honor of putting down the third oil-well in Pennsylvania.
With John L. Mitchell and Samuel Q. Brown he leased the Buchanan farm and
invested in oil-lands generally. Fabulous wealth began to reward his efforts.
Had he lived "he would have been a giant or a bankrupt in petroleum."
Operations on the John Buchanan farm were pushed actively. Near the upper
line of the farm, on the east side of Oil Creek, at the foot of the hill, Merrick
& Co. drilled a well in 1861 , eight rods from the Wadsworth. On April seven-
teenth, at the depth of three-hundred feet, gas, water and oil rushed up, fairly
lifting the tools out of the hole. The evening was damp and the atmosphere
surcharged with gas. People ran with shovels to dig trenches and throw up a
bank to hold the oil, no tanks having been provided. Mr. Rouse and George
H. Dimick, his clerk and cashier, with six others, had eaten supper and were
sitting in Anthony's Hotel discussing the fall of Fort Sumter. A laborer at the
Merrick well bounded into the room to say that a vein of oil had been struck
and barrels were wanted. All ran to the well but Dimick, who went to send
barrels. Finishing this errand, he hastened towards the well. A frightful explo-
sion hurled him to the earth. Smouldering coals under the Wadsworth boiler
had ignited the gas. In an instant the two wells, tanks and an acre of ground
saturated with oil were in flames, enveloping ninety or a hundred persons. Men
digging the ditch or dipping the oil wilted like leaves in a gale. Horrible shrieks
rent the air. Dense volumes of black smoke ascended. Tongues of flame
leaped hundreds of feet. One poor fellow, charred to the bone, died screaming
with agony over his supposed arrival in hell. Victims perished scarcely a step
from safety. Rouse stood near the derrick at the fatal moment. Blinded by
the first flash, he stumbled forward and fell into the marshy soil. Throwing
valuable papers and a wallet of money beyond the circuit of fire, he struggled
to his feet, groped a dozen paces and fell again. Two men dashed into the sea
of flame and dragged him forth, his flesh baked and his clothing a handful 01
shreds. He was carried to a shanty and gasped through five hours of excru-
ciating torture. His wonderful self-possession never deserted him, no word or
act betraying his fearful suffering. Although obliged to sip water from a spoon
at every breath, he dictated a concise will, devising the bulk of his estate in trust
to improve the roads and benefit the poor of Warren county. Relatives and
intimate friends, his clerk and hired boy, the men who bore him from the broil-
1 52 SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
ing furnace and honest debtors were remembered. This dire calamity blotted
out nineteen lives and disfigured thirteen men and boys permanently. The
blazing oil was smothered with dirt the third day. Tubing was put in the well,
which flowed ten-thousand barrels in a week and then ceased. Nothing is left
to mark the scene of the sad tragedy. The Merrick, Wadsworth, Haldeman,
Clark & Banks, Trundy, Comet and Imperial wells, the tanks and the dwellings
have been obliterated. Dr. S. S. Christy he was Oil City's first druggist Allen
Wright, N. F. Jones, W. B. Williams and William H. Kinter, five of the six
witnesses to Rouse's remarkable will, are in eternity, Z. Martin alone remaining.
Warren's greatest benefactor, the interest of the half-million dollars Rouse
bequeathed to the county has improved roads, constructed bridges and provided
a poor-house at Youngsville. Rouse was distinguished for noble traits, warm
impulses, strong attachments, energy and decision of character. He dispensed
his bounty lavishly. It was a favorite habit to pick up needy children, furnish
them with clothes and shoes and send them home with baskets of provisions.
He did not forget his days of trial and poverty. His religious views were pecu-
liar. While reverencing the Creator, he despised narrow creeds, deprecated
popular notions of worship and had no dread of the hereafter. To a preacher,
in the little group that watched his fading life, who desired an hour before the
end to administer consolation, he replied : " My account is made up. If I am
a debtor, it would be cowardly to ask for credit now. I do not care to discuss
the matter. " He directed that his funeral be without display, that no sermon be
preached and that he be laid beside his mother at Westfield, New York. Thus
lived and died Henry R. Rouse, of small stature and light frame, but dowered
with rare talents and heroic soul. Perhaps at the Judgment Day, when deeds
outweigh words, many a strict Pharisee may wish he could change places with
the man whose memory the poor devoutly bless. As W. A. Croffut has written
of James Baker in "The Mine at Calumet":
"'Perfess'? He didn't perfess. He bed
One simple way all through
He merely practiced an' he sed
That that wud hev to do.
' Under conviction' ? The idee !
He never done a thing
To be convicted fer. Why, he
Wuz straighter than a string."
Seventy-five wells were drilled on Hamilton McClintock's four-hundred
acres in 1860-1. Here was Gary's "oil-spring" and expectations of big wells
soared high. The best yielded from one-hundred to three-hundred barrels a
day. Low prices and the war led to the abandonment of the smaller brood.
A company bought the farm in 1864. McClintockville, a promising village on
the flat, boasted two refineries, stores, a hotel and the customary accessories, of
which the bridge over Oil Creek is the sole reminder. Near the upper boundary
of the farm the Reno Railroad crossed the valley on a giddy center- trestle and
timber abutments, not a splinter of which remains. General Burnside, the dis-
tinguished commander, superintended the construction of this mountain-line,
designed to connect Reno and Pithole and never completed. Occasionally the
dignified general would be hailed by a soldier who had served under him. It
was amusing to behold a greasy pumper, driller or teamster step up, clap Burn-
side on the shoulder, grasp his hand and exclaim : " Hello, General ! Deuced
glad to see you ! I was with you at Fredericksburg ! Come and have a drink !"
The Clapp farm of five-hundred acres had a fair allotment of long-lived
THE VALLEY OF PETROLEUM. 153
wells. George H. Bissell and Arnold Plumer bought the lower naif, in the
closing days of 1859, from Ralph Clapp. The Cornplanter Oil Company pur-
chased the upper half. The Hemlock, Cuba, Cornwall a thousand-barreler
and Cornplanter, on the latter section, were notably productive. The Williams,
Stanton, McKee, Elizabeth and Star whooped it up on the Bissell-Plumer divi-
sion. Much of the oil in 1862-3 was from the second sand. Four refineries
flourished and the tract coined money for its owners. A mile east was the pro-
lific Shaw farm, which put two-hundred-thousand dollars into Foster W. Mitch-
ell's purse. Graff & Hasson's one-thousand acres, part of the land granted
Cornplanter in 1796, had a multitude of medium wells that produced year after
year. In 1818 the Indian chief, who loved fire-water dearly, sold his reservation
to William Connely, of Franklin, and William Kinnear, of Centre county, for
twenty-one-hundred-and-tvventy-one dollars. Matthias Stockberger bought
Connely's half in 1824 and, with Kinnear and Reuben Noyes, erected the Oil-
Creek furnace, a foundry, mill, warehouses and steamboat-landing at the east
side of the mouth of the stream. William and Frederick Crary acquired the
business in 1825 and ran it ten years. William and Samuel Bell bought it in
1835 and shut down the furnace in 1849. The Bell heirs sold it to Graff, Hasson
& Co. in 1856 for seven-thousand dollars. James Hasson located on the prop-
erty with his family and farmed five years. Graff & Hasson sold three-hundred
acres in 1864 to the United Petroleum Farms Association for seven-hundred-and-
fifty-thousand dollars. James Halyday settled on the east side in 1803. His
son Tames, the first white baby in the neighborhood, was born in 1809. The
Bannon family came in the forties, Thomas Moran built the Moran House it
still lingers in 1845 and died in 1857. Dr. John Nevins arrived in 1850 and in
the fall of 1852 John P. Hopewell started a general store. Hiram Gordon
opened the "Red Lion Inn," Samuel Thomas shod horses and three or four
families occupied small habitations. And this was the place, when 1860 dawned,
that was to become the petroleum-metropolis and be known wherever men
have heard a word of " English as she is spoke."
Cornplanter was the handle of the humble settlement, towards which a
stampede began with the first glimmer of spring. To trace the uprising of
dwellings, stores, wharves and boarding-houses would be as difficult as per-
petual motion. People huddled in shanties and lived on barges moored to the
bank. Derricks peered up behind the houses, thronged the marshy flats, con-
gregated on the slopes, climbed the precipitous bluffs and established a foothold
on every ledge of rock. Pumping-wells and flowing-wells scented the atmos-
phere with gas and the smell of crude. Smoke from hundreds of engine-houses,
black, sooty and defiling, discolored the grass and foliage. Mud was every-
where, deep, unlimited, universal yellow mud from the newer territory dark,
repulsive, oily mud around the wells sticky, tricky, spattering mud on the
streets and in the yards. J. B. Reynolds, of Clarion county, and Calvin and
William J. McComb, of Pittsburg, opened the first store under the new order of
things in March of 1860. T. H. and William M. Williams joined the firm. They
withdrew to open the Pittsburg store next door. Robson's hardware-store was
farther up the main street, on the east side, which ended abruptly at Cottage
Hill. William P. Baillee he lives in Detroit and William Janes built the first
refinery, on the same street, in 1861, a year of unexampled activity. The plant,
which attracted people from all parts of the country Mr. Baillee called it a
" pocket-still" was enlarged into a refinery of five stills, with an output of two-
hundred barrels of refined oil every twenty-four hours. Fire destroyed it and
154
SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
the firm built another on the flats near by. On the west side, at the foot of a
steep cliff, Dr. S. S. Christy opened a drug-store. Houses, shops, offices, hotels
and saloons hung against the side of the hill or sat loosely on heaps of earth by
cifT
REYNOLDS
MAIN STREKT, EAST SIDE Ol' OIL CREEK, OIL CITY, IN lS6l.
the creek and river. One evening a half-dozen congenial spirits met in Williams
& Brother's store. J. B. Reynolds, afterwards a banker, who died several years
since, thought Cornplanter ought to be discarded and a new name given the
growing town. He suggested one which was heartily approved. Liquid re-
freshments were ordered and the infant was appropriately baptized OIL CITY.
Peter Graff was laid to rest years ago. The venerable James Hasson sleeps
in the Franklin cemetery. His son, Captain William Hasson, is an honored
resident of the city that owes much to his enterprise and liberality. Capable,
broad-minded and trustworthy, he has been earnest in promoting the best inter-
ests of the community, the region and the state. A recent benefaction was his
splendid gift of a public park forty acres on Cottage Hill. He was the first
burgess and served with conspicuous ability in the council and the legislature.
Alike as a producer, banker, citizen, municipal officer and lawgiver, Captain
Hasson has shown himself "every inch a manly man."
When you talk of any better town than Oil City, of any better section than
the oil-regions, of any better people than the oilmen, of any better state than
Pennsylvania, "every potato winks its eye, every cabbage shakes its head,
every beet grows red in the face, every onion gets stronger, every sheaf of grain
is shocked, every stalk of rye strokes its beard, every hill of corn pricks up its
ears, every foot of ground kicks " and every tree barks in indignant dissent.
Such was the narrow ravine, nowhere sixty rods in width, that figured so
grandly as the Valley of Petroleum.
A SPLASH ON OIL CREEK.
The dark mud of Oil Creek ! Unbeautiful mud,
That couldn't and wouldn't be nipped in the bud !
Quite irreclaimable,
Wholly untamable ;
There it was, not a doubt of it,
People couldn't keep out of it ;
On all sides they found it,
So deep none dare sound it
No way to get 'round it.
To their necks babies crept in it,
To their chins big men stept in it ;
Ladies bless the sweet martyrs !
Plung'd far over their garters ;
Girls had no exemption,
Boys sank past redemption ;
To their manes horses stall'd in it,
To their ear-tips mules sprawl'd in it !
It couldn't be chain'd off,
It wouldn't be drain'd off;
It couldn't be tied up,
It wouldn't be dried up ;
It couldn't be shut down,
It wouldn't be cut down.
Riders gladly abroad would have shipp'd it,
Walkers gladly at home would have skipp'd it.
Frost bak'd it,
Heat cak'd it ;
To batter wheels churned it,
To splashes rains turned it,
Bad teamsters gol-durned it !
Each snow-flake and dew-drop, each shower and flood
Just seem'd to infuse it with lots of fresh blood,
Increasing production,
Increasing the ruction,
Increasing the suction !
Ev'ry flat had its fill of it,
Ev'ry slope was a hill of it,
Ev'ry brook was a rill of it ;
Ev'ry yard had three feet of it,
Ev'ry road was a sheet of it ;
Ev'ry farm had a field of it,
Ev'ry town had a yield of it.
No use to glare at it,
No use to swear at it ;
No use to get mad about it,
No use to feel sad about it ;
No use to sit up all night scheming
Some intricate form of blaspheming ;
No use in upbraiding
You had to go wading,
Till wearied humanity,
Run out of profanity,
Found rest in insanity ;
Or winged its bright way unless dropp'd with a thud-
To the land of gold pavements and no Oil-Creek mud :
z
It
ILJ u
> I
B- 5
O IS
5*
C a
t/]
VIII.
PICKING RIPE CHERRIES.
JUICY STREAKS BORDERING OIL CREEK FAMOUS BENNINGHOFF ROBBERY
CLOSE CALL FOR A FORTUNE CITY SET UPON A HILL ALEMAGOOSELUM
TO THE FRONT CHERRY RUN'S WHIRLIGIG ROMANCE OF THE REED
WELL SMITH AND MCFATE FARMS PLEASANTVILLE, SHAMBURG AND RED
HOT EXPERIENCES NOT UNWORTHY OF THE ARABIAN NIGHTS.
' Who can view the ripened rose, nor seek to wear it?" Byron.
' Black's not so black, nor white so very white." Canning.
' Wild and eerie is the story, but it is true as Truth." Hall Came.
' No two successes ever were alike." Hawthorne.
'There is nothing so great as the collection of the minute." I'itus Auctor.
"The toad beneath the harrow knows
Exactly where each tooth-point goes." Kipling.
' The crop is always greater on the lands of another." Ovid.
' It didn't rain, the water simply fell out of the clouds." Cy H'arnian.
4 There are days when every stream is Pachlus and every man is Croesus."
Richard Le Gallienne.
" We shall not fail, if we stand firm." Abraham Lincoln.
LCH pickings, luscious as the
clustering grapes beyond
the fox's reach, were not
limited to the wonderful
Valley of Petroleum. Live
operators quickly learned
that big wells could
be found away from
the low banks of Oil
Creek. Anon they
climbed the hills, as-
cended the ravines
and invaded the near
townships. Very na-
turally the tributary
streams were favored
at first, until experi-
ence inspired cour-
age and altitude fail-
ed to be a serious
obstacle. In this way
many juicy streaks were encountered, broadening men's ideas and the area of
profitable developments to a marvelous degree. Alaska nuggets are fly-specks
compared with the golden spoil garnered from oil-wells on scores of farms in
Allegheny, Cherrytree and Cornplanter. Tales of the petroleum-seesaw's ups
and downs, without any "mixture rank of midnight weeds" that savor of
157
i 5 8 SKETCPIES IN CRUDE-OIL.
"something rotten in Denmark," need no Klondyker's imagination, measure-
less as the ice-floes of the Yukon, to awaken interest and be worthy of attention.
By the side of the romance, the pathos, the tragedy and the startling inci-
dents of the oil-regions thirty years ago the gold-excitements of California and
Australia and the diamond-fever of South Africa are tame and vapid. Prior
to the oil-development settlers in the back -townships lived very sparingly.
Children grew up simple-minded and untutored. The sale of a pig or a calf
or a turkey was an event looked forward to for months. Petroleum made not
a few of these rustics wealthy. Families that had never seen ten dollars sud-
denly owned hundreds-of-thousands. Lawless, reckless, wicked communities
sprang up. The close of the war flooded the region with paper-currency and
bold adventurers. Leadville or Cheyenne at its zenith was a camp-meeting
compared with Pithole, Petroleum Centre or Babylon. Men and women of
every degree of decency and degradation huddled as closely as the pig-tailed
Celestials in Chinatown. Millions of dollars were lost in bogus stock-com-
panies. American history records no other such era of riotous extravagance.
The millionaire and the beggar of to-clay might change places to-morrow.
Blind chance and consummate rascality were equally potent. Of these centers
of sin and speculation, strange transformations and wild excesses, scarcely a
trace remains. Where hosts of fortune-seekers and devotees of pleasure strove
and struggled nothing is to be seen save the bare landscape, a growth of under-
brush or a grassy field. Sodom was not blotted out more completely than Pit-
hole, the type of many oil-towns that have been utterly exterminated.
North and west of the lower McElhenny farm, at the bend in Oil Creek,
lay John Benninghoff's two big blocks of land, through which Benninghoff Run
flowed southward. Pioneer Run crossed the north-east corner of the property,
the greater part of which was on the hills. Five acres on Oil Creek and the
slopes on Pioneer Run were first developed. Leases for a cash-bonus and
liberal royalty were gobbled greedily. Up Benninghoff Run and back of the
hills operations spread. For one piece of ground the owner declined tempting
offers, because he would not permit his potato-patch to be trodden down !
Some wells pumped and some flowed from twenty-five to three-hundred barrels
a day seven days in the week. William Jenkins, the Huidekoper Oil-Com-
pany, the DeKalb Oil-Company and Edward Harkins had regular bonanzas.
The Lady Herman, which Robert Herman had the politeness to name for his
wife, was a genuine beauty. The first well ever cased and the first pump-
station it hoisted oil to Shaffer were on the hillside at the mouth of Benning-
hoff Run. The platoon of wells in the illustration of that locality, as they
appeared in 1866, includes these and a hint of the barn beside the homestead.
The busy scene pictured now for the first time was photographed within an
hour of its obliteration. The artist had not finished packing his outfit when
lightning struck one of the derricks and a disastrous fire swept the hill as bare
as Old Mother Hubbard's cupboard ! Wealth deluged the thrifty land-holder,
oil converting his broad acres into a veritable Golconda. He awoke one morn-
ing to find himself rich. He was awakened one night to find himself famous,
the newspapers devoting whole pages under "scare-heads" to the unpre-
tending farmer in the southern end of Cherry tree. ' ' And thereby hangs a tale. ' '
Suspicious of banks, Benninghoff stored his money at home. Purchasing a
cheap safe, he placed it in a corner of the sitting-room and stocked it with a half-
million dollars in gold and greenbacks ! Cautious friends warned him to be
careful, lest thieves might "break through and steal." James Saeger. of Sae-
PICKING RIPE CHERRIES. 159
gertown, a handsome, popular young fellow, who sometimes played cards, heard
of the treasure in the flimsy receptacle. "Jim" belonged to a respectable
family and had been a merchant at Meadville. Napoleon melted silver statues
of the apostles to put the precious metal in circulation and Saeger concluded to
give BenninghofTs pile an airing. He spoke to George Miller of the ease with
which the safe could be cracked and engaged two Baltimore burglars, McDonald
and Elliott, to manage the job. Jacob Shoppert, of Saegertown, and Henry
Geiger. who worked for Benninghoff and slept in the house, were enlisted.
The deed, planned with extreme care not to miss fire, was fixed for a night
when Joseph Benninghoff, the son, was to attend a dance.
On Thursday evening, January sixteenth, 1868, Saeger, Shoppert, McDonald
and Elliott left Saegertown in a two-horse sleigh for Petroleum Centre, twenty-
nine miles distant. At midnight they knocked at Benninghorf's door. Geiger
answered the rap and was quickly gagged, said to be as arranged previously.
John Benninghoff, his wife and daughter were bound and the experts proceeded
to open the safe. The frail structure was soon ransacked. The marauders
bundled up their booty, sampled Mrs. BenninghofPs pies, drank a gallon of
milk and departed at their leisure, leaving the inmates of the house securely
tied. Joseph returned in an hour or two and relieved the prisoners from their
unpleasant predicament. An examination of the safe showed that two-hundred-
and-sixty-five-thousand dollars had been taken ! The bulk of this was in gold.
A package of two-hundred-thousand dollars, in large bills, done up in a brown
paper, the looters passed unnoticed ! The alarm was given, the wires flashed
the news everywhere and the press teemed with sensational reports. By noon
on Friday the oil-regions had been set agog and people all over the United
States were talking of "the Great Benninghoff Robbery."
Saegar and his pals drove back and stopped at Louis Warlde's hotel to
divide the spoils. McDonald, Elliott and Saeger took the lion's share, Geiger
and Shoppert received smaller sums and Warlde accepted thirteen-hundred
dollars for his silence. The Baltimore toughs lingered in the neighborhood a
week and then sought the wintry climate of Canada, Saeger staying around
home. Intense excitement prevailed. Hundreds of detectives, eager to gain
reputation and the reward of ten-thousand dollars, spun theories and looked
wise. Ex-Chief-of-Police Hague, of Pittsburg, was especially alert. For three
months the search was vain. George Miller, whom- McDonald wished to put
out of the road "to keep his mouth shut," in a quarrel with Saeger over a
game of cards, blurted out : "I know about the Benninghoff robbery !" Saeger
pacified Miller with a thousand dollars, which the latter scattered quickly.
Jacob Shoppert was his boon companion and the pair spent money at a rate
that caused officers to shadow them. Shoppert visited a town on the edge of
Ohio and was arrested. Calling for a pen and paper, he wrote to Louis Warlde,
the Saegertown hotel-keeper, reproaching him for not sending money. The
jailer handed the detectives the letter, on the strength of which Warlde, who
had started a brewery in Ohio, and Miller were arrested. The three were con-
victed and sentenced to a short term in the penitentiary. Geiger's complicity
in the plot could not be proved beyond a doubt and he was acquitted. Officer
Hague captured McDonald and Elliott in Toronto, but Canadian lawyers picked
flaws in the papers and they could not be extradited. Escaping to Europe,
they were heard of no more. Saeger, who had not been suspected until after
his departure, went west and was lost sight of for many a day.
Three years later a noted cattle king of the Texas- Colorado trail entered a
160 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
saloon in Denver to treat a party of friends. The bar-tender, Gus. Peiflee,
formerly of Meadville, recognized the customer as "Jim." Saeger. He tele-
graphed east and Chief-of-Police Rouse, of Titusville, posted off to Denver
with Joseph Benninghoff. They secured extradition-papers and arrested Saeger,
who coolly remarked ; " You'll be a devilish sight older before you see me in
Pennsylvania." Their lawyers informed them that a hundred of Saeger's cow-
boys were in the city reckless, lawless fellows, certain to kill whoever
attempted to take him away. Rouse and Benninghoff dropped the matter and
returned alone. Saeger is living in Texas, prosperous and respected. He is
just in his dealings, a bountiful giver, and not long ago sent five-thousand
dollars to the widow of George Miller. Perhaps he may yet turn up in Wash-
ington as Congressman or United-States Senator. This is the story of a robbery
that attracted more attention than the first woman in bloomers.
John Benninghoff was born in Lehigh county, where his ancesters were
among the first German immigrants, on Christmas Day, 1801. His father,
Frederick Benninghoff, settled near New Berlin, Union county, in John's boy-
hood. There the son married Elizabeth Heise in 1825 and in 1828 located on a
farm near Oldtown, Clearfield county. Thence he removed to Venango county
living close to Cherry tree village four years. In 1836 he bought a piece of land
on the south border of Cherrytree township, near what was to become Petro-
leum Centre. He added to his purchase as his means permitted, until he owned
about three-hundred acres, with solid buildings and modern improvements.
He was in easy circumstances prior to the oil-developments that enriched him.
Contrary to the general opinion, the robbery did not impoverish him, as one-
half the money was untouched. His twelve children eight boys and four girls
grew up and eight are still living. Selling his farms in Venango, he removed
to Greenville, Mercer county, in the spring of 1868 and died in March, 1882.
At his death he had sixty-one grandchildren and fifteen great-grandchildren.
He left his family a large estate. The Benninghoff farms, so far as oil is con-
cerned, are utterly deserted.
West and north of Benninghoff were the farms of John and R. Stevenson.
On the former, extending south to Oil Creek, Reuben Painter, a live operator,
drilled a well in 1863. The contractor reporting it dry, Painter moved the ma-
chinery and surrendered the lease. He and his brothers operated profitably in
Butler and McKean counties, Reuben dying at Olean in 1892. In November of
1864 the Ocean Oil-Company of Philadelphia bought John Stevenson's lands.
The Ocean well began flowing at a six-hundred-barrel pace on September first,
1865, with the Arctic a good second. Fifty others varied from fifty to two-
hundred barrels. Thomas McCool built a refinery and the farm paid the
company about two-thousand per cent ! The principal wells on both Steven-
son tracts clustered far above the flats, the derricks and buildings resembling
"a city set on a hill." Major Mills, justly proud of his King of the Hills, an
elegant producer, delighted to visit it with his wife and two young daughters,
one of them now Mrs. John D. Archbold, of New York. Painter's supposed
dry-hole, drilled seventeen feet deeper, gushed furiously, proving to be the best
well in the collection ! Said the Ocean manager, as he watched the oily stream
ascend " higher 'n a steeple": " A million dollars wouldn't touch one side of
this property!" Sinking a four-inch hole seventeen feet farther would have
given Reuben Painter this splendid return two years earlier! He missed a
million dollars by only seventeen feet ! A Gettysburg soldier, from whose nose
a rifle-ball shaved a piece of cuticle the size of a pin-head, wittily observed :
PICKING RIPE CHERRIES.
161
''That shot came mighty near missing me ! " Inverting this remark, Painter
had cause to exclaim : "That million came mighty near hitting me ! "
" A miss is as good as a mile."
Various companies bored three-hundred wells on Cherrytree Run and its
tiny branches without jarring the trade particularly. Prolific strikes on the
WELLS ON THE NIAGARA TRACT, CHERRYTREE RUN.
Niagara tract, in the rear of the Benninghoff lands, added to the wealth of
Phillips Brothers. Kane City, two miles north of Rynd, raised Cain in mild
style, " wearing like leather." Farther back D. W. Kenney's wells, lively as the
Kilkenny cats, stirred a current that wafted in Alemagooselum City. Its
unique name, the biggest feature of the " City," was worked out by Kenney, a
fun-loving genius, known far and wide as "Mayor of Alemagooselum." He and
his wells and town have long been " out of sight." Kane City casts an attenu-
ated shadow.
Rev. William Elliott, who united in one package the fervor of Paul and the
snap of Ebenezer Elliott, ' ' the Corn-Law Rhymer, " lived and preached at Rynd.
He organized a Sunday-school in Kenney's parish, which a devout settler under-
took to superintend. At the close of the regular service on the opening day,
Mr. Elliott asked the pious ruralist to "say a few words." The good man,
wishing to clinch the lesson about Mary Magdalene in the minds of the
youngsters, implored them to follow the example of "Miss Magdolin." The
older brood tittered at this Hibernianism, the laugh swelled into a cloudburst.
Mr. Elliott nearly swallowed his pocket-handkerchief trying to shut in his smiles
and a new query was born, which had a long run. It was fired at every visitor
to the settlement. Small boys hurled it at the defenceless superintendent, who
resigned his job and broke up the school
the next Sunday. Possiby Br'er Elliott,
when ushered into Heaven, would not
be one whit surprised to hear some white-
winged cherub from Alemagooselum
sing out : ' ' Say, do you know Miss Mag
Dolin?"
The scanty herbage on the tail of the
parson's horse gave rise to endless sur-
mises. The animal stranded in a mud-
hole and keeled over on his side. Four
sturdy fellows tried to fish him out. In
his misguided zeal one of the rescuers,
tugging at the caudal appendage, pulled
so hard that half the hair peeled off,
leaving the denuded nag a fitting mate
for Tarn O'Shanter's tailless Meg.
A Kane-City youngster prayed FISHING OUT THE PREACHER'S HORSE.
162
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
every morning and night that a well her father was drilling would be a good one.
It was a hopeless failure, finished the day before Christmas. The result dis-
turbed the child exceedingly. That night, as the loving mother was preparing
her for bed, the little girl observed : " I dess it's no use prayin' till after Kis-
mas, 'cos God's so busy helpin' Santa Claus He hasn't time for nobody else ! "
Cherry Run, once the ripest cherry in the orchard, had a satisfactory run.
A spice of romance flavored its actual realities. Not two miles up the stream
William Reed, in 1863, drilled a dry-hole six-hundred feet deep. Two miles
farther, in the vicinity of Plumer, a test well was sunk seven-hundred feet, with
no better result. Wells near the mouth of the ravine produced very lightly.
Fifty-thousand dollars would have been an extreme price for all the land from
Rouseville to Plumer, the tasteful village Henry McCalmont named in honor of
Arnold Plumer. In May of 1864 Taylor & Rockwell opened a fresh vein on the
run. At two-hundred feet their well threw oil above the derrick and flowed
sixty barrels a day regularly. Operators reversed their opinion of the territory.
To the surprise of his acquaintances, who deemed him demented, Reed started
another well four rods below his failure of the previous year. It was on the
right bank of the run, on a five-acre patch bought from John Rynd in 1861 by
Thomas Duff, who sold two acres to Robert Criswell. Reed was not over-
stocked with cash and Criswell joined forces with him to sink the second well.
I. N. Frazer took one-third interest. At the proper depth the outlook was
gloomy. The sand appeared good, but days of pumping failed to bring oil.
PICKING RIPE CHERRIES. 163
On July eighteenth, 1864, the well commenced flowing three-hundred barrels a
day, holding out at this rate for months. Criswell realized thirty-thousand dol-
lars from his share of the oil and then sold his one-fourth interest in the land
and well for two-hundred-and-eighty-thousand to the Mingo Oil-Company. He
operated in the Butler field, lived at Monterey, removed to Ohio and died near
Cincinnati. One son, David S., a well-known producer, resides at Oil City;
another, Robert W., is on the editorial staff of a New- York daily. Frazer sold
for one-hundred-thousand dollars and next loomed up as "the discoverer of
Pithole." Reed sold to Bishop & Bissell for two-hundred-thousand dollars,
after pocketing seventy-five-thousand from oil. Coming to Venango county
with Frederic Prentice in 1859, he drilled wells by contract, sometimes "a solid
Muldoon " and sometimes ' ' a broken Reed." He returned east his birthplace
with the proceeds of the world-famed well bearing his name. An idea haunted
him that Captain Kidd's treasure was buried at a certain part of the Atlantic
coast. He boarded at a house on the shore and hunted land and sea for the
hidden deposit. He would dig in the sand, sail out some distance and peer into
the water. One day he went off in his skiff, a storm arose, the boat drifted
away and that was the last ever seen of William Reed. He was a liberal sup-
porter of the United-Presbyterian church and his nearest relatives live in the
vicinity of Pittsburg.
The Reed well put Cherry Run at the head of the procession. Within sixty
days it enriched Reed, Criswell and Frazer nearly seven-hundred-thousand dol-
lars. The new owners drilled three more on the same acre, getting back every
cent of their purchase-money and fifty per cent, extra for good measure. In
other words, the five-acre collection of rocks and stumps, with eleven producing
wells and one duster, harvested two-million dollars ! The Mountain well
mounted high, the Phillips & Egbert was a fillip and the Wadsworth & Wyn-
koop rolled out oil in wads worth a wine-coop of gold-eagles. The fever to
lease or buy a spot to plant a derrick burned fiercely. The race to gorge the
ravine with rigs and drilling appliances would shut out Edgar Saltus in his
"Pace that Kills." Soon three-hundred wells lined the flats and lofty banks
guarding the purling streamlet. Clanking tools, wheezy engines and creaking
pumps assailed the ears. Smoke from a myriad soft-coal fires attacked the eyes.
An endless cavalcade of wagons churned the soil into vicious batter. The activ-
ities of the Foster, McElhenny, Farrell, Davisonand Tarr farms were condensed
into one surging, foaming caldron, quickening the pulse-beats and sending the
brain see-sawing.
Across the run the Curtin Oil-Company farmed out forty acres. The Baker
well, an October biscuit, flowed one-hundred barrels a day all the winter of
1864-5 and pumped six years. Water, bane of flannel-suits and uncased oil-
wells, deluged it and its neighbors. Hugh Cropsey, a New- York lawyer and last
owner of the well nearest the Baker, " ran engine," saved a trifle, pulled up
stakes in 1869 and tried his luck at Pleasantville. Returning to Cherry Run, he
resuscitated a well on the hill and was suffocated by gas in a tank containing a
few inches of fresh crude. His heirs sold me the old well, which pumped nine
months without varying ten gallons in any week and repaid twice its cost.
Unchangeable as the laws of the Medes and Persians, its production was the
steadiest in the chronicles of grease. One Saturday evening N. P. Stone, super-
intendent of the St. Nicholas Oil-Company, bought it from me at the original
price. His men took charge of it at noon on Tuesday. At five o'clock the well
quit forever, "too dead to skin !" Cleaning out, drilling deeper, casing, torpe-
164 SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
doing and weeks of pumping could not persuade it to shed another drop of oil
or water. This close shave was a small by-play in a realistic drama teeming
with incidents far stranger than "The Strange Adventures of Miss Brown."
B. H. Hulseman, president of the St. Nicholas Oil-Company, was a wealthy
leather-merchant in Philadelphia. He spent much of his time on Cherry Run,
lost heavily in speculations, entered the oil-exchange and died at Oil City.
Kind-hearted, sincere and unpretending, his good remembrance is a legacy to
cherish lovingly.
" Nothing in his life
Became him like the leaving it ; he died
As one who had been studied in his death,
To throw away the dearest thing he owned,
As 'twere a careless trifle.''
Two-hundred yards above the Baker a half-dozen wells crowded upon a half-
acre. True to its title, the Vampire sucked the life-blood from its pal and pro-
duced bounteously. The Munson, owned by the first sacrifice to nitro-glycerine,
sustained the credit of its environment. The Wade was the star-performer of
the group. James Wade, an Ohio teamster, earned money hauling oil. Con-
cluding to wade in, he secured a bantam lease and engaged Thomas Donnelly
to drill a well. It surpassed the Reed, flowing four-hundred barrels a day at the
start. Frank Allen, agent of a gilt-edged New- York company, rode from Oil
City to see a well described to him as "livelier than chasing a greased pig at a
county-fair." His exalted conceptions of petroleum befitted the representative
of a company capitalized at three-millions, in which August Belmont, Russell
Sage and William B. Astor were said to be stockholders. The fuming, gassing
stream of oil suited him to a t. "I'll give you three-hundred-thousand dollars
for it," he said to Wade, whom the offer well-nigh paralyzed. The two men
went into the grocery close by, Wade signed a transfer of the well and Allen
handed him a New- York draft. The happiest being in the pack, Wade packed
his carpet-bag, hitched his horses to the wagon, bade the boys good-bye and
drove to Oil City to get the paper cashed. He wore greasy clothes and did not
wear the air of a millionaire. ' ' Is Mr. Bennett in ?" he asked a clerk at the bank.
" Naw ; what do you want?" was the reply. " I want a draft cashed." "Oh,
you do, eh? I guess I can cash it !" The clerk's haughty demeanor fell below
zero upon beholding the draft. He invited Wade to be seated. Mr. Bennett,
the urbane cashier, returned in a few moments. The bank hadn't half the cur-
rency to meet the demand on the instant. Wade left directions to forward the
money to his home in Ohio, where he and his faithful steeds landed two days
later. He bought fine farms for his brothers and himself, invested two-hundred-
thousand dollars in government-bonds and wisely enjoyed, amid the peaceful
scenes of agricultural life, the fruits of his first and last oil-venture. Few have
been as sensible, for the petroleum-coast is encrusted with financial wrecks
vast fortunes amassed only to be lost on the perilous sea of speculation. The
world has heard of the prizes in the lottery of oil, while the blanks tenfold
more numerous are glossed over by the glamour of the Sherman, Empire,
Noble, Phillips, Reed and other wells, "familiar as household words."
Thomas Johnson, of Oil City, held one-eighth of the Curtin interest and
Patrick Johnson had a bevy of patrician wells at the summit of the tallest hill
in the valley. The curtain has been rung down, the lights are out, the players
have dispersed and none can hint of "Too Much Johnson." The farm of sixty
acres adjacent to the Curtin and the Criswell nook Hamilton McClintock traded
to Daniel Smith in 1858 for a yoke of oxen. Smith sold it in 1860 for five-hun-
PICKING RIPE CHERRIES.
165
dred dollars and sank the cash in a dry-hole on Oil Creek. P. P. Cornen and
Henry I. Beers bought the farm in 1863 for twenty-five-hundred dollars, clearing
two-millions from the investment. Cornen served as State-Senator in Connecti-
cut and died in 1893. His sons operate
in Warren county and down the Alle-
gheny. Mr. Beers, who settled at
McClintockville, for thirty years has
been prominent in business and poli-
tics. He was a California argonaut,
spent three years in San Francisco,
built the first house in that city after
the first great fire and revisited the
East to marry ' ' the girl he left behind
him" in 1849. The Yankee well, er-
ratic as George Francis Train, was the
first glory of the Smith tract. The j "-
Reed caused a rush for one-acre leases
at four-thousand-dollars bonus and half the oil. Picking up gold-dollars at
every step would have been less lucrative. The wells were stayers and Daniel
Smith was no i "a Daniel come to judgment" in his estimate of the farm he
implored J. W. Sherman to buy for two-hundred-and-fifty dollars.
Cornen & Beers first leased a half-dozen plots six rods square at one-halt
royalty. Two New-Englanders and Cyrus A. Cornen, son of Peter P. Cornen
and nephew of Mr. Beers, drilled the first well, the queer Yankee. Some gas
and no oil looked promising for a dry-hole, but the owners put in small tubing
and pumped a plump day. They decided to draw the tubing, seed-bag higher
and try it once more for luck. The tubing had been raised only a foot when
the well flowed ' ' like Mount Vesuvius spilling lava. ' ' The flow lasted five min-
utes, stopped twenty, flowed five more, stopped twenty and kept up this pro-
gram regularly twenty-one months. Sixty barrels a day was the average yield
month after month, until one day the Yankee concluded to retire from active
duty. Much of its product sold at ten to thirteen dollars a barrel, enriching all
concerned. The Yankee boomed the crush for leases and was altogether a
tempting plum. The Auburn, the second well on the Smith farm, was a good
second to the Yankee, the Gromiger and Cattaraugus traveled in the one-hun-
dred-and-fifty-barrel class, while the Watkins toed the two-hundred mark, with
the Aazin and Fry chasing it closely.
S. S. Watkins, who died at St. Paul in the fall of 1896, was given a lot for
a grocery, with the privilege of sinking one well for half the oil. He opened
the store and sold the oil-right to Wade Brothers for twenty-five-hundred dol-
lars. The Wades sold one-eighth of the working-interest to the Pittsburg Pe-
troleum-Company, used the proceeds to drill the hole and stuck the tools in the
third sand. The lookout for a paying strike was exceedingly poor, but James
Wade held on and tubed the well above the tools. It flowed three-hundred
barrels a day and Wade sold his seven-eighths to Frank Allen, who offered the
Pittsburg Petroleum-Company seventy-five-thousand dollars for its eighth.
When the Wade declined to fifty barrels the company pulled the tubing, moved
the derrick three feet and drilled another, with no better result. Thereupon
the Wade was abandoned, after having netted the Great- Republic Oil-Company
a quarter-million dead loss. In 1864 Cornen & Beers organized the Cherry-
Valley Oil-Company, sold twelve or fifteen leases and put down all the other
12
166 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
wells themselves. The partnership dissolved in 1876, Mr. Beers maintaining
the farm and Mr. Cornen dying at his Connecticut home in 1893. The Smith
rated among the best properties in the region and it still rewards its fortunate
owner with a moderate production, although merely a shadow of its former
greatness.
Blacklegs, thieves and murderers ran little risk of punishment in the early
days of oil-developments, unless they became unusually obstreperous and were
brought to a period with a shot-gun. Scoundrels lay in wait for victims at
every turn and stories of their misdeeds could be told by the hundred. The
Me Fate farm was one of the first on Cherry Run to be sold at a fancy price.
S. J. McFate, one of the brothers owning the property, two weeks after the
sale in 1862, walked down to Oil City to draw several-thousand dollars from the
bank. He displayed the money freely and left for home late at night. The
road was dark and lonely and next morning, in a clump of bushes a mile above
Oil City, his lifeless body was discovered. A ghastly wound in the head and
the absence of the money explained the tragedy and the motive. No clue to
the murderer was ever found, although squads of detectives ' ' worked on the
case" and queer fictions regarding the mysterious assassin were printed in
many newspapers.
Queerly enough, the farms above the Smith were failures. Hundreds of
wells clear up to Plumer never paid the expense of recording the leases. The
territory was a roast for scores of stock-companies. Below Plumer a mile Bruns
& Ludovici, of New York, built the Humboldt Refinery in 1862. Money was
lavished on palatial quarters for the managers, enclosed grounds, cut-stone
walls, a pipe-line to Tarr Farm and the largest refining capacity in America.
Inconvenient location and improved methods of competitors forced the Hum-
boldt to retire. Part of the machinery was removed, the structures crumbled
and some of the dressed stone forms the foundations of the National Transit
Building at Oil City. Plumer, which had a grist-mill, store, blacksmith-shop
and tavern in 1840 and four-thousand population in 1866, is quiet as its briar-
grown graveyard. The Brevoort Oil-Company, Murray & Fawcett and John P.
Zane raked in shekels on Moody Run, which emptied into Cherry Run a half-
mile south-west of the Reed well. Zane, whole-souled, resolute and manly,
operated in the northern district and died at Brad-
ford in 1894. A "forty-niner," he supported John
W. Geary for Mayor of San Francisco, built street-
railways and worked gold-mines in California. He
wrote on finance and petroleum, hated selfishness
and stood firmly on the platform laid down in the
beatitudes by the Man of Galilee.
"The good die first,
And ihey whose hearts are dry as summer-dust
Burn to the socket."
In the winter of 1859-60 Robert Phipps, of
Clinton township, sold a horse to D. Knapp, who
owned a farm, "between Plumer and the mouth
of Oil Creek," that extended across Cherry Run
some distance above the Smith patch. Phipps fol-
lowed up the horse-sale by paying Knapp twenty-
five dollars and one-eighth the oil for one acre of
his land. He took A. Lowry for a partner, and sent his son, Porter Phipps, and
John Haas, a German blacksmith, to " kiqk down " a well. Haas constructed
PICKING RIPE CHERRIES. 167
a set of light tools the augur stem was one-inch iron lumber for a shanty and
the rig was drawn from Hood's Mill on Pithole Creek and a forty-foot hem-
lock served as a spring-pole. Drilling began in April of 1860 at the first well
on the bank of Cherry Run. Young Phipps would carry the bit or the reamer
daily on his shoulder to be dressed at a blacksmith-shop on Hamilton McClin-
tock's farm. The work had continued three months, when one day the tools
struck a crevice at a hundred feet, a gurgling sound greeted the ears of the ex-
pectant drillers and they awaited the flow. Sulphur-water, not oil, was the
outcome and the well was abandoned. Robert Phipps "exchanged mortality
for life" at a ripe old age. His parents settled in Venango county a century
ago and the Phipps family has always been noted for intelligence and prcgres-
siveness. Porter Phipps, known everywhere as 'Squire, was reared on the farm,
had his initial tussle with oil-wells in 1860 and operated at Bullion and in Butler
county. He is Vice-president of the Monroe Oil-Company and makes Pitts-
burg his headquarters.
Two miles east of Miller-Farm station, on the eighty-acre tract of Oliver
Stowell, the Cherry-Run Petroleum-Company finished a well in February of
1866. It was eight-hundred feet deep, drilled through the sixth sand and
pumped one-hundred barrels a day. The company operated systematically,
using heavy tools, tall derricks and large casing. It was managed by Dr. G.
Shamburg, a man of character and ability, who
studied the strata carefully and gathered much
valuable data. The second well equalled No. i
in productiveness and longevity, both lasting
for years. J. B. Fink's, a July posy of two-hun-
dred barrels, was the third. The grand rush
began in December, 1867, the Fee and Jack
Brown wells, on the Atkinson farm, flowing four-
hundred barrels apiece. A lively town, eligibly
located in a depression of the table-lands, was
properly named Shamburg, as a compliment to
the genial doctor. The Tallman, Goss, Atkin-
son and Stowell farms whooped up the produc-
tion to three-thousand barrels. Frank W. and
W. C. Andrews, Lyman and Milton Stewart,
Tohn W. Irvin and F. L. Backus had bought
J DR. G. SHAMBURG.
John R. Tallman's one-hundred acres in 1865.
Their first well began producing in September, 1867, and in 1868 they sold two--
hundred-thousand barrels of oil for nearly eight-hundred-thousand dollars ! A.
H. Bronson bright, alert, keen in business and popular in society paid twenty-
five-thousand for the Charles Clark farm, a mile north-east. His first well
three-hundred barrels paid for the property and itself in sixty days. Opera-
tions in the Shamburg pool were almost invariably profitable and handsome
fortunes were realized. A peculiarity was the presence of green and black oils,
a line on the eastern part of the Cherry-Run Company's land defining them
sharply. Their gravity and general properties were identical and the black color
was attributed to oxide of iron in the rock. Dr. Shamburg died at Titusville and
the town he founded is taking a perpetual vacation.
Carl Wageforth, a genius well known in early days as one of the owners of
the Story farm, started a "town" in the woods two miles above Shamburg.
The "town" collapsed, Wageforth clung to his store a season and next turned
168 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
up in Texas as the founder of a German colony. He secured a claim in the
Lone-Star State about thrice the size of Rhode Island, settled it with thrifty im-
migrants from the " Faderland " and bagged a bushel of ducats. He made and
lost fortunes in oil and could no more be kept from breaking out occasionally
than measles or small-pox.
East of Petroleum Centre three miles, on the bank of a pellucid stream,
John E. McLaughlin drilled a well in 1868 that flowed fourteen-hundred barrels.
The sand was coarse, the oil dark and the magnitude of the strike a surprise
equal to the answer of the dying sinner who, asked by the minister if he wasn't
afraid to meet an angry God, unexpectedly replied : " Not a bit ; it's the other
chap I'm afraid of!" Excepting the half-dozen mastodons on Oil Creek, the
McLaughlin was the biggest well in the business up to that date. Wide-awake
operators struck a bee-line for leases. A town was floated in two weeks, a
Pithole grocer erecting the first building and labeling the place "Cash-Up " as
a gentle hint to patrons not to let their accounts get musty with age. The
name fitted the town, which a twelvemonth sufficed to sponge off the slate.
Small wells and dry-holes ruled the roost, even those nudging "the big 'un"
missing the pay-streak. The McLaughlin a decided freak declined gradually
and pumped seven years, having the reservoir all to itself. Located ten rods
away in any direction, it would have been a duster and Cash-Up would not have
existed ! A hundred surrounding it did not cash-up the outlay for drilling.
WELLS IN THE PLEASANTVILLE FIELD IN 1871.
Attracted by the quality of the soil and the beauty of the location six-hun-
dred feet above the level of Oil Creek and abundantly watered in 1820 Abra-
ham Lovell forsook his New York farm to settle in Allegheny township, six
miles east by south of Titusville. Aaron Benedict and Austin Merrick came
in 1821. John Brown, the first merchant, opened a store in 1833. A pottery,
tannery, ashery, store and shops formed the nucleus of a village, organized in
1850 as the borough of Pleasantville. Three wells on the outskirts of town,
bored in 1865-6, produced a trifling amount of oil. Late in the fall of 1867
Abram James, an ardent spiritualist, was driving from Pithole to Titusville with
three friends. A mile south of Pleasantville his ' ' spirit-guide ' ' assumed control
of Mr. James and humped him over the fence into a field on the William Porter
farm, Powerless to resist, the subject was hurried to the northern end of the
field, contorted violently, jerked through a species of " couchee-couchee dance"
and pitched to the ground ! He marked the spot with his finger, thrust a penny
into the dirt and fell back pale and rigid. Restored to consciousness, he told
his astonished companions it had been revealed to him that streams of oil lay
beneath and extended several miles in a certain direction. Putting no faith in
"spirits " not amenable to flasks, they listened incredulously and resumed their
PICKING RIPE CHERRIES.
169
journey. James negotiated a lease, borrowed money the "spirit-guide"
neglected to furnish cash and planted a derrick where he had planted the
penny. On February twelfth, 1868, at eight-hundred-and-fifty-feet, the Har-
monial Well No. i pumped one-hundred-and-thirty barrels !
The usual hurly-burly followed. People who voted the James adventure a
fish-story writhed and twisted to drill near the spirited Harmonial. New
strikes increased the hubbub and established the sure quality of the territory.
Scores of wells were sunk on the Porter, Brown, Tyrell, Beebe, Dunham and
other farms for mile*>. Prices of supplies advanced and machine-shops in the
oil-regions ran night and day to meet orders. Land sold at five-hundred to
five-thousand dollars an acre, often changing hands three or four times a day.
Interests in wells going down found willing purchasers. Strangers crowded
Pleasantville, which trebled its population and buildings during the year. It
was a second edition of Pithole, mildly subdued and divested of frothy sensa-
tionalism. If gigantic gushers did not dazzle, dry-holes did not discourage.
If nobody cleared a million dollars at a clip, nobody cleared out to avoid cred-
itors. Nobody had to loaf and trust to Providence for daily bread. Providence
wasn't running a bakery for the benefit of idlers and work was plentiful at
Pleasantville. The production reached three-thousand barrels in the summer
of 1868, dropping to fifteen-hundred in 1870. Three banks prospered and im-
posing brick-blocks succeeded unsubstantial frames. Fresh pastures invited
the floating mass to Clarion, Armstrong and Butler. Small wells were aban-
doned, machinery was shipped southward and the pretty village moved back-
ward gracefully. Pleasantville had "marched up the hill and then marched
down again."
Abram James, a man of fine intellect, nervous temperament and lofty prin-
ciple, lived at Pleasantville a year. He located a dozen paying wells in other
sections, under the influence of his "spirit-guide." The Harmonial was his
greatest hit, bringing him wealth and distinction. His worst break a dry-
hole on the Clarion river eighteen-hundred feet deep cost him six-thousand
dollars in 1874. None questioned his absolute sin-
cerity, although many rejected his theories of the
supernatural. Whether he is still in the flesh or has
become a spirit has not been manifested to his old
friends in Oildom.
Samuel Stewart, an old resident and prosper-
ous land-owner, is a leading citizen of Cherrytree
township. He operated successfully in his own
neighborhood and around Pleasantville. His ac-
quaintance with men and affairs is not surpassed in
Venango county. He is half-brother of Mrs. Wil-
liam R. Crawford, Franklin. Lyman and Milton
Stewart, of Titusville, have not stayed in the rear.
They drilled hundreds of wells in Pennsylvania and
invested liberally in California territory. Good men
and true are the Stewarts from beginning to end.
Red-Hot, in the palmy era of the Shamburg excitement a place of much
sultriness, is cold enough to chill any stray visitor who knew the mushroom at
its warmest stage. Windsor Brothers, of Oil City they built the Windsor
Block drilled a well in 1869 that flowed three-hundred-and fifty barrels. Others
followed rapidly, people flocked to the newest centre of attraction and a typical
SAMUEL STEWART.
17
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
oil-town strutted to the front. The territory lacked the staying quality, the
Butler region was about to dawn and 1871 saw Red-Hot reduced to three
houses, a half-dozen light wells and a muddy road. Lightning-rod pedlars,
RED-HOT, A TYPICAL OIL-TOWN, IN 1870.
Not
book-agents and medical fakirs no longer disturb its calm serenity,
scrap of the tropical town has been visible for two decades.
Tip-Top filled a short engagement. Operations around Shamburg and
Pleasantville directed attention to the Captain Lyle and neighboring farms,
midway between these points. "Ned" Pitcher's well, drilled in 1866 on the
Snedaker farm, east of Lyle, had started at eighty barrels and pumped twenty
for two years. Pithole was booming and nobody thought of Ned's pitcher
until 1868. Many of the wells produced fairly, but the territory soon depreciated
and the elevated town aptly named by a poet with an eye to the eternal fitness
of things lost its hold and glided down to nothingness. The hundred-eyed
Argus could not find a sliver that would prick a thumb or tip a top.
Picking cherries was sometimes a mixed operation in the land of grease.
OILY OOZINGS.
Kerosene is often the last scene.
The ladies God bless them ! are nothing if not consistent at times. It
used to be a fad with Bradford wives to keep a stuffed owl in the parlor for
ornament and a stuffed club in the hall for the night-owl's benefit.
The Oil-Creek girls are the dandy girls,
For their kiss is most intense;
They've got a grip like a rotary-pump
That will lift you over the fence.
The steel of a rimmer was lost in a drilling well on Cherry Run. After
fishing for it for a long time the well-owner, becoming discouraged, offered a man
one-thousand dollars to take it out. He broomed the end of a tough block,
ran it down the well attached to the tools and in ten minutes had the steel out.
The woman who eagerly seized the oil-can
And to pour kerosene in the cook-stove began,
So that people for miles to quench the fire ran,
While she spar'd aloft like a flash in the pan,
Didn't know it was loaded.
At a drilling well near Rouserille the tools were lowered on Monday morn-
ing and, after running a full screw, were drawn minus the bit, with the stem-
box greatly enlarged. After fishing several days for it the drillers were greatly
surprised to find the lost bit standing in the slack-tub. The tools had been
lowered in the darkness with no bit on.
An Oil-City tramp on the pavement drear
Saw something that seem'd to shin
He pick'd it up and gave a big cheer
' ' elbri ' '
Saw something that seem'd to shine ;
pick'd it up and gave a big cheer
'Twas a nickel bright, the price of a beer
And shouted " The world is mine !"
William McClain, grandfather of Senator S. J. M. McCarrell, Harrisburg,
once owned and occupied the Tarr farm, on Oil Creek. Fifty or more years
ago he sold the tract to James Tarr for a rifle and an old gray horse named
Diamond. McClain removed to Washington county and settled on a farm
which his son inherited and sold before oil was found in the neighborhood.
Like the Tarr farm on Oil Creek, the McClain farm in Washington county
proved a petroleum-bonanza to the purchasers.
Said a Shamburg young maiden : "Alas, Will,
You come every night,
And talk such a sight,
And burn so much light,
My papa declares you're a Gas Bill!"
All kinds of engines, from one to fifty horse-power, were used on Oil Creek
in the sixties. The old "Fabers," with direct attachment, will recall many a
broad grin. The boys called them "Long Johns." The Wallace-engine had
hemp-packing on the piston, and the inside of the cylinder, rough as a rasp,
soon used it up and leaked steam like a sieve. The Washington-engine was
the first to come into general use. C. M. Farrar, of Farrar & Trefts, whose
boilers and engines have stood every test demanded by improvements in drill-
ing, made the drawing for the first locomotive-pattern boiler on a drilling well
a wonderful stride in advance of the old-time boiler. Trefts made the cast-
ings for the engine that pumped the Drake well and was the first man, in com-
pany with J. Willard, to use ropes on Oil Creek in drilling. This was on the
Foster farm, near the world-famed Empire well, in 1860. Willard made the
second set of jars on the creek. Senator W. S. McMullan was a stalwart black-
smith, who made drilling-tools noted for their enduring quality.
^^^^!9MKL ^ /ju
IX.
A GOURD IN THE NIGHT.
THE METEORIC CITY THAT DAZZLED MANKIND FROM NOTHING TO SIXTEEN-
THOUSAND POPULATION IN THREE MONTHS FIRST WELLS AND FABULOUS
PRICES NOTED ORGANIZATIONS AT PITHOLE A FORETASTE OF HADES-
EXCITEMENT AND COLLAPSE SPECULATION RUN WILD DUPLICITY AND
DISAPPOINTMENT THE WILD SCRAMBLE FOR THE ALMIGHTY DOLLAR.
' The gourd came up in a night and perished in a night." Jonah iv: 10.
' The earth hath bubbles, as the water has." Shakespeare.
' All things rise to fall and flourish to decay." Sallust.
' A lively place in days of yore, but something ails it nov?." Wordsworth.
' Ah ! who shall lift that wand of magic power? " Longfellow.
" Wealth flowed from wood and stream and soil,
The rock poured forth its amber oil,
And, lo ! a magic city rose." Marjorie Meade.
' It went up like a rocket and came down like a stick." Thomas Paine.
' Yet golde all is not that doth golden seeme." Spenser.
' Can it be that this is all remains of life." Bryon.
' What it is to eat forbidden fruit and find it a turnip ! "Flora Annie Steel.
' Old Rhinestein's walls are crumbled now." Birch Arnold.
' For this will never hold water again."/. Fenimore Cooper.
' Of the vanished drama no image was there left." William Moms.
ITHOLE, ' ' the magic city, " had little in
its antecedents to betoken the meteoric
rise and fall of the most remarkable oil-
town that ever "went up like a rocket
and came down like a stick." The
unpoetic name of Pithole Creek was
applied to the stream which flows through
Allegheny township and bounds Corn-
planter for several miles on the east. It
empties into the Allegheny River eight
miles above Oil City and was first men-
tioned by Rev. Alfred Brunson, an itin-
erant Methodist minister, in his" Western
Pioneer ' ' in 1819. Upheavals of rock left
a series of deep pits or chasms on the hills
near the mouth of the stream. From the largest of these holes a current of warm
air repels leaves or pieces of paper. Snow melts around the cavity, which is of
unknown depth, and the air is a mephitic vapor or gas. A story is told of three
hunters who, finding the snow melted on a midwinter day, determined to investi-
gate. One of them swore it was an entrance to the infernal regions and that he
intended to warm himself. He sat on the edge of the hole, dangled his feet over
the side, thanked the devil for the opportune heat, inhaled the gas and tumbled
back insensible. His companions dragged him away and the investigation
ended summarily. Seven miles up the creek, in the northeast corner of Corn-
i73
174
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
planter, Rev. Walter Holmden was a pioneer-settler. Choosing a tract of two-
hundred acres, he built a log-house on the west bank of the creek, cleared a few
acres, struggled with poverty and died in 1840. Mr. Holmden was a fervent
Baptist preacher. Thomas Holmden occupied the farm after the good old man's
decease, with the Copelands and Blackmers and James Rooker as neighbors.
Developments had covered the farms from the Drake well to Oil City. Opera-
tors ventured up the ravines, ascended the hills and began to take chances miles
from either side of Oil Creek. Successful wells on the Allegheny River broad-
ened opinions regarding the possibilities of petroleum. Nervy men invaded the
eastern portion of Cornplanter, picking up lands along Pithole Creek and its
tributaries. I. N. Frazer, fresh from his triumph on Cherry Run as joint-owner
of the Reed well, desired fresh laurels. He organized the United-States Oil-
Company, leased part of the Holmden farm for twenty years and started a well
FRAZER WELL, ON HOLMDEN FARM, PITHOLE, IN MAY, 1865.
in the fall of 1864. The primitive derrick was reared in the woods below the
Holmden home. At six-hundred feet the "sixth sand " generally called that
at Pithole was punctured. Ten feet farther the tools proceeded, the drillers
watching intently for signs of oil. On January seventh, 1865, the torrent broke
loose, the well flowing six-hundred-and-fifty barrels a day and ceasing finally on
November tenth. A picture of the well, showing Frazer with his back to the
tree beside his horse and a group of visitors standing around, was secured in
May. Kilgore & Keenan's Twin wells, good for eight-hundred barrels, were
finished on January seventeenth and nineteenth. The unfathomable mud and
disastrous floods of that memorable season retarded the hegira from other sec-
tions, only to intensify the excitement when it found vent. Duncan & Prather
bought Holmden' s land for twenty-five-thousand dollars and divided the flats
and slopes into half-acre leases. The first of May witnessed a small clearing in
the forest, with three oil-wells, one drilling-well and three houses as its sole
evidences of human handiwork.
Ninety days later the world heard with unfeigned surprise of a "city " of
A GOURD IN THE NIGHT. I75
sixteen-thousand inhabitants, possessing most of the conveniences and luxuries
of the largest and oldest communities ! Capitalists eager to invest their green-
backs thronged to the scene. Labor and produce commanded extravagant
figures, every farm for miles was leased or bought at fabulous rates, money cir-
culated like the measles and for weeks the furore surpassed the frantic ebulli-
tions of Wall Street on Black Friday ! New strikes perpetually inflated the
mania. Speculators wandered far and wide in quest of the subterranean wealth
that promised to outrival the golden measures of California or the silver-lodes
of Nevada. The value of oil-lands was reckoned by millions. Small interests
in single wells brought hundreds-of-thousands of dollars. New York, Philadel-
phia, Boston and Chicago measured purses in the insane strife for territory.
Hosts of adventurers sought the new Oil-Dorado and the stocks of countless
"petroleum-companies " were scattered broadcast over Europe and America.
An ambitious operator sold seventeen-sixteenths in one well and shares in leases
were purchased ravenously. A half-acre lease on the Holmden farm realized
bonuses of twenty-four-thousand dollars before a well was drilled on the prop-
erty and the swarm of dealers resembled the plague of locusts in Egypt in num-
ber and persistence !
Everything favored the growth of Pithole. The close of the war had left the
country flooded with paper currency and multitudes of men thrown upon their
own resources. Hundreds of these flocked to the inviting "city," which pre-
sented manifold inducements to venturesome spirits, keen shysters, unscrupulous
stock-jobbers, needy laborers and dishonest tricksters. The post-office speedily
ranked third in Pennsylvania, Philadelphia and Pittsburg alone excelling it.
Seven chain-lightning clerks assisted Postmaster S. S. Hill to handle the mail.
Lines of men extending a block would await their turns for letters at the general-
delivery. It was a roystering time ! Hotels, theaters, saloons, drinking-dens,
gambling-hells and questionable resorts were counted by the score. A fire-
department was organized, a daily paper established and a mayor elected.
Railways to Reno and Oleopolis were nearly completed before ' ' the beginning of
the end " came with terrible swiftness. In No-
vember and December the wells declined mate-
rially. The laying of pipe-lines to Miller Farm
and Oleopolis, through which the oil was forced
to points of shipment by steam-pumps, in one
week drove fifteen-hundred teams to seek work
elsewhere. Destructive fires accelerated the
final catastrophe. The graphic pen of Dickens
would fail to give an adequate idea of this phe-
nomenal creation, whose career was a magnified
type of dozens of towns that suddenly arose and
as suddenly collapsed in the oil-regions of
Pennsylvania.
Pithole had many wells that yielded freely
for some time. The Homestead, on the Hyner
farm, finished in Tune of i86s, proved a gusher
~ ' ,, , JOHN A. MATHER.
On August first the Deshler started at one-hun-
dred barrels ; on August second the Grant, at four-hundred-and-fifty barrels ; on
August twenty-eighth the Pool, at eight-hundred barrels ; on September fifth
the Ogden, at one-hundred barrels, and on September fifteenth Pool & Perry's
No. 47, at four-hundred barrels. The Frazer improved during the spring to eight-
176 SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
hundred barrels, while the Grant reached seven-hundred in September. On
November twenty-second the Eureka joined the chorus at five-hundred barrels.
The daily production of the Holmden farm exceeded five-thousand barrels for
a limited period, with a proportionate yield of seven-dollar crude from adjacent
tracts. John A. Mather, the veteran Titusville photographer, discarded his
camera to become a full-fledged oilman. He bored a well that tinctured the
suburban slope of Balltown a glowing madder. The frenzy spread. J. W.
Bonta and James A. Bates paid James Rooker two-hundred-and-eighty-thousand
dollars for his hundred-acre farm, south of the Holmden. Rooker, a hard-work-
ing tiller of the soil, lived in a kind of rookery and earned a poor subsistence by
constant toil. He stuck to the money derived from the sale of his farm, and he
is still living at a goodly age. The Grand Dutch S well would have given Lillian
Russell new wrinkles in her delineation of the "Grand Duchess of Gerolstein."
A neighbor refused eight-hundred-thousand dollars for his barren acres. " I
don't keer ter hev my buckwheat tramped over," he explained, " but you kin
hev this farm next winter fur a million ! " He kept the farm, reaped his crop
and was not disturbed until death compelled him to lodge in a plot six by two.
GRAND DUTCH S WELL. VIEW OF PITHOLE IN THE FALL OF 1865.
Bonta & Bates did not linger for ' ' two blades of grass to grow where one
grew before." Within two months they disposed of ninety leases for four-hun-
dred-thousand dollars and half the oil ! They spent eighty-thousand on the
Bonta House, a sumptuous hostlery. Duncan & Prather leased building-lots at
a yearly rental of one-hundred to one-thousand dollars. First, Second and
Holmden streets bristled with activity. The Danforth House stood on a lot sub-
leased for fourteen-thousand dollars bonus. Sixty hotels could not accommo-
date the influx of guests. Beds, sofas and chairs were luxuries for the few.
" First come, first served, " was the rule. The many had to seek the shaving-
pile, the hay-cock or the tender side of a plank. Some mingled promiscuously
in "field-beds" rows of "shake-downs" on attic floors. Besides the Bonta
and Danforth , the United States, Chase, Tremont, Buckley, Lincoln, Sherman,
St. James, American, Northeast, Seneca, Metropolitan, Pomeroy and fifty hotels
of minor note flourished. If palaces of sin, gorgeous bar-rooms, business-
houses and places of amusement abounded, churches and schools marked the
moral sentiment. Fire wiped out the Tremont and adjoining houses in February
of 1866. Eighty buildings went up in smoke on May first and June thirteenth.
Thirty wells and twenty-thousand barrels of oil went the same road in August.
The best buildings were torn down, to bloom at Pleasantville or Oil City. The
disappearance of Pithole astonished the world no less than its marvelous growth.
The Danforth House sold for sixteen dollars, to make firewood ! The railroads
A GOURD IN THE NIGHT. 177
were abandoned and in 1876 only six voters remained. A ruined tenement, a
deserted church and traces of streets alone survive. Troy or Nineveh is not
more desolate.
In July of 1865 Duncan & Prather granted Henry E. Picket, George J. Sher-
man and Brian Philpot, of Titusville, a thirty-day option on the Holmden farm
for one-million-three-hundred-thousand dollars. Mr. Sherman arranged to sell
the property in New York at sixteen-hundred-thousand ! The wells already
down produced largely, seventy more were drilling and the annual ground-rents
footed up sixty-thousand dollars. The Ketcham forgeries tangled the funds of
the New-Yorkers and negotiations were opened with H. H. Honore, of Chicago.
After dark on the last day of the option Honore tendered the first payment
four-hundred-thousand dollars. It was declined, on the ground that the busi-
ness day expired at sundown, and litigation ensued. A compromise resulted in
the transfer of the property to Honore. The deal involved the largest sum ever
paid in the oil regions for a single tract of land. The bubble burst so quickly
that the Chicago purchaser, like Benjamin Franklin, "paid too much for the
whistle." Col. A. P. Duncan commanded the Fourth Cavalry Company, the
UNITED STATES OIL COMPANY'S OFFICE. BONTA HOUSE, PITHOLE.
first mustered in Venango county, every member of which carried to the war a
small Bible presented by Mrs. A. G. Egbert, of Franklin. Tall, erect, of military
bearing and undoubted integrity, he lived at Oil City and died years ago.
Duncan & Prather owned one of the two banks that handled car-loads of money
in the dizziest town that ever blasted radiant hopes and shriveled portly pocket-
books.
The Pithole bubble was blown at an opportune moment to catch suckers.
Hundreds of oil-companies had come into existence in 1864, hungry for territory
and grasping at anything within rifle-shot of an actual or prospective ' ' spouter. "
The speculative tide flowed and ebbed as never before in any age or nation.
Volumes could be written of amazing transitions of fortune. Scores landed at
Pithole penniless and departed in a few months "well heeled." Others came
with * ' hatfuls of money " and went away empty-handed. Thousands of stock-
holders were bitten as badly as the sailor, whom the shark nipped off by the
waist-band. It was rather refreshing in its way for "country Reubens " to do
up Wall-street sharpers at their own game. Shrewd Bostonians, New-Yorkers
and Philadelphians, magnates in business and finance, were snared as readily
as hayseeds who buy green-goods and gold-bricks. There are no flies on the
smooth, glib Oily Gammon whose mouth yielded more lubricating oil than the
biggest well on French Creek. His favorite prey was a pilgrim with a bursting
wallet or the agent of an eastern petroleum-company. A well pouring forth
178 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
three, six, eight, ten, twelve or fifteen-hundred barrels of five-dollar crude every
twenty-four hours was a spectacle to fire the blood and turn the brain of the
most sluggish beholder. "Such a well," he might calculate, " would make me
a millionaire in one year and a Crcesus in ten." The wariest trout would nibble
at bait so tempting. The schemer with property to sell had " the very thing he
wanted" and would "let him in on the ground-floor." He met men who,
driving mules or jigging tools six months ago, were "oil-princes " now. Here
lay a tract, "the softest snap on top of the earth," only a mile from the Great
Geyser, with a well "just in the sand and a splendid show." He could have it
at a bargain-counter sacrifice one-hundred-thousand dollars and half the oil.
The engine had given out and the owner was about to order a new one when
called home by the sudden death of his mother-in-law. Settling the old lady's
estate required his entire attention, therefore he would consent to sell his oil-
interests "dirt-cheap" to a responsible buyer who would push developments.
The price ought to be two or three times the sum asked, but the royalty from
the big wells sure to be struck would ultimately even up matters. The tale was
plausible and the visitor would " look at the property." He saw real sand on
the derrick-floor and everything besmeared with grease. The presence of oil
was unmistakable. Drilling ten feet into the rich rock would certainly tap the
jugular and glorious thought 'perhaps outdo the Great Geyser itself. He
closed the deal, telegraphed for an engine he was dying to see that stream of
oil climbing skywards and chuckled gleefully. The keen edge of his delight
might have been dulled had he known that the well was through, not merely to,
the sand and absolutely guiltless of the taint of oil ! He did not suspect that
barrels of crude and buckets of sand from other wells had been dumped into
the hole at night, that the engine had been disabled purposely and that another
innocent was soon to cut his wisdom-teeth ! He found out when the well
" came in dry " that Justice Dogberry was not a greater ass and that the fool-
killer's snickersnee was yearning for him. Possibly he might by persistent
drilling find paying wells and get back part of his money, but nine times out of
ten the investment was a total loss and the disgusted victim quit the scene with
a new interpretation of the scriptural declaration : "I was a stranger and ye
took me in." Butler anticipated Pithole when he wrote in Hudibras :
" Make fools believe in their foreseeing
Of things before they are in being ;
To swallow gudgeons ere they're catched,
And count their chickens ere they're hatched."
The methods of "turning an honest penny" varied to fit the case. To
"doctor" a well by dosing it with a load of oil was tame and commonplace.
In three instances wells sold at fancy prices were connected by underground
pipes with tanks of oil at a distance. When the parties arrived to "time the
well " the secret pipe was opened. The oil ran into the tubing and pumped as
though coming direct from the sand ! The deception was as perfect as the
oleomargarine the Pennsylvania State Board of Agriculture pronounced "dairy
butter of superior quality!" "Seeing is believing" and there was the oil.
They had seen it pumping a steady stream into the tank, timed it, gauged it,
smelled it. The demonstration was complete and the cash would be forked
over, a twenty-barrel well bringing a hundred-barrel price ! A smart widow
near Pithole sold her farm at treble its value because of "surface indications "
she created by emptying a barrel of oil into a spring. The farm proved good
territory, much to the chagrin of the widow, who roundly abused the purchasers
A GOURD IN THE NIGHT. 179
for "cheatin' a poor lone woman!" Selling stock in companies that held
lands, or interests in wells to be drilled "near big gushers" they might be
eight or ten miles off was not infrequent. On the other hand, a very slight
risk often brought an immense return. Parties would pay five-hundred dollars
for the refusal of a tract of land and arrange with other parties to sink a well
for a small lease on the property. If the well succeeded, one acre would pay
the cost of the entire farm ; if it failed, the holders of the option forfeited the
trifle that secured it and threw up the contract. It was risking five-hundred
dollars on the chance, not always very remote, of gaining a half-million.
Sometimes the craze to invest bordered upon the ludicrous. Sixteenths
and fractions of sixteenths in producing, non-producing, drilling, undrilled and
never-to-be-drilled wells "went like hot cakes" at two to twenty-thousand
dollars. A newcomer, in his haste to "tie onto something," shelled out one-
thousand dollars for a share in a gusher that netted him two quarts of oil a day !
Another cheerfully paid fifteen-thousand for the sixteenth of a flowing well
which discounted the Irishman's flea "you put your finger on the varmint and
he wasn't there " by balking that night and declining ever to start again ! At
a fire in 1866 water from a spring, dashed on the blaze, added fuel to the flames.
An examination showed that oil was filling the spring and water-wells in the
neighborhood. From the well in Mrs. Reichart's yard the wooden pump
brought fifty barrels of pure oil. L. L. Hill's well and holes dug eight or ten
feet had the same complaint. Excitement blew off at the top gauge. The
Record devoted columns to the new departure. Was the oil so impatient to
enrich Pitholians that, refusing to wait for the drill to provide an outlet, it burst
through the rocks in its eagerness to boom the district ? Patches of ground
the size of a quilt sold for two, three or four-hundred dollars and rows of pits
resembling open graves decorated the slope. In a week a digger discovered
that a break in the pipe-line supplied the oil. The leak was repaired, the pits
dried up, the water-wells resumed their normal condition and the fiasco ended
ignominiously. It was a modern version of the mountain that set the country
by the ears to bring forth a mouse.
Joseph Wood, proprietor of the St. James Hotel at Paterson, N. J., died on
May thirteenth, 1896. He was a wit and story-teller of the best kind, a gallant
fighter for the Union and for a year lived at Pithole. A fortune made by oper-
ating and speculation he lost by fire in a year. He conducted hotels at Hot
Springs, Washington, Chicago and Milwaukee and was one of the famous
Bonifaces of the United States. On his business-cards he printed these " relig-
ious beliefs :"
" Do not keep the alabaster-boxes of your love and tenderness sealed up until your friends
are dead. Fill their lives with sweetness. Speak approving, cheering words while their eas
can hear them and while their hearts can be thrilled and made happier by them. The kind
things you mean to say when they are gone say before they go. The flowers you mean to send
to their coffins send to brighten and sweeten their homes before they leave them. If my friends
have alabaster-boxes laid away, full of fragrant perfumes of sympathy and affection, which they
intend to break over my dead body, I would rather they would bring them out in my weary and
troubled hours and open them, that I may be refreshed and cheered by them while I need them.
I would rather have a plain coffin without a flower, a funeral without a eulogy, than a life with-
out the sweetness of love and sympathy. Let us learn to anoint our friends beforehand for their
burial. Post-mortem kindness does not cheer the burdened spirit. Flowers on the coffin cast no
fragrance backward over the weary way."
Let down the bars and enter the field that was once the seething, boiling
caldron called Pithole. A poplar-tree thirty feet high grows in the cellar of
the National Hotel. Stones and underbrush cover the site of the Metropolitan
i8o SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
Theater and Murphy's Varieties. This bit of sunken ground, clogged with
weeds and brambles, marks the Chase House, Here was Main street, where
millions of dollars changed hands daily. For years the Presbyterian church
stood forsaken, the bell in the tower silent, the pews untouched and the pulpit-
Bible lying on the preacher's desk. John McPherson's store and Dr. Christie's
house were about the last buildings in the place. Not a human-being now lives
on the spot. All the old-timers moved away. All ? No, a score or two quietly
sleep among the bushes and briars that run riot over the little graveyard in
which they were laid when the dead city was in the throes of a tremendous
excitement.
The rate at which towns rose was surely most terrific
Nothing- to rival it from Maine to the Pacific ;
The rate at which they fell has never had an equal
Woods, city, ruin'd waste the story and the sequel.
Pithole was the Mecca of a legion of operators whose history is part and par-
cel of the oil-development. Phillips Brothers, giants on Oil Creek, bought farms
and drilled extensively. Frederic Prentice and W. W. Clark, who figured in
two-thirds of the largest transactions from Petroleum Centre to Franklin, held
a full hand. Frank W. Andrews, John Satterfield, J. R. Johnson, J. B. Fink,
A. J. Keenan the first burgess D. H. Burtis, Heman Janes, ''Pap" Sheak-
ley, L. H. Smith and hundreds of similar caliber
were on deck. John Galloway, known in every
oil-district of Pennsylvania and West Virginia
as a tireless hustler, did not let Pithole slip past
unnoticed. He has been an operator in all the
fields since his first appearance on Oil Creek in
the fall of 1861. Sharing in the prosperity and
adversity of the oil-regions, he has never been
hoodooed or bankrupted. His word is his bond
and his promise to pay has always meant one-
hundred cents on the dollar. More largely in-
terested in producing than ever, he attends to
business at Pittsburg and lives at Jamestown,
happy in his deserved success, in the love of his
family and the esteem of countless friends. , Mr.
Galloway's pedestrian feats would have crowned
him with olive-wreaths at the Olympic games.
Deerfoot could hardly have kept up with him on a twenty-mile tramp to see an
important well or hit a farmer for a lease before breakfast. He's a good one !
The Swordsman's Club attained the highest reputation as a social organiza-
tion. One night in 1866, when Pithole was at the zenith of its fame, John Sat-
terfield, Seth Crittenden, Alfred W. Smiley, John McDonald, George Burchill,
George Gilmore, Pard B. Smith, L. H. Smith, W. H. Longwell and other con-
genial gentlemen met for an evening's enjoyment. The conversation turned upon
clubs. Smiley jumped to his feet and moved that "we organize a club." All
assented heartily and the Swordman's Club was organized there and then, with
Pard B. Smith as president and George Burchill as secretary. Elegant rooms
were fitted up, the famous motto of " R. C. T." was adopted and the club gave
a series of most elaborate "promenade-concerts and balls " in 1866-7. Invita-
tions to these brilliant affairs were courted by the best people of Oildom. The
club dissolved in 1868. Its membership included four congressmen, two ex-
governors wore its badge and scores of men conspicuous in the state and nation
A GOURD IN THE NIGHT.
181
had the honor of belonging to the Swordman's. At regular meetings ' ' the feast
of reason and the flow of soul " blended merrily with the flowing bowl. Sallies
of bright wit, spontaneous and never hanging fire, were promptly on schedule
time. Good fellowship prevailed and C. C. Leonard immortalized the club in
his side-splitting " History of Pithole." Verily the years slip by. Long ago the
ephemeral town went back to its original pasture, long ago the facetious his-
torian went back to dust, long ago many a good clubman's sword turned into
rust. Pard B. Smith runs a livery in Cleveland, Longwell is in Oil City, Smiley
he represented Clarion county twice in the Legislature manages the pipe-line
at Foxburg, L. H. Smith is in New York and others are scattered or dead. On
November twenty-first, 1890, the " Pioneers of Pithole" among them a num-
ber of Swordsmen had a reunion and banquet at the Hotel Brunswick, Titus-
ville. These stanzas, composed and sung by President Smith and "Alf"
Smiley, were vociferously cheered :
" 'Twas side by side, as Swordsmen true,
In Pithole long ago,
We met the boys on common ground
And gave them all a show.
In social as in business ways
Our honor was our law,
And when a brother lost his grip
He on the boys could draw.
CHORUS : " We're the boys, the same old boys,
Who were there in sixty-five ;
If any Swordsman conies our way
He'll find us still alive.
" What if grim age creeps on apace,
Our souls will ne'er grow old ;
We will, as in the Pithole days,
Stand true as Swordsmen bold.
In those old days we had our fun,
But stood for honor true ;
Here, warmly clasping hand-to-hand,
Our friendship we renew."
ALFRED W. SMILEY.
" Spirits " inspired four good wells at Pithole. One dry hole, a mile south-
east of town, seriously depressed stock in their skill as "oil-smellers." An
enthusiastic disciple of the Fox sisters, assured of "a big well," drilled two-
hundred feet below the sixth sand in search of oil-bearing rock. He drilled
himself into debt and Sheriff C. S. Mark six feet high and correspondingly
broad whom nobody could mistake for an ethereal being, sold the outfit at
junk-prices.
In the swish and swirl of Pithole teamsters a man with two stout horses
could earn twenty dollars a day clear drillers and pumpers played no mean
part. They received high wages and spent money freely. Variety-shows,
music-halls with "pretty waiter-girls " dance-houses, saloons, gambling-hells
and dens of vice afforded unlimited opportunities to squander cash and decency
and self-respect. Many a clever youth, flushed with the idea of "sowing his
wild oats," sacrificed health and character on the altars of Bacchus and Venus.
Many a comely maiden, yielding to the wiles of the betrayer, rounded up in the
brothel and the potter's field. Many a pious mother, weeping for the wayward
prodigal who was draining her life-blood, had reason to inquire : " Oh, where
is my boy to-night ?' ' Many a husband, forgetting the trusting wife and children
at home, wandered from the straight path and tasted the forbidden fruit. Many
13
i82 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
a promising life was blighted, many a hopeful career blasted, many a reputation
smirched and many a fond heart broken by the pitfalls and temptations of Pit-
hole. Dollars were not the only stakes in the exciting game of life good names,
family ties, bright prospects, domestic happiness and human souls were often
risked and often lost. "The half has never been told."
Scarcely less noted was the organization heralded far and wide as "Pit-
hole's Forty Thieves." Well-superintendents, controlling the interests of out-
side companies, were important personages.
Distant stockholders, unable to understand the
difficulties and uncertainties attending develop-
ments, blamed the superintendents for the lack
of dividends. No class of men in the country
discharged their duties more faithfully, yet
cranky investors in wildcat stocks termed them
"slick rascals," "plunderers" and "robbers."
Some joker suggested that once a band of Ara-
bian Knights fellows who stole everything
associated as "The Forty Thieves " and that
the libeled superintendents ought to organize a
club. The idea captured the town and ' ' Pit-
hole's Forty Thieves' ' became at once a tangible
reality. Merchants, producers, capitalists and
business-men hastened to enroll themselves as
GOVERNOR SHKAKLEY. TT ,-111 r ,
members. Hon. James Sheakley, of Mercer,
was elected president. Social meetings were held regularly and guying green-
horns, who supposed stealing to be the object of the organization, was a favorite
pastime. The practical pranks of the "Forty" were laughed at and relished
in the whole region. Nine-tenths of the members were young men, honorable
in every relation of life, to whom the organization was a genuine joke. They
enjoyed its notoriety and delighted to gull innocents who imagined they would
purloin engines, derricks, drilling-tools, saw-mills and oil-tanks. Ten years
after the band disbanded its president served in Congress and was a leading
debater on the Hayes-Tilden muddle. "Pap" Sheakley as the boys affec-
tionately called him was the embodiment of integrity, kindliness and hospi-
tality. He operated in the Butler field and lived at Greenville. Bereft of his
devoted wife and lovely daughters by "the fell sergeant, Death," he sold his,
desolated home and accepted from President Cleveland the governorship of
Uncle Sam's remotest Territory. His administration was so satisfactory that
President Harrison reappointed him. There was no squarer, truer, nobler man
in the public service than James Sheakley, Ex-Governor of Alaska.
Rev. S. D. Steadman, the first pastor at Pithole, a zealous Methodist was
universally respected for earnestness and piety. The "forty thieves" sent
him one-hundred-and-fifty dollars at Christmas of 1866, with a letter commend-
ing his moral teachings, his courtesy and charity. Another minister inquired
of a Swordsman what the letters of the club's motto "R. C. T." signified,
"Religious Councils Treasured " was the ready response. This raised the club
immensely in the divine's estimation and led to a sermon in which he extolled
the jolly organization ! He "took a tumble " when a deacon smilingly informed
him that the letters a fake proposed in sport symbolized " Rum, Cards,
Tobacco. ' '
Mud was responsible for the funniest to the spectators mishap that ever
A GOURD IN THE NIGHT.
183
convulsed a Pithole audience. A group of us stood in front of the Danforth
House at the height of the miry season. Thin mud overflowed the plank-
Crossing and a grocer laid short pieces of scantling two or three feet apart for
pedestrians to step on. A flashy sport, attired in a swell suit and a shiny
beaver, was the first to take advantage of the improvised passage. Half-way
across the scantling to which he was stepping moved ahead of his foot. In
trying to recover his balance the sport careened to one side, his hat flew off and
he landed plump on his back, in mud and
water three feet deep ! He disappeared
beneath the surface as completely as
though dropped into the sea, his head
emerging a moment later. Blinded,
sputtering and gasping for breath, he was
a sight for the gods and little fishes!
Mouth, eyes, nose and ears were choked
with the dreadful ooze. Two men went
to his assistance, led him to the rear of
the hotel and turned the hose on him.
His clothes were ruined, his gold watch
was never recovered and for weeks small
boys would howl : " His name is Mud !"
John Galloway, on one of his rambles
for territory, ate dinner at the humble
cabin of a poor settler. A fowl, tough,
aged and peculiar, was the principal dish.
In two weeks the tourist was that way
again. A boy of four summers played
at the door, close to which the visitor sat down. A brood of small chickens
approached the entrance. " Poo', ittey sings," lisped the child, " oo mus' yun
away; here's 'eyasty man 'at eated up oos mammy." The good woman of
the shanty had stewed the clucking-hen to feed the unexpected guest.
A maiden of uncertain age owned a farm which various operators vainly
tried to lease. Hoping to steal a march on the others, one smooth talker called
the second time. "I have come, Miss Blank," he began, "to make you an
offer." He didn't get a chance to add "for your land." The old girl, not a
gosling who would let a prize slip, jumped from her chair, clasped him about
the neck and exclaimed : " Oh ! Mr. Blank, this is so sudden, but I'm yours !"
The astounded oilman shook her off at last and explained that he already had a
wife and five children and wanted the farm only. The clinging vine wept and
stormed, threatened a breach-of-promise suit and loaded her dead father's
blunderbuss to be prepared for the next intruder.
W. J. Bostford, who died at Jamestown in November of 1895, operated at
Pithole in its palmy days. Business was done on a cash basis and oil-property
was paid for in money up to hundreds-of-thousands of dollars. Bostford made
a big sale and started from Pithole to deposit his money. A cross-country trip
was necessary to reach Titusville. Shortly after leaving Pithole he was attacked
by robbers, who took all the money and left him for dead upon the highway.
He was picked up alive, with a broken head and many other injuries, which he
survived thirty years.
The first " hotel " at Pithole a balloon-frame rushed up in a day bore the
pretentious title of Astor House. Before its erection pilgrims to the coming
AN INVOLUNTARY MUD-BATH.
1 84
SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
THE DINNER HOUR AT
GINS'S HOTEL.
city took their chance of meals at the Holmden form-house. As a guest wittily
remarked : w It was table d'hote for men and also table d'oat for horses." The
viands were all heaped upon large dishes and everybody helped himself. The
Morey-Farm Hotel, just above Pithole, charged twenty-one dollars a week for
board, had gas-light, steam-heat, telegraph-office, barber-shop, colored waiters
and "spring-mattresses." Its cooking rivalled the best in the large cities. At
Wiggins 's Hotel, a
three-story board-
ing-house in the
Tidioute field, two-
hundred men would
often wait their turn
to get dinner. This
was a common ex-
perience in the fron-
tier towns, to which
big throngs hurried
before houses could
be erected for their
accommod ation.
E. H. Crittenden's
hotel at Titusville
was the finest Oildom boasted in the sixties. Book & Frisbee's was notable at
the height of the Parker development. A dollar for a meal or a bed, four dol-
lars a day or twenty-eight dollars a week, be the stay long or short, was the
invariable rate. Peter Christie's Central Hotel, at Petrolia, was immensely
popular and a regular gold-mine for the owner. Oil City's Petroleum House
was a model hostelry, under " Charley" Staats and " Jim " White. The Jones
House cleared Jones forty-thousand dollars in nine months. Its first guest was
a Mr. Seymour, who spent one year collecting data for a statistical work on
petroleum. His manuscripts perished in the flood of 1865. The last glimpse
my eyes beheld of Jones was at Tarport, where he was driving a dray. Brad-
ford's Riddell House and St. James Hotel both sized up to the most exacting
requirements. Good hotels and good restaurants were seldom far behind the
triumphant march of the pioneers whose successes established oil-towns.
Col. Gardner, "a big man any way you take him," was Chief-of-Police at
Pithole. He has operated at Bradford and Warren, toyed with politics and
military affairs and won the regard of troops of friends. Charles H. Duncan,
of Oil City his youthful appearance suggests Ponce de Leon's spring served in
the borough-council, of which James M. Guffey, the astute Democratic leader
and successful producer, was clerk. Col. Morton arrived in August of 1865
with a carpet-bag of job-type. His first work tickets for passage over Little
Pithole Creek the first printing ever done at Pithole, was never paid for. The
town had shoals of trusty, generous fellows "God's own white boys," Fred
Wheeler dubbed them whose manliness and enterprise and liberality were
always above par.
When men went crazy at Pithole and outsiders thought the oil-country was
"flowing with milk and honey " and greenbacks, a party of wags thought to put
up a little joke at the expense of a new-comer from Boston. They arranged
with the landlord for some coupon-bonds to use in the dining-room of the hotel
and to seat the youth at their table. The New-Englander was seated in due
A GOURD IN THE NIGHT. 185
course. The guests talked of oil-lands, fabulous strikes and big fortunes as
ordinary affairs. Each chucked under his chin a five-twenty government-bond
as a napkin. One lay in front of the Bostonian's plate, folded and creased like
a genuine linen- wiper. Calmly taking the "paper" from its receptacle, the
chap from The Hub wiped his brow and adjusted the valuable napkin over his
shirt-bosom. A moment later he beckoned to a servant and said : ' ' See here,
waiter, this napkin is too small ; bring me a dish of soup and a ' ten-forty. ' '
The jokers could not stand this. A laugh went around the festive board that
could have been heard at the Twin Wells and the matter was explained to the
bean-eater. He was put on the trail of "a soft snap" and went home in a
month with ten-thousand dollars. "Bring me a ten-forty" circulated fora
twelve-month in cigar-shops and bar-rooms.
Ben Hogan was one of the motley crew that swarmed to Pithole "broke."
He taught sparring and gave exhibitions of strength at Diefenbach's variety-
hall. He fought Jack Holliday for a purse of six-hundred dollars and defeated
him in seven rounds. Four-hundred tough men and tougher women were
present, many of them armed. Hogan was assured before the fight he would
be killed if he whipped his opponent. He was shot at by Marsh Elliott during
the mill, but escaped unhurt. Ben met Elliott soon thereafter and knocked
him out in four brief rounds, breaking his nose and using him up generally.
Next he opened a palatial sporting-house, the receipts of which often reached
a thousand dollars a day. An adventure of importance was with ' ' Stonehouse
Jack." This desperado and his gang had a grudge against Hogan and con-
cocted a scheme to kill him. Jack was to arrange a fight with Ben, during
which Hogan was to be killed by the crowd. Ben saw his enemy coming out
of a dance-house and blazed away at him, but without effect The fusillade
scared " Stonehouse " away from Pithole and on January twenty-second, 1866,
a vigilance committee at Titusville drove the villain out of the oil-region,
threatening to hang him or any of his gang who dared return. This committee
was organized to clear out a nest of incendiaries and thugs. The vigilants
erected a gallows near the smoking embers of E. B. Chase & Co.'s general
store, fired the preceding night, and decreed the banishment of hordes of
toughs. " Stonehouse Jack " and one-hundred other men, with a number of
vile women came under this sentence. The whole party was formed in line in
front of the gallows, the "Rogue's March" was played and the procession,
followed by a great crowd of people, proceeded to the Oil-Creek Railroad
station. The prisoners were ordered on board a special train, with a warning
that if they ever again set foot upon the soil of Titusville they would be sum-
marily executed. This salutary action ended organized crime in the oil-region.
North of Pithole the tide crossed into Allegheny township. Balltown, a
meadow on C. M. Ball's farm in July, 1865, at the end of the year paraded
stores, hotels, a hundred dwellings and a thousand people. Fires in 1866
scorched it and waning production did the rest. Dawson Centre, on the Saw-
yer tract, budded, frosted and perished. The Morey House, on the Copeland
farm, was the oasis in the desert, serving meals that tickled the midriff and
might cope with Delmonico's. Farms on Little Pithole Creek were riddled
without swelling the yield of crude immoderately. Where are those oil-wells
now? Echo murmurs "where ?" In all that section of Cornplanter and Alle-
gheny townships a derrick, an engine-house or a tank would be a novelty of
the rarest breed.
Eight miles north-east of Titusville, where Godfrey Hill drilled a dry-hole
i86 SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
in 1860 and two companies drilled six later, the Colorado district finally re-
warded gritty operators. Enterprise was benefited by small wells in the vicin-
ity. Down Pithole Creek to its junction with the Allegheny the country was
punctured. Oleopolis straggled over the slope on the river's bank, a pipe-line,
a railroad to Pithole and minor wells contributing to its support. The first well
tackled a vein of natural gas, which caught fire and consumed the rig. The
driller was alone, the owner of the well having gone into the shanty. In a
twinkling flames enveloped the astonished knight of the temper-screw, who
leaped from the derrick, clothes blazing and hair singed off, and headed for the
water. "Boss," he roared in his flight, "jump into the river and say your
prayers quick ! I've bu'sted the bung and hell's running out."
"Breathe through the nostrils" is good advice. People should breathe
through the nose and not use it so much for talking and singing through. Yet
every rule has exceptions. A pair of mules hauled oil from Dawson Centre in
the flush times of the excitement. The mud was practically bottomless. A
visitor was overheard telling a friend that the bodies of the mules sank out of
sight and that they were breathing through their ears, which alone projected
above the ooze. Dawson and many more departed oil-towns suggest the jingle :
" There was an old woman lived under a hill ;
If she hadn't moved she'd be there still :
But she moved ! "
About St. Valentine's Day in 1866, when the burning of the Tremont House
led to the discovery of oil in springs and wells, was a hilarious time at Pithole.
Every cellar was fairly flooded with grease. People pumped it from common
pumps, dipped it from streams, tasted it in tea, inhaled it from coffee-pots and
were afraid to carry lights at night lest the very air should cause explosion and
other unhappiness. It became a serious question what to drink. The whiskey
could not be watered there was no water. Dirty shirts could not be washed
the very rain was crude oil. Dirt fastened upon the damask cheeks of Pithole
damsels and found an abiding-place in the whiskers of every bronzed fortune-
hunter. Water commanded an enormous price and intoxicating beverages
were cheap, since they could scarcely be taken in the raw. The editor of the
Record, a strict temperance man, was obliged to travel fourteen miles every
morning by stone-boat to get his glass of water. Stocks of oil -companies were
the only thing in the community thoroughly watered. Tramps, hobos, wan-
dering vagrants and unwashed disbelievers that ''cleanliness is next to Godli-
ness " pronounced Pithole a terrestrial paradise. They were willing to reverse
Muhlenburg's sentiment and "live alway " in that kind of dry territory.
"You're not fit to sit with decent people ; come up here and sit along with
me ! " thundered a Dawson teacher who sat at his desk hearing a recitation, as
he discovered at a glance the worst boy in school annoying his seatmate.
Charles Highberger, who had lost a leg, was elected a justice of the peace
at Pithole in 1866. Attorney Ruth, who came from Westmoreland county,
was urging the conviction of a miserable whelp when he noticed Highberger
had fallen asleep, as was his custom during long arguments. Mr. Ruth aroused
him and remarked: "I wish your honor would pay attention to the points
which I am about to make, as they have an important bearing on the case."
Highberger opened his eyes, glared around the room and rose on his crutches
in great wrath, exclaiming : " There has been too much blamed chin-whacking
in this case ; you have been talking two hours and I haven't seen a cent of
costs. The prisoner may consider himself discharged. The court will adjourn
A GOURD IN THE NIGHT.
187
to Andy Christy's drug-store." This was the way justice was dispensed with
in those good old days when " go as you please " was the rule at Pithole.
John G. Saxe once lectured at Pithole and was so pleased with the people
and place that he donated twenty-five dollars to the charity-fund and wrote
columns of descriptive matter to a Boston newspaper. " If I were not Alexan-
der I would be Diogenes," said the Macedonian conqueror. Similarly Henry
Ward Beecher remarked, when he visited Oil City to lecture, " If I were not
pastor of Plymouth church I would be pastor of an Oil-City church." The
train conveying Dom Pedro, Emperor of Brazil, through the oil-region stopped
at" Foxburg to afford the imperial guest an opportunity to see an oil-well tor-
pedoed. He watched the filling of the shell with manifest interest, dropped
the weight after the torpedo had been lowered and clapped his hands when a
column of oil rose in the air. An irreverent spectator whispered : "This beats
playing pedro."
J. P. Albee, laborer, painter, carpenter, rig-builder, pumper, pipe-liner,
merchant and insurance-agent, was born in Warren county, reared on a farm in
the Wisconsin lead-mining regions, enlisted in 1861,
served three years gallantly and was discharged
because of a wound in the breast by a rifle-ball. He
struck Pithole in September of 1865, shared in the
ups and downs of the transitory excitement and was
one of the founders, if not the full-fledged father, of
Cash-Up. The brave veteran was a pioneer in
shoving ahead and demonstrating where oil was
not to be expected. He owned fourteen dry-holes
in whole or part, a number sufficient to establish
quite a record. Drifting to Butler with the tide of
developments, he engaged in various pursuits with
varying success. Hosts of friends relish his tales
of army-life and of ventures in Oildom, a knapsack
of which he has constantly on hand. The years
speed quickly, bringing many changes in their wake,
and thousands who once waded through the muddy
streets of Pithole are now treading the golden pavements of the Celestial City.
Those who linger here a while longer love to recall the times that can never be
repeated under the blue canopy.
Mud-veins in the third sand on Oil Creek and at Pithole would often stick
the tools effectually. On Bull Run three wells in one derrick were abandoned
with tools stuck in the third sand. The theory was that the mud vein was a
stratum of slate in the sand, which became softened and ran into the well when
water came in contact with it. Casing has robbed it of its terrors.
Before casing was introduced it was often difficult to tell if oil was found.
Oilmen would examine the sand, look for "soot" on the sand-pumpings and
place a lighted match to the sand-pump immediately after it was drawn from
the well, as a test for gas. If the driller was sure the drill dropped two or three
feet, with "soot" on the sand-pumpings, the show was considered worth test-
ing. A seed-bag was put on the tubing and the well was allowed to stand a day
or two to let the seed swell. To exhaust the water sometimes required weeks,
but when all hope of a producer was lost and the last shovel of coal was in
the boiler the oil might come. There seemed to be a virtue in that last shovel
of coal. The shoemaker who could make a good seed-bag was a big man.
J. P. ALBEE.
i88 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
The man who tied on the seed-bag for a well that proved a good producer was
in demand. If, after oil showed itself, flax-seed was seen coming from the pipe
the well-owner's heart could be found in his boots. The bag was burst, the
water let in and the operator's hopes let out.
A young divine preached a sermon at Pithole, on the duty of self-consecra-
tion, so effectively that a hearer presented him with a bundle of stock in a com-
pany operating on the Hyner farm. The preacher sold his shares for ten-
thousand dollars and promptly retired from the pulpit to study law ! Rev. S. D.
Steadman, while a master of sarcasm that would skewer a hypocrite on the
point of irony, was particularly at home in the realm of the affections and of the
ideal. In matters of the heart and soul few could with surer touch set aflow
the founts of tender pathos. He met his match occasionally. Rallying a friend
on his Calvinism, he said, "I believe Christians may fall from grace."
" Brother Steadman," was the quick rejoinder, " you need not argue that ; the
flock you're tending is convincing proof that the doctrine is true of your mem-
bership."
A good deal of fun has been poked at the Georgia railroad which had cow-
catchers at the rear, to keep cattle from walking into the cars, and stopped in
the woods while the conductor went a mile for milk to replenish a crying baby's
nursing-bottle. On my last trip to Pithole by rail there were no other passen-
gers. The conductor sat beside me to chat of former days and the decadence
of the town at the northern end of the line. Four miles from Oleopolis fields of
wild strawberries " wasted their sweetness on the desert air." In reply to my
hint that the berries looked very tempting, the conductor pulled the bell-rope
and stopped the train. All hands feasted on the luscious fruit until satisfied.
Coleridge, who observed that ''Doubtless the Almighty could make a finer
fruit than the wild strawberry, but doubtless He never did," would have enjoyed
the scene. " Don't hurry too much," the conductor called after me at Pithole
" we can start forty minutes behind time and I'll wait for you !" The rails were
taken up and the road abandoned in the fall, but the strawberry-picking is as
fresh as though it happened yesterday.
Long ago teamsters would start from the mines with twenty bushels of fif-
teen-cent coal. By the time they reached Pithole it would swell to thirty-
five bushels of sixty-cent coal. With oil for back-loading the teamsters made
more money then than a bond-juggler with a cinch on the United-States
treasury.
A farmer's wife near Dawson Centre, who had washed dishes for forty years,
became so tired of the monotony that, the day her husband leased the farm for
oil-purposes, she smashed every piece of crockery in the house and went out on
the woodpile and laughed a full hour. It was the first vacation of her married
life and dish-washing women will know how to sympathize with the poor soul
in her drudgery and her emancipation.
Pithole, Shamburg, Red-Hot, Tip-Top, Cash-Up, Balltown and Oleopolis
have passed into history and many of their people have gone beyond the vale of
this checkered pilgrimage, yet memories of these old times come back freighted
with thoughts of joyous days that will return no more forever.
" Better be a young June-bug than an old bird of Paradise."
PITHOLE REVISITED.
The following lines, first contributed by me to the Oil- City Times in 1870,
went the rounds twenty-five years ago :
Not a sound was heard, not a shrill whistle's scream,
As our footsteps through Pithole we hurried ;
Not a well was discharging an unctuous stream
Where the hopes of the oilmen lay buried !
We walk'd the dead city till far in the night-
Weeds growing where wheels once were turning
While seeking to find by the struggling moonlight
Some symptom cf gas dimly burning.
No useless regret should encumber man's breast,
Though dry-holes and Pitholes may bound him ;
So we lay like a warrior taking his rest,
Each with his big overcoat 'round him.
Few and short were the prayers we said,
We spoke not a sentence of sorrow,
But steadfastly gazed on the place that was dead
And bitterly long'd for the morrow !
We thought, as we lay on our primitive bed,
An old sand-pump reel for a pillow,
How friends, foes and strangers were heartily bled
And ruin swept on like a billow !
Lightly we slept, for we dreamt of the scamp,
And in fancy began to upbraid him,
Who swindled us out of our very last stamp
In the grave we could gladly have laid him !
We rose half an hour in advance of the sun,
But little refreshed for retiring !
And, feeling as stiff as a son of a gun,
Set off on a hunt for some firing.
Slowly and sadly our hard-tack went down,
Then we wrote a brief sketch of our story
And struck a bee-line for Oil City's fair town,
Leaving Pithole alone in its glory !
X.
UP THE WINDING RIVER.
ALONG THE ALLEGHENY FROM OIL CREEK THE FIRST PETROLEUM COMPANY'S
BIG STRIKE RULER OF PRESIDENT FAGUNDAS, TIDIOUTE AND TRIUMPH
HILL THE ECONOMITES WARREN AND FOREST CHERRY GROVE'S BOMB-
SHELL SCOUTS AND MYSTERY WELLS EXCITING EXPERIENCES IN THE MID-
DLE FIELD DRAINING A JUICY SECTION OF OILDOM.
" The ocean is vast and our craft is small." Norman Gunnison,
" Heaven sends us good meat, but the devil sends cooks." Garrick.
" Stay, stay thy crystal tide,
Sweet Allegheny !
I would by thee abide,
Sweet Allegheny." Marjorie Meade.
' Keep account of crises and transactions in this life." Mrs. Browning.
1 Five minutes in a crisis is worth years." Freeman Hunt.
' It does upset a man's calulations most confoundedly." Grant Allen.
' Run if you like, but try to keep your breath." Holmes.
' Then it was these Philistine sinners' turn to be skeered and they broke for the
brush." Dr. Pier son.
' And all may do what has by man been done.' 1 Edward young:
' Spurr'd boldly on and dashed through thick and thin." Dryden.
N transforming the un-
fruitful, uninteresting
Valley of Oil Creek
into the rich, attrac-
tive Valley of Petroleum
the course of develop-
ments was southward
from the Drake well.
Although some persons
imagined that a pool or
a strip bordering the
stream would be the
limit of successful opera-
tions, others entertained
broader ideas and be-
JESSE A. HEYDRICK. Heved the petroleum,
sun was not doomed to rise and set on Oil Creek. The Evans well at Franklin
confirmed this view. Naturally the Allegheny River was regarded with favor as
the base of further experiments. Quite as naturally the town at the junction of
the river and the creek was benefited. The Michigan Rock-Oil-Company laid
out building-lots and Oil City grew rapidly in wealth, ambition, enterprise
and population. From a half-dozen dwellings, two unbridged streams, the
remnants of an iron-furnace and a patch of cleared land on the flats it speedily
advanced to a hustling settlement of five-thousand souls, "out for the stuff"
and all eager for profit. Across the Allegheny, on the Downing and Bastian
191
DAVID BE ATT Y.
i 9 2 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
farms, William L. Lay laid out the village of Laytonia in 1863 and improved the
ferriage. Phillips & Vanausdall, who struck a thirty-barrel well on the Down-
ing farm in 1861, established a ferry above Bastian's and started the suburbs of
Albion and Downington. In 1865 these were merged into Imperial City, which
in 1866 was united with Laytonia and Leetown to form Venango City. In 1871
the boroughs of Venango City and Oil City were incorporated as the city of
Oil City, with William M. Williams as mayor. Three passenger-bridges, one
railroad bridge and an electric street-railway connect the north and south sides
of the "Hub of Oildom." Beautiful homes, first-class schools and churches,
spacious business-blocks, paved streets, four railroads, electric-lights, water-
works, pipe-line offices, strong banks, enormous tube-works, huge refineries,
bright newspapers, a paid fire-department, all the modern conveniences and
twelve-thousand clever people make Oil City one of the busiest and most
desirable towns in or out of Pennsylvania.
The largest of twenty-five or thirty wells drilled around Walnut Bend, six
miles up the river, in 1860-65, was rated at two-hundred barrels. Four miles
farther, two miles north-east of the mouth of Pithole Creek, John Henry settled
on the north bank of the river in 1802. Henry's Bend perpetuates the name of
this brave pioneer, who reared a large family and died in 1858. The farm
opposite Henry's, at the crown of the bend, Heydrick Brothers, of French Creek
township, leased in the fall of 1859. Jesse Heydrick organized the Wolverine
Oil-Company, the second ever formed to drill for petroleum. Thirty shares of
stock constituted its capital of ten-thousand-five-hundred dollars. The first
well, one-hundred-and-sixty feet deep, pumped only ten barrels a day, giving
Wolverine shares a violent chill. The second, also sunk in 1860, at three-hun-
dred feet flowed fifteen-hundred barrels ! Beside this giant the Drake well was
a midget. The Allegheny had knocked out Oil Creek at a stroke, the produc-
tion of the Heydrick spouter doubling that of all the others in the region put
together. It was impossible to tank the oil, which was run into a piece of low
ground and formed a pond through 'which yav/1-boats were rowed fifty rods !
By this means seven-hundred barrels a day could be saved. At last the tubing
was drawn, which decreased the yield and rendered pumping necessary.
The well flowed and pumped about one-hundred-thousand barrels, doing eighty
a day in 1864-5, when the oldest producer in Venango county. It was a celeb-
rity in its time and proved immensely profitable. In December of 1862 Jesse
Heydrick went to Irvine, forty miles up the river, to float down a cargo of
empty barrels. Twenty-five miles from Irvine, on the way back, the river was
frozen from bank to bank. He sawed a channel a mile, ran the barrels to the
well, filled them, loaded them in a flat-boat and arrived at Pittsburg on a cold
Saturday before Christmas. Oil was scarce, the zero-weather having prevented
shipments, and he sold at thirteen dollars a barrel. A thaw set in, the market
was deluged with crude and in four days the price dropped to two dollars !
Stock-fluctuations had no business in the game with petroleum.
Wolverine shares climbed out of sight. Mr. Heydrick bought the whole
batch, the lowest costing him four-thousand dollars and the highest fifteen-
thousand. He sold part of his holdings on the basis of fifteen-hundred-thou-
sand dollars for the well and farm of two-hundred acres, forty-three-thousand
times the original value of the land ! Heydrick Brothers bored seventy wells
on three farms in President township, one of which cost eighteen months' labor
and ten-thousand dollars in money and produced nine barrels of oil. They
UP THE WINDING RIVER. 193
disposed of it, the new owner fussed with it and for five years received fifteen
barrels of oil a day.
Accidents and incidents resulting from the Wolverine operations would fill
a dime-novel. Jesse Heydrick, organizer of the company, went east with two
or three-hundred-thousand dollars, presumably to "play Jesse" with the bulls
and bears of Wall Street. He returned in a year or more destitute of cash, but
loaded with entertaining tales of adventure. He told a thrilling story of his
abduction from a New- York wharf and shipment to Cuba by a band of kidnap-
pers, who stole his money and treated him harshly. He endured severe hard-
ships and barely escaped with his life and a mine of experience. Working his
way north, he resumed surveying, prepared valuable maps of the Butler field
and was a standard authority on oil-matters in the district. For years he was
connected with a pipe-line in Ohio, returning thence to Butler, his present resi-
dence, to engage in oil-operations. Mr. Heydrick is cultured and social, brim-
ful of information and interesting recitals, and not a bilious crank who thinks
the world is growing worse because he lost a fortune. A brother at Franklin
was president of the Oil-City Bank, incorporated in 1864 as a bank of issue and
forced to the wall in 1866, and served a year on the Supreme Bench. James
Heydrick was a skilled surveyor and Charles W. resided at the old homestead
on French Creek. Heydrick Brothers were "the Big Four" in developments
that brought the Allegheny-River region into the petroleum-column. It is
singular that the Heydrick well, located at random thirty-seven years ago, was
the largest ever struck on the banks of the zig-zagged, ox-bowed stream.
It set the pace to serve as an example,
But not another could come up to sample.
Eight rods square on the Heydrick tract leased for five-thousand dollars
and fifty per cent, of the oil, while the Wolverine shares attested the increasing
wealth of the oil-interest and the pitch to which oil-stocks might rise. Hussey
& McBride secured the Henry farm and obtained a large production in 1860-1.
The Walnut Tree and Orchard wells headed the list. Warren & Brother pumped
oil from Pithole to Henry ville, a small town on the flats, of whose houses, hotels,
stores and shipping-platforms no scrap survives. The Commercial Oil-Com-
pany bought the Culbertson farm, above Henry, and drilled extensively on
Muskrat and Culbertson Runs. Patrick McCrea, the first settler on the river
between Franklin and Warren, the first Allegheny ferryman north of Franklin
and the first Catholic in Venango county, migrated from Virginia in 1797 to the
wilds of North-western Pennsylvania. C. Curtiss purchased the McCrea tract of
four-hundred acres in 1861 and stocked it in the Eagle Oil-Company of Phila-
delphia. Fair wells were found on the property and the town of Eagle Rock
attained the dignity of three-hundred buildings. An eagle could fly away with
all that is left of the town and the wells.
Farther along Robert Elliott, who removed from Franklin, owned one-
thousand acres on the south side of the river and built the first mill in President
township. Rev. Ralph Clapp built a blast-furnace in 1854-5, a mile from the
mouth of Hemlock Creek, at the junction of which with the Allegheny a big
hotel, a store and a shop are situated. Mr. Clapp gained distinction in the
pulpit and in business, served in the Legislature and died in 1865. His son,
Edwin E. Clapp, had a block of six-thousand acres, the biggest slice of unde-
veloped territory in Oildom. Productive wells have been sunk on the river-
front, but Clapp invariably refused to sell or lease except once. To Kahle
Brothers, for the sake of his father's friendship for their father, he leased two-
194
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
EDWIN E. CLAPP.
hundred acres, on which many good wells are yielding nicely. Preferring to
keep his own lands untouched until he "got good and ready," he operated
largely at Tidioute, he and his brother, John M. Clapp, acquiring great wealth.
He was chairman of the Producers' Council and active in the memorable move-
ments of 1871-3. He built for his home the President Hotel, furnishing it with
every comfort and luxury except, the one no
bachelor can possess. From him Macadam,
Talbot and Nicholson could have learned
much about road-making. At his own ex-
pense he constructed many a mile of first-
class roads in President, grading, ditching
and leveling in a fashion to make a bicycler's
mouth water. There was not a scintilla of
pride or affectation in his composition. It is
told that an agent of the Standard Oil-Com-
pany appointed a time to meet him " on im-
portant business. ' ' The interview lasted two
minutes. "What is the business?" inter-
rogated Clapp. ''Our company authorizes
me to offer you one-million dollars for your
lands in President and I am prepared to pay
you the money." " Anything else ?" "No."
"Well, the land isn't for sale; good-morning!" Off went Clapp as coolly as
though he had merely received a bid for a bushel of potatoes. Whether true or
not, the story is characteristic. As a friend to swear by, a helper of the poor, a
believer in fair-play, a prime joker and an inimitable weaver of comic yarns few
could equal, none excel, the ' ' President of President. ' ' He died in July, 1897.
Around Tionesta, the county-seat of Forest, numerous holes were punched.
Thomas Mills, who operated in Ohio and missed opening the Sisterville field by
a scratch, drilled in 1861-2. The late George S. Hunter he built Tionesta' s
first bridge and ought to have a monument for enterprise hunted earnestly for
paying territory. Up Tionesta Creek operations extended slowly, but develop-
ments in 1882-3 atoned for the delay. Then Forest county was " the cynosure
of all eyes," each week springing fresh surprises. Balltown had a crop of dry-
holes, followed by wells of all grades from twenty barrels to fifteen-hundred.
At Henry's Mills and on the Cooper lands, north-east of Balltown and running
into Warren county, spouters were decidedly in vogue. Reno No. i well, fin-
ished in December of 1882, flowed twenty-eight-hundred barrels ! Reno No. 2,
McCalmont Oil-Company's No. i, Patterson's and the Anchor Oil-Company's
No. 14 went over the fifteen-hundred mark. In the midst of these gushers
Melvin, Walker & Shannon's duster indicated spotted territory, uncertain as
the verdict of a petit jury. The Forest splurge held the entire oil-trade on the
ragged edge for months. Every time one or more fellows took to the woods
to manipulate a wildcat-well oil took a tumble. Notwithstanding the magni-
tude of the business, with thirty-six-million barrels of oil in stock and untold
millions of dollars invested, the report from Balltown or Cooper of a new strike
caused a bad break. Some owners of important wells worked them as "mys-
teries "to " milk the trade. ' ' Derricks were boarded tightly, armed men kept
intruders from approaching too near and information was withheld or falsified
until the gang of manipulators " worked the market." To offset this leading
dealers employed "scouts," whose mission was to get correct news at all
UP THE WINDING RIVER.
195
hazards. The duties of these trusty fellows involved great labor, night watches,
incessant vigilance and sometimes personal danger. The ' ' mystery ' ' racket and
the introduction of " scouts " were new elements in the business, necessitated
by the peculiar tactics of a small clique whose methods were not always credit-
able. The passing of the Forest field, which declined with unprecedented
rapidity, practically ended the system that had terrorized the oil-exchanges in
New York, Oil City, Bradford and Pittsburg. The collapse of the Cooper pool
was more unexpected than the striking of a gusher would be under any circum-
stances. Its influence upon oil-values was ridiculously disproportionate to its
merits, just as the tail sometimes wags the dog.
Closely allied to Balltown and Cooper in its principal features, its injurious
effects and sudden depreciation, was the field that taught the Forest lesson. On
May nineteenth, 1882, the oil-trade was paralyzed by the report of a big well in
Cherry -Grove township, Warren county, miles from previous developments.
The general condition of the region was prosperous, with an advancing market
and a favorable outlook. The new well the famous ' ' 646 ' ' struck the country
like a cyclone. Nobody had heard a whisper of the finding of oil in the hole
George Dimick was drilling near the
border of Warren and Forest. The
news that it was flowing twenty-five-
hundred barrels flashed over the wires
with disastrous consequences. The
excitement in the oil-exchanges, as the
price of certificates dropped thirty to
fifty per cent, in a few moments, was
indescribable. Margins and small-fry
holders were wiped out in a twinkling
and the losses aggregated millions.
It was a panic of the first water, far-
reaching and ruinous. A plunge from
one-thirty to fifty-five cents for crude
meant distress and bankruptcy to
thousands of producers and persons
carrying oil. Men comfortably off in
the morning were beggared by noon.
Other wells speedily followed "646."
The Murphy, the Mahoopany and
scores more swelled the daily yield
to thirty-thousand barrels. Five-hun-
dred wells were rushed down with the utmost celerity. Big companies bought
lands at big prices and operated on a big scale. Pipe-lines were laid, iron-tanks
erected and houses reared by the hundred. Cherry Grove dwarfed the richest
portions of the region into insignificance. It bade fair to swamp the business,
to flood the world with cheap oil, to compel the abandonment of entire districts
and to crush the average operator. But if the rise of Cherry Grove was vividly
picturesque, its fall was startlingly phenomenal. One dark December morning
the workmen noticed that the Forest Oil-Company's largest gusher had stopped
flowing. Within a week the disease had spread like an epidemic. Spouters
ceased to spout and obstinately declined to pump. The yield was counted by
dozens of barrels instead of thousands. In January one-fourth the wells were
deserted and the machinery removed. Three-hundred wells on April first
IN THE MIDDLE FIELD.
196 SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
yielded hardly two-thousand barrels, three-quarters what ' ' 646 ' ' or the Murphy
had done alone ! The suddenness of the topple cast Oil Creek into the shade
and eclipsed Pithole itself. Piles of junk represented miles of pipe-lines and
acres of tanks. The Cooper fever was breaking out and, with Henry's Mills
and Balltown, repeated in 1883 the hurrah of 1882. For eleven months the
Forest-Warren pools fretted and fumed, producing five-million barrels of oil
and having the trade by the throat. In that brief period Cherry Grove came
and went, Cooper threatened and subsided, and Balltown was bowled out.
Nine-tenths of the operators figured as heavy losers. Pennsylvania's production
shrank from ninety-thousand barrels to sixty-thousand and a healthy reaction
set in. Petroleum-developments often presented remarkable peculiarities, but
the strangest of all was the readiness with which speculators time and again
fell a prey to the schemes of Forest-Warren jobbers, whose "picture is turned
to the wall."
The professional ' ' oil-scout " first became prominent at Cherry Grove. He
was neither an Indian fighter nor a Pinkerton detective, although possessing
the courage and sharpness of both. He. combined a knowledge of woodcraft
and human-nature with keen discernment, acutejudgment and infinite patience.
S. B. Hughes, J. C. Tennent, P. C. Boyle, J. C
McMullen, Frank H. Taylor, Joseph Cappeau,
James Emery and J. H. Rathbun were captains
in the good work of worrying and circumvent-
ing the ' ' mystery ' ' men. Hughes rendered ser-
vice that won the confidence of his employers and
brought him a competence. Never caught nap-
ping, for one special feat he was said to have re-
ceived ten-thousand dollars. It was not uncom-
mon for him and his comrades to keep their
boots on a week at a stretch, to snatch a nap un-
der a tree or on a pile of casing, to creep on all-
fours inside the guard-lines and watch pale Luna
wink merrily and the bright stars twinkle while reclining on the damp ground
to catch the faintest sound from a mystified well. Boyle and Tennent made bril-
liant plays in the campaign of 1882-3. Captain J. T. Jones, failing to get correct
information regarding "646," lost heavily on long oil when the Cherry-Grove
gusher hypnotized the market and sent Tennent from Bradford to size up the
wells and the movements of those manipulating them. Michael Murphy , learning
that Grace & Dimick were quietly drilling a wildcat-well on lot 646, smelled a
large-sized rodent and concluded to share in the sport. For one-hundred dollars
an acre and one-eighth the usufruct Horton, Crary & Co. , the Sheffield tanners,
sold him lot 619, north-east of 646. Murphy had cut his eye-teeth as an im-
porter John S. Davis was his partner of oil-barrels, an exporter of crude and
an operator at Bradford. He pushed a well on the south-west corner of his
purchase and secured lands in the vicinity. Grace & Dimick held back their
well a month to tie up lots and complete arrangements regarding the market.
Everything was managed adroitly. The trade had not a glimmer of suspicion
that a bombshell might be fired at any moment. Murphy's rig burned down on
May fifteenth, he was in Washington trying to close a deed for another tract
and "646 " was put through the sand. On June second Murphy's No. i, which
he guarded strictly after rebuilding the rig, flowed sixteen-hundred barrels.
His No. 2, finished on July third, flowed thirty-six-hundred barrels in twenty-
UP THE WINDING RIVER. 197
four hours ! The Mahoopany and a half-dozen others aided in the demoraliza-
tion of prices. Murphy sold eighty acres of lot 619 for fifty-thousand dollars to
the McCalmont Oil-Company. The Anchor Oil-Company's gusher on lot 647
caught fire, without curtailing the flow, and was burning furiously as "Jim"
Tennent arrived from Bradford. The scouts had their hands full, with the
1 ' white-sand pools ' ' and the keenest masters of ' ' mystery wells ' ' to demand
their best licks.
Watching Murphy's dry-hole on lot 633 was Tennent's initial job. The
Whale Oil-Company's duster on lot 648 next claimed the attention of the scouts.
It had been drilled below the sand-level and the tools left at the bottom. On
Sunday night, July ninth, 1882, Boyle, Tennent and two companions raised the
tools by hand, measured the well with a steel-line and telegraphed their princi-
pals that it was dry. This report jumped the market on Monday morning from
forty-nine cents to sixty. The Shannon well on the Cooper tract needed con-
stant care and the scouts divided the labor. Tennent and Rathbun one night
sought to crawl near the well. A twig snapped off and a guard fired, the ball
grazing "Jim's" ear. In December Boyle and W. C. Edwards drilled Grandin
No. 4 below the sand before the owners knew the rock had been reached. Its
failure surprised the trade as much as the success of "646." Boyle actually
posted the guards to keep intruders away and they refused to let W. W. Hague,
an owner of the well, inside the line until the contractor appeared and permitted
him to pass ! Boyle and Tennent did fine work north of the Cooper field. At
the Shultz well Tennent, in order to make a quick trip of a half-mile to the pipe-
line telegraph, clung to the tail of Cappeau's horse and kept up with the animal's
gallop. Mercury might not have endorsed that style of locomotion, but it
served the purpose and got the news to Jones ahead of everybody else. Ten-
nent played the market skillfully, cleared twenty-five-thousand dollars on Macks-
burg lands and operated with tolerable success in McKean county. Nine years
ago he removed to his thousand-acre prairie-farm in Kansas, the land of sock-
less statesman and nimble grasshoppers.
Boyle, brimful of novel resources, puzzled the "mystery " chaps by his bold
ingenuity and usually beat them at their own game. He squarely overmatched
the field-marshals of manipulation. His fertile brain originated the plan of drill-
ing Grandin No. 4 and other test wells. The night he went to drill the Grace
well through the sand he paid the ferryman at Dunham's Mills notto answer any
calls until morning, thus cutting off all chance of pursuit and surprise. At the
well Boyle wrote an order to deliver the well to Tennent, signing it Pickwick,
and the drillers retired to bed ! Somebody had been there before them and
poured back the sand-pumpings. At the Patterson well Boyle devised a code
of tin-horn signals that outwitted the men inside the derrick and flashed the
result to Gusher City. The number of expedients continually devised was a
marvel. Thanks to the energy and ability of these tireless scouts, of whose
midnight exploits, wild rides, hairbreadth escapes and queer adventures many
pages could be written, the effect of "mysteries" was frequently neutralized
and at length the whole system of guarded wells, bull-dogs and shot-guns was
eliminated.
The Forest-Warren white-sand pools marked a new era in developments,
with new ideas and new methods to hoodoo speculation. Cherry Grove had
wilted from twenty-five-thousand barrels in September to three-thousand in
December, when Cooper Hill loomed above the horizon and Balltown appeared
on deck. Shallow wells had been sunk far up Tionesta Creek in 1862-3. Near
14
I 9 8 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
the two dwellings, saw-mill, school-house and barn dubbed Foxburg, the stamp-
ing-ground of deer-hunters and bark-peelers, Marcus Hulings his name is a
synonym for successful wildcatting in 1876 drilled a well that smacked of oil.
The derrick stood ten years and globules of grease bubbled up from the depths,
a thousand feet beneath. C. A. Shultz, a piano-tuner, taking his cue from the
Hulings well, interested Frederick Morck, a Warren jeweler, and leased the
Fox estate and contiguous lands in 1881. The Blue-Jay and two Darling wells,
small producers, created a ripple which dry-holes evaporated. They were on
Warrant 2991, Howe township, known to fame as the Cooper tract, north-west
of Foxburg. The conditions of the lease required a well at the western end of
the warrant. Cherry Grove was at its zenith, crude was flirting with the fifties
and operators considered the Blue-Jay chick a lean bird. J. Mainwaring leased
one-hundred acres from Morck & Shultz and built a rig at the head of a wild
ravine, in the sunless woodland, a half-mile from
Tionesta Creek. He lost faith and the Main-
waring lease and rig passed to P. M. Shannon,
of Bradford. Born in Clarion county, Philip
Martin Shannon enlisted at fourteen, served
gallantly through the war, traveled as salesman
for a Pittsburg house and in 1870 cast his lot
with the oilmen at Parker. A pioneer at Mil-
lerstown and its burgess in 1874, he filled the
office capably and in 1876 received a big ma-
jority at the Republican primary for the legis-
lative nomination. The county -ring counted
him out. He drifted with the tide to Bullion,
removed to Bradford in 1879, was elected mayor
in 1885 and discharged his official duties with
excellent discretion. Temperate in habits and
P. M. SHANNON. '_* * *
upright in conduct, Mayor Shannon had been
an observer and not a participant in the nether side of oil-region life and knew
where to draw the line. He was a favorite in society, high in Masonic circles
and efficient in securing lands for firms with which he had become connected.
Pittsburg is now his home and he manages the company that is developing the
Wyoming field. Mr. Shannon is always generous and courteous. He could
give a scout "the marble heart," lecture an offender, denounce a wrong or
decline to furnish points regarding his mystery-well in a good-natured way that
disarmed criticism. He retains his old-time geniality and prosperity has not
compelled him to buy hats three sizes larger than he wore at Parker and Mil-
lerstown "in the days of auld lang-syne."
A. B. Walker and T. J. Melvin joined Shannon in his Cooper venture. A
road was cut through the dense forest from the Fox farm-house up the steep
hill to the Mainwaring derrick. An engine and boiler were dragged to the spot
and Captain Haight contracted to drill the hole. Melvin and Walker, believing
the well a failure at eighteen-hundred feet, went to Cherry Grove on July twenty-
fifth, 1882. Shannon stayed to urge the drill a trifle farther and it struck the
sand at one o'clock next day. He drove in two pine-plugs, sent a messenger for
his partners and filled the well with water to shut in the oil. The well wouldn't
consent to be plugged and drowned. The stream broke loose at three o'clock,
hurling the tools and plugs into the Forest ozone. Shannon and Haight, stand-
ing in the derrick, narrowly escaped death as the tools crashed through the
UP THE WINDING RIVER. 199
roof and fell to the floor. More plugs, sediment and old clothes were jammed
down to conceal the true inwardness of the well, news of which was expected to
pulverize the market. Heavy flows following the expulsion of the tools led the
owners to anticipate a big strike. Outposts were established and guards, each
armed with a Winchester rifle, were changed every six hours. The wildcat-
well; eight miles from a telegraph-wire, became an entrenched camp with a half-
dozen wakeful scouts besieging the citadel. Vicksburg was not guarded more
vigilantly. If a twig cracked or an owl hooted a shower of bullets whizzed in
the direction of the noise. Through August the well was permitted to slumber,
oil that forced a passage in spite of the obstructions running into pits inside
' ' the dead-line. ' ' The trade staggered under the adverse fear of the mystery.
Bradford operators formed a syndicate with the owners in lands and speculation
and sold a million barrels of crude short. When everything was ready to spring
the trap some of the parties went to drill out the plugs and usher in the market-
crusher. ' ' We have a jack-pot to open at our pleasure ' ' remarked one of them,
voicing the sentiment of all. None looked for anything smaller than fifteen-
hundred barrels. The four drillers were discharged and two trusted lieutenants
turned the temper-screw and dressed the bits. Ten plugs and a mass of dirt
must be cleaned out. From a distance the scouts timed every motion of the
walking-beam, gluing their eyes to field-glasses that not a symptom of a flow
might slip their eager gaze, " like stout Cortez when he stared at the Pacific
upon a peak in Darien. ' ' Swift horses were fastened to convenient trees, saddled
and bridled for a race to the telegraph-office. A slice of bread and a can of
beans served for food. For days the drilling continued. On September four-
teenth the last splinter of the plugs was extracted, the sand was cut deeper and
the well didn't respond worth a cent ! The faithful scouts, who had stood
manfully between the trade and the manipulators, rushed the report. It was a
bracer to the market. Bears who pinned their hopes to the Shannon well, the
pivot upon which petroleum hinged, scrambled to cover their shorts at heavy
loss. Balltown duplicated some of the Cooper experiences, mystery-wells on
Porcupine Run agitating the trade in the spring of 1883. The Cherry-Grove,
Cooper-Hill and Balltown pools yielded eight or nine- million barrels. Opera-
tions extended to Sheffield and the cream was soon skimmed off. The middle
field had enjoyed a very lively inning.
Two miles back of Trunkeyville, on the west side of the Allegheny, Cal-
vert, Gilchrist & Risley drilled the Venture well in April, 1870, on the Tuttle
farm. Fisher Brothers, of Oil City, and O. D. Harrington, of Titusville, bought
the well for fifteen-thousand dollars when it touched the third sand. It was
eight-hundred feet deep, flowed three-hundred barrels and started the Fagundas
field. The day after it began flowing the Fishers, Adnah Neyhart, Grandin
Brothers and David Bently paid one-hundred-and-twenty-thousand dollars for
the Fagundas farm of one-hundred-and-sixty acres. Mrs. Fagundas, one son
and one daughter died within three months of the sale. Neyhart & Grandin
bought a half-interest in David Beatty's farm for ninety-thousand dollars. The
Lady Burns well, on the Wilkins farm, finished in June, seconded the Venture.
A daily production of three- thousand barrels and a town of twenty-five-hundred
population followed quickly. A mile from Fagundas operations on the Hunter,
Pearson, Guild and Berry farms brought the suburb of Gillespie into being.
The territory lasted and a small yield is obtained to-day. A half-dozen houses,
the Venture derrick, Andrews & Co.'s big store and the office in which whole-
souled M. Compton he's in Pittsburg with the Forest Oil-Company now
200 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
labored as secretary of the Producers' Council, hold the fort on the site of well-
nigh-forgotten Fagundas. William H. Calvert, who projected the Venture
well, died at Sistersville, West Virginia, on February seventeenth, 1896. He
had drilled on Oil Creek and at Pithole, operated in the southern field and was
negotiating for a block of lands near Sistersville when a clot of blood on the
brain cut short his active life.
David Beatty had drilled on Oil Creek in 1859-60 with John Fertig. He
settled on a farm in Warren county "to get away from the oil." His farm was
smothered in oil by the Fagundas development. He removed to the pretty
town of Warren, building an elegant home on the bank of Conewango Creek.
Fortune hounded him and insisted upon heaping up his riches. John Bell drilled
a fifty-barrel well eighty rods above the mansion. Wells surrounding his lot and
in his yard emitted oil. Mr. Beatty resigned himself to the inevitable and lived
at Warren until called to his final rest some years ago. His case resembled the
heroine in Milton Nobles's Phenix, where "the villain still pursued her." The
boys used to relate how a negro, the first man to die at Oil City after the advent
of petroleum, was buried in a lot on the flats. Somebody wanted that precise
spot next day to drill a well and the corpse was planted on the hill-side. The
next week that particular location was selected for a well and the body was
again exhumed. To be sure of getting out of reach of the drill the friends of
the deceased boated his remains down the river to Butler county. Twelve years
later the bones were disinterred an oil-company having leased the old grave-
yard and put in the garden of the dead man's son, to be handy for any further
change of base that may be required.
At East Hickory the Foster well, drilled in 1863, flowed three-hundred bar-
rels of amber oil. Two-hundred wells were sunk in the Hickory district, which
proved as tough as Old Hickory to nineteen-twentieths of the operators. Three
Hickory Creeks East Hickory and Little Hickory on the east and West Hick-
ory enter the river within two miles. Near the mouth of West Hickory three
Scotchmen named McKinley bored a well two-hundred-and-thirty feet in 1861.
They found oil and were preparing to tube the well when the war broke out
and they abandoned the field. A well on the flats, drilled in 1865, flowed two-
hundred barrels of lubricating oil, occasioning a furore. One farm sold for a
hundred-thousand dollars and adjacent lands were snapped up eagerly.
Ninety-five years ago hardy lumbermen settled permanently in Deerfield
township, Warren county, thirty miles above the mouth of Oil Creek. Twenty
years later a few inhabitants, supported by the lumber trade, had collected near
the junction of a small stream with the Allegheny. Bold hills, grand forests,
mountain rills and the winding river, sprinkled with green islets, invested the
spot with peculiar charms. Upon the creek and hamlet the poetic Indian name
of Tidioute, signifying a cluster of islands, was fittingly bestowed. Samuel
Grandin, who located near Pleasantville, Venango county, in 1822, removed to
Tidioute in 1839. He owned large tracts of timber-lands and increased the
mercantile and lumbering operations that gave him prominence and wealth.
Mr. Grandin maintained a high character and died at a ripe age. His oldest
son, John Livingston Grandin, returned from college in 1857 and engaged in
business with his father, assuming almost entire control when the latter retired
from active pursuits. News of Col. Drake's well reached the four-hundred
busy residents of the lumber-center in two days. Col. Robinson, of Titusville,
rehearsed the story of the wondrous event to an admiring group in Samuel
Grandin's store. Young J. L. listened intently, saddled his horse and in an
UP THE WINDING RIVER. 201
hour purchased thirty acres of the Campbell farm, on Gordon Run, below the
village, for three-hundred dollars. An "oil-spring" on the property was the
attraction. Next morning he contracted with H. H. Dennis, a man of mechani-
cal skill, to drill a well " right in the middle of the spring." The following day
a derrick four pieces of scantling towered twenty feet, a spring-pole was pro-
cured, the "spring" was dug to the rock, and the "tool" swung at the first
oil-well in Warren county and among the first in Pennsylvania. Dennis ham-
mered a drilling-tool from a bar of iron three feet long, flattening one end to
cut two-and-a-half inches, the diameter of the hole. In the upper end of the
drill he formed a socket, to hold an inch-bar of round iron, held by a key riveted
though and lengthened as the depth required. Two or three times a day, when
the "tool" was drawn out to sharpen the bit and clean the hole, the key had to
be cut off at each joint ! With this rude outfit drilling began the first week of
September, 1859, and the last week of October the well was down one-hundred-
and-thirty-four feet. Tubing would not go into the hole and it was enlarged to
four inches. The discarded axle of a tram-car, used to carry lumber from Gor-
don Run to the river, furnished iron for the reamer. Days, weeks and months
were consumed at this task. At last, when the hole had been enlarged its full
depth, the reamer was let down " to make sure the job was finished." It stuck
fast, never saw daylight again and the well sunk with so much labor had not
one drop of oil !
Other wells in the locality fared similarly, none finding oil nearer than
Dennis Run, a half-mile distant. There scores of large wells realized fortunes
for their owners. In two years James Parshall was a half-million ahead. He
settled at Titusville and built the Parshall House a mammoth hotel and opera-
house which fire destroyed. The "spring" on the Campell farm is in exist-
ence and the gravel is impregnated with petroleum, supposed to percolate
through fissures in the rocks from Dennis Run.
During the summer of 1860 developments extended across and down the
river a mile from Tidioute. The first producing well in the district, owned by
King & Ferris, of Titusville, started in the fall at three-hundred barrels and
boomed the territory amazingly. It was on the W. W. Wallace lands five- hun-
dred acres below town purchased in 1860 by the Tidioute & Warren Oil-Com-
pany, the third in the world. Samuel Grandin, Charles Hyde and Jonathan
Watson organized it. J. L. Grandin, treasurer and manager of the company, in
eight years paid the stockholders twelve-hundred-thousand dollars dividends on
a capital of ten-thousand ! He leased and sub-leased farms on both sides of the
Allegheny, drilling some dry-holes, many medium wells and a few large ones.
He shipped crude to the seaboard, built pipe-lines and iron-tanks and became
head of the great firm of Grandins & Neyhart. Elijah Bishop Grandin named
from the father of C. E. Bishop, founder of the Oil-City Derrick who had car-
ried on a store at Hydetown and operated at Petroleum Centre, resumed his
residence at Tidioute in 1867 and associated with his brother and brother-in-law,
Adnah Neyhart, in producing, buying, storing and transporting petroleum.
Mr. Neyhart and Joshua Pierce, of Philadelphia, had drilled on Cherry Run, on
Dennis Run and at Triumph and engaged largely in shipping oil to the coast.
Pierce & Neyhart J. L. Grandin was their silent partner dissolved in 1869.
The firm of Grandins & Neyhart, organized in 1868, was marvelously successful.
Its high standing increased confidence in the stability of financial and commer-
cial affairs in the oil-regions. The brothers established the Grandin Bank and
Neyhart, besides handling one-fourth of the crude produced in Pennsylvania,
202
SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
opened a commission-house in New York to sell refined, under the skilled
management of John D. Archbold, now vice-president of the Standard Oil-
Company. They and the Fisher Brothers owned the Dennis Run and Triumph
pipe-lines and piped the oil from Fagundas, where they drilled a hundred pro-
lific wells and were the largest operators. They bought properties in different
portions of the oil-fields, extended their pipe-lines to Titusville and erected
tankage at Parker and Miller Farm.
The death of Mr. Neyhart terminated
their connection with oil-shipments.
" There is no parley with death."
Owning thousands of acres in War-
ren and Forest counties, the Grandins
were heavily interested in develop-
ments at Cherry Grove, Balltown and
Cooper. As those sections declined
they gradually withdrew from active
oil-operations, sold their pipe-lines
and wound up their bank. J. L.
Grandin removed to Boston and E.
B. to Washington, to embark in new
enterprises and enjoy, under most
favorable conditions, the fruits of
their prosperous career at Tidioute.
Their business for ten years has been
chiefly loaning money, farming and
lumbering in the west. They purchased seventy-two-thousand acres in the Red-
River Valley of Dakota known the world over as "the Dalrymple Farm "
and in 1895 harvested six-hundred-thousand bushels of wheat and oats.
They employ hundreds of men and horses, scores of ploughs and reapers and
i.AJfl
UP THE WINDING RIVER. 203
steam-threshers and illustrate how to farm profitably on the biggest scale.
With Hunter & Cummings, of Tidioute, and J. B. White, of Kansas City, as
partners, they organized the Missouri -Lumber- and -Mining- Company. The
company owns two-hundred-and-forty-thousand acres of timber-land in Mis-
souri and cut fifty-million feet of lumber last year in its vast saw-mills at Gran-
din, Carter county. Far-seeing, clear-headed, of unblemished repute and lib-
eral culture, such men as J. L. and E. B. Grandin reflect honor upon humanity
and deserve the success an approving conscience and the popular voice com-
mend heartily.
Above Tidioute a number of "farmers' wells" shallow holes sunk by
hand and soon abandoned flickered and collapsed. On the islands in the
river small wells were drilled, most of which the great flood of 1865 destroyed.
Opposite the town, on the Economite lands, operations began in 1860. Steam-
power was used for the first time in drilling. The wells ranged from five bar-
rels to eighty, at one-hundred-and-fifty feet. They belonged to the Economites,
a German society that enforced celibacy and held property in common. About
1820 the association founded the village of Harmony, Butler county, having an
exclusive colony and transacting business with outsiders through the medium
of two trustees. The members wore a plain garb and were distinguished for
morality, simplicity, industry and strict religious principles. Leaving Harmony,
they located in the Wabash Valley, lost many adherents, returned to Pennsyl-
vania and built the town of Economy, in Beaver county, fifteen miles below
Pittsburg. They manufactured silks and wine, mined coal and accumulated
millions of dollars. A loan to William Davidson, owner of eight-thousand
acres in Limestone township, Warren county, obliged them to foreclose the
mortgage and bid in the tract. Their notions of economy applied to the wells,
which they numbered alphabetically. The first, A well, yielded ten barrels,
B pumped fifty and C flowed seventy. The trustees, R. L. Baker and Jacob
Henrici, erected a large boarding-house for the workmen, whose speech and
manners were regulated by printed rules. Pine and oak covered the Davidson
lands, which fronted several miles on the Allegheny and stretched far back into
the township. Of late years the Economite Society has been disintegrating,
until its membership has shrunk to a dozen aged men and women. Litigation
and mismanagement have frittered away much of its property. It seems odd
that an organization holding "all things in common" should, by the perversity
of fate, own some of the nicest oil-territory in Warren, Butler and Beaver coun-
ties. A recent strike on one of the southern farms flows sixty barrels an hour.
Natural gas lighted and heated Harmony and petroleum appears bound to stick
to the Economites until they have faded into oblivion.
Below the Economite tract numerous wells strove to impoverish the first
sand. G. I. Stowe's, drilled in 1860, pumped eight barrels a day for six years.
The Hockenburg, named from a preacher who wrote an essay on oil, averaged
twelve barrels a day in 1861. The Enterprise Mining-and-Boring-Company of
New-York leased fifteen rods square on the Tipton farm to sink a shaft seven
feet by twelve. Bed-rock was reached at thirty feet, followed by ten feet of
shale, ten of gray sand, forty of slate and soap-rock and twenty of first sand.
The shaft, cribbed with six-inch plank to the bottom of the first sand, tightly
caulked to keep out water, was abandoned at one-hundred-and-sixty feet, a gas-
explosion killing the superintendent and wrecking the timbers. Of forty wells
on the Tipton farm in 1 860-61 not a fragment remained in 1866.
Tidioute's laurel wreath was Triumph Hill, the highest elevation in the
204
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
neighborhood. Wells nine-hundred feet deep pierced sixty feet of oil-bearing-
sand, which produced steadily for years. Grandins, Fisher Brothers, M. G.
Gushing, E. E. Clapp, John M. Clapp and other leading operators landed boun-
teous pumpers. The east side of the hill was a forest of derricks, crowded like
trees in a grove. Over the summit and down the west side the sand and the
development extended. For five years Triumph was busy and prosperous,
yielding hundreds-of-thousands of barrels of oil and advancing Tidioute to a
town of five-thousand population. Five churches, the finest school-buildings in
the county, handsome houses, brick blocks, superior hotels and large stores
greeted the eye of the visitor. The Grandin Block, the first brick structure,
built of the first brick made in Deerfield township, contained an elegant opera-
house. Three banks, three planing-mills, two foundries and three machine-
shops flourished. A dozen refineries turned out merchantable kerosene.
Water-works were provided and an iron bridge spanned the river. Good
order was maintained and Tidioute still a tidy village played second fiddle
to no town in Oildom for intelligence, enterprise and all-round attractiveness.
The tidal wave effervesced at intervals clear to the Colorado district.
Perched on a hill in the hemlock woods, Babylon was the rendezvous of sports,
VIEW ON WEST SIDE Of
strumpets and plug-uglies, who stole, gambled, caroused and did their best to
break all the commandments at once. Could it have spoken, what tales of
horror that board-house under the evergreen tree might recount ! Hapless
wretches were driven to desperation and fitted for the infernal regions. Lust
and liquor goaded men to frenzy, resulting sometimes in homicide or suicide.
In an affray one night four men were shot, one dying in an hour and another in
six weeks. Ben. Hogan, who laughed at the feeble efforts of the township-con-
stable to suppress his resort, was arrested, tried for murder and acquitted on
the plea of self-defence. The shot that killed the first victim was supposed to
have been fired by "French Kate," Hogan' s mistress. She had led the demi-
monde in Washington and led susceptible congressmen astray. Ben met her
at Pithole, where he landed in the summer of 1865 and ran a variety-show that
would make the vilest on the Bowery blush to the roots of its hair. He had
been a prize-fighter on land, a pirate at sea, a bounty -jumper and blockade-
runner, and prided himself on his title of the " Wickedest Man in the World."
Sentenced to death for his crimes against the government, President Lincoln
pardoned him and he joined the myriad reckless spirits that sought fresh adven-
UP THE WINDING RIVER. 205
tures in the Pennsylvania oil-fields. In a few months the Scripture legend
"Babylon has fallen" applied to the malodorous Warren town. The tiger
can "change his spots" by moving from one spot to another and so could
Hogan. He was of medium height, square-shouldered, stout-limbed, exceed-
ingly muscular and trained to use his fists. He fought Tom Allen at Omaha,
sported at Saratoga and in 1872 ran " The Floating Palace " a boat laden with
harlots and whiskey at Parker. The weather growing too cold and the law
too hot for comfort, he opened a den and built an opera-house at Petrolia. In
"Hogan's Castle " many a clever young man learned the short-cut to disgrace
and perdition. Now and then a frail girl met a sad fate, but the carnival of
debauchery went on without interruption. Hogan put on airs, dressed in the
loudest style and would have been the burgess had not the election-board
counted him out ! A fearless newspaper forcing him to leave Petrolia, Hogan
went east to engage in "the sawdust swindle," returned to the oil-regions in
1875, built an opera-house at Elk City, decamped from Bullion, rooted at Tar-
port and Bradford and departed by night for New York. Surfeited with revelry
and about to start for Paris to open a joint, he heard music at a hall on Broad-
way and sat down to wait for the show to begin. Charles Sawyer, "the con-
verted soak, ' ' appeared shortly, read a chapter from the Bible and told of his
rescue from the gutter. Ben was deeply impressed, signed the pledge at the
close of the service, agonized in his room until morning and on his knees
implored forgiveness. How surprised the angels must have been at the spec-
tacle of the prodigal in this attitude ! After a fierce struggle, to quote his own
words, "peace filled my soul chock-full and I felt awful happy." He claimed
to be converted and set to work earnestly to learn the alphabet, that he might
read the Scriptures and be an evangelist. He married " French Kate, " who
also professed religion, but it didn't strike in very deep and she eloped with a
tough. Mr. Moody welcomed Hogan and advised him to traverse the country
to offset as far as possible his former misdeeds. Amid the scenes of his grossest
offenses his reception varied. High-toned Christians, who would not touch a
down-trodden wretch with a ten-foot pole, turned up their delicate noses and
refused to countenance "the low impostor." They forgot that he sold his
jewelry and most of his clothes, lived on bread and water and endured manifold
privations to become a bearer of the gospel-message. Even ministers who pro-
claimed that "the blood of Christ cleanses from all sin " doubted Hogan's
salvation and showed him the cold shoulder in the chilliest orthodox fashion.
He stuck manfully and for eighteen years has labored zealously in the vineyard.
Judging from his struggles and triumphs, is it too much to believe that a front
seat and a golden crown are reserved for the reformed pugilist, felon, robber,
assassin of virtue and right bower of Old Nick ? Unlike straddlers in politics
and piety, who want to go to Heaven on velvet-cushions and pneumatic tires.
" He doesn't stand on one foot fust,
An' then stand on the other,
An' on which one he feels the wust
He couldn't tell you nuther."
The expectation of an extension of the belt northward was not fulfilled
immediately. Wells at Irvineton, on the Brokenstraw and tributary runs, failed
to find the coveted fluid. Captain Dingley drilled two wells on Sell's Run,
three miles east of Irvineton, in 1873, without slitting the jugular. A test well
at Warren, near the mouth of Conewango Creek, bored in 1864 and burned as
pumping was about to begin, had fair sand and a mite of oil. John Bell's
operations in 1875 opened an amber pool up the creek that for a season crowded
206
SKETCHES IN CRUDE OIL.
LEWIS F. WATSON.
the hotels three deep with visitors. They bored dozens of wells, yet the pro-
duction never reached one-thousand barrels and in four months the patch was
cordoned by dry holes and as quiet as a cemetery. The crowds exhaled like
morning dew. Warren is a pretty town of four-thousand population, its location
and natural advantages offering rare inducements to people of refinement and
enterprise. Its site was surveyed in 1795 and the
first shipment of lumber to Pittsburg was made
in 1801. Incorporated as a borough in 1832, rail-
road communication with Erie was secured in
1859, with Oil City in 1867 and with Bradford in
1881. Many of the private residences are models
of good taste. Massive brick-blocks, solvent banks,
churches, stores, high-grade schools, shaded streets
and modern conveniences evidence its substantial
prosperity. Hon. Thomas Struthers he built sec-
tions of the Philadelphia & Erie and the Oil-Creek
railroads and established big iron-works donated
a splendid brick building for a library, opera-house
and post-office. His grandson, who inherited his
millions and died in February, 1896, was a mild
edition of " Coal-Oil Johnnie " in scattering money.
Lumbering, the principal industry for three gene-
rations, enriched the community. Col. Lewis F. Watson represented the district
twice in Congress and left an estate of four-millions, amassed in lumber and oil.
He owned most of the township bearing his name. Hon. Charles W. Stone, his
successor, ranks with the foremost members of the House in ability and influ-
ence. A Massachusetts boy, he set out in life as a teacher, came to \Varren to
take charge of the academy, was county-superintendent, studied law and rose to
eminence at the bar. He was elected Lieutenant-Governor of the State, served
as Secretary of the Commonwealth and would be
Governor of Pennsylvania to-day had "the fore-
sight of the Republicans been as good as their
hindsight. ' ' He has profitable oil-interests, is serv-
ing his fourth term in Congress and may be nomi-
nated the fifth time. Alike fortunate in his political
and professional career, his social relations, his
business connections and his personal friendships,
Charles W. Stone holds a place in public esteem
few men are privileged to attain.
At Clarendon and Stoneham hundreds of snug
wells yielded three-thousand barrels a day from a
regular sand that did not exhaust readily. South-
ward the Garfield district held on fairly and a nar-
row-gauge railroad was built to Farnsworth. The
Wardwell pool, at Glade, four miles east of War-
ren, fizzed after the manner of Cherry Grove, rich
in buried hopes and dissipated greenbacks. P. M. Smith and Peter Grace
drilled the first well a sixty-barreler close to the ferry in July of 1873. Dry-
holes and small wells alternated with provoking uncertainty until J. A. Gart-
land's twelve-hundred-barrel gusher on the Clark farm, in May of 1885, inaugu-
rated a panic in the market that sent crude down to fifty cents. The same day
CHARLES W. STONE.
UP THE WINDING RIVER. 207
the Union Oil-Company finished a four-hundred-barrel spouter and May ended
with fifty-six wells producing and a score of dusters. June and July continued
the refrain, values see-sawing as reports of dry-holes or fifteen-hundred-barrel-
strikes, some of them worked as " mysteries," bamboozled the trade. Ward-
well's production ascended to twelve-thousand barrels and fell by the dizziest
jumps to as many hundred, the porous rock draining with the speed of a lightning-
calculator. Tiona developed a lasting deposit of superior oil. Kane has a
tempting streak, in which Thomas B. Simpson and other Oil-City parties are
interested. Gas has been found at Wilcox, Johnsonburg and Ridgway, Elk
county, taking a slick h-and in the game. Kinzua, four miles north-east of Ward-
well, revealed no particular cause why the spirit of mortal ought to be proud.
Although Forest and Warren, with a slice of Elk thrown in, were demoralizing
factors in 1882-3-4, their aggregate output would only be a light luncheon for
the polar bear in McKean county.
The Tidioute belt, varying in narrowness from a few rods to a half-mile,
was one of the most satisfactory ever discovered. When lessees fully occupied
the flats Captain A. J. Thompson drilled a two-hundred-barrel well on the point,
at the junction of Dingley and Dennis Runs. Quickly the summit was scaled
and amid drilling wells, pumping wells, oil-tanks and engine-houses the town
of Triumph was created. Triumph Hill turned out as much money to the
acre as any spot in Oildom. The sand was the thickest often ninety to one-
hundred-and-ten feet and the purest the oil-region afforded. Some of the
wells pumped twenty years. Salt-water was too plentiful for comfort, but half-
acre plots were grabbed at one-half royalty and five-hundred dollars bonus.
Wells jammed so closely that a man could walk from Triumph to New London
and Babylon on the steam-boxes connecting them. Percy Shaw he built the
Shaw House had a " royal flush " on Dennis Run that netted two-hundred-
thousand dollars. From an investment of fifteen-thousand dollars E. E. and
J. M. Clapp cleared a half-million.
''Spirits" located the first well at Stoneham and Cornen Brothers' gasser
at Clarendon furnished the key that unlocked Cherry Grove. Gas was piped
from the Cornen well to Warren and Jamestown. Walter Horton was the
moving spirit in the Sheffield field, holding interests in the Darling and Blue
Jay wells and owning forty-thousand acres of land in Forest county. McGrew
Brothers, of Pittsburg, spent many thousands seeking a pool at Garland. Gran-
din & Kelly's operations below Balltown exploded the theory that oil would
not be found on the south side of Tionesta Creek. Cherry Grove was at its
apex when, in July of 1884, with Farns worth and Garfield boiling over, two
wells on the Thomas farm, a mile south-east of Richburg, flowed six-hundred
barrels apiece. They were among the largest in the Allegany district, but a
three-line mention in the Bradford Era was all the notice given the pair.
To the owner of a tract near "646," who offered to sell it for fifty-thousand
dollars, a Bradford operator replied: "I would take it at your figure if I
thought my check would be paid, but I'll take it at forty-five-thousand whether
the check is paid or not !" The check was not accepted.
Tack Brothers drilled a dry-hole twenty-six-hundred feet in Millstone town-
ship, Elk county. Grandin & Kelly drilled four-thousand feet in Forest county
and got lots of geological information, but no oil.
Get off the train at Trunkeyville a station-house and water-tank and
climb up the hill towards Fagundas. After walking through the woods a mile
an opening appears. A man is plowing. The soil looks too poor to raise
208 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
grasshoppers, yet that man during the oil-excitement refused an offer of sixty-
thousand dollars for this farm. His principal reason was that he feared a suit-
able house into which to move his family could not be obtained! On a little
farther a pair of old bull-wheels, lying unused, tells that the once productive
Fagundas pool has been reached. A short distance ahead on an eminence is a
church. This is South Fagundas. No sound save the crowing of a chanticleer
from a distant farm-yard breaks the silence. The merry voices heard in the
seventies are no longer audible, the drill and pump are not at work, the dwell-
ings, stores and hotels have disappeared. The deserted church stands alone.
A few landmarks linger at Fagundas proper. There is one store and no place
where the weary traveler can quench his thirst. The nearest resemblance to a
drinking-place is a boy leaning over a barrel drinking rain-water while another
lad holds him by the feet. Fagundas is certainly "dry." The stranger is
always taken to the Venture well. Its appearance differs little from that of
hundreds of other abandoned wells. The conductor and the casing have not
been removed. Robert W. Pimm, who built the rig, still lives at Fagundas.
He will be remembered by many, for he is a jovial fellow and was "one of the
boys." The McQuade the biggest in the field the Bird and the Red Walk-
ing-beam were noted wells. If Dr. Stillson were to hunt up the office where
he extracted teeth "without pain " he would find the building used as a poultry-
house. Men went to Fagundas poor and departed with sufficient wealth to live
in luxury the rest of their lives ; others went wealthy and lost everything in a
vain search for the greasy fluid. Passing through what was known as Gillespie
and traversing three miles of a lonely section, covered with scrub-oak and
small pine, Triumph is reached. It is not the Triumph oil-men knew twenty-
five years ago, when it had four-thousand population, four good hotels, two
drug-stores, four hardware-stores, a half-dozen groceries and many other places
of business. No other oil-field ever held so many derricks upon the same area.
The Clapp farm has a production of twelve barrels per day. Traces of the
town are almost completely blotted out. The pilgrim traveling over the hill
would never suspect that a rousing oil-town occupied the farm on which an
industrious Swede has a crop of oats. Along Babylon hill, once dotted with
derricks thickly as trees in the forest, nothing remains to indicate the spot
where stood the ephemeral town.
"We are such stuff as dreams are made of."
John Henderson, a tall, handsome man, came from the east during the oil-
excitement in Warren county and located at Garfield. In a fight at a gambling-
house one night George Harkness was thrown out of an upstairs-window and
his neck broken. Foul play was suspected, although the evidence implicated no
one, and the coroner's jury returned a verdict of accidental death. Harkness
had left a young bride in Philadelphia and was out to seek his fortune. Hen-
derson, feeling in a degree responsible for his death, began sending anonymous
letters to the bereaved wife, each containing fifty to a hundred dollars. The
letters were first mailed every month from Garfield, then from Bradford, then
from Chicago and for three years from Montana. In 1893 she received from
the writer of these letters a request for an interview. This was granted, the
acquaintance ripened into love and the pair were married ! Henderson is a
wealthy stockman in Montana. In 1867 an English vessel went to pieces in a
terrible storm on the coast of Maine. The captain and many passengers were
drowned. Among the saved were two children, the captain's daughters. One
was adopted by a merchant of Dover, N. H. He gave her a good education,
UP THE WINDING RIVER. 209
she grew up a beautiful woman and it was she who married George Harkness
and John Henderson.
Balltown was the chief pet of T.. J. Vandergrift, now head and front of the
Woodland Oil-Company, and he harvested bushels of money from the middle-
field. " Op " Vandergrift is not an apprentice in petroleum. He added to his
reputation in the middle-field leading the opposition to the mystery-dodge.
Napoleon or Grant was not a finer tactician.
His clever plans were executed without a hitch
or a Waterloo. He neither lost his temper nor
wasted his powder. The man who "fights the
devil with fire " is apt to run short of ammuni-
tion, but Vandergrift knew the ropes, kept his
own counsel, was "cool as a cucumber" and
won in an easy canter. He is obliging, social,
manfully independent and a zealous worker in
the Producers' Association. It is narrated thai
he went to New York three years ago to close
a big deal for Ohio territory he had been asked
to sell. He named the price and was told a
sub-boss at Oil City must pass upon the matter.
"Gentlemen," he said, " I am not going to Oil
City on any such errand. I came prepared to
transfer the property and, if you want it, I shall T ' J>
be in the city until noon to-morrow to receive the money !" The cash three-
hundred-thousand dollars was paid at eleven o'clock. Mr. Vandergrift has
interests in Pennsylvania, Ohio, West- Virginia and Kentucky. He knows a
good horse, a good story, a good lease or a good fellow at sight and a wildcat-
well does not frighten him off the track. His home is at Jamestown and his
office at Pittsburg.
The Anchor Oil-Company's No. i, the first well finished near "646," in
Warren county, flowed two-thousand barrels a day on the ground until tanks
could be provided. It burned when flowing a thousand barrels and for ten
days could not be extinguished. One man wanted tc steam it to death, another
to drown it, another to squeeze its life out, another to smother it with straw,
another to dig a hole and cut off the flow, another to roll a big log over it,
another to blow out its brains with dynamite, another to blind it with carbolic
acid, another to throw up earth-works and so on until the pestered owners
wished five-hundred cranks were in the asylum at North Warren. Pipes were
finally attached in such a way as to draw off the oil and the flame died out.
The first funeral at Fagundas was a novelty. A soap-peddler, stopping at
the Rooling House one night, died of delirium-tremens. He was put into a
rough coffin and a small party set off to inter the corpse. Somebody thought
it mean to bury a fellow-creature without some signs of respect. The party
returned to the hotel with the body, a large crowd assembled in the evening,
flowers decorated the casket, services were conducted and at dead of night
two-hundred oil-men followed the friendless stranger to his grave.
This year, at a drilling well near Tiona, the workmen of Contractor Meeley
were surprised to strike oil three feet from the surface. A stream of the real
stuff flowed over the top of the derrick, scattering seven men who happened to
be standing on the floor. Fortunately no fire was about the structure, hence
a thorough soaking with seventy-cent crude was the chief damage to the crew
210
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
and the spectators. Visions of a new sand close to the grass-roots filled the
minds of all beholders. At that rate every man, woman, boy, girl and baby
who could burrow a yard into the earth might have a paying well. The cool-
headed foreman, R. G. Thompson, decided to investigate before ordering
tankage and taking down the tools. He discovered that the derrick had been
set directly above a six-inch pipe-line, which the bit had punctured, thus let-
ting the oil escape under the heavy pressure of a fifty-ton pump. Word was
sent to the pump-station to shut off the flow, a new joint of pipe was put in and
drilling proceeded to the third sand without further disturbance.
One bright day in the summer of 1873 an active youth, beardless and boy-
ish in appearance, dropped into Fagundas. With little cash, but no end of en-
ergy and pluck, he soon picked up a lease. Fortune smiled upon him and he
followed the surging tide to the different
pastures as they came into line. He ope-
rated at Bradford, Tiona, Clarendon, in
Clarion county, in Ohio and Indiana.
West Virginia has been his best hold for
some years, and the boys all know W. H.
Staley as a live oilman, who has stayed
with the procession two-dozen years.
Stories of the late E. E. Clapp's rare
humor and rare goodness of heart might
be recited by the score. He never grew
weary helping the poor and the unfor-
tunate. Once a zealous Methodist minis-
ter, whose meagre salary was not half-
paid, thought of leaving his mission from
lack of support. Clapp heard the tale
and handed the good man a sealed enve-
lope, telling him not to open it until he
reached home and gave it to his wife. It
contained a check for five-hundred-dol-
lars. Like thousands of producers, Clapp was sued by the torpedo-monopoly
for alleged infringement of the Roberts patent. Meeting Col. E. A. L. Roberts
at Titusville while the suit was pending, he was invited to go through the great
building Roberts Brothers were completing. The delegate from President
peered into the corners of the first room as though looking for something.
The Colonel's curiosity was aroused and he inquired what the visitor meant.
"Oh," came the quick rejoinder, "I'm only trying to find where the twenty-
thousand-dollars I've paid you for torpedoes may be built in these walls !" A
laugh followed and Roberts proposed to square the suit, which was done
forthwith. At a country -fair E. Harvey, the Oil-City music-dealer, played and
sang one of Gerald Massey's sublime compositions with thrilling effect. Among
the eager listeners was E. E. Clapp, beside whom stood a farmer's wife. The
woman shouted to Harvey: "Tech it off agin, stranger, but don't make so
much noise yerself !" Poor Harvey dead long ago subsided and Clapp took
up the expression, which he often quoted at the expense of loquacious ac-
quaintances. Humanity lost a friend when Edwin Emmett Clapp left the
smooth roads of President to walk the golden streets of the New Jerusalem.
Up the winding river proved in not a few instances the straight path to a
handsome fortune, while some found only shoals and quicksands.
H. STALEY.
THE AMEN CORNER.
Better a kink in the hair than a kink in the character.
Good creeds are all right, but good deeds are the stuff that won't shrink
in the washing.
Domestic infidelity does more harm than unbelieving infidelity and hearsay
knocks heresy galley-west as a mischief-maker.
Stick to the right with iron nerve,
Nor from the path of duty swerve,
Then your reward you will deserve.
The Baptists of Franklin offered Rev. Dr. Lorimer, the eminent Chicago
divine, a residence and eight-thousand dollars a year to become their pastor.
How was that for a church in a town of six-thousand population ?
' ' Pray pray pray for : The good minister bent down to catch the whis-
per of the dying operator, whom he had asked whether he should petition the
throne of grace "pray for five-dollar oil !"
St. Joseph's church, Oil City, is the finest in the oil-region and has the finest
altar in the state. Father Carroll, for twenty years in charge of the parish, is a
priest whose praises all denominations carol.
You "want to bean angel?"
Well, no need to look solemn ;
If you haven't got what you desire,
Put an ad. in the want column.
The Presbyterian church at Rouseville, torn down years ago, was built, paid
for, furnished handsomely and run nine months before having a settled pastor.
Not a lottery, fair, bazaar or grab-bag scheme was resorted to in order to raise
the funds.
The Salvation Army once scored a sensational hit in the oil-regions. A
lieutenant struck a can of nitro-glycerine with his little tambourine and every
house in the settlement entertained more or less Salvation-Army soldier for a
month after the blow-up.
" Like a sawyer's work is life
The present makes the flaw,
And the only field for strife
Is the inch before the saw."
"What are the wages of sin ?" asked the teacher of Ah Sin, the first Chi-
nese laundryman at Bradford, who was an attentive member of a class in the
Sunday-school. Promptly came the answer : " Sebenty-flive cente a dozen ;
no checkee, no washee !"
The first sound of a church-bell at Pithole was heard on Saturday evening,
March 24, 1866, from the Methodist- Episcopal belfry. The first church-bell at
Oil City was hung in a derrick by the side of the Methodist church, on the site
of a grocery opposite the Blizzard office. At first Sunday was not observed.
Flowing-wells flowed and owners of pumping wells pumped as usual. Work
went right along seven days in the week, even by people who believed the
highest type of church was not an engine-house, with a derrick for its tower, a
well for its Bible and a tube spouting oil for its preacher.
" If you have gentle words and looks, my friends,
To spare for me if you have tears to shed
That I have suffered keep them not I pray
Until I hear not, see not, being dead."
Many people regard religion as they do small-pox ; they desire to have it
as light as possible and are very careful that it does not mark them. Most peo-
ple when they perform an act of charity prefer to have it like the measles on
the outside where it can be seen. Oil-region folks are not built that way.
UP THE ALLEGHENY RIVER.
XL
A BEE-LINE FOR THE NORTH.
THE GREAT BRADFORD REGION LOOMS UP MILES OF FIRST-CLASS TERRITORY
LEADING OPERATORS JOHN MCKEOWN'S MILLIONS MANY LIVELY TOWNS
OVER THE NEW- YORK BORDER ALL ABOARD FOR RICHBURG CROSSING
INTO CANADA SHAW'S STRIKE THE POLAR REGION PLAYS A STRONG HAND
IN THE GAME OF TAPPING NATURE'S LABORATORY.
' Like youthful steers unyoked, they take their courses north." Shakespeare.
' Be sure you're right, then go ahead." Davy Crockett.
' Jes foller de no'th star an' yu'll come out right, shuah." Joel Chandler Harris.
' Better a year of Bradford than a cycle of Cathay." L. M. Morton.
' He did it with all his heart, and prospered." II Chronicles xxxi: 21.
' The Temple of Fame has, you see, many departments." Walter Be sant.
' Bid the devil take the hindmost." Butler.
' When Greeksjoined Greeks then was the tug of war." Lee.
' Nature must give way to art." Dean Swift.
' The wise and active conquer by daring to attempt.'' Rowe.
' God helps them that help themselves." Franklin.
' The north breathes steadily beneath the stars." Shelley.
LIMESTONE *
NEW YORK
RICHBURG *
IL CREEK and its
varied branches, Pit-
hole and its suburbs,
Forest and Warren
had figured creditably in
oil-developments, but the
Mastodon of the North was
yet to come. "The goal
of yesterday shall be the
starting point of to-mor-
row" is especially true of
oil-operations. At times
men have supposed the
limits of juicy territory had
been reached, only to be
startled by the unexpected
opening of a larger, grand-
er field than any that preceded it. Guessing the weather a month ahead is
child's play in comparison with guessing where oil may be found in paying
quantity. Geology is liable to shoot wide of the mark, so that the drill is the
one indisputable test, from which there is no appeal for an injunction or a
reversal of the verdict. Years of wating sharpened the appetite of the polar
bear for the feast to be spread in McKean county and across the New- York
border. Tempting tidbits prepared the hungry animal to digest the rich courses
that were to follow in close succession, until the whole world was cloyed and
gorged, and surfeited with petroleum. It could not hold another mouthful, and
i5 213
M'KEAN COUNTY, PA.
214
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
the surplus had to be stored in huge tanks ready for the demand certain to
come some day and empty the vast receptacles of their last drop.
" Still linger, in our northern clime,
Some remnants of the good old time."
The United States Land-Company, holding a quarter-million acres in
McKean and adjoining counties, in 1837 sent Col. Levitt C. Little from New
Hampshire to look after its interests. He located on Tuna Creek, eight miles
from the southern border of New- York state. The Websters arrived in 1838,
journeying by canoe from Olean. Other families settled in the valley, founding
the hamlet of Littleton, which in 1858 adopted the name of Bradford and became
a borough in 1872, with Peter T. Kennedy as burgess. The vast forests were
divided into huge blocks, such as the Bingham, Borden, Clark & Babcock,
Kingsbury and Quintuple tracts. Lumber was rafted to distant points and
thousands of hardy woodmen "shantied" in rough huts each winter. They
beguiled the long evenings singing coarse songs, playing cards, imbibing the
vintage of Kentucky or New England from a black jug and telling stories so
bald the mules drooped their ears to hide their blushes. But they were open-
hearted, sternly honest, sticklers for fair-play, hard-working and admirable
forerunners of the approaching civilization. To the sturdy blows of the rugged
chopper and raftsman all classes are indebted for fuel, shelter and innumerable
comforts. Like the rafts they steered to Pittsburg and the wild beasts they
hunted, most of these brave fellows have drifted away never to return.
Six-hundred inhabitants dwelt peacefully at Bradford ten years after the
Pithole bubble had been blown and pricked. The locomotive and track of a
branch of the Erie Railroad had supplanted A. W. NewelPs rude engine, which
transported small loads to and from Carrollton. An ancient coach, weather-
beaten and worm-eaten, sufficed for the scanty passenger-traffic and the quiet
borough bade fair to stay in the old rut indefinitely. The collection of frames
labeled Tarport a suit of tar and feathers presented to a frisky denizen begot
the name snuggled on a muddy road a mile northward. Seven miles farther,
at Limestone, the "spirits" directed Job Moses to buy ten-thousand acres of
land. He bored a half-dozen shallow wells in 1864, getting some oil and gas.
Jonathan Watson skirmished two miles east of
Limestone, finding slight tinges of greasiness.
A mile south-west of Moses the Crosby well was
dry. Another mile south the Olmsted well, on
the Crooks farm, struck a vein of oil at nine-
hundred feet and flowed twenty barrels on July
fourteenth, 1875. The sand was poor and dry-
holes south and west augured ill for the terri-
tory. Frederick Crocker drilled a duster early
in 1875 on the Kingsbury lands, east side of Tuna
Creek. He had grit and experience and leased
an angular piece of ground formed by a bend of
the creek for his second venture. It was part of
the Watkins farm, a mile above Tarport. A
half-mile south-west, on the Hinchey farm, the
Foster Oil-Company had sunk a twenty-barrel
well in 1872, which somehow passed unnoticed.
On September twenty-sixth, 1875, from a shale and slate at nine-hundred feet,
the Crocker well flowed one-hundred-and-seventy barrels. This opened the
FREDERICK CROCKER.
A BEE-LINE FOR THE NORTH. 215
gay ball which was to transmute the Tuna Valley from its arcadian simplicity to
the intense bustle of the grandest petroleum-region the world has ever known.
The valley soon echoed and re-echoed the music of the tool-dresser and rig-
builder and the click of the drill as well as the vigorous profanity of the
imported teamster. Frederick Crocker, who drilled on Oil Creek in 1860 and
devised the valve which kept the Empire well alive, had won another victory
and the great Bradford field was born. He lived at Titusville fifteen years,
erected the home afterwards occupied by Dr. W. B. Roberts, sold his Bradford
property, operated in the Washington district and died at Idlewild on February
twenty-second, 1895. Mr. Crocker possessed real genius, decision and the
qualities which "from the nettle danger pluck the flower success." Active to
the close of his long and useful eighty-three years, he met death calmly and
was laid to rest in the cemetery at Titusville.
Scarcely had the Crocker well tanked its initial spurt ere "the fun grew
fast and furious." Rigs multiplied like rabbits in Australia. Train-loads of
lively delegates from every nook and cranny of Oildom crowded the streets,
overran the hotels and taxed the commissary of the village to the utmost.
Town-lots sold at New- York prices and buildings spread into the fields. At
B. C. Mitchell's Bradford House, headquarters of the oil-fraternity, operators
and land-holders met and drillers "ofFtour" solaced their craving for "the
good things of this life " playing billiards and practising at the hotel-bar. Hun-
dreds of big contracts were closed in the second-story room where Lewis
Emery, "Judge" Johnson, Dr. Book and the advance-guard of the invading
hosts assembled. Main street blazed at night with the light of dram-shops and
the gaieties incidental to a full-fledged frontier-town. Noisy bands appealed
to lovers of varieties to patronize barntike-theatres, strains of syren music
floated from beer-gardens, dance-halls of dubious complexion were thronged
and gambling-dens ran unmolested. The free-and-easy air of the community,
too intent chasing oil and cash to bother about morality, captivated the ordi-
nary stranger and gained "Bad Bradford" notoriety as a combination of Pit-
hole and Petroleum Centre, with a dash of Sodom and Pandemonium, con-
densed into a single package. In February of 1879 a city-charter was granted
and James Broder was elected mayor. Radical reforms were not instituted
with undue haste, to jar the sensitive feelings of the incongruous masses gath-
ered from far and near. Their accommodating nature at last adapted itself
to a new state of affairs and accepted gracefully the restrictions imposed for the
general welfare. Checked temporarily by the Bullion spasm in 1876-7, the
influx redoubled as the lower country waned. Fires merely consumed frame-
structures to hasten the advent of costly brick-blocks. Ten churches, schools,
five banks, stores, hotels, three newspapers, street-cars, miles of residences and
fifteen-thousand of the liveliest people on earth attested the permanency of
Bradford's boom. Narrow-gauge railroads circled the hills, traversed spider-
web trestles and brought tribute to the city from the outlying districts. The
area of oil-territory seemed interminable. It reached in every direction, until
from sixteen-thousand mouths seventy-five thousand acres poured their liquid
treasure. The daily production waltzed to one-hundred-thousand barrels!
Iron-tanks were built by the thousand to store the surplus crude. Two, three or
four-thousand-barrel gushers were lacking, but wells that yielded twenty-five to
two-hundred littered the slopes and valleys. The field was a marvel, a phe-
nomenon, a revelation. Bradford passed the mushroom -stage safely and was
not snuffed out when developments receded and the floaters wandered south
216 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
in quest of fresh excitement. To-day it is a thriving railroad and manufactur-
ing centre, the home of ten-thousand intelligent, independent, go-ahead citizens,
proud of its past, pleased with its present and confident of its future.
To trace operations minutely would be an endless task. Crocker sold a
half-interest in his well and drilled on an adjacent farm. Gillespie, Buchanan
& Kelly came from Fagundas in 1874 and sank the two Fagundas wells
twenty and twenty -five barrels a half-mile west of Crocker, in the fall and win-
ter. Butts No. i, a short distance north, actually flowed sixty barrels in Novem-
ber of 1874. Jackson & Walker's No. i, on the Kennedy farm, north edge of
town, on July seventeenth, 1875, flowed twenty barrels at eleven-hundred feet.
The dark, pebbly sand, the best tapped in McKean up to that date, encour-
aged the belief of better strata down the Tuna. On December first, two months
after Crocker's strike, the yield of the Bradford district was two-hundred-and-
ten barrels. The Crocker was doing fifty, the Olmsted twenty-five, the Butts
fifteen, the Jackson & Walker twenty and all others from one to six apiece.
The oil, dark-colored and forty-five gravity, was loaded on Erie cars direct
from the wells, most of which were beside the tracks. The Union Company
finished the first pipe-line and pumped oil to Olean the last week of November.
Prentice, Barbour & Co. were laying a line through the district and 1875 closed
with everything ripe for the millenium these glimmerings foreshadowed.
Lewis Emery, richly dowered with Oil-Creek experience and the get-up-
and-get quality that forges to the front, was an early arrival at Bradford. He
secured the Quintuple tract of five-thousand acres and drilled a test well on the
Tibbets farm, three miles south of town. Its success confirmed his judgment
of the territory and began the wonderful Quintuple development. The Quin-
tuple rained staying wells on the lucky, plucky graduate from Pioneer, quickly
placing him in the millionaire-class. He built blocks and refineries, opened an
immense hardware-store, constructed pipe-lines, established a daily-paper,
served two terms in the Senate and opposed the Standard "tooth and toe-nail."
Thoroughly earnest, he champions a cause with unflinching tenacity. He owns
a big ranche in Dakota, big lumber-tracts and saw-mills in Kentucky, a big
oil-production and a big share in the United-States Pipe-Line. He has traveled
over Europe, inspected the Russian oil-fields and gathered in his private
museum the rarest collection of curiosities and objects of interests in the state.
Senator Emery is a staunch friend, a fighter who " doesn't know when he is
whipped," liberal, progressive, fluent in conversation and firm in his convictions.
" A prince can mak' a belted knight,
A marquis, duke and a' that ;
But an honest man's aboon his might
Guid faith, he maunna fa" that."
Hon. David Kirk sticks faithfully to Emery in his hard-sledding to array
petroleumites against the Standard. He manages the McCalmont Oil-Com-
pany, which operated briskly in the Forest pools, at Bradford and Richburg.
Mr. Kirk is a rattling speaker, positive in his sentiments and frank in express-
ing his views. He extols Pennsylvania petroleum, backs the outside pipe-lines
and is an influential leader of the Producers' Association.
Dr. W. P. Book, who started at Plumer, ran big hotels at Parker and Mil-
lerstown and punched a hole in the Butler field occasionally, leased nine-hun-
dred acres below Bradford in the summer of 1875. He bored two-hundred
wells, sold the whole bundle to Captain J. T. Jones and went to Washington
Territory with eight-hundred-thousand dollars to engage in lumbering and
banking. Captain Jones landed on Oil Creek after the war, in which he was a
A BEE-LINE FOR THE NORTH.
217
brave soldier, and drilled thirteen dry-holes at Rouseville ! Repulses of this
stripe would wear out most men, but the Captain had enlisted for the campaign
and proposed to stand by his guns to the last. His fourteenth attempt a hun-
dred-barreler on the Shaw farm recouped former losses and inaugurated
thirty years of remarkable prosperity. Fortune smiled upon him in the Clarion
field. Pipe-lines, oil-wells, dealings in the exchanges, whatever he touched
turned into gold. Not handicapped by timid partners, he paddled his own
canoe and became the largest individual operator in the northern region.
Acquiring tracts that proved to be the heart of the Sistersville field, he is cred-
ited with rejecting an offer last year of five-million dollars for his West- Vir-
ginia and Pennsylvania properties !
From thirteen wells, good only for post-
holes if they could be dug up and re-
tailed by the foot, to five-millions in
cash was a pretty stretch onward and
upward. He preferred staying in the
harness to the obscurity of a mere cou-
pon-clipper. He lives at Buffalo, con-
trols his business, enjoys his money, re-
members his legions of old friends and
does not put on airs be-
cause of marching very
near the head of the
oleaginous procession.
Theodore Barnsdall has never lagged behind since he entered the arena in
1860. He operated on Oil Creek and has been a factor in every important
district. Marcus Hulings, reasoning that a paying belt intersected it diagonally,
secured the Clark & Babcock tract of six-thousand acres on Foster Brook,
north-east of Bradford. Hundreds of fine wells verified his theory and added a
half-million to his bank-account. Sitting beside me on a train one day in 1878,
Mr. Hulings refused three-hundred-thousand dollars, offered by Marcus Brown-
218
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
son, for his interest in the property. He projected the narrow-gauge railroad
from Bradford to Olean and a bevy of oil-towns Gillmor, Derrick City, Red
Rock and Bell's Camp budded and bloomed along the route. Frederic
Prentice built pipe-lines and tanks, leased a half-township, started thirty wells
in a week on the Melvin farm and organized the Producers' Consolidated Land-
and- Petroleum-Company, big in name, in quality and in capital. The American
Oil-Company's big operations wafted the late W. A. Pullman a million and the
presidency of the Seaboard Bank in New York, filled Joseph Seep's stocking
and saddled a hundred-thousand dollars on James Amm. The Hazlewood Oil-
Company, guided by Bateman Goe's prudent hand, drilled five-hundred wells
and counted its gains in columns of six figures. Robert Leckey, a first-class
man from head to foot, was a royal winner. Frederick Boden true-blue, clear-
grit, sixteen ounces to the pound forsook Corry to extract a stream of wealth
from the Borden lands, six miles east of Tarport. Prompt, square and manly,
he merited the good luck that rewarded him in Pennsylvania and followed him
to Ohio, where for four years he has been operating extensively. Boden's wells
BATEMAN GOE.
FREDERICK BODEN.
ROBERT LECKEY.
boosted the territory east and north. From its junction with the Tuna at Tar-
port Kendall is the post-office to its source off in the hills, Kendall Creek
steamed and smoked. Tarport expanded to the proportions of a borough.
Two narrow-guage roads linked Bradford and Eldred, Sawyer City, Rew City,
Coleville, Rixford and Duke Centre oil-towns in all the term implies keeping
the rails from rusting. Other narrow-guages diverged to Warren, Mt. Jewett
and Smethport. The Erie extended its branch south and the Rochester &
Pittsburg crossed the Kinzua gorge over the highest railway viaduct three-
hundred feet in this nation of tall projects and tall achievements.
Twenty-nine years ago a stout-hearted, strong-limbed, wiry youth, fresh
from the Emerald Isle, asked a man at Petroleum Centre for a job. Given a
pick and shovel, he graded a tank-bottom deftly and swiftly. He dug, pulled
tubing, drove team and earned money doing all sorts of chores. Reared in
poverty, he knew the value of a dollar and saved his pennies. To him Oildom,
with its "oil-princes" George K. Anderson, Jonathan Watson, Dr. M. C.
Egbert, David Yanney, Sam Woods, Joel Sherman and the Phillips Brothers
were in their glory was a golden dream. He learned to "run engine," dress
tools, twist the temper-screw and handle drilling and pumping-wells expertly.
A BEE-LINE FOR THE NORTH. 219
Although neither a prohibitionist nor a prude, he never permitted mountain-
dew, giddy divinities in petticoats or the prevailing follies to get the better of
him in his inordinate desire for riches. Drop by drop for three years his frugal
store increased and he migrated to Parker early in the seventies. Such was
the young man who " struck his gait" in the northern end of Armstrong
county, who was to outshine the men he may have envied on Oil Creek, to
scoop the biggest prize in the petroleum-lottery and weave a halo of glittering
romance around the name of John McKeown.
Working an interest in an oil-well, he hit a paying streak and joined the
pioneers who had sinister designs on Butler county, proverbial for ' ' buckwheat-
batter " and "soap-mines." At Lawrenceburg, a suburb of Parker, he boarded
with a comely widow, the mother of two bouncing kids and owner of a little
cash. He married the landlady and five boys blessed the union of loyal hearts.
His wife's money aided him to develop the Widow Nolan farm, east of the coal-
bank near Millerstown. Regardless of Weller's advice to "beware of vid-
ders," he wedded one and from another obtained the lease of a farm on which
his first well produced one-hundred-and-fifty barrels a day for a year, a fortune
in itself. This was the beginning of McKeown's giant strides. In partnership
with William Morrisey, a stalwart fellow-countryman dead for years he
drilled at Greece City, Modoc and on the Cross-Belt. He held interests with
Parker & Thompson and James Goldsboro, played a lone hand at Martinsburg,
invested in the Karns Pipe-Line and avoided speculation. He agreed with
Thomas Hayes, of Fairview, in 1876, to operate in the Bradford field. Hayes
went ahead to grab a few tracts at Rixford, McKeown remaining to dispose of
his Butler properties. He sold every well and every inch of land at top figures.
No slave ever worked harder or longer hours than he had done to gain a firm
footing. No task was too difficult, no fatigue too severe, no undertaking too
hazardous to be met and overcome. Avarice steeled his heart and hardened
his muscles. Wrapped in a rubber-coat and wearing the slouch-hat everybody
recognized, he would ride his powerful bay-horse knee-deep in mud or snow at
all hours of the night. It was his ambition to be the leading oil-operator of the
world. While putting money into Baltimore blocks, bank-stocks and western
ranches, he always retained enough to gobble a slice of seductive oil -territory.
Plunging into the northern field "horse, foot and dragoons," he bought out
Hayes, who returned to Fairview with a snug nest-egg, and captured a huge
chunk of the Bingham lands. Robert Simpson, agent of the Bingham estate,
fancied the bold, resolute son of Erin and let him pick what he wished from the
fifty-thousand acres under his care. McKeown selected many juicy tracts, on
which he drilled up a large production, sold portions at excessive prices and
cleared at least a million dollars in two or three years ! As Bradford declined
he turned his gaze towards the Washington district, bought a thousand acres of
land and at the height of the excitement had ten-thousand barrels of oil a day !
His object had been attained and John McKeown was the largest oil-producer
in the universe.
Down in Washington, as in Butler and McKean, he attended personally to
his wells, hired the workmen, negotiated for all materials and managed the
smallest details. He removed his family to the county-seat and lived in a plain,
matter-of-fact way. It had been his intention to erect a forty-thousand-dollar
house and reside at Jamestown, N. Y. Ground was purchased and the founda-
tion laid. The local papers spoke of the acquisition he would be to the town,
one suggesting to haul him into politics and municipal improvements, and
220 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
McKeown resented the notoriety by pulling up stakes and locating at Washing-
ton. It often amused me to hear him denounce the papers for calling him
rich. He was more at home in a derrick than in a drawing-room. The din of
the tools boring for petroleum was sweeter to his ears than " Lohengrin " or
"The Blue Danube." Watching oil streaming from his wells delighted his eye
more than a Corot or a Meissonier in a gilt frame. For claw-hammer coats,
tooth-pick shoes and vulgar show he had no earthly use. Democratic in his
habits and speech, he heard the poor man as patiently as the banker or the
schemer with a "soft snap." Clothes counted for nothing in his judgment of
people. He enjoyed the hunt for riches more than the possession. In no sense
a liberal man, sometimes he thawed out to friends who got on the sunny side
of his frosty nature and wrote checks for church or charity. Hard work was
his diversion, his chief happiness. His wells and lands and income grew to
dimensions it would have strained the nerves and brains of a half-dozen men
to supervise. He had mortgaged his robust constitution by constant exposure
and the foreclosure could not always be postponed. Repeated warnings were
unheeded and the strong man broke down just when he most needed the
vitality his lavish drafts exhausted. Eminent physicians hurried from Pitts-
burg and Philadelphia to his relief, but the paper had gone to protest and on
Sunday forenoon, February eighth, 1891, at the age of fifty-three, John Mc-
Keown passed into eternity. Father Hendrich administered the last rites to
the dying man. He sank into a comatose state and his death was painless.
The remains were interred in the Catholic cemetery at Lawrenceville, in pres-
ence of a great multitude that assembled to witness the curtain fall on the most
eventful life in the oil-regions.
One touching little tale about McKeown, which might adorn the pages of a
Sunday-school library, has drifted out of Bradford. Landing on the platform of
the dilapidated Erie-Railroad station, upon his first visit to the metropolis of
mud and oil, John McKeown, wearing his greasiest suit, asked a group of boys to
direct him to the Parker House. " I'll tell you for a quarter," said one. " I'll
show you where it is for ten cents," chimed in another. "Say, I'll do it for five
cents," remarked a third. "Mister," said bright-eyed Jimmie Duffy, "I will
show you the place for nothing." So the stranger went with Jimmie. He took
the lad to a clothing-store, arrayed him sumptuously in the best hand-me-downs
that Bradford could afford and sent the boy away with a five-dollar gold-piece.
Jimmie bought a shoeblack-outfit and began to "shine 'em up " at ten cents a
clip. His good work, cheerfulness and ready wit brought him many a quarter.
Soon he hired a number of assistants, built a "parlor," controlled every stand in
town and at nineteen went west with seven-thousand dollars in his pockets.
Jimmie Duffie's luck set all the Bradford urchins to lying in wait for strangers in
greasy garments lined with gold-pieces.
Estimates of McKeown's wealth ranged from three-millions to ten. A
guess midway would probably be near the mark. When asked by Dun or
Bradstreet how he should be rated, his invariable answer was : " I pay cash for
all I get." O. D. Bleakley, of Franklin, was appointed guardian of the sons
and Hon. J. W. Lee is Mrs. McKeown's legal adviser. The oldest boy has
married, has received his share of the estate and is spending it freely. A
younger son was drowned in a pond at the school to which his mother sent the
bright lad. Once McKeown, desiring to have Dr. Agnew's candid opinion at
the lowest cost, put on his poorest garb and secured a rigid examination upon
his promise to pay the great Philadelphia practitioner ten dollars "as soon as
A BEE-LINE FOR THE NORTH. 221
he could earn the money." He thanked the doctor, returned in a business-
suit, told of the ruse he had adopted and cemented the acquaintance with a
check for one-hundred dollars. In Baltimore he posed as a hayseed at a
forced sale of property the mortgagors calculated to bid in at a fraction of its
value. He deposited a million dollars in a city-bank and appeared at the sale
in the old suit and slouched hat he had packed in his satchel for the occasion.
Stylish bidders at first ignored the seedy fellow whose winks to the auctioneer
elevated the price ten-thousand dollars a wink. One of them hinted to the
stranger that he might be bidding beyond his limit. " I guess not, " replied
John, "I pay cash for what I get." The property was knocked down to him
for about six-hundred-thousand dollars. He requested the attorney to tele-
phone to the bank whether his check would be
honored. "Good for a million ! " was the re-
sponse. Now his triumphs and his spoils have
shrunk to the little measure of the grave !
" Through the weary night on his couch he lay
With the life-tide ebbing fast away.
When the tide goes out from the sea-girt lands
It bears strange freight from the gleaming sands :
The white-winged ships, which long may wait
For the foaming wave and the wind that's late ;
The treasures cast on a rock-bound shore
From stranded ships that shall sail no more,
And hopes that follow the shining seas
Oh ! the ocean wide shall win all these.
But saddest of all that drift to the sea
Is the human soul to eternity,
Floating away from a silent shore,
Like a fated ship, to return no more." JOHN MCKEOWN.
The Bradford Oil-Company J. T. Jones, Wesley Chambers, L. G. Peck
and L. F. Freeman were the principal stockholders owned a good share of
the land on which Greater Bradford was built and ten-thousand acres in the
northern field. The company drilled three-hundred wells in McKean and Alle-
gany, realized fifty-thousand dollars from city-lots and its stock rose to two-
thousand dollars a share. In 1881 Captain Jones bought out his copartners.
The Enterprise Transit-Company, managed by John Brown, achieved reputa-
tion and currency. The McCalmont Oil-Company organized during the Bul-
lion phantom by David Kirk, I. E. Dean, Tack Brothers and F. A. Dilworth
humped itself in the middle and northern fields, sometimes paying three-hun-
dred-thousand dollars a year in dividends. Kirk & Dilworth founded Great
Belt City, in Butler county, cutting up a farm and selling hundreds of lots.
"Farmer" Dean, manager of the company, operated in the lower fields, lived
two years at Richburg, toured the country to preach the gospel according to
the Greenbackers and won laurels on the rostrum. Frank Tack frank and
trustworthy was vice-president of the New- York Oil-Exchange and his brother
is dead. The Emery Oil-Company, the Quintuple, Mitchell & Jones, Whitney
& Wheeler, Melvin and Fuller, George H. Vanvleck, George V. Forman, John
L. McKinney & Co., Isaac Willets and Peter T. Kennedy were shining lights in
the McKean-Allegany firmament. Kennedy owned the saw-milJ when Brad-
ford was a lumber camp and his estate he died at fifty inventoried eleven^
hundred-thousand dollars. Hundreds of small operators left Bradford happy
as men should be with as much money as their wives could spend ; other hun-
dreds dumped their well-earnings into the insatiable maw of speculation.
222
SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
COL. JOHN J. CARTER.
The Bradford field was young when Col. John J. Carter, of Titusville, paid
sixty-thousand dollars for the Whipple farm, on Kendall Creek. Friends
shook their heads over the purchase, up to that time the largest by a private
individual in the district, but the farm produced fifteen-hundred-thousand bar-
rels of oil and demonstrated the wisdom of the deed. Other properties were
developed by this indefatigable worker, until his production was among the
largest in the northern region and he could have sold at a price to number him
with the millionaires. Unanimously chosen presi-
dent of the Bradford, Bordell & Kinzua Railroad-
Company, he completed the line in ninety days from
the issue of the charter and in eighteen months re-
turned the stockholders eighty per cent, in divi-
dends. President Carter's ability in handling the
mm property saved it to its owners, while every other
^i narrow-gauge in the system fell into the clutches
of receivers or sold as junk to meet court-charges
for costly litigation.
All "Old-Timers" remember the "Gentle-
men's Furnishing-House of John J. Carter," the
finest establishment of the kind west of New York.
Young Carter, with a splendid military record, lo-
cated at Titusville in the summer of 1865, immedi-
ately after being mustered out of the service, and en-
gaged in mercantile pursuits ten years. Like other
progressive men, ne took interests in the wild-
cat ventures that made Pithole, Shamburg, Petroleum Centre and Pleasantville
famous. From large holdings in Venango, Clarion and Forest he reaped a
rich harvest. One tract of four-thousand acres in Forest, purchased in 1886
and two-thirds of it yet undrilled, he expects to hand down to his children as
a proof of their father's business-foresight. He scanned the petroleum-horizon
around Pittsburg carefully and retained his investments in the middle and
upper fields. Taylorstown and McDonald, with their rivers of oil, burst forth
with the fury of a flood and disappeared. Sistersville, in West Virginia, had
given the trade a taste of its hidden treasures from a few scattered wells.
Much salt-water, little oil and deep drilling discouraged operators. How to
produce oil at a profit, with such quantities of water to be pumped out, was the
problem. Col. Carter visited the scene, comprehended the situation, devised
his plans and bought huge blocks of the choicest territory before the oil-trade
thought Sistersville worth noticing. This bold stroke added to the value of
every well and lease in West Virginia, inspired the faltering with courage and
rewarded him magnificently. Advancing prices rendered the princely yield of
his scores of wells immensely profitable. Purchases based on fifty-cent oil
the trade had small faith in the outcome he sold on the basis of dollar-fifty oil.
Col. Carter is in the prime of vigorous manhood, ready to explore new fields
and surmount new obstacles. He occupies a beautiful home, has a superb
library, is a thorough scholar and a convincing speaker. His recent argument
before the Ohio Legislature, in opposition to the proposed iniquitous tax on
crude-petroleum, was a masterpiece of effective, pungent, unanswerable logic.
None who admire a brave, manly, generous character will say that his success
is undeserved
Five townships six miles square Independence, Willing, Alma, Bolivar
A BEE-LINE FOR THE NORTH.
223
O. P. TAYLOR.
and Genesee, with Andover, Wellsville, Scio, Wirt and Clarksville north
form the southern border of Allegany county, New York. The first well bored
for oil in the county the Honeyoe was the Wellsville & Alma Oil Company's
duster in Independence township, drilled eighteen-hundred feet in September,
1877. Gas at five-hundred feet caught fire and burned the rig, and signs of oil
were found at one-thousand feet. The second was O. P. Taylor's Pikeville
well, Alma township, finished in November, 1878. Taylor, the father of the
Allegany field, decided to try north of Alma, and in July of 1879 completed
the Triangle No. i, in Scio township, the first in Allegany to produce oil. It
originated the Wellsville excitement and first
diverted public attention from Bradford. Tri-
angle No. 2, drilled early in 1880, pumped twelve
barrels a day. S. S. Longabaugh , of Duke Cen-
tre, sank a dry-hole, the second well in Scio,
three miles north-east of Triangle No. i. Ope-
rations followed rapidly. Richburg No. i, Wirt
township, in which Taylor enlisted three asso-
ciates, responded at a sixty barrel gait in May of
1881 to a huge charge of glycerine. Samuel
Boyle, who had struck the first big well at Sawyer
City, completed the second well at Richburg in
June, manipulated it as a ''mystery " and torpe-
doed it on July thirteenth. It flowed three-hun-
dred barrels of blue-black oil,/orty-two gravity,
from fifty feet of porous sand and slate. Tay-
lor's exertions and perseverance showed indom-
itable will, bravery and pluck. He was a Virginian by birth, a Confederate
soldier and a cigar-manufacturer at Wellsville. It is related that while drilling
his first Triangle well the tools needed repairs and he had not money to send
them to Bradford. His Wellsville acquaintances seemed amazingly "short"
when he attempted a loan. His wife had sold her watch to procure food and
she gave him the cash. The tools were fixed, the well was completed and it
started Taylor on the road to the fortune he and his helpmeet richly earned.
The pioneer died in the fall of 1883. The record of his adventures, trials and
tribulations in opening a new oil-district would fill a volume. He was pre-
pared for the message: -"Child of Earth, thy labors and sorrows are done."
Eighteen lively months sufficed to define the Allegany field, which was
confined to seven-thousand acres. Twenty-nine-hundred wells were bored
and the maximum yield of the district was nineteen-thousand barrels. Rich-
burg and Bolivar, both old villages, quadrupled their size in three months.
Narrow-gauge railroads soon connected the new field with Olean, Friendship
and Bradford. The territory was shallow in comparison with parts of McKean,
where eighteen-hundred feet was not an uncommon depth for wells. Timber
and water were abundant, good roads presented a pleasing contrast to the
unfathomable mud of Clarion and Butler and the country was decidedly attrac-
tive. Efforts to find an outlet to the belt failed in every instance. The climax
had been reached and a gradual decline set in. Allegany was the northern
limit of remunerative developments in the United States, which the next turn
of the wheel once more diverted southward. The McCalmont Oil-Company
and Phillips Brothers were leaders in the Richburg field. The country had
been settled by Seventh-day Baptists, whose "Sunday was on Saturday.'*
224 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
Not to offend these devout people by discriminating in favor of Sunday, oper-
ators "whipped the devil around the stump" by drilling and pumping their
wells seven days a week !
The Chipmunk pool, a dozen miles north of Bradford, was trotted out in
1895. For a season its shallow wells promised a glut of real oil, the daily pro-
duction rising to twenty-six-hundred barrels. The area of creamy territory was
quickly defined. Captain E. H. Barnum, long an enterprising Bradford opera-
tor, drilled a test-well near Arkwright, Chautauqua County, N.Y., in 1897. He
put twenty-five-hundred feet of six-inch and three-hundred feet of eight-inch
casing in the hole, which proved barren of oil or gas and was abandoned when
three-thousand feet deep. The Watsonville pool, south-west of Bradford,
lively drilling brought to the nine-thousand-barrel notch for a time this season.
The town of Ceres, which celebrated its one-hundredth birthday this year,
has had some peculiar experiences. Located on the state-line between New
York and Pennsylvania, the boundary has figured in many curious ways since
the pioneers erected the first log-cabin in 1797. The first squabble related to
the post-office, which was established on the south-side of the line, in Pennsyl-
vania, with a basket to hold the mail. By some hocus-pocus the department
permitted the office to be removed to the north-side, in New York, fifty or more
years ago. Every President from Andrew Jackson to William McKinley has
been importuned to change it back again, but the population is so nearly
divided that the question bids fair, like Tennyson's brook, "to go on forever."
Ceres was strictly in it as a Gretna Green. The little Methodist church, the
only one in the village, is built against the line, the porch extending into New
York. The parsonage is in the same fix. To avoid securing a license, Penn-
sylvania couples had merely to step out of the parsonage to the porch and be
married in New York. Eloping couples have had some lively rides to Ceres.
For many years Justice Peabody was very popular at knot-tying. He was
aroused one'midnight by a man who wanted a warrant for the arrest of a pair
of elopers. The judge was friendly to the young fellow in love. As he was
making out the papers a rap at the door interrupted him. The caller was the
young man himself. The judge stepped outside behind a stump-fence, across
the state-line, married the eloping couple and then returned to the house to
finish making out the warrant. A hotel built by a bright genius close to the
line had an addition for a barroom. The barroom extended over the line and
its sole entrance was from the Pennsylvania side. The bartender, by stepping
a foot either way from the center of the bar, could pass from one state to an-
other. He was arrested for illegal selling many times, but in each instance he
would swear that the whisky he sold was disposed of in the other state. One
day a Pennsylvania prisoner slipped his handcuffs when the sheriff was not
looking, jumped out of the dining-room into New York, made faces at the min-
ion of the law and defied arrest. For fifty years state-pride kept the people apart
on the school-question. They had a small district-school on each side of the
line in preference to a graded school, because the latter would demand a sur-
render of state-pride. Four years ago the differences were patched up and a
graded-school was provided. The engine of the steam saw-mill is in Pennsyl-
vania and the boiler in New York. The logs enter the mill in Pennsylvania and
are sawed in New York, the boards are edged in Pennsylvania and the lumber
is piled up crosswise on the state-line. At the grist-mill the grain entered on
the New- York side, was ground in Pennsylvania and carried back into New
'York by the bolting-machinery. When the oil-boom was on at Bolivar and
A BEE-LINE FOR THE NORTH. 225
Richburg two narrow-gauge railroads passed through Ceres. One station was
in New York and the other in Pennsylvania, with tracks parallel to Bolivar.
The schedules of the passenger-trains were alike and some of the fastest rides
ever taken on a narrow-guage road resulted. Oil-developments did not hit
Ceres hard, wells around the tidy village failing to tap the greasy artery.
Possibly Nature thought the folks had enough fun over the boundary complica-
tions to compensate for the lack of petroleum.
Canada has oil-fields of considerable importance. The largest and oldest
is in Enniskillen township, Lambton county, a dozen miles from Port Sarnia,
at the foot of Lake Huron. Black Creek, a small tributary of the Detroit
river, flows through this township and for many years its waters had been
coated with a greasy liquid the Indians sold as a specific for countless diseases.
The precious commodity was of a brown color, exceedingly odorous, unpleas-
ant to the taste and burned with great intensity. In 1860 several wells were
started, the projectors believing the floating oil indicated valuable deposits
within easy reach of the surface. James Williams, who had previously gar-
nered the stuff in pits, finished the first well that yielded oil in paying quantity.
Others followed in close succession, but months passed without the sensation
of a genuine spouter. Late in the summer of the same year that operations
commenced, John Shaw, a poor laborer, managed to get a desirable lease on
the bank of the creek. He built a cheap rig, provided a spring-pole and
"kicked down" a well, toiling all alone at his weary task until money and
credit and courage were exhausted. Ragged, hungry and barefooted, one
forenoon he was refused boots and provisions by the village-merchant, nor
would the blacksmith sharpen his drills without cash down. Reduced to the
verge of despair, he went back to his derrick with a heavy heart, ate a hard
crust for dinner and decided to leave for the United States next morning if no
signs of oil were discovered that afternoon. He let down the tools and re-
sumed his painful task. Twenty minutes later a rush of gas drove the tools
high in the air, followed the next instant by a column of oil that rose a hundred
feet ! The roar could be heard a mile and the startled populace rushed from
the neighboring hamlet to see the unexpected marvel. Canada boasted its
first flowing-well and the tidings flew like wild-fire. Before dark hundreds of
excited spectators visited the spot. For days the oil gushed unchecked, filling
a natural basin an acre in extent, then emptying into the creek and discoloring
the waters as far down as Lake St. Clair. None knew how to regulate its
output and bring the flow under control. Thus it remained a week, when a
delegate from Pennsylvania showed the owner how to put in a seed-bag and
save the product. The first attempt succeeded and thenceforth the oil was
cared for properly. Opinions differ as to the actual production of this novel
strike, although the best judges placed it at five-thousand barrels a day for
two or three weeks ! The stream flowed incessantly the full size of the hole, a
strong pressure of gas forcing it out with wonderful speed. The well pro-
duced generously four months, when it "stopped for keeps." Persons who
visited the well at its best will recall the surroundings. A pond of oil large
enough for a respectable regatta lay between it and Black Creek, whose greasy
banks for miles bore traces of the lavish inundation of crude. The locality
was at once interesting and high-flavored and a conspicuous feature was Shaw
himself. Radiant in a fresh suit of store-clothes, he moved about with the
complacency incident to a green ruralist who has "struck ile."
One of the persons earliest on the ground after the well began to flow was
226
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
the storekeeper who had refused the proprietor a pair of boots that morning.
With the cringing servility of a petty retailer he hurried to embrace Shaw, coup-
ling this outbreak of affection with the assurance that everything in the shop
was at his service. It is gratifying to note that Shaw had the spirit to rebuke
this puppyism. Bringing his ample foot
into violent contact with the dealer's
most vital part, he accompanied a heavy
kick with an emphatic command to go
to the place Heber Newton and Pente-
cost have ruled out. Shaw was unedu-
cated and fell a ready prey to sharpers
on the watch for easy victims. Cargoes
of oil shipped to England brought small
returns and his sudden wealth slipped
away in short order. Ere long the en-
vied possessor of the big well was obliged
to begin life anew. For a few years he
struggled along as an itinerant photog-
rapher, traveling with a "car" and
earning a precarious substance taking
1 ' tin-types . ' ' Death closed the scene in
1872, the luckless pioneer expiring at
Petrolea in absolute want. Thus sadly
ended another illustration of the adverse
fortune which frequently overtakes men
whose energy and grit confer benefits
upon mankind that surely entitle them
to a better fate. Mr. Williams saved money, served in parliament and died in
the city of Hamilton years ago. He was the intimate friend of Hon. Isaac
Buchanan, the distinguished Canadian statesman, whose sons are well-known
operators at Oil City and Pittsburg.
" The stars shall fade away, the sun himself
Grow dim with age and nature sink in years ;
But thou shall flourish in immortal youth."
As might be imagined, Shaw's venture gave rise to operations of great mag-
nitude. Hosts flocked to the scene in quest of lands and developments began
on an extensive scale. Among others a rig was built and a well drilled without
delay as close to the Shaw as it was possible to place the timbers. The sand
was soon reached by the aid of steam-power and once more the oil poured
forth enormously, the new strike proving little inferior to its neighbor. It was
named the Bradley, in honor of the principal owner, E. C. Bradley, afterwards
a leading operator in Pennsylvania, president of the Empire Gas-Company and
still a resident of Oildom. The yield continued large for a number of months,
then ceased entirely and both wells were abandoned. Of the hundreds in the
vicinity a good percentage paid nicely, but none rivalled the initial spouters.
The influx of restless spirits led to an " oil-town," which for a brief space pre-
sented a picture of activity rarely surpassed. Oil Springs, as the mushroom city
was fittingly termed, flourished amazingly. The excessive waste of oil filled
every ditch and well, rendering the water unfit for use and compelling the citi-
zens to quench their thirst with artificial drinks. The bulk of the oil was con-
veyed to Mandaumin, Wyoming or Port Sarnia, over roads of horrible bad-
JOHN SHAW.
A BEE-LINE FOR THE NORTH.
227
,, giving employment to an army of teamsters. A sort of "mud canal"
was formed, through which the horses dragged small loads on a species of flat-
boats, while the drivers walked along the "tow-path" on either side. The
mud had the consistency of thin batter and was seldom under three feet deep.
To those who have never seen this unique system of navigation the most
graphic description would fail to convey an adequate idea of its peculiar
features. Unlike the Pennsylvania oil-fields, the petroleum-districts of Canada
are low and swampy, a circumstance that added greatly to the difficulty of mov-
ing the greasy staple during the wet season. Ultimately roads were cut through
the soft morasses and railways were constructed, although not before Oil
Springs had seen its best days and begun a rapid descent on the down grade.
Salt-water quickly put a stop to many wells, the production declined rapidly
and the town was depopulated. Operations extended towards the north-west,
where Petrolea, which is yet a flourishing place, was established in 1864.
Both well, twenty-six miles south of Oil Springs, had a short career and light
production. Canadian operators were slower than the Yankees of the period
and the tireless push of the Americans who crowded to the front at the begin-
ning of the developments around Oil Springs was a revelation to the quiet
plodders of Enniskillen and adjacent townships. The leading refineries are at
London, fifty miles east of Wyoming and one of the most attractive cities in
the Dominion.
Petroleum has long been known to exist in considerable quantity in the
Gaspe Peninsula, at the extreme eastern end of Quebec. The Petroleum Oil-
Trust, organized by a bunch of Canadians to operate the district, put down
eight wells in 1893, finding a light green
oil. The Trust continued its borings in
1894, on the left bank of the York River,
south of the anticlinal of Tar Point.
Several of the ten wells yielded moder-
ately, and operations extended to the
portion of Gaspe Basin called Mississippi
Brook. One well in that section, com-
pleted in July of 1897, flowed from a depth
of fifteen-hundred feet. Hundreds of
barrels were lost before the well could be
controlled. Its first pumping produced
forty barrels, and two others in the vicinity
are of a similar stripe. The results thus
far are deemed sufficiently encouraging to
warrant further tests in hope of devel-
oping an extensive field. The oil comes
from a coarse rock of sandy texture,
and in color and gravity resembles the
Pennsylvania article. The formation
around the newest strikes is nearly flat,
while the shallow wells in the section first
prospected were bored at a sharp angle, to keep in touch with the dip of the
rock, just as diamond drills follow the gold-bearing ledges in the Black Hills
of South Dakota. Crossing the continent, oil has been tapped in the gold-
228 SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
diggings of British Columbia, although in amounts too small to be important
commercially.
John Shaw, whose gusher brought the "gum-beds" of Enniskillen into
the petroleum-column, narrowly escaped anticipating Drake three years. Shaw
removed from Massachusetts to Canada in 1838, and was regarded as a visionary
schemer. In 1856 he sought to interest his neighbors in a plan to drill a well
through the rock in search of the reservoir that supplied Bear Creek with a thick
scum of oil. They hooted at the idea and proposed to send Shaw to the asy-
lum. This tabooed the subject and postponed the advent of petroleum until
the end of August, 1859.
Not content to crown Alaska with mountains of gold and valleys of yellow
nuggets, inventors of choice fables have invested the hyperborean region with
an exhaustless store of petroleum. In July of 1897 this paragraph, dated
Seattle, went the rounds of the press :
" What is said to be the greatest discovery ever made is reported from Alaska. Some gold-
prospectors several months ago ran across what seemed to be a lake of oil. It was fed by innu-
merable springs and the surrounding mountains were full of coal. They brought supplies to
Seattle and tests proved it to be of as high grade as any ever taken out of Pennsylvania wells.
A local company was formed and experts sent up. They have returned on the steamer Topeka,
and their report has more than borne out first reports. It is stated there is enough oil and coal
in the discovery to supply the world. It is close to the ocean; in fact, the experts say that the
oil oozes out into the salt-water."
William H. Seward's purchase from Russia, for years ridiculed as good only
for icebergs and white-bears, may be credited with Klondyke placers and vast
bodies of gold-bearing quartz, but a "lake of oil " is too great a stretch of the
long bow. If "a lake of oil" ever existed, the lighter portions would have
evaporated and the residue would be asphaltum. The story "won't hold
water" or oil.
A thief broke into a Bradford store and pilfered the cash-drawer. Some
months later the merchant received an unsigned letter, containing a ten-dollar
bill and this explanatory note : " I stole seventy-eight dollars from your money-
drawer. Remorse gnaws at my conscience. When remorse gnaws again I
will send you some more."
It is not surprising that evil travels faster than good, since it takes only two
seconds to fight a duel and two months to drill an oil-well at Bradford.
"The Producers' Consolidated Land-and-Petroleum-Company, " the for-
midable title over the Bradford office of the big corporation, is apt to suggest
to observant readers the days of old long sign.
Hon. Reuben Carroll, a pioneer-operator, was born in Mercer county in
1823, went to Ohio to complete his education, settled in the Buckeye State, and
was a member of the Legislature when developments began on Oil Creek.
Solicited by friends to join them in an investment that proved fortunate, he re-
moved to Titusville and cast his lot with the producers. He operated exten-
sively in the northern fields, residing at Richburg during the Allegheny excite-
ment. He took an active interest in public affairs, and contributed stirring
articles on politics, finance and good government to leading journals. He op-
posed Wall-street domination and vigorously upheld the rights of the masses.
Upon the decline of Richburg he located at Lily Dale, New York. As a rep-
resentative producer he was asked to become a member of the South Improve-
ment-Company in 1872. The offer aroused his inflexible sense of justice and
was indignantly spurned. He knew the sturdy quality and large-heartedness of
the Oil-Creek operators and did not propose to assist in their destruction. At
A BEE-LINE FOR THE NORTH.
229
REUBEN CARROLL.
seventy-four, Mr. Carroll is vigorous and well-preserved, ready to combat error
and champion truth with tongue and pen. An intelligent student of the past
and of current events, a close observer of the signs of the times and a keen
reasoner, Reuben Carroll is a fine example of the
men who are mainly responsible for the birth jt?**
and growth of the petroleum-development. / \
There is much uncertainty as to the young-
est soldier in the civil-war, the oldest Mason,
the man who first nominated McKinley for
President, and who struck Billie Patterson, but
none as to the youngest dealer in oil-well sup-
plies in the oil-region. This distinction belongs
to Ralph W. Carroll, a native of Youngstown,
Ohio, and son of Hon. Reuben Carroll. Born
in 1860, at eighteen he was at the head of a
large business at Rock City, in the Four-Mile
District, five miles south-west of Olean. Three
brothers were associated with him. The firm
was the first to open a supply-store at Richburg,
with a branch at Allentown, four miles east, and
an establishment later at Cherry Grove. In 1883 Ralph W. succeeded the firm,
his brothers retiring, and located at Bradford. In 1886 he opened offices and
warehouses at Pittsburg and in 1894 removed to New York to engage in placing
special investments. The young merchant was secretary of the Producers' Pro-
tective Association, organized at Richburg in 1891, and a member of the execu-
tive committee that conducted the fight against the Roberts Torpedo-Company.
Hon. David Kirk, Asher W. Milner, J. E. Dusenbury and "Farmer" Dean
were his four associates on this important committee. Roscoe Conkling, for the
Roberts side, and General Butler, for the Producers' Association, measured
swords in this legal warfare. Mr. Carroll has a
warm welcome for his oil-region friends, a class
of men the like of whom for geniality, sociability,
liberality and enterprise the world can never
duplicate.
The Beardsleys, Fishers, Dollophs and Fos-
ters were the first inhabitants in the wilds of
Northern McKean. Henry Bradford Dolloph,
whose house above Sawyer City was shattered
by a glycerine-explosion, was the first white
child who saw daylight and made infantile music
in the Tuna Valley. One of the first two houses
where Bradford stands was occupied by the
Hart family, parents and twelve children. When
the De Golias settled up the East Branch a road
had to be cut through the forest from Alton.
Hon. Lewis Emery's No. i, on the Tibbets
farm, the first good well up the Branch, produced oil that paid two or three
times the cost of the entire property.
The United-States Pipe-Line has overcome legal obstructions, laid its tubes
under railroads that objected to its passage to the sea and will soon pump oil
direct to refineries on the Jersey coast. Senator Emery, the sponsor of the
16
RALPH W. CARROLL.
230 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OiL.
line, is not the man to be bluffed by any railroad-popinjay who wants him to
get off the earth. The National-Transit Line has ample facilities to transport
all the oil in Pennsylvania to the seaboard, but Emery is a true descendant of
the proud Highlander who wouldn't sail in Noah's ark because " ilka McLean
has a boat o' his ain." He was born in New- York State, reared in Michigan,
whither the family removed in his boyhood, and learned to be a miller. Ar-
riving at Pioneer early in the sixties, he cut his eye-teeth as an oil-operator on
Oil Creek and had much to do with bringing the great Bradford district to the
front. He served one term in the Legislature and two in the Senate, gaining a
high reputation by his fearless opposition to jobbery and corruption.
Michael Garth, a keen-witted son of the Emerald Isle, has the easiest snap
in the northern region. Scraping together the funds to put down a well on his
rocky patch of ground near Duke Centre, he rigged a water-wheel to pump the
ten barrels of crude the strike yielded daily. Another well of similar stripe
was drilled and the faithful creek drives the wooden-wheel night and day, with-
out one cent of expense or one particle of attention on the part of the owner.
Garth can go fishing three days at a lick, to find the wells producing upon his
return just as when he left. Such a picnic almost compels a man to be lazy.
The Devonian Oil Company, of which Charles E. Collins is the clear-
brained president and guiding star, has operated on the wholesale plan in the
northern region and in West Virginia. In October of 1897 the Devonian, the
Watson and the Emery companies sold a part of their holdings north and
south to the West Penn, a producing wing of the Standard, for fourteen-hundred-
thousand dollars in spot cash. The largest cash sale of wells and territory on
record, this transaction was negotiated by John L. and J. C. McKinney acting
in behalf of the buyer, and Charles E. Collins and Lewis Emery representing
the sellers.
" Hell in harness ! " Davy Crockett is credited with exclaiming the first
time he saw a railroad train tearing along one dark night. Could he have seen
an oil-train on the Oil-Creek Railroad, blazing from end to end and tearing
down from Brocton at sixty miles an hour, the conception would have been yet
more realistic. Engineer Brown held the throttle, which he pulled wide pen
upon discovering a car of crude on fire. Mile after mile he sped on, thick
smoke and sheets of flame each moment growing denser and fiercer. At last
he reached a long siding, slackened the speed for the fireman to open the
switch and ran the doomed train off the main track. He detached the engine
and two cars, while the rest of the train fell a prey to the fiery demon. A
similar accident at Bradford, caused by a tank at the Anchor Oil-Company's
wells overflowing upon the tracks of the Bradford & Bordell narrow-gauge,
burned two or three persons fatally. The oil caught fire as the locomotive
passed the spot and enveloped the passenger-coach in flames so quickly that
escape was cut off.
Bradford, Tarport, Limestone, Sawyer, Gillmor, Derrick, Red Rock, State
Line, Four-Mile, Duke Centre, Rexford, Bordell, Rew City, Coleville, Custer
and De Golia, with their thousands of wells, their hosts of live people, their
boundless activity, their crowded railways, their endless procession of teams
and their unlimited energy, were for the nonce the brightest galaxy of oil-towns
that ever flourished .in the busy realm of petroleum. Some have vanished,
others are mere skeletons and Bradford alone retains a fair semblance of its
pristine greatness.
The bee-line for the north was fairly and squarely "on the belt."
THE SEX MEN ADORE.
A little girl at Titusville, when she prayed to have herself and all of her
relations cared for during the night, added : "And, dear God, do try and take
good care of yourself, for if anything should happen t9 you we should all go to
pieces. Amen."
A young lady at Sawyer City accepted a challenge to climb a derrick on
the Hallenback farm, stand on top and wave her handkerchief. She was to
receive a silk-dress and a ten-dollar greenback. The feat was performed in
good shape. It is probably the only instance on record where a woman had
the courage to climb an eighty-foot derrick, stand on top and wave her hand-
kerchief to those below. It was done and the enterprising girl gathered in the
wager.
Mrs. Sands, formerly a resident of Oil City, built the Sands Block and owned
wells on Sage Run. McGrew Brothers, of Pittsburg, struck a spouter in 1869
that boomed Sage Run a few months. A lady at Pleasantville, who had coined
money by shrewd speculations in oil-territory, purchased two-hundred acres
near the McGrew strike, while the well was drilling and nobody thought it
worth noticing. The lady was Mrs. Sands, who enacted the role of " a poor
lone widow," anxious to secure a patch of ground to raise cabbage and garden-
truck, to get the property. She worked so skillfully upon the sensibilities of
the Philadelphians owning the land that they sold it for a trifle "to help a needy
woman !" Her first well, finished the night before the " thirty-day shut down,"
flowed five-hundred barrels each twenty-four hours. The "poor lone widow "
valued the tract at a half-million dollars and at one time was rated at six-hun-
dred-thousand, all "earned by her own self." Yet weak-minded men and
strong-minded women talk of the suppressed sex !
A Franklin lady asked her husband one morning to buy five-thousand bar-
rels of oil on her account, saying she had an impression the price would ad-
vance very soon. To please her he promised to comply. At dinner she in-
quired about it and was told the order had been filled by an Oil-City broker.
In the afternoon the price advanced rapidly. Next morning the lady asked
hubby to have the lot sold and bring her the profits. The miserable husband
was in for it. He dared not confess his deception and the only alternative was
to pay the difference and keep mum. His sickly smile, as he drew fifteen-hun-
dred dollars out of the bank to hand his spouse, would have cracked a mirror
an inch thick. Solomon got a good deal of experience from his wives and that
Franklin husband began to think "a woman might know something about
business after all."
Mrs. David Hanna, of Oil City, is not one of the women whose idea of a
good time is to go to a funeral and cry. She tried a bit of speculation in certifi-
cates and the market went against her. She tried again and again, but the
losses exceeded the profits by a large majority. The phenomenal spurt in April
of 1895 was her opportunity. She held down a seat in the Oil-Exchange gallery
three days, sold at almost the top notch and cleared twelve-thousand dollars.
People applauded and declared the plucky little woman "had a great head."
XII.
DOWN THE ZIG-ZAGGED STREAM.
WHERE THE ALLEGHENY FLOWS RENO CONTRIBUTES A GENEROUS MITE
SCRUBGRASS HAS A SHORT INNING BULLION LOOMS UP WITH DUSTERS AND
GUSHERS A PEEP AROUND EMLENTON FOXBURG FALLS INTO LINE
THROUGH THE CLARION DISTRICT ST. PETERSBURG, ANTWERP, TURKEY
CITY AND DOGTOWN EDENBURC HAS A HOT TIME PARKER ON DECK.
He left the barren-beaten thoroughfare." Tennyson.
Who, grown familiar with the sky, will grope * * * among groundlings?" Browning.
What lavish wealth men give for trifles light and small!" W. S Hawkins.
How soon our new-born light attains to full-aged noon." Francis Quarles.
" Liberal as noontide speeds the ambient ray
And fills each crevice in the world with day." Lytton.
We must take the current when it serves or lose our ventures." Shakespeare.
Let us battle for elbow-room." James Parish Steele.
Peter Oleum came down like a wolf on the fold." Byron Parodied.
Plunged into darkness or plunged into light." Hester M. Poole.
Lord love us, how we apples swim ! " Mallett.
The best-laid schemes o' mice and men gang aft a-gley." Robert Burns.
Fortune turns everything to the advantage of her favorites." Rochefoucauld.
Good, the more communicated, more abundant grows." Milton.
A gorgeous sunset is coloring the whole sky." Julius Stinde.
OUTH and west of Oil Creek for many
miles the petroleum-star shed its ef-
fulgent luster. Down the Allegheny
adventurous operators groped their
way patiently, until Clarion, Arm-
strong, Butler, Washington and West
Virginia unlocked their splendid store-
houses at the bidding of the drill.
Aladdin's wondrous lamp, Stalacta's
wand or Ali Babi's magic sesame was
not so grand a talisman as the tools
which from the bowels of the earth
brought forth illimitable spoil. No
need of fables to varnish the tales of
struggles and triumphs, of disappoint-
ments and successes, of weary toil and
rich reward that have marked the oil-
development from the Drake well to
the latest strike in Tyler county. Men who go miles in advance of develop-
ments to seek new oil-fields run big chances of failure. They understand the
risk and appreciate the cold fact that heavy loss may be entailed. But "the
game is worth the powder " in their estimation and impossibility is not the sort
of ability they swear by. " Our doubts are traitors and make us lose the good
we oft might win " is a maxim oil-operators have weighed carefully. The man
233
AND
RESIDENCE,
A.W.R.R.
234
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
who has faith to attempt something is a man of power, whether he hails from
Hong Kong or Boston, Johannesburg or Oil City. The man who will not
improve his opportunity, whether seeking salvation or petroleum, is a sure
loser. His stamina is as fragile as a fifty-cent shirt and will wear out quicker
than religion that is used for a cloak only. Muttering long prayers without
working to answer them is not the way to angle for souls, or fish, or oil-wells.
It demands nerve and vim and enterprise to stick thousands of dollars in a hole
ten, twenty, fifty or "a hundred miles from anywhere," in hope of opening a
fresh vein of petroleum. Luckily men possessing these qualities have not been
lacking since the first well on Oil Creek sent forth the feeble squirt that has
grown to a mighty river. Hence prolific territory, far from being scarce, has
sometimes been too plentiful for the financial health of the average producer,
who found it hard to cipher out a profit selling dollar-crude at forty cents. As
old fields exhausted new ones were explored in every direction, those south of
the original strike presenting a very respectable figure in the oil-panorama. If
"eternal vigilance is the price of liberty," eternal hustling is the price of oil-
operations. Maria Seidenkovitch, a
fervid Russian anarchist, who would
rather hit the Czar with a bomb than
hit a thousand-barrel well, has written:
" There is no standing still! Even as I pause
The steep path shifts and I slip back apace ;
Movement was safety ; by the journey's laws
No help is given, no safe abiding-place ;
No idling in the pathway, hard and slow
I must go forward or must backward go !"
Down the Allegheny three miles,
on a gentle slope facing bold hills across
the river, is the remnant of Reno, once
a busy, attractive town. It was named
from Gen. Jesse L. Reno, who rose to
higher rank than any other of the he-
roes Venango "contributed to the
death-roll of patriotism." He spent
his boyhood at Franklin, was gradu-
ated from West Point in the class with George B. McClellan and "Stonewall "
Jackson, served in the Mexican war, was promoted to Major-General and fell
at the battle of South Mountain in 1862. The Reno Oil-Company, organized
in 1865 as the Reno-Oil-and-Land Company, owns the village-site and twelve-
hundred acres of adjacent farms. The company and the town owed their
creation to the master-mind of Hon. C. V. Culver, to whose rare faculty for
developing grand enterprises the oil-regions offered an inviting field. Visiting
Venango county early in the sixties, a canvass of the district convinced him
that the oil-industry, then an infant beginning to creep, must attain giant pro-
portions. To meet the need of increased facilities for business, he conceived
the idea of a system of banks at convenient points and opened the first at
Franklin in 1861. Others were established at Oil City, Titusville and suitable
trade-centres until the combination embraced twenty banks and banking-
houses, headed by the great office of Culver, Penn & Co. in New York. All
enjoyed large patronage and were converted into corporate banks. The spec-
ulative mania, unequaled in the history of the world, that swept over the oil-
regions in 1864-5, deluged the banks with applications for temporary loans to
GEN. JESSE L. RENO.
DOWN 7 HE ZIG-ZAGGED STREAM. 235
be used in purchasing lands and oil-interests. Philadelphia alone had nine-
hundred stock-companies. New York was a close second and over seven-hun-
dred-million dollars were capitalized on paper for petroleum-speculations !
The production of oil was a new and unprecedented business, subject to no
known laws and constantly overturning theories that set limits to its expansion.
There was no telling where flowing-wells, spouting thousands of dollars daily
without expense to the owners, might be encountered. Stories of sudden for-
tunes, by the discovery of oil on lands otherwise valueless, pressed the button
and the glut of paper-currency did the rest.
Mr. Culver directed the management and employment of fifteen-million
dollars in the spring of 1865 ! People literally begged him to handle their
money, elected him to Congress and insisted that he invest their cash and
bonds. The Reno Oil-Company included men of the highest personal and
commercial standing. Preliminary tests satisfied the officers of the company
that the block of land at Reno was valuable territory. They decided to ope-
rate it, to improve the town and build a railroad to Pithole, in order to com-
mand the trade of Oil Creek, Cherry Run and "the Magic City." Oil City
opposed the railroad strenuously, refusing a right-of-way and compelling the
choice of a circuitous route, with difficult grades to climb and ugly ravines to
span. At length a consolidation of competing interests was arranged, to be
formally ratified on March twenty-ninth, 1866. Meanwhile rumors affecting the
credit of the Culver banks were circulated. Disastrous floods, the close of the
war and the amazing collapse of Pithole had checked speculation and impaired
confidence in oil-values. Responsible parties wished to stock the Reno Com-
pany at five-million dollars and Mr. Culver was in Washington completing the
railroad-negotiations which, in one week, would give him control of nearly a
million. A run on his banks was started, the strain could not be borne and on
March twenty-seventh, 1866, the failure of Culver, Penn & Co. was announced.
The assets at cost largely exceeded the liabilities of four-million dollars, but
the natural result of the suspension was to discredit everything with which the
firm had been identified. The railroad-consolidation, confessedly advanta-
geous to all concerned, was not confirmed and Reno stock was withheld from
the market. While the creditors generally co-operated to protect the assets and
adjust matters fairly, a few defeated measures looking to a safe deliverance.
These short-sighted individuals sacrificed properties, instituted harassing prose-
cutions and precipitated a crisis that involved tremendous losses. Many a man
standing on his brother's neck clarms to be looking up far into the sky watch-
ing for the Lord to come !
The fabric reared with infinite pains toppled, pulling down others in its
fall. The Reno, Oil-Creek & Pithole Railroad, within a mile of completion,
crumbled into ruin. The architect of the splendid plans that ten days of grace
would have carried to fruition displayed his manly fiber in the dark days of
adversity and he has been amply vindicated. Instead of yielding to despair
and " letting things take their course," he strove to realize for the creditors
every dollar that could be saved from the wreck. Animated by a lofty motive,
for thirty years Mr. Culver has labored tirelessly to discharge the debts of the
partnership. No spirit could be braver, no life more unselfish, no line of action
more steadfastly devoted to a worthy object. He had bought property and
sought to enhance its value, but he had never gambled in stocks, never dealt
in shares on the mere hazard of a rise or gone outside the business except to
help customers whose necessities appealed to his sympathy with which he was
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
intimately connected. Driven to the wall by stress of circumstances and gen-
eral distrust, he has actually paid off all the small claims and multitudes of
large ones against his banks. How many men, with no legal obligation to
enforce their payment, would toil for a generation to meet such demands ?
Thistles do not bear figs and banana-vendors are not the only persons who
should be judged by their fruits. It is a good thing to achieve success and bet-
ter still to deserve it. Gauged by the standard of high resolve, earnest purpose
and persistent endeavor by what he has tried to do and not by what may have
been said of him Charles Vernon Culver can afford to accept the verdict of
his peers and of the Omniscient Judge, who "discerns the thoughts and
intents of the heart."
" I will go on then, though the limbs may tire,
And though the path be doubtful and unseen ;
Better with the last effort to expire
Than lose the toil and struggle that have been,
And have the morning strength, the upward strain,
The distance conquered in the end made vain."
Reorganized in the interest of Culver, Penn & Co.'s creditors, the Reno
Company developed its property methodically. No. 18 well, finished in May of
1870, pumped two-hundred barrels and caused a flutter of excitement. Fifty
others, drilled in 1870-1, were so satisfactory that the stockholders might have
shouted "Keno!" The company declined to lease and very few dry-holes
were put down on the tract. Gas supplied fuel and the sand, coarse and
pebbly, produced oil of superior grav-
ity at five to six-hundred feet. Reno
grew, a spacious hotel was built, stores
prospered, two railroads had stations
and derricks dotted the banks of the
Allegheny. The company's business
was conducted admirably, it reaped
liberal profits and operated in Forest
county. Its affairs are in excellent
shape and it has a neat production to-
day. Mr. Culver and Hon. Galusha
A. Grow have been its presidents and
Hon. J. H. Osmer is now the chief
officer. Mr. Osmer is a leader of the
Venango bar and has lived at Frank-
lin thirty-two years. His thorough
knowledge of law, sturdy independ-
ence, scorn of pettifogging and skill
as a pleader gained him an immense
FAMES H. OSMER. . TT , , ...
practice. He has been retained in
nearly all the most important cases before the court for twenty-five years and
appears frequently in the State and the United-States Supreme Courts. He
is a logical reasoner and brilliant orator, convincing juries and audiences by his
incisive arguments. He served in Congress with distinguished credit. His
two sons have adopted the legal profession and are associated with their father.
A man of positive individuality and sterling character, a friend in cloud and
sunshine, a deep thinker and entertaining talker is James H. Osmer.
Cranberry township, a regular petroleum-huckleberry, duplicated the Reno
pool at Milton, with a vigorous offshoot at Bredinsburg and nibbles lying
DOWN THE ZIG-ZAGGED STREAM. 237
around loose. Below Franklin the second-sand sandwich and Bully-Hill suc-
cesses were special features. A mile up East Sandy Creek it separates Cran-
berry and Rockland was Gas City, on a toploftical hill twelve miles south of
Oil City. A well sunk in 1864 had heaps of gas, which caught fire and burned
seven years. E. E. Wightman and Patrick Canning drilled five good wells in
1871 and Gas City came into being. Vendergrift & Forman constructed a pipe-
line and telegraph to Oil City. Gas fired the boilers, lighted the streets, heated
the dwellings and great quantities wasted. The pressure could be run up to
three-hundred pounds and utilized to run engines in place of steam, were it not
for the fine grit with the gas, which wore out the cylinders. Wells that supplied
fuel to pump themselves seemed very similar to mills that furnished their own
motive-power and grist for the hoppers. A cow that gave milk and provided
food for herself by the process could not be slicker. Gas City vaporized a
year or two and flickered out. The last jet has been extinguished and not a
glimmer of gas or symptom of wells has been visible for many years.
Fifteen of the first sixteen wells at Foster gladdened the owners by yield-
ing bountifully. To drill, to tube, to pump, to get done-up with a dry-hole,
"aye, there's the rub " that tests a fellow's mettle and changes blithe hope to
bleak despair. Foster wells were not of that complexion. They lined the
steep cliff that resembles an Alpine farm tilted on end to drain off, the derricks
standing like sentries on the watch that nobody walked away with the romantic
landscape. Lovers of the sterner moods of nature would revel in the rugged
scenery, which discounts the overpraised Hudson and must have fostered sub-
lime emotions in the impassive redmen. Indian-God Rock, inscribed with-
untranslatable hieroglyphics, presumably tells what "Lo" thought of the sur-
roundings. Six miles south of the huge rock, which somebody proposed to
boat to Franklin and set in the park as an interesting memento of the aborigi-
nes, was "the burning well." For years the gas blazed, illuminating the hills
and keeping a plot of grass constantly fresh and green. The flood in 1865
overflowed the hole, but the gas burned just as though water were its native
element. It was the fad for sleighing parties to visit the well, dance on the
sward when snow lay a yard deep ten rods away and hold outdoor picnics in
January and February. This practically realized the fancy of the boy who
wished winter would come in summer, that he might coast on the Fourth of
July in shirt-sleeves and linen-pants. Here and there in the interior of Rock-
land township morsels of oil have been unearthed and small wells are pump-
ing to-day.
C. D. Angell leased blocks of land from Foster to Scrubgrass in 1870-71
and jabbed them with holes that confirmed his " belt theory." His first well
a hundred-barreler on Belle Island, a few rods below the station, opened the
Scrubgrass field. On the Rockland side of the river the McMillan and 99 wells
headed a list of remunerative producers. Back a quarter-mile the territory
was tricky, wells that showed for big strikes sometimes proving of little ac-
count. A town toddled into existence. Gregory the genial host joined the
heavenly host long ago had a hotel at which trains stopped for meals. James
Kennerdell ran a general store and the post-office. The town was busy and
had nothing scrubby except the name. The wells retired from business, the
depot burned down, the people vanished and Kennerdell Station was estab-
lished a half-mile north. Wilson Cross continued his store at the old stand
until his death in March, 1896. Within a year paying wells have been drilled
near the station and two miles southward. On the opposite bank Major W. T.
238 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
Baum, of Franklin, has a half-dozen along the base of the hill that net him a
princely return. A couple of miles north-west, in Victory township, Conway
Brothers, of Philadelphia, recently drilled a well forty-two hundred feet. The
last sixty feet were sand with a flavor of oil, the deepest sand and petroleum
recorded up to the present time. Careful records of the strata and tempera-
ture were taken. Once a thermometer slipped from Mr. Conway's hand and
tumbled to the bottom of the well, the greatest drop of the mercury in any age
or clime.
Sixty farmers combined in the fall of 1859 to drill the first well in Scrubgrass
township, on the Rhodabarger tract. They rushed it like sixty six-hundred
feet, declined to pay more assessments, kicked over the dashboard and spilled
the whole combination. The first productive well was Aaron Kepler's, drilled
on the Russell farm in 1863, and John Crawford's farm had the largest of the
early ventures. On the Witherup farm, at the mouth of Scrubgrass Creek,
paying wells were drilled in 1867. Considerable skirmishing was done at inter-
vals without startling results. The first drilling in Clinton township was on.
the Kennerdell property, two miles west of the Allegheny, the Big-Bend Oil-
Company sinking a dry-hole in 1864-5. Jonathan Watson bored two in 1871,
finding traces of oil in a thin layer of sand. The Kennerdell block of nine-
hundred acres figured as the scene of milling operations from the beginning of
the century. David Phipps the Phipps families are still among the most
prominent in Venango county built a grist-mill on the property in 1812, a
saw-mill and a woolen-factory, operated an iron-furnace a mile up the creek
"and founded a natty village. Fire destroyed his factory and Richard Ken-
nerdel bought the place in 1853. He built a woolen-mill that attained national
celebrity, farmed extensively, conducted a large store and for thirty years was
a leading business-man. A handsome fortune, derived from manufacturing
and oil-wells on his lands, and the respect of all classes rewarded the enter-
prise, sagacity and hospitality of this progressive citizen. The factory he
reared has been dismantled, the pretty little settlement amid the romantic
hills of Clinton is deserted and the man to whom both owed their devel-
opment rests from his labors. Mr. Kennerdell possessed boundless energy,
decision and the masterly qualities that surmount obstacles, build up a com-
munity and round out a manly character. Cornen Brothers have a production
on the Kennerdell tract, which they purchased in 1892. During the Bullion
furore a bridge was built at Scrubgrass and a railroad to Kennerdell was con-
structed. Ice carried off the bridge and the faithful old ferry holds the fort
as in the days of John A. Canan and George McCullough.
Phillips Brothers, who had operated largely on Oil Creek and in Butler
county, leased thousands of acres in Clinton and drilled a number of dry-holes.
Believing a rich pool existed in that latitude, they were not deterred by re-
verses that would have stampeded operators of less experience. On August
ninth, 1876, John Taylor and Robert Cundle finished a two-hundred-barrel
spouter on the George W. Gealy farm, two miles north of Kennerdell. They
sold to Phillips Brothers, who were drilling on adjacent farms. The new strike
opened the Bullion field, toward which the current turned forthwith. H. L.
Taylor and John Satterfield, the biggest operators in Butler, visited the Gealy
well and offered a half-million dollars for the Phillips interests in Clinton. A
hundred oilmen stood watching the flow that August morning. The parties
consulted briefly and Isaac Phillips invited me to walk with him a few rods.
He said: "Taylor & Satterfield wish to take our property at five-hundred-
DOWN THE ZIG-ZAGGED STREAM.
239
J. MYERS.
thousand dollars. This is a good deal of money, but we have declined it. We
think there will be a million in this field for us if we develop it ourselves."
They carried out this programme and the estimate was approximated closely.
The Sutton, Simcox, Taylor, Henderson, Davis, Gealy, Newton and Ber-
ringer farms were operated rapidly. Tack Brothers paid ten-thousand dollars
to Taylor for thirty acres and Porter Phipps leased
fifteen acres, which he sold to Emerson & Brown-
son, whose first well started at seven-hundred bar-
rels. Phillips Brothers' No. 3 well, on the Gealy
farm, was a four-hundred-barreler. In January,
1877, Frank Nesbit's No. 2, Henderson farm, flowed
five-hundred barrels, and in February the Galloway
began at two-hundred. The McCalmont Oil-Com-
pany's Big Medicine, on the Newton Farm, tipped
the beam at one-thousand barrels on June seventh.
Mitchell & Lee's Big Injun flowed three-thousand
barrels on June eighteenth, the biggest yield in the
district. Ten yards away a galaxy of Franklinites
drilled the driest -kind of a dry-hole. In August
the McCalmont No. 31 and the Phillips No. 7
gauged a plump thousand apiece. These were the
largest wells and they exhausted speedily. The
oil from the Gealy No. i was hauled to Scrubgrass until connections could be
laid to the United Pipe-Lines. The Bullion field, in which a few skeleton-
wells produce a few barrels daily, extended seven miles in length and three-
eighths of a mile in width. Like the business-end of a healthy wasp, "it was
little, but oh, my ! " It swerved the tide from Bradford and ruled the petro-
leum-roost eighteen months. Summit City on the Simcox farm, Berringer
City on the Berringer farm, and Dean City on the McCalmont farm flourished
during the excitement. The first house at Summit was built on December
eighth, 1876. In June of 1877 the town boasted
two-hundred buildings and fifteen-hundred pop-
ulation. Abram Myers, the last resident, left in
April of 1889. All three towns have "faded
into nothingness" and of the five-hundred wells
producing at the summit of Bullion's short-lived
prosperity not a dozen survive. Westward a
new strip was opened, the wells on several farms
yielding their owners a pleasant income. J. J.
Myers, whose home is now at Hartstown, oper-
ated successfully in this district. George Rum-
sey, an enterprising citizen, is the lucky owner
of a number of slick wells. The pretty town of
Clintonville has been largely benefited by oil-
operations in the vicinity. It is surrounded by
a fine agricultural country and possesses many desirable features as a place of
residence. Bullion had its turn and others were to follow in short meter.
" 'Tis not too late to seek a newer world,
Tho' much is taken, much abides."
Major St. George the kindly old man sleeps in the Franklin cemetery
had a bunch of wells and lived in a small house close to the Allegheny- Valley
240
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
track, near the siding in Rockland township that bears his name. At Rock-
land Station a stone chimney, a landmark for many years, marked the early
abode of Hon. Elisha W. Davis, who operated at Franklin, was speaker of the
House of Representatives and the
State-Senate five terms and spent the
closing years of his active life in Phila-
delphia. Emlenton, the lively town at
the south-eastern corner of Venango
county, was a thriving place prior to
the oil-development. The wells in
the vicinity were generally medium,
Ritchey Run having some of the best.
This romantic stream, south of the
town, borders Clarion county for a
mile or two from its mouth. John
Kerr, a squatter, cleared a portion of
the forest and was drowned in the
river, slipping off a flat rock two miles
below his bit of land. The site of
Emlenton was surveyed and the war-
rant from the state given in 1796 to
Samuel B. Fox, great-grandfather of
VIEW ON RITCHEY RUN. the late William Logan Fox and J. M.
Fox, of Foxburg. Joseph M., son of Samuel B. Fox, settled on the land in 1827.
Andrew McCaslin owned the tract above, from about where the Valley Hotel
and the public-school now stand. He was elected sheriff in 1832 and built an
iron-furnace. As a compliment to Mrs. Fox Miss Hanna Emlen he named
the hamlet Emlenton. Doctor James
Growe built the third house in the settle-
ment. The covered wooden-bridge,
usually supposed to have been brought
over in the Mayflower, withstood floods
and ice-gorges until April of 1883. John
Keating, who had the second store,
built a furnace near St. Petersburg and
held a thousand acres of land. Oil-
producers were well represented in the
growing town, which has been the home
of Marcus Hulings, L. E. Mallory, D.
D. Moriarty, M. C. Treat and R. W.
Porterfield. James Bennett, a leader
in business, built the brick opera-house
and the flour-mills and headed the com-
pany that built the Emlenton & Ship-
penville Railroad, which ran to Eden-
burg at the height of the Clarion de-
velopment. Emlenton is supplied with
natural-gas and noted for good schools,
good hotels and get-up-and-get citizens and is wide-awake in every respect.
Dr. A. W. Crawford, of Emlenton, who served in the Legislature, was
appointed consul to Antwerp by President Lincoln in 1861. At the time he
DR. A. W. CRAWFORD.
DOWN THE ZIG-ZAGGED STREAM. 241
reached Antwerp a cheap illuminant was unknown on the continent. Gas was
used in the cities, but the people of Antwerp depended mainly upon rape-seed
oil. Only wealthy people could afford it and the poorer folks went to bed in the
dark. From Antwerp to Brussels the country was shrouded in gloom at night.
Not a light could be seen outside the towns, in the most populous section on
earth. A few gallons of American refined had appeared in Antwerp previous
to Dr. Crawford's arrival. It was regarded as an object of curiosity. A lead-
ing firm inquired about this new American product and Dr. Crawford was the
man who could give the information. He was from the very part of the coun-
try where the new illuminant was produced. The upshot of the matter was
that Dr. Crawford put the firm in communication with American shippers,
which led to an order of forty barrels by Aug. Schmitz & Son, Antwerp dealers.
The article had tremendous prejudice to overcome, but the exporters suc-
ceeded in finally disposing of their stock. It yielded them a net return of forty
francs. The oil won its way and from the humble beginning of forty barrels
in 1861, the following year witnessing a demand for fifteen-hundred-thousand
gallons. By 1863 it had come largely into use and since that time it has become
a staple article of commerce. Dr. Crawford served as consul at Antwerp until
1866, when he returned home and began a successful career as an oil-producer.
It was fortunate that Col. Drake chanced upon the shallowest spot in the oil-
regions where petroleum has ever been found, when he located the first well,
and equally lucky that a practical oilman represented the United States at Ant-
werp in 1861. Had Drake chanced upon a dry-hole and some other man been
consul at Antwerp, oil-developments might have been retarded for years.
" Oft what seems a trifle,
A mere nothing in itself, in some nice situations
Turns the scale of Fate and rules important actions."
It is interesting to note that in the original land-warrants to Samuel M. Fox
certain mineral-rights are reserved, although oil is not specified. A clause in
each of the documents reads :
* * * To the use O f him, the said Samuel M. Fox, his heirs and assigns forever, free and
clear of all restriction and reservation as to mines, royalties, quit-rents or otherwise, excepting
and reserving only the fifth part of all gold and silver-ore for the use of this Commonwealth, to
be delivered at the pit's mouth free of all charges.
The lands of Joseph M. Fox extended five miles down the Allegheny, to
the north bank of the Clarion River. He built a home a mile back of the Alle-
gheny and endeavored to have the county-seat established at the junction of the
two streams. The village of Foxburg, which bears the family-name and is four
miles below Emlenton, had no existence until long after his death. Contrary
to the accepted opinion, he was not a Quaker, nor do his descendants belong to
the Society of Friends or any religious denomination in particular.
The prudence and wisdom of his father's policy left the estate in excellent
shape when its management devolved largely upon W. L. Fox. Progressive
and far-seeing, the young man possessed in eminent degree the business-quali-
ties needed to handle vast interests successfully. His honored mother and his
younger brother aided him in building up and constantly improving the rich
heritage. Oil-operations upon and around it added enormously to the value of
the property. Hundreds of prolific wells yielded bounteously and the town of
Foxburg blossomed into the prettiest spot on the banks of the Allegheny. The
Foxes erected a spacious school and hotel, graded the streets, put up dainty
residences and fostered the growing community most generously. A bank was
established, stores and dwellings multiplied, the best people found the sur-
242
SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
roundings congenial and the lawless element had no place in the attractive
settlement. The master-hand of William Logan Fox was visible everywhere.
With him to plan was to execute. He constructed the railroad that connected
Foxburg with St. Petersburg, Edenburg and Clarion. The slow hacks gave
way to the swift iron-horse that brought the interior towns into close communi-
cation with each other and the world outside. It would be impossible to esti-
mate the advantage of this enterprise to the producers and the citizens of the
adjacent country.
The narrow-gauge railroad from Foxburg to Clarion was an engineering
novelty. It zig-zagged to overcome the big hill at the start, twisted around
ravines and crossed gorges on dizzy trestles. Near Clarion was the highest
and longest bridge, a wooden structure on stilts, curved and single-tracked.
One dark night a drummer employed
by a Pittsburg house was drawn over
it safely in a buggy. The horse left
the wagon-road, got on the railroad-
track, walked across the bridge
the ties supporting the rails were a
foot apart and fetched up at his
stable about midnight. The drum-
mer, who had imbibed too freely
and was fast asleep in the vehicle,
knew nothing of the drive, which the
marks of the wheels on the ap-
proaches and the ties revealed next
morning. The horse kept closely to
the center of the track, while the
wheels on the right were outside the
rails. Had the faithful animal veered
a foot to the right, the buggy would
have tumbled over the trestle and
there would have been a vacant
chair in commercial ranks and a
new voice in the celestial choir. That the horse did not step between the ties
and stick fast was a wonder. The trip was as perilous as the Mohammedan pas-
sage to Paradise over a slack- wire or Blondin's tight-rope trip across Niagara.
Mr. Fox's busy brain conceived even greater things for the benefit of the
neighborhood. Millions of capital enabled him to carry out the ideas of his
resourceful mind. He created opportunities to invest his wealth in ways that
meant the greatest good to the greatest number. The family heartily seconded
his efforts to advance the general welfare. He built and operated the only exten-
sive individual pipe-line in the oil-regions. To extend the trade and influence
of Foxburg he devised new lines of railway, which would traverse a section
-abounding in coal, timber and agricultural products. He outlined the plan of
an immense refinery, designed to employ a host of skilled workmen and utilize
the crude-oil derived from the wells within several miles of his home. In the
midst of these and other useful projects, in the very heyday of vigorous man-
hood, just as the full fruition of his highest hopes seemed about to be grandly
realized, the end of his bright career came suddenly. His death, met in the
-discharge of duty, was almost tragic in its manner and results.
In February of 1880 Conductor W. W. Gaither, of the Foxburg-Clarion
RAILROAD BRIDGE NEAR CLARION.
DOWN THE ZIG-ZAGGED STREAM.
243
Railroad, ejected a peddler named John Clancy from his train, near King's
Mills, for refusing to pay his fare. Clancy shot Gaither, who died in a few days
from the wound. W. L. Fox was the president of the road and a warm per-
sonal friend of the murdered conductor. He took charge of the pistol and
became active in bringing Clancy to punishment. Clancy was placed on trial
at Clarion. President Fox was to produce the pistol in court. Leaving home
on the early train for Clarion, he had proceeded some distance from Foxburg
when he discovered he had forgotten the pistol. He stopped the train and ran
back to get the weapon. When he returned he was almost exhausted. W. J.
McConnell, beside whom he was sitting, attempted to revive him, but he sank
into unconsciousness and expired in the car near the spot where his friend
Gaither was shot. Clancy was convicted of murder in the second degree and
sentenced to eight years in the penitentiary. His wife and twelve-year-old son
were left destitute. The boy went to work for a farmer near St. Petersburg.
A week later, it is said, he was crossing a field in which a vicious bull was feed-
ing. The bull attacked him, ripped his side open, tossed him from the field
into the road and the boy died in a short time. Besides these fatalities result-
ing from Clancy's crime, the business of Foxburg was seriously crippled. The
village depended mainly upon the oil-business of
the Fox estate, of which Mr. Fox, although only
twenty-nine years old, was manager. Its three-
thousand acres of oil-territory, but partially devel-
oped, yielded forty-five-thousand barrels of crude
a month. The refinery was never built, the pipe-
line was sold and extensive development of the
property practically ceased. The pathetic death of
William Logan Fox took the distribution of a mil-
lion dollars a year from the region about Foxburg.
The stricken family erected a splendid church to
his memory, but it is seldom used. Much of its
trade and population has sought other fields and
the pretty town is merely a shadow of the past.
" The massive gates of circumstance
Are turned upon the smallest hinge,
And thus some seeming pettiest chance
Oft gives our life its after tinge."
Fertig & Hammond drilled numerous wells on the Fox estate in 1870-71
and started a bank. Operations were pressed actively by producers from the
upper districts. Foxburg was the jumping off point for pilgrims to the Clarion
field, which Galey No. i well, on Grass Flats, inaugurated in August, 1871.
Others on the Flats, ranging from thirty to eighty barrels, boomed Foxburg
and speedily advanced St. Petersburg, three miles inland, from a sleepy village
of thirty houses to a busy town of three-thousand population. In September
of 1871 Marcus Hulings, whose great specialty was opening new fields, finished
a hundred-barrel well on the Ashbaugh farm, a mile beyond St. Petersburg.
The town of Antwerp was one result. The first building, erected in the spring
of 1872, in sixty days had the company of four groceries, three hotels, innu-
merable saloons, telegraph-office, school-house and two-hundred dwellings.
Its general style was summed up by the victim of a poker-game in the expres.
sive words : "If you want a smell of brimstone before supper go to Antwerp !"
Fire in 1873 wiped it off the face of the planet.
Charles H. Cramer, now proprietor of a hotel in Pittsburg, left the Butler
field to drill the Antwerp well, in which he had a quarter-interest. James M.
WILLIAM LOGAN FOX.
244 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
Lambing, for whom he had been drilling, jokingly remarked : "When you
return ' broke ' from the wildcat well on the Ashbaugh farm I will have another
job for you." It illustrates the ups and downs of the oil business in the
seventies to note that, when the well was completed, Lambing had met with
financial reverses and Cramer was in a position to give out jobs on his own
hook. Victor Gretter was one of the spectators of the oil flowing over the
derrick. The waste suggested to him the idea of the oil-saver, which he
patented. This strike reduced the price of crude a dollar a barrel. Antwerp
would have been more important but for its nearness to St. Petersburg, which
disastrous fires in 1872-3 could not prevent from ranking with the best towns of
Oildom. Stages from Foxburg were crowded until the narrow-gauge railroad
furnished improved facilities for travel. Schools, churches, hotels, newspapers,
two banks and an opera-house flourished. The Pickwick Club was a famous
social organization. The Collner, Shoup, Vensel, Palmer and Ashbaugh farms
and Grass Flats produced three-thousand barrels a day. Oil was five to six
dollars and business strode ahead like the wearer of the Seven-League Boots.
Now the erstwhile busy town is back to its pristine quietude and the farms that
produced oil have resumed the production of corn and grass.
A jolly Dutchman near St. Petersburg, who married his second wife soon
after the funeral of the first, was visited with a two-hours' serenade in token of
disapproval. He expostulated pathetically thus : '"Isay, poys, you ought to
be ashamed of myself to be making all dish noise ven der vas a funeral here
purtysoon not long ago." This dispersed the party more effectually than a
bull-dog and a revolver could have done.
A girl just returned to St. Petersburg from a Boston high-school said, upon
seeing the new fire-engine at work : "Who would evah have dweamed such a
vewy diminutive looking apawatus would hold so much wattah !"
"Where are you going?" said mirth-loving Con. O'Donnell to an elderly
man in a white cravat whom he overtook on the outskirts of Antwerp and pro-
posed to invite to ride in his buggy. " I am going to heaven, my son. I have
been on my way for eighteen years." "Well, good-bye, old fellow! If you
have been traveling toward heaven for eighteen years and got no nearer than
Antwerp, I will take another route."
The course of operations extended past Keating Furnace, up and beyond
Turkey Run, a dozen miles from the mouth of the Clarion River. Good wells
on the Ritts and Neeley farms originated Richmond, a small place that fizzled
out in a year. The Irwin well, a mile farther, flowed three-hundred barrels
in September of 1872. The gas took fire and burned three men to death.
The entire ravine and contiguous slopes proved desirable territory, although
the streak rarely exceeded a mile in breadth. Turkey City, in a nice expanse
to the east of the famous Slicker farm, for months was second only to St.
Petersburg as a frontier town. It had four stages to Foxburg, a post-office,
daily mail-service and two passable hotels. George Washington, who took a
hack at a cherry-tree, might have preferred walking to the drive over the
rough, cut-up roads that led to and from Turkey City. The wells averaged
eleven-hundred feet, with excellent sand and loads of gas for fuel. Richard
Owen and Alan Cochran, of Rouseville, opened a jack-pot on the Johnson
farm, above town. Wells lasted for years and this nook of the Clarion district
could match pennies with any other in the business of producing oil.
Northward two miles was Dogtown, beautifully situated in the midst of a
rich agricultural section. The descendents of the first settlers retain their char-
DOWN THE ZIG-ZAGGED STREAM. 245
acteristics of their German ancestors. Frugal, honest and industrious, they
live comfortably in their narrow sphere and save their gains. The Delo farm,
another mile north, was for a time the limit of developments. True to his
instincts as a discoverer of new territory, Marcus Hulings went six miles north-
east of St. Petersburg, leased B. Delo's farm and drilled a forty-barrel well in
the spring of 1872. Enormous quantities of gas were found in the second sand.
The oil was piped to Oil City. A half-mile east, on the Hummell farm, Salem
township, Lee & Plumer struck a hundred-barreler in July of 1872. The Hum-
mell farm had been occupied for sixty years by a venerable Teuton, whose
rustic son of fifty -five summers described himself as ''the pishness man ov the
firm." The new well, twelve-hundred feet deep, had twenty-eight feet of nice
sand and considerable gas. Its success bore fruit speedily in the shape of a
"town" dubbed Pickwick by Plumer, who belonged to the redoubtable Pick-
wick Club at St. Petersburg. A quarter-mile ahead, on a three-cornered plot,
Triangle City bloomed. The first building was a hotel and the second a hard-
ware store, owned by Lavens & Evans. Charles Lavens operated largely in the
Clarion region and in the northern field, lived at Franklin several years and
removed to Bradford. He is president of the Bradford Commercial Bank and
a tip-top fellow at all times and under all circumstances. Evans may claim
recognition as the author, in the muddled days of shut-downs and suspensions
in 1872, of the world- famed platform of the Grass-Flats producers : " Resolved
that we don't care a damn !" The three tailors of Tooley street, who issued
a manifesto as "We, the people of England," were outclassed by Evans and
his friends. News of their action was flashed to every " council " and "union "
in the oil-country, with more stimulating effect than a whole broadside of for-
mal declarations. Triangle, Pickwick and Paris City have passed to the realm
of forgetfulness.
Marcus Hulings, a leader in the world of petroleum, was born near Phil-
ipsburg, Clarion county, and began his career as a producer in 1860. For
some years he had been a contractor and builder and he turned his practical
knowledge of mechanics to good account. His earliest oil-venture was a well
on the Allegheny River above Oil City, for which he refused sixty-thousand
dollars. To be nearer the producing-fields, he removed to Emlenton and
resided there a number of years. The Hulings family had been identified with
Venango county from the first settlement, one of them establishing a ferry at
Franklin a century ago. Prior to that date the family owned and lived on
what is now Duncan's Island, at the junction of the Susquehanna and Juniata
Rivers, fifteen miles north-west of Harrisburg. Marcus was a pathfinder in
Forest county and opened the Clarion region. He leased Clark & Babcock's
six-thousand acres in McKean county and drilled hundreds of paying wells.
Deciding to locate at Oil City, he built an elegant home on the South Side and
bought a delightful place in Crawford county for a summer residence. His lib-
erality, enterprise and energy seemed inexhaustible. He donated a magnificent
hall to Allegheny College, Meadville, aided churches and schools, relieved the
poor and was active in political affairs. Besides his vast oil-interests he had
mines in Arizona and California, mills on the Pacific coast and huge lumber-
tracts in West Virginia. Self-poised and self-reliant, daring yet prudent, brave
and trustworthy, he was one of the grandest representatives of the petroleum-
industry. Neither puffed up by prosperity nor unduly cast down by adversity,
he met obstacles resolutely and accepted results manfully. My last talk with
him was at Pittsburg, where he told of his endeavor to organize a company to
17
246
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
develop silver-claims in Mexico. He had grown older and weaker, but the
earnestness of youth was still his possession. His eyes sparkled and his face
lightened as he shook my hand at parting and said : "You will hear from me
soon. If this company can be organized I would not exchange my Mexican
properties for the wealth of the Astors !"
He died in a few weeks, his dream unfulfilled. Losses in the west had
reduced his fortune without impairing his splendid courage, hope and patience.
He united the endurance of a soldier with the skill of a commander. Marcus
Hulings deserved to enjoy a winter of old age as green as spring, as full of
blossoms as summer, as generous as autumn. His son, Hon. Willis J. Hulings,
\
served in the Legislature three terms. He introduced the bills prohibiting
railroad-discriminations and was a strong debater on the floor. Senator Quay
favored him for State Treasurer and attempted to stampede the convention
which nominated William Livsey. This was the beginning of the differences
between Quay and the combine which culminated in the rout of the latter and
the triumph of the Beaver statesman in 1895-6. Mr. Hulings lives at Oil City,
has a beautiful home and is colonel of the Sixteenth Regiment of the National
Guards. He practiced law in 1877-81, then devoted his attention to oil-opera-
tions, to mining and lumbering, in which he is at present actively engaged.
John Lee drilled his first well on the Hoover farm, near Franklin, in 1860,
and he is operating to-day in Clinton and Rockland townships. He has had
his share of storm and sunshine, from dusters at Nickelville to a slice of the
Big Injun at Bullion, in the shifting panorama of oil-developments for thirty-six
DOWN THE ZIG-ZAGGED STREAM.
247
years, but his fortitude and manliness never flinched. He is no sour dyspeptic,
whose conduct depends upon what he eats for breakfast and who cannot
believe the world is O. K. if he drills a dry-hole occasionally.
Frederick C. Plumer and John Lee, partners in the Clarion and Butler
fields, were successful operators. Their wells on the Hummell farm netted
handsome returns. By a piece of clever strategy they secured the Diviner
tract, drilled a well that extended the territory' two miles south of Millerstown
and sold out for ninety-thousand dollars. Plumer quit with a competence,
purchased his former hardware-store at Newcastle, took a flyer in the Bullion
district and died at Franklin, his birthplace and boyhood home, in 1879.
"Fred" was a thorough man of affairs, prompt, courteous, affable and popu-
lar. His long sickness was borne cheerfully and he faced the end he died at
thirty-one without repining. His wife and daughter have joined him in the
land of deathless reunions.
" Over the river !
Sailing on waters where lotuses smile.
Passing by many a tropical isle,
Sighting savannas there mile upon mile,
Over the river !
Music forever and beauty for aye,
Sunlight unending the sunlight and day,
Never a farewell to weep on the way,
Over the river!"
East, north and west the area of prolific territory widened. Wells on the
Young farm started a jaunty development at Jefferson Furnace. Once the
scene of activity in iron-manufacture, the old furnace had been neglected for
three decades. Oil awakened the spot from its Rip-Van-Winkle slumber. A
narrow-gauge railroad crossed Bea-
ver Creek on a dizzy trestle, which
afforded an enticing view of derricks,
streams, hills, dales, cleared farms
and wooded slopes. The wells have
pumped out, the railroad has been
switched off and the stout furnace
stands again in its solitary dignity.
James M. Guffey, J. T. Jones, Wesley
Chambers and other live operators
kept branching out until Beaver
City, Mongtown, Mertina, Edenburg,
Knox, Elk City, Fern City and Jeru-
salem, with Cogley as a supplement,
were the centers of a production that
aggregated ten-thousand barrels a
day. The St. Lawrence well, on the
Bowers farm, a mile north of Eden-
burg, was finished in June of 1872
and directed attention to Elk town-
ship. For two years it pumped sixty-
nine barrels a day, six days each week, the owners shutting it down on Sunday.
Previously Captain Hasson, of Oil City, and R. Richardson, then of Tarr Farm
and now of Franklin, had drilled in the vicinity. Ten dusters north of the
Bowers farm augured poorly for the St. Lawrence. It disappointed the prophets
of evil by striking a capital sand and producing with a regularity surpassed
BEAVER CREEK AT JEFFERSON FURNACE.
24 8 SKETCHES IN CRUDE OIL.
only by one well on Cherry Run. It was not "a lovely toy, most fiercely
sought, that lost its charm by being caught."
The St. Lawrence jumped the northern end of the Clarion district to the
front. Hundreds of wells ushered in new towns. Knox, on the Bowers farm,
attained a post-office, a hardware store and a dozen dwellings, its proximity
to Edenburg preventing larger growth. The cross-roads collection of five-
houses and a store known as Edenburg progressed immensely. John Men-
denhallandj. I. Best's farm-houses, 'Squire Kribbs's country-store and justice-
mill, a blacksmith-shop and three dwellings constituted the place at the date of
the St. Lawrence advent. The nearest hotel the Berlin House was three
miles northward. In six months the quiet village became a busy, hustling,
prosperous town of twenty-five hundred population. It had fine hotels, fine
stores, banks and people whom a destructive fire it eliminated two-thirds of
the buildings in one night could not " send to the bench." When the flames
had been subdued, a crowd of sufferers gathered at two o'clock in the morning,
sang "Home, Sweet Home," and at seven were clearing away the embers to
rebuild. Narrow-gauge railroads were built and the folks didn't scare at the
cars. Elk City flung its antlers to the breeze two miles east. Isaac N. Patter-
sonhe is president of the Franklin Savings Bank and a big operator in Indi-
ana had a creamy patch on the Kaiser farm. Jerusalem's first arrival Guf-
fey's wells created it was a Clarion delegate with a tent and a cargo of liquids.
He. dealt the drink over a rough board, improvised as a counter, so briskly that
his receipts in two days footed up seven-hundred dollars. He had no license,
an officer got on the trail and the vendor decamped. He is now advance-
agent of a popular show, wears diamonds the size of walnuts and tells hosts of
oil-region stories. The Clarion field was not inflamed by enormous gushers,
but the wells averaged nicely and possessed the cardinal virtue of enduring
year after year. It is Old Sol, steady and persevering, and not the flashing
meteor, "a moment here, then gone forever," that lights and heats the earth
and is the fellow to bank upon.
An Edenburg mother fed her year-old baby on sliced cucumbers and milk,
and then desired the prayers of the church "because the Lord took away her
darling." " How is the baby?" anxiously inquired one lady of another at
Beaver City. " Oh, baby died last week, I thank you, " was the equivocal reply.
Some of the oilmen were liberally endowed with the devotional sentiment.
When the news of a blazing tank of oil at Mertina reached Edenburg, a jolly
operator telegraphed the fact to Oil City, with the addendum: " Everything has
gone hell ward. " A half-hour later came his second dispatch: "The oil is
blazing, with big flames going heavenward." Such a happy blending of the
infernal with the celestial is seldom witnessed in ordinary business.
The behavior of some people in a crisis is a wonderful puzzle, sometimes
funnier than a pig-circus. At the St. Petersburg fire, which sent half the town
up in smoke, an old woman rescued from the Adams House, with a bag of
money containing four-hundred dollars, was indignant that her fifty-cent spec-
tacles had been left to burn. A male guest stormed over the loss of his
satchel, which a servant had carried into the street, and threatened a suit for
damages. The satchel was found and opened. It had a pair of dirty socks,
two dirty collars, a comb and a toothbrush ! The man with presence of mind
to throw his mother-in-law from the fourth-story window and carry a feather-
pillow down stairs was not on hand. St. Petersburg had no four-story buildings.
John Kiley and " Ed." Callaghan headed a circle of jolly jokers at Triangle
DOWN THE ZIG-ZAGGED STREAM. 249
City and Edenburg. Hatching practical sells was their meat and drink. One
evening they employed a stranger to personate a constable from Clarion and
arrest a pipe-line clerk for the paternity of a bogus offspring. In vain the
astonished victim protested his innocence, although he acknowledged knowing
the alleged mother of the alleged kid. The minion of the law turned a deaf
ear to his prayers for release, but consented to let him go until morning upon
paying a five-dollar note. The poor fellow thought of an everlasting flight from
Oildom and was leaving the room to pack up his satchel when the "constable "
appeared with a supply of fluids. The joke was explained and the crowd
liquidated at the expense of the subject of their pleasantry. Kiley was an oil-
man and operated in the northern fields. Callaghan slung lightning in the
telegraph-office. He married at Edenburg and went to Chicago. His wife
procured a divorce and married a well-known Harrisburger.
A letter from his feminine sweetness, advising him to hurry up if he wished
her not to marry his rival, so flustrated an Edenburg druggist that he imbibed
a full tumbler of Jersey lightning. An irresistible longing to lie down seized
him and he stretched himself for a nap on a lounge in a room back of the
store. John Kiley discovered the sleeping beauty, spread a sheet over him
and prepared for a little sport. He let down the blinds, hung a piece of crape
on the door and rushed out to announce that "Jim" was dead. People
flocked to learn the particulars. Entering the drug-store a placard met their
gaze : "Walk lightly, not to disturb the corpse !" They were next taken to
the door of the rear apartment, to see a pair of boots protruding from beneath
a sheet. Nobody was permitted to touch the body, on a plea that it must await
the coroner, but the friends were invited to drink to the memory of the
deceased pill-dispenser and suggest the best time for his funeral. Thus mat-
ters continued two hours, when the "corpse" wakened up, kicked off the
sheet and walked out ! His friends at first refused to recognize him, declaring
the apparition was a ghost, but finally consented to renew the acquaintance
upon condition that he "set 'em up " for the thirsty multitude.
A Clarion operator, having to spend Sunday in New York, strayed into a
fashionable church and was shown to a swell seat. Shortly after a gentleman
walked down the aisle, glared at the stranger, drew a pencil from his pocket,
wrote a moment and handed him a slip of paper inscribed, "This is my pew."
The unabashed Clarionite didn't bluff a little bit. He wrote and handed back
the paper : " It's a darned nice pew. How much rent do you ante up for it?"
The New-Yorker saw the joke, sat down quietly and when the service closed
shook hands with the intruder and asked him to dinner. The acquaintance
begun so oddly ripened into a poker-game next evening, at which the oilman
won enough from the city clubman to pay ten years' pew-rent. At parting he
remarked: "Who's in the wrong pew now?" Then he whistled softly:
"Let me off at Buffalo!"
Clarion's products were not confined to prize pumpkins, mammoth corn
and oil-wells. The staunch county supplied the tallest member of the National
Guard, in the person of Thomas Near, twenty-one years old, six feet eleven in
altitudinous measurement and about twice the thickness of a fence-rail. The
Clarion company was mustered in at Meadville. General Latta's look of aston-
ishment as he suryeyed the latitude and longitude of the new recruit was ex-
ceedingly comical. He rushed to Governor Hartranft and whispered, "Where
in the name of Goliath did you pick up that young Anak?" At the next
annual review Near stood at the end of the Clarion column. A staff-officer,
250
SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
noticing a man towering a foot above his comrades, spurred his horse across
the field and yelled : "Get down off that stump, you blankety-blank son of a
gun !" The tall boy did not "get down " and the enraged officer did not dis-
cover how it was until within a rod of the line. His chagrin rivaled that of
Moses Primrose with the shagreen spectacles. Poor Near, long in inches and
short in years, was not long for this world and died in youthful manhood.
Hon. James M. Guffey, one of Pennsylvania's most popular and successful
citizens, began his career as a producer in the Clarion district. Born and reared
on a Westmoreland farm, his business aptitude early manifested itself. In
youth he went south to fill a position under the superintendent of the Louis-
ville & Nashville Railroad. The practical training was put to good use by the
JAMES M. GUFFEY.
WESLEY S. GUFFEY.
earnest young Pennsylvaman. Its opportunities for dash and energy to gain
rich rewards attracted him to the oil-region. Profiting by what he learned
from the experiences of others in Venango a careful observer, he did not have
to scorch himself to find out that fire is hot he located at St. Petersburg in
1872. Clarion was budding into prominence as a prospective oil-field. Hand-
ling well-machinery as agent of the Gibbs & Sterrett Manufacturing Company
brought him into close relations with operators and operations in the new terri-
tory. He improved his advantages, leased lands, secured interests in promis-
ing farms, drilled wells and soon stepped to the front as a first-class producer.
Fortune smiled upon the plucky Westmorelander, whose tireless push and fear-
less courage cool judgment and sound discretion tempered admirably. While
always ready to accept the risks incident to producing oil and developing
untried sections, he was not a reckless plunger, going ahead blindly and not
counting the cost. He decided promptly, moved forward resolutely and took
nobody's dust. Those who endeavored to keep up with him had to " ride the
horse of Pacolet" and travel fast. He invested in pipe-lines and local enter-
prises, helped every deserving cause, stood by his friends and his convictions.
DOWN THE ZIG-ZAGGED STREAM. 251
believed in progress and acted strictly on the square. Not one dollar of his
splendid winnings came to him in a manner for which he needs blush, or apolo-
gize or be ashamed to look any man on earth straight in the face. He did not
get his money at the expense of his conscience, of his self-respect, of his gen-
erous instincts or of his fellow-men. Of how many millionaires, in this age of
shoddy and chicanery, of jobbery and corruption, of low trickery and inordi-
nate desire for wealth, can this be said ?
Mr. Guffey is an ardent Democrat, but sensible voters of all classes wished
him to represent them in Congress and gave him a superb send- off in the oil-
portion of the Clarion district. Unfortunately the fossils in the back-town-
ships prevented his nomination. The uncompromising foe of ring-rule, boss-
domination and machine-crookedness, he is a leader of the best elements of
his party and not a noisy ward-politician. His voice is potent in Democratic
councils and his name is familiar in every corner of the producing-regions.
His oil-operations have reached to Butler, Forest, Warren, McKean and Alle-
gheny counties. He furnished the cash that unlocked the Kinzua pool and
extended the Bradford field miles up Foster Brook. In company with John
Galey, Michael Murphy and Edward Jennings, he drilled the renowned Mat-
thews well and owned the juiciest slice of the phenomenal McDonald field.
He started developments in Kansas, putting down scores of wells, erecting a
refinery and giving the state of Mary Ellen Lease a product drouths cannot
blight nor grasshoppers devour. He was largely instrumental in developing
the natural-gas fields of Western Pennsylvania, Ohio and Indiana, heading the
companies that piped it into Pittsburg, Johnstown, Wheeling, Indianapolis and
hundreds of small towns. He owns thousands of acres of the famous gas-
coal lands of his native county, vast coal-tracts in West Virginia and valuable
reality in Pittsburg. He lives in a handsome house at East Liberty, brightened
by a devoted wife and four children, and dispenses a bountiful hospitality.
Quick to mature and execute his plans, he dispatches business with great ce-
lerity, keeping in touch constantly with the details of his manifold enterprises.
He is the soul of honor in his dealings, liberal in his benefactions and always
approachable. His charm of manner, kindness of heart, keen intuition and
rare geniality draw men to him and inspire their confidence and regard. He is
a striking personality, his lithe frame, alert movements, flowing hair, luxuriant
mustache, rolling collar, streaming tie, frock-coat and broad-brimmed hat sug-
gesting General Custer. When at last the vital fires burn low, when his brave
heart beats weak and slow, when the evening shadows lengthen and he enters
the deepening dusk at the ending of many happy years, James M. Guffey will
have lived a life worth living for its worth to himself, to his family, to the com-
munity and to the race.
" The grass is softer to his tread
For rest it yields unnumber'd feet ;
Sweeter to him the wild rose red
Because it makes the whole world sweet,"
Wesley S. Guffey, for many years a prominent operator, resembles his
brother in enterprise, activity and the manly qualities that win respect. He
owns scores of productive wells, and the firm of Guffey & Queen ranks high in
the southern fields. He has labored zealously to secure political reform and
free Pittsburg, where he has his beautiful home and office, from the odious
thraldom of corrupt bossism. Unhappily the last legislature defeated the
efforts of good citizens in this direction. Mr. Guffey is a fluent talker, knows
lots of rich stories and reckons his friends by whole battalions. Pride and
252 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
meanness he despises and "his word is his bond." Another brother, John
Guffey, has been sheriff of Westmoreland county and is a leading citizen. The
Guffeys are men to trust implicitly, to tie to, to swear by and to bank upon at
all times and under all circumstances.
Major Henry Wetter, the embodiment of honor and energy, was the largest
operator in the Clarion district until swamped by the low price of oil. Death
overtook him while struggling against heavy odds
to recuperate his health and fortune. How sad it
is that the flower must die before the fruit can
bloom. A terrible decline in oil-values caused his
failure in 1877 and compelled Merrick & Conley's
Edenburg bank to close.
" I falter where I firmly trod."
Edenburg, in its prime the liveliest inland town
the Clarion district could boast, is in Beaver town-
ship, ten miles from Foxburg and Emlenton. It
was named by. J. G. Mendenhall, who located on
a big farm and opened the Eden Inn fifty years
ago. Two farms, one two miles north and the
other a mile south-west of his home-farm, he
dubbed Jerusalem and Egypt respectively. Men-
denhall lived to see all three tracts productive oil-
HENRY WETTER. . -11 ,- ,
territory, with a busy town occupying part of the
central tract. J. I. Best, who died in 1880, was his early neighbor and P. F.
Kribbs started a country-store opposite the Mendenhall homestead. In the
spring of 1872 Balliet & Co. drilled a duster on the Best farm. Hahn & Co.
had similar ill-luck on the Riser farm, a mile south, following in the wake of
W. J. Brundred's dry-hole on the Eischelman tract a month previous. The
St. Lawrence strike changed the aspect of affairs and brought the territory into
notice. Wooden buildings were hurried up, wells were rushed through the
sand, crowds thronged the streets and Edenburg became the centre of attrac-
tion. Page Maplestone had the first hotel, to which Robert Orr quickly suc-
ceeded. The Winebrennerians had the first church, chased closely by the
Methodists. Two banks, countless stores and shops, plenty of saloons, hun-
dreds of houses and hosts of operators were soon in evidence. Knox, Elk
City, Slam Bang, Wentling, Jefferson, Beaver and other suburban oil-towns put
in an appearance. Ross Haney, D. J. Wyncoop, Charles Lavens, A. J. Urqu-
hart, Gray. Brothers, G. M. Gushing, Clark Hayes, B. F. Painter, J. D. Wolff,
G. W. Moltz, Joseph E. Zuver, James Travis, M. E. Hess, Charles Shaw and
dozens of others were familiar figures. J. M. Gifford launched the Herald,
J. Edd Leslie exploited the Spirit, Campbell Brothers loaded the Oil-7~iines
and Tom Whittaker fired off the malodorous Gattling Gun, Col. J. S. Brown
dealt in real-estate and wrote breezily for the Oil-City Derrick. Sam Magee,
M. M. Meredith and William Wirt Johnson practised law. Major J. B. Mait-
land managed the United Pipe-Lines and Goss Brothers owned the best well
in the diggings. Narrow-guage railroads w r ere built from Emlenton and Fox-
burg, a borough charter was obtained and 1877 saw the town at its highest
point. Severe fires scourged it frightfully, the Butler field lured many of the
operators and Edenburg relapsed into a tidy village.
Thomas McConnell, Smith K. Campbell, W. D. Robinson and Col. J. B.
Finlay, of Kittanning, in 1860 purchased two acres of land on the west bank of
DOWN THE ZIG-ZAGGED STREAM. 253
the Allegheny, ninety rods above Tom's Run, from Elisha Robinson. Organ-
izing the Foxburg Oil-Company of sixteen shares, they drilled a well four-
hundred-and-sixty feet. An obstruction delayed work a few days, the war
broke out and the well was abandoned. The same parties paid Robinson five-
thousand dollars in 1865 for one-hundred acres and sold thirty to Philadelphia
capitalists. The latter formed the Clarion and Allegheny-River Oil-Company
and sunk a well which struck oil on October tenth, the first produced in the
upper end of Armstrong county and the beginning of the Parker development.
Venango was drooping and operators sought the southern trail. The Robin-
son farm was not perforated as quickly as "you could say Jack Robinson,"
the owners choosing not to cut it into small leases, but other tracts were seized
eagerly. Drilled deeper, the original Robinson well was utterly dry ! Had it
been finished in 1860-1 the territory might have been condemned and the
Parker field never heard of!
John Galey's hundred-barrel well, drilled in 1869 on the island above
Parker, relieved the monotony of commonplace strikes twenty to fifty barrels
on the Robinson and adjacent farms and elevated the district to the top rung
of the ladder. Parker's Landing a ferry and a dozen houses named from a
pioneer settler, ambled merrily to the head of the procession. The center of
operations that stretched into Butler county and demonstrated the existence of
three greasy streaks, Parker speedily became a red-hot town of three-thousand
inhabitants. Hotels, stores, offices, banks and houses crowded the strip of
land at the base of the steep cliff, surged over the hill, absorbed the suburbs of
Lawrenceburg and Farrentown and proudly wore the title of "Parker City."
Hosts of capital fellows made life a perpetual whirl of business and jollity.
Operators of every class and condition, men of eminent ability, indomitable
hustlers, speculators, gamblers and adventurers thronged the streets. It was
the vim and spice and vigor of Oil City, Rouseville, Petroleum Centre and Pit-
hole done up in a single package. A hundred of the liveliest laddies that ever
capered about a " bull-ring" traded jokes and stories and oil-certificates at the
Oil-Exchange. Two fires obliterated nine-tenths of the town, which was never
wholly rebuilt. Developments tended southward for years and the sun of
Parker set finally when Bradford's rose in the northern sky. The bridge and
a few buildings have held on, but the banks have wound up their accounts, the
multitudes have dispersed, the residence-section of the cliff is a waste and the
glory of Parker a tradition. As the ghost of Hamlet's father observed con-
cerning the bicycle academy, where beginners on wheels were plentiful : "What
a falling off was there !"
Galey leased lands, sunk wells and sold to Phillips Brothers for a million
dollars. He played a strong hand in Butler and Allegheny and removed to
Pittsburg, his present headquarters. He possessed nerve, energy and endur-
ance and, like the country-boy applying fora job, "wuz jam'd full ov day's
work." He would lend a hand to tube his wells, lay pipes, move a boiler or
twist the tools. There wasn't a lazy bone in his anatomy. Rain, mud, storm
or darkness had no terrors for the bold rider, who bestrode a raw-boned horse
and "took Time by the forelock." A young lady from New York, whose
father was interested with Galey in a tract of oil-land, accompanied him on
one of his visits to Millerstown. She had heard a great deal about her father's
partner and the producers, whom she imagined to be clothed in broadcloth and
diamonds. When the stage from Brady drew up at the Central Hotel a gor-
geous chap was standing on the platform. He sported a stunning suit, a huge
254
SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
gold-chain, a diamond-pin and polished boots, the whole outfit got up regard-
less of expense. "Oh, papa, I see a producer! That must be Mr. Galey,"
exclaimed the girl as this prototype of the dude met her gaze. The father
glanced at the object, recognized him as a neighboring bar-tender and spoiled
his daughter's fanciful notion by the curt rejoinder: ''That blamed fool is a
gin-slinger !" Butler had long been a sort of by- word for poverty and mean-
ness, the settlers going by the nickname of " Buckwheats." This was an unjust
imputation, as the simple people were kind, honest and industrious, in these
respects presenting a decided contrast to some of the new elements in the
wake of the petroleum-development. The New-York visitor drove out in the
afternoon to meet his business-associate. A mile below the Diviner farm a
man on horseback was seen approaching. Mud covered the panting steed and
his rider. The young lady, anxious to show how much she knew about the
JOHN H. GALEY.
JAMES M. LAMBING.
country, hazarded another guess. "Oh ! papa," she said earnestly, " I'm sure
that's a Buckwheat!" The father chuckled, next moment greeted the rider
warmly and introduced him to his astonished daughter as "My partner, Mr.
Galey !" A hearty laugh followed the father's version of the day's incidents.
John H. Galey has been engaged in oil-operations for a generation. Com-
ing from Clarion county to Oil Creek in the sixties, he participated in the Pit-
hole excitement, drilled a test-well that broadened the Pleasantville field and
started the Parker furore with his island-strike. He is every inch a petroleum-
pioneer. To him belongs the honor of ushering in various new districts in
Pennsylvania and the oil-developments in Kansas and Texas. Well-earned
success has rewarded his persistent, indomitable energy. He owns a fat slice
of the finest silver-mine in Idaho and holds a large stake in California, Colo-
rado and Nova-Scotia gold-mines. Mr. Galey is thoroughly practical and com-
panionable, has traveled much and observed closely, nor can any excel him in
narrating reminiscences and experiences of life in the oil-regions.
DOWN THE ZIG-ZAG'GED STREAM. 255
John McKeown drilled on the Farren hill and the slopes bordering the
north bank of Bear Creek. Glory Hole popped up on B. B. Campbell's Bear-
Creek farm. Campbell bluff, whole-souled "Ben" is a Pittsburg capitalist,
big in body and mind, outspoken and independent. "The Campbells are
coming" could not have found a better herald. He produced largely, bought
stacks of farms, refined and piped oil and was an important factor in the Arm-
strong-Butler development. At the Ursa Major well, the first on the farm,
large casing and heavy tools were first used, with gratifying results. "Charley ' r
Cramer juggled the temper-screw and laughed at the chaps who solemnly pre-
dicted the joints would not stand the strain and the engine would not jerk the
tools out of the hole. The tool-dresser on Cramer's "tower" drilling went
on night and day, each "tower" lasting twelve hours and the men changing
at noon and midnight was A. M. Lambing, now the learned and zealous par-
ish-priest at Braddock. The well, completed in June of 1871 and good for a
hundred barrels, was owned by James M. Lambing, to whom more than any
other man the world is indebted for the extension of the Butler field.
Born in Armstrong county, in 1861 young Lambing concluded to invest
some time and labor his sole capital in a well at the mouth of Tubb's Run,
two miles above Tionesta. A dry-hole was the poor reward of his efforts.
Enlisting in the Eighty-third Regiment, he received disabling injuries, was dis-
charged honorably, returned to Forest county in 1863, superintended the Den-
ver Petroleum-Company, dealt in real estate and in 1866 commenced operating
at Tidioute. A vein of bad luck in 1867 exhausting his last dollar, he sold his
gold-watch and chain to pay the wages of his drillers. Facing the future
bravely, he worked by the day, contracted to bore wells at Pleasantville,
Church Run, Shamburg and Red Hot and bore up cheerfully during three
years of adversity. In the winter of 1869 he traded an engine for an interest in
a well at Parker that smelled of oil. For another interest he drilled the Wilt
& Crawford well and secured leases on Tom's Run. His Pharos, Gipsy
Queen and Lady Mary wells enabled him to strike out boldly. In company
with his brother John A. Lambing C. D. Angell and B. B. Campbell, he
ventured beyond the prescribed limits to the Campbell, Morrison and Gibson
farms. He " wildcatted" farther south, at times with varying success, point-
ing the way to Modoc and Millerstown. Reverses beset him temporarily, but
hope and courage and integrity remained and he recovered the lost ground.
Charitable, enterprising and sincere, no truer, squarer, manlier man than James
M. Lambing ever marched in the grand cavalcade of Pennsylvania oil-producers.
He and John A. retired from the business years ago to engage in other pursuits.
James M. settled at Corry and served so capably as mayor that the citizens
wanted to elect him for life. His noble, womanly wife, a real helpmeet always,
made his hospitable home an earthly paradise. He had an office in Pittsburg
and customers for his Ajax machinery wherever oil is produced. He died in
January, 1897. "Who can blot his name with any just reproach?"
Counselled by " spirits," Abram James selected a block of land on Blyson
Run, twenty miles up the Clarion River, as the location of a rich petroleum-
field. His luck at Pleasantville induced numbers to believe him an infallible
oil-smeller. The test-well that was to deluge Blyson with crude was bored
eighteen-hundred feet. It had no sand or oil and the tools were stuck in the
hole ! The " spirits " couldn't have missed the mark more widely if they had
directed James to mine for gold in a snow-bank.
The Big-Injun well at Bullion, owned originally by Prentice, Wheeler &
256 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
Crawford, was located in the center of a wheat-patch by William R. Crawford,
of Franklin, a member of the firm. His opinion carried against the choice of
his partners, who preferred a spot fifteen rods eastward, where a well drilled
later was "dry as a powder-horn." The direction "Smiley's Frog" might
happen to jump was less uncertain than the outcome of many a Bullion well be-
fore the tools pierced the sand to the last foot and settled the matter positively.
On October third, 1875, the boiler at the Goss well, J. I. Best farm, ex-
ploded, fatally injuring Alonzo Goss and instantly killing A. Wilson, the man
in charge.
The first pipe-line in Clarion County was laid in 1871, by Martin & Harms,
on lands of the Fox estate. In October of 1877 the Rev. Dr. Newman, Presi-
dent Grant's pastor in Washington, dedicated the second church the Methodists
built at Edenburg. Fire cremated the structure and seriously damaged the
third one on the site in 1879. Probably no other town of its size on the face of
the earth has suffered so repeatedly and disastrously at the hands of incen-
diaries as Edenburg. The third great conflagration, on October thirteenth,
1878, destroyed two-hundred buildings and thirteen oil-wells.
Sad accidents haooened before drillers learned how to manage a flowing
oil-well with casing in it. At Frank Fertig's well, Antwerp, a man was burned
to death. The burning of the Shoup & Vensel well at Turkey City cost three
lives and led to an indignation-meeting at St. Petersburg to protest against
casing. Danger from its use was soon removed by Victor Gretter's invention
of the oil-saver. Gretter, a small, dark-haired, dark-eyed man, lived at St.
Petersburg. He was an inventive genius and a joker of the first water. His
oil-saver doubtless saved many lives, by preventing gas and oil from escaping
when a vein was tapped and coming in contact with the tool-dresser's fire in
the derrick.
Captain John Kissinger, a pioneer settler, died in 1880 at the age of eighty-
five. He was the father of thirty-four children, nine of whom perished by his
dwelling taking fire during the absence of the parents from home. His second
wife, who survived him ten years, weighed three-hundred pounds.
Lillian Edgarton, the plump and talented platform-speaker, was billed to
appear at Franklin. She traveled from Pittsburg by rail. A Parker broker!
was a passenger on the train and wired to the oil-exchange that Josie Mansfield
was on board. The news flew and five-hundred men stood on the platform
when the train arrived. The broker jumped off and said the lady had a seat
near the center of the coach he had just left. The boys climbed on the car-
platform, opened the door and marched in single file along the aisle to get
a look at "Josie." The conductor tore his hair in anguish that the train
would not carry such a crowd as struggled to get on, but he was dumbfounded
when the long procession began to get off. The sell was not discovered until
next morning, by which time the author of the joke had started on his sum-
mer-vacation and could not be reached by the vigilance-committee.
Down the zig-zagged stream proved to not a few operators a pleasant
voyage to wealth and to others the direct road to disaster. Venango, Clarion
and Armstrong counties had been explored, with Butler on deck to surprise
mankind by the extent and richness of its amazing territory.
WHERE IGNORANCE IS BLISS.
The first building at Triangle bore in bold letters and bad spelling a sign
labeled "Tryangle Hotel."
"A Black Justice of the Peace" ran the off-color legend, painted by an
artist not up in punctuation, on the weather-beaten sign of 'Squire Black, at
Shippenville.
An honest Dutchman near Turkey City declined to lease his farm at one-
fourth royalty, insisting upon one-eighth as the very lowest he would accept.
He did not discover that one-eighth was not twice one-fourth until he received
his first instalment of oil, when he fired off the simple expletive, " Kreutz-
millionendonnerwetter !"
A farmer rather shy on grammar, who represented Butler county in the
Legislature at the outset of developments around Petrolia, ' ' brought down the
house" and a unanimous appropriation by his maiden -speech : "Feller citi-
zens, if we'uns up to Butler county wuz yu'uns down to Harrisburg we'uns
would give yu'uns what we'uns is after !"
At Oil City in 1863-4 J. B. Allen, of Michigan, a first-class chemist, had
charge of the prescription-department in Dr. Colbert and Dr. Egbert's
drug-store. He could read Greek as readily as English, declaim in Latin by
the hour, quote from any of the classics and speak three or four modern lan-
guages. To raise money to pay off a mortgage on, his father's farm he walked
across the Allegheny on a wire thirty feet above the water. He carried a large
flag, attached to a frame mounted on a pulley- wheel, which he shoved with
one hand, holding a balance-pole in the other. It was a feat Blondin could not
excel. Allen was decidedly eccentric and the hero of unnumbered stories.
Once a mud-bespattered horseman rushed into the store with a perscription
that called for a deadly poison. The horseman was informed it was not safe
to fill it, but he insisted upon having it, saying it bore a prominent doctor's
signature and there could be no mistake. Allen filled it and wrote on the
label : ' ' Caution If any damphool takes this prescription it will kill him as
dead t as the devil !"
General Reed, of Erie, the largest vessel-owner on the lakes, represented
his district in Congress and desired a second term. The Democrats nominated
Judge Thompson and Clarion county was the pivot upon which the election
turned. The contest waxed furious. Near its close the two candidates brought
up at a big meeting in the wilds of Clarion to debate. Lumbermen and fur-
nacemen were out in force. Reed led off and on the homestretch told the peo-
ple how he loved them and their county. He had built the fastest craft on the
lakes and named the vessel Clarion. As the craft sailed from Buffalo to Erie,
and from Cleveland to Detroit, and from Saginaw to Mackinaw, to Oconomowoc
and Manitowoc, Oshkosh, Milwaukee and Chicago, in every port she folded her
white wings and told of the county that honored him with a seat in Congress.
The people were untutored in nautical affairs and listened with rapt attention.
As the General closed his speech the enthusiasm was unbounded. Things
looked blue for Judge Thompson. After a few moments required to get the
audience out of the seventh heaven of rapture, he stepped to the front of the
platform, leaned over it, motioned to the crowd to come up close and said:
"Citizens of Clarion, what General Reed has told you is true. He has built a
brig and a grand one. But where do you suppose he painted the proud name
of Clarion?" Turning to General Reed, he said: "Stand up here, sir, and tell
these honest people where you had the painter put the name of Clarion. You
never thought the truth would reach back here. I shall tell these people the
truth and I challenge you to deny one word of it. Yes, fellow-citizens, he painted
the proud name of Clarion under the stern of the brig under her stern, gentle-
men !" The indignation of the people found vent in groans and curses. Gen-
eral Reed sat stunned and speechless. No excuses would be accepted and the
vote of proud Clarion made Judge Thompson a Congressman.
HASCAL L. TAYLOR.
MARCUS BROWNSON.
JOHN SATTERFIELD.
xm.
ON THE SOUTHERN TRAIL.
BUTLER'S RICH PASTURES UNFOLD THEIR OLEAGINOUS TREASURES THE
CROSS-BELT DEALS TRUMPS PETROLIA, KARNS CITY AND MILLERSTOWN
THORN CREEK KNOCKS THE PERSIMMONS FOR A TIME MCDONALD MAM-
MOTHS BREAK ALL RECORDS INVASION OF WASHINGTON GREEN COUNTY
HAS SOME SURPRISES GLEANINGS OF MORE OR LESS INTEREST.
' I'm comin' from de Souf, Susanna, do'ant yo cry." Negro Melody.
'Again the lurid light gleamed out." y. Boyle O'Reilly.
'I have never been known to miss one end of the trail." y. Fennimore
'An eagle does not catch flies." Latin Proverb.
' Step by step one goes very far." French Proverb.
4 The light fell like a halo upon their bent heads." Rev. John Watson.
' Either I will find a way or make one." Norman Crest.
'I stretch lame hands of faith and grope." Tennyson.
' We but catch at the skirts of the thing we would be." Owen Meredith.
' Where are frost and snow when the hawthorn blooms 1" Julius Stinde.
' The things we see are shadows of the things to be." Phoebe Cary.
' Oh ! but a man's reach should exceed his grasp." Robert Browning.
' These little things are great to little man." Oliver Goldsmith.
' So will a greater fame redound to thee." Dante.
' Every white will have its black and every sweet its sour." Dr. Percy.
Cooper.
K
"y /" LONDYKE nuggets, cold, yellow and glitter-
ing, could not be more fascinating to lov r ers
of the most exciting methods of gaining
wealth than were the oil-wells that started
Parker on the highway to prosperity. All eyes
turned instinctively southward, believing the next
center of activity lay in that direction. The Israel-
ites scanning the horizon for a glimpse of the prom-
ised land were less earnest and anxious. Butler,
not Canaan, was on everybody's lips. "On to
Richmond," the frenzied cry during the civil war,
appeared in the new dress of "On to Butler!"
For a time, just to catch breath for the supreme
movement, operators groped their way cautiously.
But Napoleon scaled the Alps and the advance-
couriers of the coming host of oilmen climbed
Farren Hill and the slopes beyond. Julius Caesar crossed the Rubicon in days
of old, so Campbell and Lambing in 1871 crossed Bear Creek, three miles
south-west of Parker, to plant the tall derricks which signified that the invasion
of Butler by the petroleumites was about to begin and to be carried through to
a finish. With Richard each of the bold invaders might declare :
" I have set my life upon a cast,
And I will stand the hazard ofthe die."
Butler, the county -seat of Butler county, was laid out in 1802 by the Cun-
ninghams, two brothers from Lancaster, who repose in the old cemetery. The
surveyor was David Dougall, who lived seventy-five years alone, in a shanty
259
DAVID DOUGALL.
260
SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
VENANGO.
near the court-house, dying at ninety-eight. He owned a row of tumble-down
frames on the public-square, eye-sores to the community, but would not sell lest
his poor tenants might suffer by a change of proprietors ! His memory of local
events was marvelous. He walked from Detroit through the forest to Butler,
following an Indian trail, and remembered when Pittsburg had only three brick-
buildings. He was agent of the McCandless family and once consented to
spend a night at the mansion of his friends in Pittsburg. To do honor to the
occasion he wore trousers made of striped bed-ticking. Fearing fire, he would
not sleep up-stairs and a bed was provided in the parlor. About midnight an
alarm sounded. Dougall jumped up, grabbed his shoes and hat and walked
home thirty-three miles before breakfast. He was an eccentric bachelor and
had his coffin ready for years. It was constructed of oak, grown on one of his
farms, which he willed to a friend upon condition that the legatee buried him at
the foot of a particular tree and kept a night-watchman at his grave one year.
He was the last of his race and the last survivor of the bold pioneers to whom
Butler owed its settlement.
Well-known operators figured in the vicinity of Bear Creek. Joseph Overy
drilled rows of good wells, pushed south and founded the town embalmed as
St. Joe in compliment to its progenitor. Marcus Brownson he was active in
Venango and McKean and died at Titusville had a walkover on the Walker
farm, a mile in advance. On Donnelly's
eleven-hundred acres, offered in 1868-
for six-thousand-dollars, scores of me-
- dium wells yielded from 1871 to 1878.
S. D. Karns drained the Morrison farm
and John McKeown hit the "sucker-
rod belt" so called from its extreme
narrowness near Martinsburg. Ralph
Brothers tickled the sand on the Sheak-
ley farm. Up the stream operations
jogged and Argyle City sprouted on the
hillside. Two miles ahead, upon the
line dividing the Jameson and Blaney
farms, Dimick, Nesbit & Co. finished
a wildcat well on April seventeenth,
1892. This was the noted Fanny Jane
gallantly named in honor of a pretty
girl which pumped one-hundred barrels
and gave birth to Petrolia, seven miles
south by west of Parker. George H.
ALLEGHENY. Dimick, examining lands in Fairview
township, Butler county, decided that a natural basin at the junction of South
Bear Creek and Dougherty Run was oil-territory. Fifty men were raising a
barn on the Campbell farm, overlooking this basin. Proceeding to the spot,
he proposed to drill a test well if the owners of the soil would lease enough
land to warrant the undertaking. Terms were agreed upon which secured
twenty acres of the Blaney farm, sixteen of the Jameson, ten of the W. A.
Wilson, ten of the James Wilson and ten of the Graham, at one-eighth roy-
alty. The nearest producing wells at that date were three miles north. The
Fanny Jane stirred the blood of the oil-clans. The moving mass began to/
arrive in May and by July two-thousand people had their home at Petrolia,
ON THE SOUTHERN TRAIL.
261
A charter was obtained and Mr. Dimick was chosen burgess at the first bor-
ough-election, in February of 1873. The town expanded like the turnip Long-
fellow said "grew and it grew and it grew all it was able." Hotels, stores,
shops and offices lined the valley and dwellings crowned the hills. A narrow-
gauge railroad from Parker was built in 1874, extended to Karns City and
Millerstown and ultimately to Butler. Fisher Brothers paid sixty-thousand
?\&
dollars for the Blaney farm and wells multiplied in all directions. A dog-fight
or a street-scrap would gather hundreds of spectators. The Argyle Savings
Bank handled hundreds-of-thousands of dollars daily. Ben Hogan erected a
big opera-house and May Marshall was the Cora Pearl of the frail sisterhood.
R. W. Cram ran the post-office and news-room. "Steve" Harley wafted
newsy items to the newspapers. Dr. Frank H. Johnston, now of Franklin, was
the first physician. Kindred spirits met at "Sam" McBride's drug-store and
18
262 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
Peter Christie's Central Hotel. Poor "Sam," "Dave" Mosier, H. L. Mo
Cance and S. S. Avery are in their graves and others have wandered nobody
knows whither. Petrolia continued the metropolis four years and then dropped
out of the game. Some straggling houses and left-over derricks alone remain
of the gayest, sprightliest, hottest, busiest town that bloomed and withered in
old Butler.
George H. Dimick, the son of a Wisconsin farmer and sire of Petrolia, is
liberally stocked with the never-say-die qualities of the breezy Westerner. At
nineteen he taught a Milwaukee school, landed on Oil Creek in 1860 and was
appointed superintendent of the two Buchanan farms by Rouse & Mitchell.
He drilled on his own account in the spring of 1861, aided in settling the Rouse
estate, enrolled as a private in "Scott's Nine-Hundred" and came out a cap-
tain at the close of the war. In May of 1865 he bent his footsteps towards Pit-
hole, sold lands for the United States Petroleum-Company and drilled eleven
dry-holes on the McKinney farm ! Interests in the Poole, Grant, Eureka and
Burchill spouters offset these losses and added thousands of dollars a week to
his wealth. Staying at Pithole too long, values had shrunk to such a degree
that he was virtually penniless at his departure from the " Magic City" in 1867.
A whaling voyage of fifteen months in the Arctic seas and a sojourn at his boy-
hood home improved his health and he returned in time to share in the Pleas-
antville excitement. He located at Parker's Landing in 1871 as partner of
McKinney & Nesbit in the sale of oil-well supplies. He operated in the Parker
field, at St. Petersburg, Petrolia, Greece City and Slippery Rock. Disposing
of his properties in these localities, he and Captain Peter Grace drilled the
wildcat-well that opened Cherry Grove and paralyzed the market in 1882. He
had been active at Bradford and the middle field felt the influence of his shrewd
movements. He has kept abreast of developments in the southern districts,
sometimes getting several lengths ahead. He is now interested in West Vir-
ginia and Kentucky. Those who know his quick perception, his executive
ability and his intense love for opening new fields would not wonder to hear of
his striking a gusher at Oshkosh or Kamtschatka. Mr. Dimick is a man of
active temperament, high character and sturdy industry, a genuine pathfinder
and tireless explorer.
An Erie boy of fifteen when he left his father's house for the oil-region in
1862, George H. Nesbit first fired a still in a Titusville refinery and in 1863
engaged with Dinsmore Brothers at Tarr Farm. He built a small refinery at
Shaffer, sold it in 1864 and in the spring of 1865 drilled wells for himself on
Benninghoff and Cherry-Tree Runs. He spent two years at Pithole, gaining a
fortune and remaining until the collapse swallowed the bulk of his profits. He
operated at Pioneer in 1867 and a year later at Pleasantville. He and George
H. Dimick prospected in 1869 for oil-belts and fresh territory, located rich
leases on Hickory Creek and established the line of the Venture well at Fagun-
das. In 1870 Nesbit moved to Parker and, in company with John L. McKinney,
sold oil-well machinery and oil-lands. McKinney & Nesbit drilled along Bear
Creek, especially on the Black and Dutchess farms, prospering greatly. The
firm ranked with the most enterprising and realized large returns from wells at
St. Petersburg and Parker. Dimick & Nesbit, with Mr. McKinney as their
associate, opened the Petrolia field in 1872. William Lardin, the contractor of
the Fanny Jane, bought McKinney's interest in the well and leases. The three
partners were right in the swim, their first six wells at Petrolia yielding them a
thousand barrels a day. Nesbit bought the Patton farm, below town, in 1872
ON THE SOUTHERN TRAIL. 263
for twenty-thousand dollars, selling five-eighths. Five third-sand wells ranged
from thirty to one-hundred barrels and oil ruled at three to five dollars. The
fourth-sand was found in 1873, and in January of 1874 Nesbit & Lardin struck a
thousand-barrel gusher on the Patton. The farm paid enormously and Nesbit
became an " oil-prince." He developed hundreds of acres and displayed mas-
terly tact. His check was good for a half-million any day and his luck was so
remarkable that, had he fallen into the river, probably he would not have been
wet. He paid the highest wages and met his bills at sight. He entered the
oil-exchange at Parker, for a time was a high-roller and ended a bankrupt !
The desk on which he wrote his bold, round signature on checks aggregating
many hundred-thousand dollars was stored away among shocks of corn and
sheaves of oats in the weather-stained barn on the Patton farm. J. N. Ireland
bought the tract for seven-thousand dollars. Nesbit drifted about aimlessly,
heard from occasionally at Macksburg and fetching up at last in Cincinnati.
His prestige was gone, his star had waned and he never "caught on" again.
He was no sluggard in business, no dullard in society, no niggard with money,
no laggard in the petroleum-column. Surely the oil-region has furnished its
full allotment of sad romances from real life. Nesbit died July eighth, 1897.
" Time, with a face like a mystery,
And hands as busy as hands can be,
Sits at the loom with Its warp outspread,
To catch in its meshes each glancing thread.
Click, click ! there's a thread of love wove in !
Click, click ! and another of wrong and sin !
What a checkered thing this web will be
When we see it unrolled in eternity !"
James E. Brown, to whom Nesbit sold one-quarter of the Patton farm,
made his mark upon the industries of the state. A carpenter's son, he started
a store on the site of Kittanning, saved money, purchased lands and at his
death in 1880 left his family four-millions. He manufactured iron at various
furnaces and owned a big block of stock in the rolling-mills at East Brady.
Samuel J. Tilden was a stockholder in the works, which employed sixteen
hundred men, turned out the first T-rails west of the Alleghenies and tottered
to their fall in 1874. Mr. Brown cleared eight-hundred-thousand dollars in
1872 by the advance in iron. He owned oil-farms in Butler county, took stock
in the Parker Bridge, the Parker & Karns City Railroad and the Karns Pipe-
Line Company and conducted a bank at Kittanning. His granddaughter,
Miss Findley, who inherited half his wealth, married Lord Linton, a British
taronet. The aged banker he stuck it out to eighty-two knew how to pile
up money.
Stephen Duncan Karns, who had a railroad and a town named in his honor,
was a picturesque figure in the Armstrong-Butler district. With his two uncles
he operated the first West-Virginia well, at the mouth of Burning-Spring Run,
In 1860. His experience at his father's Tarentum salt- wells enabled him to run
engine, to sharpen tools and clean out an old salt-well to be tested for oil.
The well pumped forty barrels a day during the winter of 1860-1. Fort Sumter
was bombarded, several Kanawha operators were killed and young Karns
escaped by night in a canoe. He enlisted, served three years, led his company
at Antietam and Chancellorsville and in 1866 leased one acre at Parker's Land-
ing from Fullerton Parker. His first well, starting at one barrel a day, by
months of pumping was increased to twelve barrels and earned him twenty-
thousand dollars. From the Miles Oil- Company of New York he leased a farm
264 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
and an abandoned well a mile below Parker. He drilled the well through the
sand and it produced twenty-five barrels a day. This settled the question of
oil south of Parker. " Dune," as he was usually called by his friends, leased
the Farren farm, drilled on Bear Creek, secured the famous Stonehouse farm
of three-hundred acres and in 1872 enjoyed an income of five-thousand dollars
a day ! A mile south of Petrolia, on the McClymonds farm, Cooper Brothers
were about to give up their first well as a hopeless duster. Karns thought the^
hole not deep enough, bought the property, resumed drilling and in two days
the well was flowing one-hundred barrels ! The town of Karns City blossomed
into a community of twenty-five-hundred people, with three big hotels, stores,
offices and dwellings galore. It fell a prey to the flames eventually. The
McClymonds, Riddle and J. B. Campbell farms doubled "Dune's" big income
for many moons. He had the second well at Greece City and for a year or
more was the largest producer in the oil-region. He built a pipe-line from
Karns City to Harrisburg to fight the United Lines, held fifty-five-thousand
dollars' stock in the Parker Bridge and controlled the Parker & Karns-City
Railroad and the Exchange Bank.
Near Freeport, on the Allegheny River, thirty miles above Pittsburg, he
lassoed a great farm and erected a fifty-thousand-dollar mansion. Fourteen
race-horses fed in his palatial stables. Guests might bathe in champagne
and the generous host spent money royally. A good strike or a point gained
'meant a general jollification. He played billiards skillfully, handled cards
expertly and wagered heavily on anything that hit his fancy. He and his wife
were in Paris during the siege. Upon his return from Europe he built the
Fredericksburg & Orange Railroad, in Virginia. The glut of crude from But-
ler wells dropped the price in 1874 to forty cents. Losses of different kinds
cramped Karns and the man worth three-millions in 1872-3 was obliged to
surrender his stocks and lands and wells and begin anew ! James E. Brown
secured Glen-Karns, the beautiful home below Freeport. In 1880 Karns
induced E. O. Emerson, the wealthy Titusville producer, to start a cattle-ranch
in Western Colorado. For six years he superintended the herds on the
immense plains, joining the round-ups, sleeping on the ground with the boys,
roping and branding cattle and accumulating a stock of health and muscle
which he thinks will carry him to the hundred-year mark. Emerson had
bought from Karns the Riddle farm for eleven-thousand dollars. He deepened
one well supposed dry to the fourth sand. It flowed six-hundred barrels
and Emerson sold the tract in sixty days for ninety-thousand dollars. Karns
returned from the west, practiced law a short while in Philadelphia and for
some years has managed a Populist paper at Pittsburg. He ran against John
Dalzell for Congress and walked at the head of the parade when General
Coxey's "Army of the Commonweal " marched through the Smoky City. He
enjoyed making money more than handling it, was honorable in his dealings,
intensely active, comprehensive in his views and positive in his opinions. His
"yes" or "no" was given promptly. " Dune" is of slender build and ner-
vous temperamont, easy in his manners, frank in his utterances and not scared
by spooks in politics or trade. He had his share of light and shade, struggle
and triumph, defeat and victory, incident and adventure in his pilgrimage.
." How chances mock,
And changes fill the cup of alteration
With divers liquors!"
Richard Jennings, over whose head the grass and flowers are growing, and
ON THE SOUTHERN TRAIL. 265
his brother-in-law, the late Jacob L. Meldren, did much to develop the territory
east of Petrolia. Coming from England to Armstrong county a half-century
ago, they located at what is now Queenstown. Meldren bought the farm at
the head of Armstrong Run on which the noted Armstrong well was struck in
1870. It opened "the Cross-Belt," an abnormal strip running nearly at right
angles to the main lines and remarkable for mammoth gushers. This unpre-
cedented " belt " upset the theories of geologists and operators. The first and
only one of its kind, it resembled the mule that " had no pride of ancestry and
no hope of posterity. " Mr. Jennings drilled on many farms and gathered a
large fortune. He was a man of character and ability, with a priceless reputa-
tion for integrity and truthfulness. Once he sent his foreman, Daniel Evans, to
secure the Dougherty farm, on the southern edge of Petrolia, owned by two
maiden sisters. The foreman knocked at the door, engaged board for a week,
was engaged to the elder sister before the week expired and had the pleasure
of reaping a harvest of greenbacks from the property in due course. It is sat-
isfactory to find such enterprise abundantly recompensed. Not so lucky was
a gay and festive operator with an ancient maiden who owned a tempting patch
of land near Millerstown. He exhausted every art to get a lease, in despera-
tion finally hinting at matrimony. The indignant lady exploded like a ton of
dynamite, seizing a broom and compelling the bold visitor to beat an ungrace-
ful retreat through the window, minus his hat and gloves ! Evans leased part
of the farm to his former employer, who finished the Dougherty spouter on
November twenty-second, 1873. It flowed twenty-seven-hundred barrels a day
from the fourth sand, loading Jennings with greenbacks and sending the specu-
lative trade into convulsions. A patriotic citizen, devoted parent and genuine
philanthropist, Richard Jennings was sincerely respected and his death was
deeply mourned. His sons inherited their father's sagacity and manly prin-
ciple. They have operated in the McDonald field and are prominent in bank-
ing and business at Pittsburg.
The " Cross-Belt " crossed the petroleum-horizon in dead earnest in March
of 1874. Taylor & Satterfield's Boss well, on the James Parker farm, two
miles east of Petrolia, flowed three-thousand barrels a day ! William Hartley
General Harrison Allen defeated him for Auditor-General in 1872 organized
the Stump Island Oil-Company and drilled from the mouth of the Clarion River
six miles south, in 1866-7. He and John Galey owned the Island-King well at
Parker's Landing and a hundred others, some of which crept well down into
Armstrong county. Richard Jennings and Jacob L. Meldren had punched
holes on Armstrong Run and around Queenstown, but the spouter in the
Parker-farm ravine was the fellow that touched the spot and hypnotized the
trade. A solid stream of oil poured into the tank as if butted through the
pipe by a hundred hydraulic-rams. The billowy mass of fluid heaved and
foamed and boiled and tried its level best to climb over the wooden walls and
unload the roof. David S. Criswell, of Oil City, had an interest in the gusher,
and Criswell City a shop, a lunch-room and five or six dwellings was
imprinted on Heydrick & Stevenson's map. Stages between Petrolia and
Brady halted at the bantling town for the convenience of pilgrims to the shrine
of the Boss a "boss" representing innumerable "bar'ls." Wells were hur-
ried down at a spanking gait, to divy up the oily freshet. "The best-laid
schemes o' mice an' men gang aft a-gley " and the uncertainty of fourth-sand
wells was forcibly illustrated. Jennings had dry-holes on the Steele and Bed-
ford farms, the latter ten rods north-west of the mastodon. Taylor & Satter-
266
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
field's No. 2, thirty rods west, was a small affair. Dusters and light pumpers
studded the road from Criswell to Petrolia, with the Hazelwood Oil-Company's
two-hundred-barreler a trifle north to tantalize believers in a straight " belt. "
Lines and belts and theories and former experiences amounted to little or
nothing. The only safe method was to "go it blind " and bear with exemplary
resignation whatever might turn up, be it a big gusher or a measly duster.
The Boss weakened to eleven-hundred barrels in July and to a humble
pumper by the end of the year. Forty rods east, on the Crawford farm, Hun-
ter & Cummings plucked a September pippin. Their Lady Hunter, sixteen-
hundred feet deep and flowing twenty-five-hundred barrels, was a trophy to
enrapture any hunter coming from the chase. The Boss and the Lady Hunter
were the lord and lady of the manor, none of the others approaching them in
importance. Hunter & Cummings laid a pipe-line to East Brady, to load their
oil on the Allegheny- Valley Railroad. The railroad company refused to fur-
nish cars, urging a variety of pretexts to disguise the unfair discrimination.
The owners of the oil had a Roland for the Oliver of the officials. They
quietly gauged their output and let it run upon the ground, notifying the com"
pany to pay for the oil. A new light dawned upon the railroaders, who dis-
covered they had to deal with men who knew their rights and dared maintain
them. Crawling off their high stool, they footed the bill, apologized meekly
Their pale pink blossoms wave
O'er lowly mounds, where rest beneath
Our martyrs in their grave.
in white and gold the daisies shine
All o'er encampment hill ;
There wild-rose and the Columbine
Lift glistening banners still.
Here plumy ferns, an emerald fringe,
Adorn our stream's bright way ;
And soft grass whence the violet springs,
With fragrant flowers of May.
Oh, there's a spell around these blooms
Owned by no rarer flowers ;
They blossomed on our soldiers' tombs
And they shall bloom on ours.
To us, as to our sires, their tone
Breathes forth the same glad strain,
"We spring to life when winter's gone.
And ye shall rise again."
Uncultured 'round our path they grow,
Smile up before our tread
To cheer, as they did long ago
Our noble-hearted dead.
Arbutus in the sheltering wood
Sighs," Here he came to pray,"
And Pansies whisper, " Thus we stood
When heroes passed away."
Thus every wild-flower's simple leaf
Breathes in my native vale,
To conscious hearts, some record brief,
Some true and touching tale.
Wealth's gay parterre in glory stands :
I own their foreign claims,
Those gorgeous flowers from other lands,
Rare plants with wondrous names.
Ye blossomed in our martyr's field
Beneath the warm spring's sun,
Sprung from the turf where lowly kneeled
Our matchless Washington.
Ye in our childhood's garden grew,
Our sainted mother's bowers ;
My grateful heart beats high to you,
My own wild valley-flowers !
The collapse of the syndicate Times
terminated experimental dailies in Oil
THE LITERARY GUILD. 355
City. Mr. Gilfillan, F. W. Mitchell, P. R. Gray and other stockholders sold the
good-will and smoking ruins to Sheriff H. H. Herpst, who revived the weekly
with Dr. Davis at the bellows. It was rather weakly, notwithstanding the doc-
tor's excellent doses of leaded pellets. Advertisers seemed a trifle shy and col-
umns of blank space, by no means nutritious pabulum, were not infrequent.
Everybody favored a newer, grander, bolder stride forward. The borough and
suburbs had attained the dignity of a city, an oil-exchange had been organized,
railroads were coming in and a paper of metropolitan scope was urgently de-
manded. Usually men adapted to a particular niche turn up and the traditional
"long-felt want" is not likely to remain unfilled.
Coleman E. Bishop and W. H. Longwell landed in Oil City one summer
afternoon to "view the landscape o'er," as good Dr. Watts phrased it. They
had heard the Macedonian cry and decided to size up the situation. Bishop
achieved greatness at Jamestown, N. Y., where he edited the Journal, by at-
tacking Commander Gushing, the naval officer who sank the Confederate ram
Merrimac, and kicking him down stairs when the indignant marine invaded the
sanctum to "horsewhip the editor and pitch him out of the window." Long-
well, a brave soldier and sharp man of affairs, had learned the ropes at Pithole
and Petroleum Centre. A deal was soon closed, material ordered and a build-
ing on Seneca street rented, Herpst keeping an interest as silent partner.
The Oil-City Derrick, ordained to become "the organ of oil," was born
on the thirteenth of September, 1871. The name was an inspiration, sprung by
Bishop as a surprise, instead of the hackneyed Times, which had been agreed
upon by the three proprietors. To embody its most conspicuous emblem in
the head of a newspaper designed to represent the oil-trade suggested itself to
the alert editor. He consulted only his foreman, Charles E. White, long the
brilliant editor of the Tidioute News, who had come with him from Jamestown
and approved of the drawing from which the famous design of a derrick spout-
ing newspapers was engraved. It was a go from the start. People were roused
from their slumber by strong-lunged newsboys shouting, "Derrick, ere's yer
Derrick, Derrick !" Their first impulse was to wonder if they had left any der-
ricks out all night, exposed to thieves and marauders, and somebody was bring-
ing them home. The new sheet was scanned eagerly. It had departments of
"Spray," "Lying Around Loose" and "Pick-ups," teeming with catchy,
piquant, invigorating items. Its advocacy of the producers' cause boomed the
paper tremendously. A bitter fight with the Allegheny Valley Railroad in-
creased its circulation and prestige. Bishop's individuality permeated every
page and column. He had the sand to continue the railroad war, but a threat
to remove the shops from Oil City weakened his partners and they bought him
out in 1873. From the "Hub of Oildom" he went to Buffalo to edit the Express.
Thence he went to Bradford, embarked in oil-operations on Kendall Creek and
enlivened the Chautauqua Herald, Rev. Theodore Flood's bonanza, one sum-
mer. Invited to New York in 1880, he managed the Merchants' Review and
edited Judge until it changed owners in 1885. Leaving the metropolis, he wan-
dered to Dakota and freshened the Rapid-City Republican. Returning east, he
furnished Washington correspondence to various papers. Locomotor-ataxia
disabled him and he died in 1896. Mrs. Bishop is a popular teacher of the
Delsarte system and has published a book on the subject. Miss Bishop is a
talented lecturer. It is not disparaging the galaxy of oil-region journalists to
say that C. E. Bishop, the gamest, keenest, raciest member of the fraternity,
might be termed a bishop in the congregation of men who have shaped public
356 SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
opinion in the domain of grease. No matter how difficult or delicate the theme,
from pre-natal influence to monopoly, from heredity to fishing, from biology to
pumpkins, he treated it tersely and charmingly. A thoroughbred from top to
toe, his was a Damascus blade and " none but himself can be his parallel."
Captain Longwell the title was awarded for gallantry in many a hard battle
attended to the business-end with decided success. Buying Herpst's claim,
he conducted the whole concern four years and sold out at a steep figure in
1877. He raked in wealth producing and speculating, quitting well-heeled finan-
cially. A native of Adams county, he was educated at Gettysburg and learned
printing in the office of the Chambersburg Repository and Whig, then published
by Col. Alexander K. McClure, now the world-famed editor of the Philadelphia
Times. His mother was a descendant of James Wilson, a signer of the Decla-
ration of Independence. Herpst opened a wall-paper store, removed later to
Jamestown and died there in 1884. Square, honest and "straight as a string,"
he merited the regard of his fellows. Charles H. Morse, the first city-editor,
had the snap to corral news at sight and present it toothsomely. Who that
knew him in his beardless youth imagined Charley would "get religion" and
adorn the pulpit ? He entered the ministry and for over twenty years has been
pastor of a Baptist church at Mercer. Were he to serve up to his hearers some
of the funny experiences he encountered as a reporter, he would discount
Talmage's recitals of the slums and Dr. Parkhurst's leap-frog exploits in the
'Tenderloin ! Archie Frazer wrote the market-report, ten or twelve lines at first
and a plump column or more ultimately. In November of 1872 it was my luck
to engage with the Derrick and inaugurate the role of traveling correspondent.
Venango and Warren, with Clarion, Armstrong and Butler budding into prom-
inence, covered the oil-fields. Bradford loomed up in the autumn of 1875,
extending my mission from the northern line of McKean county to the southern
boundary of Butler before the close of the term of five years. These breezy
days were crowded with bustle and excitement, adventure and incident. Over
the signature of " J. J. M." possibly remembered by old-timers fate appointed
me to chronicle a multitude of events that played an important part in petroleum-
annals. The system of "monthly reports" was arranged methodically, the
producing sections were visited regularly and my acquaintance embraced every
oil-farm and nearly every oil-operator in the rushing, hustling, get-up-and-get
world of petroleum.
Orion Clemens, a brother of "Mark Twain," worked on the Derrick a few
weeks in 1873. The exact opposite of " Mark," his forte was the pathetic. He
could write up the death of an insect or a reptile so feelingly that sensitive folks
would shed gallons of tears in the wood-shed over the harrowing details. He
fairly reveled in the gloomy, somber, tragic element of life. Daily contributions
taxed him too severely, as he composed slowly, and his resignation caused no
surprise. Frank H. Taylor, a young graduate from the Tidiotite Journal, suc-
ceeded Bishop, vacating the chair to undertake the field-work. Frank can afford
to "point with pride" to his career as editor and compiler of statistics. His
" Handbook" is an unquestioned authority on petroleum. Once he resigned
to float the Call, a sprightly Sunday folio, which glistened from the spring of
1877 to October of 1878. "Puts and Calls," the humorous column, had to
answer for bursting off tons of vest-buttons. Taylor acquired money and fame
as a journalist, was president of select-council, called the turn as a producer
and saved a snug competence. During a term of Congress he was Hon. J. C.
Sibley's secretary, a position demanding remarkable tact and industry. Now
THE LITERARY GUILD.
357
he is leasing lands, drilling wells and looking after the oil-properties of Sibley
& Co. in Indiana. Oil City is his home and he is as busy as a boy clubbing
chestnuts or a Brooklynite dodging the trolley-cars at thirty miles an hour.
Robert W. Criswell, who has forged to the front by his mirth-provoking
sketches, followed Tay- ^ ^^ lor as editor in 1877.
He fertilized the "Stray- / /\ sand, "parodied Shakes-
peare and developed / \ Grandfather Lickshin-
gle," giving the Derrick / ^jgHP*pP Wo*. national celebrity. He
stepped down when the [3g |n shuffle occurred in 1877
and went to the Cincin- fj| '-
Andrew Carr, who found the load unbearable and shoved it upon Rufus B_
Stone, brother of Congressman Charles W. Stone. Mr. Stone, an able lawyer,
was Chancellor of Mississippi in the reconstruction-days. The reconstructed
JOSEPH MOORHEAU.
H. F. BARBER.
EDWARD C.
legislature lopped off his salary and he located at Bradford to practice law. He
owned the Star several years, writing most of the political editorials that carried
weight and gave the paper high standing. H. F. Barber, a man of fine intellect
and noble purpose, dropped the Smethport Miner, relieved Stone and honed the
Star a few years, assisted at times by George Allen's clever stroke. Protracted
sickness, during which he showed ''how sublime it is to suffer and be strong,"
at last "withered the garlands on his brow." He is dead, but "his speaking
dust has more of life than half its breathing moulds." Allen slid to Buffalo to>
polish up a railroad-periodical. "Judge " Johnson in 1875 he landed at Brad-
ford, served a term in the Legislature and another as postmaster, operated in.
oil and died three years ago controlled the Star after Barber, whose widow^
still retains an interest in the paper. Ex-Senator Emery fitted out the Daily
Record, which seeks to trail the standard of the Standard in the dust and ticket
independent producers, refiners and pipe-liners to a petroleum-Utopia. "Ed.'"
Jones, the adept who toed the chalk-mark on the Harrisburg Call, whirled the
emery-wheel so expertly that the Record has never approached Davy Jones's
locker. It is snappy and full of fight as a shillaleh at Donnybrook Fair. Carr's
Sunday-Mail, freighted with a car of delicate morsels, barked up the wrong;
tree and went to the bow-wows. Carr rolled down to Pittsburg to sell buggies,
bagging a cargo of ducats. "Tom" L. Wilson he's as humorous as they
make 'em got out three numbers of Sunday Morning, a four-page blanket in
size and a ten-course banquet in contents. Col. Ege shut it down for publishing;
a rank extract from Walt Whitman's "Blades o' Grass" and boomed the
Evening- Times, which expired in infancy. Ege was a banker who hankered to-
be State-Treasurer, banked upon newspaper-support, went into bankruptcy^
25
374
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
received an appointment in the Philadelphia Mint and traveled westward when
Cleveland shuffled the pack for a new deal. Wilson wrote for the oil-region
press, handled the Reading branch of a Harrisburg paper, edited the Washing-
ton Review Sistersville has a sisterly Review now and rounded up in Buffalo.
The Post, Bradford's latest Sunday experiment, owes its good looks and good
matter to Edward F. Mclntyre and George O. Sloan.
One evening in 1877 a young stranger walked into the St. Petersburg post-
office, bought a package of stationery at the book-counter and told J. M. Place
ha was looking for a situation. t Place hired him as a clerk. He had come from
the homestead farm in Orange county, N. Y., to Cornell University, worked his
way and graduated in civil-engineering. Marshall Swartzwelder lectured at
St. Petersburg on temperance and Place's clerk sat up all night to report the
masterpiece for the Derrick. It was his first production in print, a voluntary act
on his part, and the article attracted most favorable notice. Its author was at
once offered a position on the Demcx. He came in contact with oil-statistics
and his real genius asserted itself. His painstaking, conscientious reports were
accepted as strictly reliable. He would trudge over the hills, wade through
miles of mud and ford swollen streams to ascertain the precise status of an
important well, rather than approximate it from hearsay. This care and thor-
oughness gave the highest value to the statistical work of Justus C. McMullen.
In 1879 ne went to Bradford and worked on the Breeze, the Era and the Star t
always with the same devotion that was a ruling maxim of his life. In 1883 he
scouted in Warren and Forest counties and became part owner of the Petroleum
Age. Alfred L. Snell and Major W. C. Armor were associated with him in this
admirable monthly, of which he became sole proprietor on the first of December,
1887. A. C. Crum, now on the editorial staff of the Pittsburg Dispatch, con-
tributed many a newsy crumb to the Age. A newsboy at Pickwick hailed me in
front of his stand one cool morning and asked not in a Pickwickian sense if
it would be worth while to get somebody to send locals to the Derrick. "Why
THE LITERARY GUILD. 375
not do it yourself?" was my answer. He tried and he succeeded. His work
expanded and improved and he adopted journalism permanently. He catered
for Oil City and Bradford papers, spun yarns for Pittsburg dailies and was a
legislative correspondent several sessions. Snell, a statistical hummer and hard-
to-beat purveyor of news, hangs his manuscript on the Derrick hook. Armor
sponsored a historic book and laid off his armor to second Dr. Egle in the State
Library. He has a book-store in Harrisburg and a museum that distances the
"Old Curiosity Shop." McMullen established and edited the Daily Oil-News
in 1886. He died of pleurisy, contracted from exposure in collecting oil-data, on
January thirty-first, 1888, cut off at thirty-seven. The Petroleum Age did not
stay long behind its unswerving projector. Justus C. McMullen is enshrined in
the affections of the people. An unrelenting foe of oppression, he had a warm
heart for the poor and pursued his own path of right through thorns or flowers.
He married Miss Cora, daughter of Col. L. M. Morton, who lives in Bradford
and has one little girl. A brave, grand, exalted spirit passed from earth when
J. C. McMullen's light was quenched.
" On the sands of life
Sorrow treads heavily and leaves a print
Time cannot wash away."
Parker has been called " the graveyard of newspapers," yet G. A. Needle
has run his popular Phoenix twenty-three years, accumulating sufficient wealth
to own a book-store and oil-wells and let the paper canter along under charge
of his son, the youngest editor in Pennsylvania.
The Washington Reporter, established in 1892 as a daily and semi-weekly,
owes its abundant success largely to the wide-awake editor, William Christman.
His practical knowledge and ready pen keeps the Reporter right in the swim.
Fulton Phillips in 1888 launched the Outlook at
McDonald, then merely a flag-station on the Pan-
handle Railway, with no great outlook in prospect.
His editorials are efsentially independent and vig-
orous, the man dorr mating the paper. It is Fulton
Phillips, rather than the paper, who is read and
quoted by the thousands of Outlook readers. He
was born within a mile of McDonald and the boom
following oil-operations did not catch the tall editor
he is considerably above six feet napping. The
Outlook was the first to put a reporter in the field
and write up the wells in picturesque style. Phillips
served through the war, taught school at Pittsburg,
ran a paper at Canonsburg, drifted westward, did
editorial work in Missouri and California and re-
turned to start the only failure in his pilgrimage, a
temperance-organ at Washington. It went the way of former temperance-sheets
in the local-option town where they take theirs in jugs. In other portions of
the oil-world journalism holds up its end creditably, newspapers and develop-
ments marching neck and neck on their grand errand of enlightenment. The
Sistersville Review and Parkersburg Sentinel do the West-Virginia field proud,
the Toledo Journal is always primed with Ohio oil-news, nor is there a spot in
which oil plays trump that literature does not hold a royal flush. Intelligence
and petroleum are a good pair to tie to, to bet on and to rake in the jack-pot.
The Rev. S. J. M. Eaton his name is ever spoken with reverence thirty-
37 6 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL
three years pastor of the Presbyterian church at Franklin, filled a large place irt
the literary guild. He loved especially to delve into old books and papers and
letters pertaining to the pioneers oi Northwestern Pennsylvania. His faithful
labors in this neglected nook unearthed a troop
ol traditions and facts which "the world will
not willingly let die." For the "History of
Venango County" he furnished a number of
leading chapters. His published works include
"Petroleum," an epitome of oil-affairs down
to 1866, "Lakeside," a tale based upon his
father's ministerial experiences in the wilds of
Erie county, biographies of eminent divines,
sketches of the Erie Presbytery, pamphlets and
sermons. " The Holy City" and " Palestine,"
^^ .'^jp . ; JM B^J embodying his observations in the orient, were
issued as text-books by the Chautauqua Circle.
Dr. Eaton was my near neighbor for years and
hours in his well-stocked library, enriched by
-~^ ^* his "affluence of discursive talk," are recalled
with deep satisfaction. On the sixteenth of
July, 1889, while walking along the street, he raised his hands suddenly and
fell to the pavement, struck down by heart-failure. "He was not, for God
took him'* to wear the victor's crown. Farewell, ' ' until the day dawn and the
shadows flee away."
In the Franklin office of the Galena Oil-Works are three successful weavers
of rich textures in the literary loom Dr. Frank H. Johnston, E. H. Sibley and
Samuel H. Gray. Dr. Johnston was born in Canal township, reared on a farm,
severely wounded in battling for the Union, studied medicine, practiced at
Cochranton and in 1872 located at Petrolia. There " he first essayed to write "
for the Oil-City Derrick. From the very outset his articles were up to concert-
pitch. Abandoning medicine for letters, he acquired a thorough knowledge of
stenography, read the choicest books and wrote in his best vein for the press.
He represented the Derrick as its Franklin correspondent with credit to himself
and the paper. For sixteen years he has been connected with the Galena Oil-
Works as secretary of Hon. Charles Miller, a place demanding the superior
qualifications with which the doctor is unstintingly endowed.
Edwin Henry Sibley, born at Bath, N. Y., in 1857, is a brother of Hon.
Joseph C. Sibley and has resided in Franklin twenty-three years. He was
graduated from Cornell University in 1880. For several years he has been
treasurer of the Galena Oil-Works and manager of Miller & Sibley's famous
Prospect-Hill Stock-Farm, positions of responsibility to which his personal
address, his training and his business-methods adapt him pre-eminently. Three
years in succession he has been unanimously elected President of the Pennsyl-
vania Jersey-Cattle Club. He has been active and efficient in promoting the
laudable work of the University Extension Society. Under guise of ' ' Polybius
Crusoe Smith, Sage of Cranberry Cross-Roads" the Smiths are big folks since
the by-play of Pocahontas he contributes to Puck and other well-known pub-
lications humorous articles and short, quaint, pithy sayings. These display a
keen insight into human nature and rare gift of happy, accurate expression. One
of his recent effusions an address welcoming the delegates to an agricultural
convention is a bit of burlesque that deserves to rank with Artemus Ward's
THE LITERARY GUILD.
377
brightest efforts or the richest paragraphs in the Biglow Papers. A few buds
plucked at random from the flowery mead will serve to illustrate the high-class
stamp of Mr. Sibley's work in the field his genius adorns. They are literary
nosegays from his terse observations as a philosophic " looker-on in Vienna : "
" The wife that manages her husband is a genius, the one that bosses him is a tartar, the one
that fights him is a fool, while the one that does none of them is now as much out of fashion as her
grandmother's wedding-go\vr.
" The pygmies of Africa arc | 5S:: =5^
such by nature, but elsewhere
they are produced artificially
by a diet of petty and envious
thoughts."
" ' Truth is mighty and will
prevail,' but Error generally
has the better of it till the
seventy-seventh round."
" One of the greatest evils
that humanity has to contend
with is that so many icebergs
have floated down from the
North Pole and persist in pass-
ing themselves off for men."
" Former lovers in making
out their title-deeds of the
heart to their successors always
reserve at least a narrow path-
way across a corner."
" Wise men and fools have
foolish thoughts ; fools tell
them, wise men keep them to
themselves."
" Parents that haven't time
to correct their children when
they are small have time to
weep over them when they are
" Affectation (alias of De-
ceitfulness) has three picked
cronies from whom she is sel-
dom separated. Their names
are False Pride, Weakminded-
ness and Bad Temper."
" If one has too much vi-
tality in his brains he can get
rid of it by taking them out
and boiling them. If he finds
this too much bother, he can
accomplish the same result by
swallowing a few doses of a
decoction of faith-cure, spook-
lore and hynotism."
" For peace of mind and
length of days, put this inscription above the doorway of workshop and home : Troubles that
will not be worth worrying over seven years hence are not worth worrying over now.
" The ancient Israelites once worshiped a golden calf, but the modern Americans would wor-
ship a golden polecat if they couldn't get the gold in any other form to worship."
''The young man who starts out in life with character and brains and energy as his outfit
will distance the one whose sole capital is the money his father left him."
Samuel H. Gray carries under his hat plenty of the gray-matter that makes
bright writers and bright wooers of the Muses. He has been court stenogra-
pher of Venango county and holds a confidential position with the firm of Miller
378 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
& Sibley, applying his spare moments to newspaper- writing. His pictures of
petroleum-traits and incidents are finished word-paintings, with "light and
shade and color properly disposed." Like Silas Wegg, he "drops into poetry"
in a friendly way. Such papers as the New-York Truth strive for his emanations,
which savor of Bret Harte and "hold the mirror up to nature" in oleaginous
circles. Judge of this " By the Order of the Lord," founded on an actual occur-
rence in Scrubgrass township :
" It was back, if I remember, in the year of sixty-five,
When we formed a part and parcel of that rushin', busy hive
That extended from Oil City up the crooked crick until
It reached its other endin' in the town of Titusville ;
When every rock an' hillside was included in a lease,
An' everyone was huntin" fer the fortune-makin' grease ;
When a poor man pushed and elbowed 'gainst the oily millionaire,
An' ' the devil take the hindmost' seemed the all-pervadin' prayer.
" An we hed formed a pardnership, jest Tom an' Jim an' me,
That was properly recorded as the ' Tough and Hungry Three,'
An' hed gone an' leased a portion of some hard an' rocky soil
That we thought looked like the cover of a fountain filled with oil.
An' we set the drill a'goin" on its long an" greasy quest,
That meant so much or little to the capital possessed.
Our money was all in the well, in Providence our trust,
An' we waited for a fortune, or to liquidate an' bu'st.
" An' while the drill was chuggin' at its hard an' rocky way
We three would hold a meetin' at a certain time each day,
The 'resolves' an' the 'whereases' that the secretary took
Were properly recorded 'twixt the covers of a book.
An" we passed a resolution by a vote unanimous
The.t if Providence would condescend to sorter favor us,
An' assist the operations on the ' Tough and Hungry' lease,
We would give to Him a quarter of the total flow of grease.
" Next day the drill broke through into a rery oily sand
An' Providence remembered us with strong, unsparin' hand;
The oil came out with steady flow an' loaded up the tanks,
An' the Lord was due rewarded by a solid vote of thanks.
A resolution then came up thet caused the vote to split,
A sort of an amendment, readin' somethin' like, to wit
' Whereas, a tenth is all the Lord was ever known to crave,
Resolved we give it to Him ; but resolved the rest we save.'
" I fit that resolution, an' I fit it tooth an' nail,
Spoke of dangers such proceedin's was most likely to entail;
But two votes were in its favor, an' two votes it only took
Fer to have it due recorded in the resolution-book.
Next day the oil stopped flowin' an' it never flowed no more,
An' the 'Tough and Hungry' combine was a' feelin' blue an' sore.
But they nailed upon the derrick this notice, on a board,
' This well has stopped proceedin's, by the order of the Lord.' "
The late Rev. Harry L. Yewens, rector of St. John's church, was an accom-
plished writer and contributed many timely articles to the press. Rev. Dr.
Fradenburg, formerly of Oil City and Franklin, has published seven scholarly
volumes on religious subjects of vital interest.
The Bolivar Breeze, seven years old, under the able management of J. P.
Herrick is one of the most readable sheets published in any section of the coun-
try. Editor Herrick is a philosopher and wit, who looks on the bright side of
life and, better still, helps others to do likewise.
P. A. Rattigan, the very-much-alive perpetrator of the Millerstown Herald,
once received an article entitled "Why Do I Live?" It was written on both
THE LITERARY GUILD.
379
MELVILLE J. KERR.
sides of the sheet of foolscap, whereupon P. Anthony in next issue printed this
conclusive answer : " You live because you sent your dog-goned rot by mail in-
stead "of bringing it in person."
Melville J. Kerr, a Franklin boy, son of the senior proprietor of the marble-
works, is a popular writer of facetiae and society small-talk. Possibly "a rose
by any other name would smell as sweet," but his cognomen of "Joe Ker " is
known to thousands of smiling readers who never
heard of Melville. The aspiring youth, believing
in the advantages of a big city, journeyed to New
York to look for an opportunity that might want a
party about his size and style. Unlike Jacob for
Rachel, Penelope for Ulysses, the zealots who
prayed for Ingersoll's conversion or the Governor
of South Carolina for the Governor of North Caro-
lina to "fill 'em up again," he didn't wait long. A
soap-mogul liked the ambitious, sprightly young
man, introduced him to the swell set and booked
him as editor of The Club. Kerr's refined humor
popped and effervesced with more "bead" than
ever. He hobnobbed with millionaires, delighted
Ward McAlister and married a lovely girl. Blood
will tell as surely as a gossip or a tale-bearer. He
is now editing The Yellow Kid, a semi-monthly crowded with good things, and
raking in wealth at a Klondyke-gait from his newest book, " The World Over,"
a graphic and geographic burlesque that is fated to be read the world over.
And this is how the " Joe Ker" is the winning card in one oil-region instance.
Last year a compact ' ' Life of Napoleon Bonaparte, ' ' in harmony with the age
of steam and electricity that won't winnow a bushel of chaff for a grain of wheat,
which had run through the winter and spring of 1894-5 in McClure'' s Magazine,
was published in book-form. Napoleonic ground had been so plowed and
harrowed and raked and scraped and sifted by Hugo, Scott, Abbott, Hazlitt,
Bourrienne, Madame Junot and a host of smaller fry that it seemed idle to expect
anything new concerning the arbiter of Europe. Yet the beauty and freshness
and acumen of this " Life" surprised and captivated its myriad readers, whose
pleasure it increased to learn that the book was the production of a young
woman. The authoress is Miss Ida M., daughter of Franklin S. Tarbell, a
wealthy oil-operator. Her childhood was spent at Rouseville, where her parents
lived prior to occupying their present home at Titusville. The romantic sur-
roundings were calculated to awaken glowing fancies in the acute mind of the
little girl. After graduating from Allegheny College, Meadville, she taught in
the seminary at Poland, O., assisted to edit The Chautauquan at Meadville
and spent three years in Europe gathering materials for articles on the dark
days of Robespierre, Danton, Marat and Marie Antoinette. She wrote for
Scribners,' 1 McClure's and the New-England Magazine, adding to her fame by
an exhaustive study of Abraham Lincoln's youth. Scribners 1 will soon publish
her biography of Madame Roland, the heroine of the French Revolution. Her
success thus early in her career gives fruitful promise of a resplendent future for
the vivacious, winsome biographer of the " Little Corporal."
While many names and terms and phrases peculiar to oil-operations are
unintelligible to the tenderfoot as "the confusion of tongues" at Babel, others
will be valuable additions to the language. "He has the sand " aptly describes
3 8o SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
.a gritty, invincible character. The fortunate adventurer "strikes oil," the
pompous strutter is "a big gasser," foolish anger is "pumping roily" and fruit-
less enterprise is "boring in dry territory." Misdirected effort is "off the
belt, " failure "stops the drill," a lucky investment "hits the jugular," a hin-
drance "sticks the tools" and an abandoned effort "plugs the well." A man
or well that keeps at it is "a stayer," one that doesn't pan out is "a duster," one
that cuts loose is "a gusher" or "a spouter." Fair promise means "a good
show, "the owner of pipe-line certificates " has a bundle," fleeced speculators
^re " shorn lambs" not limited to Oildom by a large majority and the ruined
operator "shuts 'er down." In a moment of inspiration John P. Zane created
'"the noble producer," Lewis F. Emery invented "the downtrodden refiner"
and Samuel P. Irvin exploited "the Great Invisible Oil-Company." Some of
these epigrammatic phrases deserve to go thundering down the ages with
Grant's "let us have peace," Cleveland's "pernicious activity" and "a sucker
Is born every minute."
Nor is the jargon of places and various appliances devoid of interest to the
student of letters. Oil City, Petroleum Centre, Oleopolis, Petrolia, Greece City
first spelled G-r-e-a-s-e Gas City, Derrick City and Oil Springs were named with
direct reference to the slippery commodity. From prominent operators came
Funkville, Shamburg, Tarr Farm, Rouseville, McClintockville, Fagundas, Pren-
tice, Cochran, Karns City, Angelica, Criswell City, Gillmor, Duke Centre and
Dean City. Noted men or early settlers were remembered in Titusville, Shaffer,
Plumer, Trunkeyville, Warren, Irvineton, McKean, De Golier, Custer City,
Oarfield, Franklin, Reno, Foster, Cooperstown, Kennerdell, Milton, Foxburg,
Pickwick, Parker, Troutman, Butler, Washington, Mannington and Morgantown.
Emlenton commemorates Mrs. Emlon Fox. St. Joe recalls Joseph Oberly, a
pioneer-operator in that portion of Butler county. Standoff City kept green a
contractor who wished to " stand-off" his men's wages until he finished a well.
A deep hole or pit on the bank of the creek, from which air rushed, suggested
Pithole. Tip-Top, near Pleasantville, signified its elevated site. Cornplanter,
the township in which Oil City is situated, bears the name of the stalwart chief
six feet high and one hundred years old to whom the land was ceded for friendly
services to the government and the white settlers. This grand old warrior died
in 1836 and the Legislature erected a monument over his grave, on the Indian
Teservation near Kinzua. Venango, Tionesta, Conewago, Allegheny, Modoc
^and Kanawha smack of the copper-hued savage once monarch of the whole
plantation. Red-Hot, Hardscrabble, Bullion, Babylon, St. Petersburg, Fairview,
Antwerp, Dogtown, Turkey City and Triangle are sufficiently obvious. Sister-
A/ille, the centre of activity in West Virginia, is blamed upon twin-islets in the
Tiver. Alemagooselum is a medley as uncertain in its origin as the ingredients
of boarding-house hash. Diagrams are needed to convey a reasonable notion
of "clamps," "seed-bags," "jars," "reamers," "sockets," "centre-bits,"
"'mud-veins," "tea-heads," "conductors," "Samson-posts," "bull- wheels,"
*' band-wheels," "walking-beams," "grasshoppers," "sucker-rods," "temper-
screws," "pole-tools," "casing," "tubing," "working-barrels," ''standing-
valves," "check-valves," *' force-pumps," "loading-racks," "well-shooters,"
"'royalty," "puts," "calls," "margins," "carrying-rates," "spot," "regular,"
*' pipage," " storage, " and the thousand-and-one things that make up the past
and present of the lingo of petroleum.
The Literary Guild is not the smallest frog in the petroleum-pool.
THE WOMAN'S EDITION.
To raise twenty-five-hundred dollars for an annex to the hospital, the ladies
of Oil City, on February twelfth, 1896, issued the "Woman's Edition " of the
Derrick. It was a splendid literary and financial success, realizing nearly five-
thousand dollars. This apt poem graced the editorial page :
Oh ! sad was her brow and wild was her mien,
Her expression the blankest that ever was seen ;
She was pained, she was hurt at the plain requisition :
" We expect you to write for the Woman's Edition."
Her babies wept sadly, her husband looked blue,
Her house was disordered, each room in a stew ;
Do you ask me to tell why this sad exhibition?
She was trying to write for the Woman's Edition.
Oh, what should she write? she had nothing to say;
She pondered and thought all the long weary day ;
The question of woman, her life and her mission,
Must all be touched up in the Woman's Edition.
But what could she do oh, how could she write?
She could bake, she could brew from morning to night ;
She had even been known to get up a petition :
But now she must write for "The Woman's Edition."
She felt that she must ; her sisters all did it,
Would she fall behind ? The saints all forbid it !
If the rest of her life should be spent in contrition,
She felt she must write for the Woman's Edition.
She did it, she wrote it, now read it and ponder;
She treated a subject a little beyond her,
But that was much better than total omission
Of her name from the list on the Woman's Edition.
Now her home is restored, her husband has smiled,
But, alas ! that pleased look on his face was beguiled
By her cheerful assent to his simple condition :
That she'll not write again fora Woman's Edition.
THE GIRL AND THE EDITOR.
D. A. Denison, the lively editor of the Bradford Era, is rarely vanquished
in any sort of encounter. A " sweet-girl graduate " wrote a story and wanted
him to print it. Thinking to let her down gently, he remarked : "Your ro-
mance suits me splendidly, but it has trivial faults. For instance, you describe
the heroine's canary as drinking water by 'lapping it up eagerly with her
tongue.' Isn't that a peculiar way for a canary to drink water ? " "Your criti-
cism surprises me," said the blushing girl in a pained voice. "Still, if you
think your readers would prefer it, perhaps it would be better to let the canary
drink water with a teaspoon." Dennison wilted like an ice-cream in July,
promised to publish the story and the girl walked away mistress of the situation.
* ff>
-
J*
/VfP^l
u
WCLL PLOWING OIL AFTER TORPCDO1NG.
xvn.
NITROGLYCERINE IN THIS.
EXPLOSIVES AS AIDS TO THE PRODUCTION OF OIL THE ROBERTS TORPEDO MO-
NOPOLY AND ITS LEADERS UNPRECEDENTED LITIGATION MOONLIGHTERS
AT WORK FATALITIES FROM THE DEADLY COMPOUND PORTRAITS AND
SKETCHES OF VICTIMS MEN BLOWN TO FRAGMENTS STRANGE ESCAPES
THE LOADED PORKER STORIES TO ACCEPT OR REJECT AS IMPULSE PROMPTS.
" There is no distinguished Genius altogether exempt from some infusion of Madness." Aristotle.
" Genius must be born and never can be taught." Dry den.
" Labor with what zeal we will, something still remains undone." Longfellow.
" Come, bright improvement, on the car of Time." Campbell.
" Revenge, at first though sweet, bitter ere long, back on itself recoils." Milton.
"Only these fragments and nothing more!
Can naught to our arms the lost restore?" Anonymous.
" Death itself is less painful when it comes upon us unawares." Pascal.
" Dead ? did you say he was dead ? or is it only my brain ?
He went away an hour ago ; will he never come again?" Tamar Kermode.
" There is no armor against fate." Shirley.
" Dreadful is their doom * * * like yonder blasted bough by thunder riven." Beattie.
" By forms unseen their dirge is sung." Collins.
" Death, a necessary evil, will come when it will come." Shakespeare.
" Where is the reed on which I leant?" Tennyson.
" To-morrow is with God alone.
And man hath but to-day." Whittier.
" Who so shall telle a tale after a man moste reherse everich word." Chaucer.
HEN in 1846 a patient European
chemist hit upon a new com-
pound by mixing fuming nitric-
acid, sulphuric-acid and glyce-
rine in certain proportions, he
didn't know it was loaded. Glycerine
is a harmless substance and its very
name signifies sweetness. Combining
it with the two acids changed the three
ingredients materially. The action of
the acids caused the glycerine to lose
hydrogen and take up nitrogen and
oxygen. The product, which the dis-
coverer baptized Nitro-Glycerine, ap-
peared meek and innocent as Mary's
little lamb and was readily mistaken
for lard-oil. It burned in lamps, con-
suming quietly and emitting a gentle
light. But concussion proved the oily-
looking liquid to be a terrible explo-
NITRO-GLYCER1NE LETS GO.
sive, more powerful than gun-cotton, gunpowder or dynamite. For twenty
years it was not applied to any useful purpose in the arts. Strangely enough,
383
384 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
it was first put up as a homoeopathic remedy for headache, because a few drops
nibbed on any portion of the body pained the head acutely. James G. Elaine
was given doses of it on his death-bed. An energetic poison, fatalities re-
sulted from imbibing it for whisky, which it resembles in taste. After a time
attention was directed unexpectedly to its explosive qualities. A small con-
signment, sent to this country as a specimen, accidentally exploded in a New-
York street. This set the newspapers and the public talking about it and won-
dering what caused the stuff to go off. Investigation solved the mystery and
revealed the latent power of the compound, which had previously figured only
as a rare chemical in a half-score foreign laboratories. Miners and contractors
gradually learned its value for blasting masses of rock. Five pounds, placed
in a stone-jar and suspended against the iron-side of the steamer Scotland, sunk
off Sandy Hook, cut a fissure twelve feet long in the vessel. \ steamship at
Aspinwall was torn to atoms and people stood in mortal terror of the destruc-
tive agent. Girls threw away the glycerine prescribed for chapped lips, lest it
should burst up and distribute them piecemeal over the next county. Their
cotton-padding or charcoal-dentifrice was as dangerous as the glycerine alone,
which is an excellent application for the skin. A flame or a spark would not
explode Nitro-Glycerine readily, but the chap who struck it a hard rap might
as well avoid trouble among his heirs by having had his will written and a
cigar-box ordered to hold such fragments as his weeping relatives could pick
from the surrounding district. Such was the introduction to mankind of a com-
pound that was to fill a niche in connection with the production of petroleum.
Paraffine is the unrelenting foe of oil-wells. It clogged and choked some
of the largest wells on Oil Creek and diminished the yield of others in every
quarter of the field. It incrusts the veins of the rock and the pipes, just as lime
in the water coats the tubes of a steam-boiler or the inside of a tea-kettle. How
to overcome its ill effects was a question as serious as the extermination of the
potato-bug or the army-worm. Operators steamed their wells, often with good
results, the hot vapor melting the paraffine, and drenched them with benzine
to accomplish the same object. A genius patented a liquid that would boil and
fizz and discourage all the paraffine it touched, cleaning the tubing and the
seams in the sand much as caustic-soda scours the waste-pipe of a sink or closet.
These methods were very limited in their scope, the steam condensing, the ben-
zine mixing with the oil and the burning fluid cooling off before penetrating the
crevices in the strata any considerable distance. Exploding powder in holes
drilled at the bottom of water- wells had increased the quantity of fluid or
opened new veins and the idea of trying the experiment in oil-wells suggested
itself to various operators. In 1860 Henry H. Dennis, who drilled and stuck
the tools in the first well at Tidioute, procured three feet of two-inch copper-
pipe, plugged one end, filled it with rifle-powder, inserted a fuse-cord and ex-
ploded the charge in presence of six men. The hole was full of water, oil and
bits of rock were blown into the air and ' ' the smell of oil was so much stronger
that people coming up the hollow noticed it." The same year John F. Harper
endeavored to explode five pounds of powder in A. W. Raymond's well, at
Franklin. The tin-case holding the powder collapsed under the pressure of the
water and the fuse had gone out. William Reed assisted Raymond and W.
Ayers Brashear, who had expected James Barry he put up the first telegraph-
line between Pittsburg and Franklin to fire the charge by electricity. Reed
developed the idea and invented the "Reed Torpedo," which he used in a
number of wells. A large crowd in 1866 witnessed the torpedoing of John C.
NITRO-GL YCERINE IN THIS. 3*5
Ford's well, on the Widow Fleming farm, four miles south of Titusville. Five
pounds of powder in an earthen bottle, attached to a string of gas-pipe, were
exploded at two-hundred-and-fifty feet by dropping a red-hot iron through the
pipe. The shock threw the water out of the hole, threw out the pipe with
such force as to knock down the walking-beam and samson-post, agitated the
water in Oil Creek and "sent out oil." Tubing was put in, the old horse
worked the pump until tired out and the result encouraged Ford to buy ma-
chinery to keep the well going constantly. This was the first successful torpe-
doing of an oil-well! The Watson well, near by, was similarly treated by Har-
per, who had brought four bottles of the powder from Franklin and was devot-
ing his time to "blasting wells." For his services at the Ford well he received
twenty dollars. Harper, William Skinner and a man named Potter formed a
partnership for this purpose. They torpedoed the Adams well, on the Stack-
pole farm, below the Fleming, putting the powder in a glass-bottle. The terri-
tory was dry and no oil followed the explosion. In the fall of 1860 they shot
Gideon B. Walker's well at Tidioute. Five torpedoes were exploded in 1860
at Franklin, Tidioute and on Oil Creek. Business was disturbed over the
grave political outlook, oil was becoming too plentiful, the price was merely
nominal and the torpedo-industry languished.
William F. Kingsbury advertised in 1860 that he would "put blasts in oil-
wells to increase their production." He torpedoed a well in 1861 on the island
at Tidioute, using a can of powder and a fuse, which ignited perfectly. Mark
Wilson and L. G. Merrill lectured on electricity in 1860-61, traveling over the
country and exhibiting the principle of "Colt's Submarine Battery," by which
"the rock at any distance beneath the surface of the earth may be rent asunder,
thereby enabling the oil to flow to the well." Frederick Crocker in 1864 ar-
ranged a torpedo to be dropped into a well and fired by a pistol-cartridge in-
serted in the bottom of the tin-shell. About thirty torpedoes were exploded
from 1860 to 1865, all of them in wells filled with water, which served as tamp-
ing. Erastus Jones, James K. Jones and David Card exploded them in wells at
Liverpool, Ohio. Joseph Chandler handled two or three at Pioneer and
George Koch fired one of his own construction in May of 1864. Mr. Beardslee
he struck a vein of water by drilling a hole five feet and exploding a case of
powder at the bottom of a well in 1844, near Rochester, N. Y. came to the oil-
region and put in a score of shots in 1865. As long ago as 1808 the yield of
water in a well at Fort Regent was doubled by drilling a small hole and firing
a quantity of powder. A flowing-well on the lease beside the Crocker stopped
when the latter was torpedoed and was rigged for pumping. It pumped ' ' black
powder- water," showing that the torpedo had opened an underground con-
nection between the two wells, the effects of the explosion reaching from the
Crocker to its neighbor. William Reed made a can strong enough to resist the
pressure of the water, let it down the Criswell well on Cherry Run in 1863,
failed to discharge it by electricity and exploded it by sliding a hollow weight
down a string to strike a percussion-cap.
Notwithstanding these facts, which demonstrated that the yield of oil and
water had been increased by exploding powder hundreds of feet under water,
in November of 1864 Col. E. A. L. Roberts applied for a patent for "a process
of increasing the productiveness of oil-wells by causing an explosion of gun-
powder or its equivalent at or near the oil-bearing point, in connection with su-
perincumbent fluid- tamping." He claimed that the action of a shell at Fred-
ericksburg in 1862, which exploded in a mill-race, suggested to him the idea of
386 SKETCHES IN CRUDE OIL.
bombarding oil-wells. However this may be it has been said he was not at
Fredericksburg at the date specified in his papers the Colonel furnished no
drawings and presented no application for Letters Patent for over two years.
He constructed six of his torpedoes and arrived with them at Titusville in Jan-
uary of 1865. Captain Mills permitted him to test his process in the Ladies'
well, near Titusville, on January twenty-first. Two torpedoes were exploded
and the well flowed oil and paraffine. Reed, Harper and three or four others
filed applications for patents and commenced proceedings for interference.
The suits dragged two years, were decided in favor of Roberts and he secured
the patent that was to become a grievous monopoly.
A company was organized in New York to construct torpedoes and carry
on the business extensively. Operators were rather sceptical as to the advan-
tages of the Roberts method, fearing the missiles would shatter the rock and
destroy the wells. The Woodin well, a dry -hole on the Blood farm, received
two injections and pumped eighty barrels a day in December of 1866. During
1867 the demand increased largely and many suits for infringements were en-
tered. Roberts seemed to have the courts on his side and he obtained injunc-
tions against the Reed Torpedo-Company and James Dickey for alleged
infringements. Justices Strong and McKennan decided against Dickey in 1871.
Producers subscribed fifty-thousand dollars to break down the Roberts patent
and confidently expected a favorable issue. Judge Grier, of Philadelphia,
mulcted the Reed Company in heavy damages. Nickerson and Hamar, inge-
nious, clever fellows, fared similarly. Roberts substituted Nitro-Glycerine for
gunpowder and established a manufactory of the explosive near Titusville.
The torpedo-war became general, determined and uncompromising. The mo-
nopoly charged exorbitant prices two-hundred dollars for a medium shot
and an army of "moonlighters" nervy men who put in torpedoes at night
sprang into existence. The "moonlighters" effected great improvements and
first used the " go-devil drop-weight" in the Butler field in 1876. The Roberts
crowd hired a legion of spies to report operators who patronized the nocturnal
well-shooters. The country swarmed with these emissaries. You couldn't
spit in the street or near a well after dark without danger of hitting one of the
crew. Unexampled litigation followed. About two-thousand prosecutions
were threatened and most of them begun against producers accused of violat-
ing the law by engaging "moonlighters." The array of counsel was most
imposing. It included Bakewell & Christy, of Pittsburg, and George Harding,
of Philadelphia, for the torpedo-company. Kellar & Blake, of New York, and
General Benjamin F. Butler were retained by a number of defendants. Most
of the individual suits were settled, the annoyance of trying them in Pittsburg,
fees of lawyers and enormous costs inducing the operators to make such terms
as they could. By this means the coffers of the company were filled to over-
flowing and the Roberts Brothers rolled up millions of dollars.
The late H. Bucher Swope, the brilliant district-attorney of Pittsburg, was
especially active in behalf of Roberts. The bitter feeling engendered by con-
victions deemed unjust, awards of excessive damages and numerous imprison-
ments found expression in pointed newspaper paragraphs. Col. Roberts pre-
served in scrap-books every item regarding his business-methods, himself and
his associates. One poetical squib, written by me and printed in the Oil-City
Times, incensed him to the highest pitch and was quoted by Mr. Swope in an
argument before Judge McKennan. The old Judge bristled with fury. Evi- ,
dently he regretted that it was beyond his power to sentence somebody to the
NITRO-GLYCERINE IN THIS. 387
penitentiary for daring hint that law was not always justice. He had not
traveled quite so far on the tyrannical road as some later wearers of the ermine,
who, ' ' dressed in a little brief authority, play such fantastic tricks before high
heaven as make the angels weep" and consign workingmen to limbo for pre-
suming to present the demands of organized labor to employers ! It is not
Eugene V. Debs or the mouthing anarchist, but the overbearing corporation-
tool on the bench, who is guilty of "contempt of court."
The Roberts patent re-issued in June of 1873, perpetuating the burdensome
load upon oil-producers. In November of 1876 suit was brought in the Circuit
Court against Peter Schreiber, of Oil City, charged with infringing the Roberts
process. Schreiber 's torpedo duplicated the unpatented Crocker cartridge and
Roberts wanted his scalp. The case was contested keenly four years, coming
up for final argument in May of 1879. Henry Baldwin and James C. Boyce, of
Oil City, and Hon. J. H. Osmer, of Franklin, were the defendant's attorneys.
Mr. Boyce collected a mass of testimony that seemed overwhelming. He spent
years working up a masterly defense. By unimpeachable witnesses he proved
that explosives had been used in water-wells and oil-wells, substantially in the
manner patented by Roberts, years before the holder of the patent had been
heard of as a torpedoist. But his masterly efforts were wasted upon Justices
Strong and McKennan. They had sustained the monopoly in the previous suits
and apparently would not reverse themselves, no matter how convincing the
reasons. Mr. Schreiber, wearied by the law's interminable delays and thirty-
thousand dollars of expenditure, decided not to suffer the further annoyance of
appealing to the United-States Supreme Court. The great body of producers,
disgusted with the courts and despairing of fair-play, did not care to provide the
funds to carry the case to the highest tribunal and lock it up for years awaiting
a hearing. The flood of light thrown upon it by Boyce's researches had the
effect of preventing an extension of the patent and reducing the price of tor-
pedoes, thus benefiting the oil-region greatly. Mr. Boyce is now practicing his
profession in Pittsburg. He resided at Oil City for years and was noted for his
bright wit, his incisive logic, his profound interest in education and his social
accomplishments.
Col. Edward A. L. Roberts died at Titusville on Friday morning, March
twenty-fifth, 1881, after a short illness. His demise was quite unexpected, as
he continued in ordinary health until Tuesday night. Then he was seized with
intermittent fever, which rapidly gained ground until it proved fatal. A mo-
ment before dissolution he asked Dr. Freeman, who was with him, for a glass
of water. Drinking it and staring intently at the doctor, his eyes filled with
tears and he said, " I am gone." Pressing back upon the pillow, he expired
almost instantly. Col. Roberts was born at Moreau, Saratoga county, New
York, in 1829. At seventeen he enlisted as a private, served with commend-
able bravery in the Mexican war and was honorably discharged after a ser-
vice of two years. Returning to his native place, he entered an academy
and passed several years acquiring a higher education. Subsequently he en-
tered the dental office of his brother at Poughkeepsie, N. Y. Still later he
removed to the city and with his brother, W. B. Roberts, engaged in the manu-
facture of dental material. For his improvements in dental science and articles
he was awarded several gold-medals by the American Institute. He patented
various inventions that have been of great service and are now in general use.
In the oil-region he was best known as the owner of the torpedo-patent bear-
ing his name. He came to Titusville in January of 1865 and the same month
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
exploded two shells in the Ladies' well, increasing its yield largely. From
that time to the present the use of torpedoes has continued. The litigation
over the patent and infringements attracted widespread attention. The last
week of his life Col. Roberts said he had expended a quarter-million dollars in
torpedo-litigation. He was responsible for more lawsuits than any other man
in the United States. A man of many eccentricities and strong feelings, he was
always liberal and enterprising. He left a large fortune and one of the most
profitable monopolies in the State. In 1869 he married Mrs. Chase, separated
from her in 1877 and lived at the Brunswick Hotel. His widow and two chil-
dren survived him. Col. Roberts did much to build up Titusville and his
funeral was the largest the town has ever witnessed. He sleeps in the pretty
cemetery and a peculiar monument, emblematic of the torpedo, marks the
burial-plot.
On the palatial Hotel Brunswick, which he built and nurtured as the apple
of his eye, Col. Roberts lavished part of his wealth. He decorated and fur-
nished it gorgeously from cellar to roof. The appointments were luxurious
throughout. If the landlords he engaged could not meet expenses, the Colonel
paid the deficiency ungrudgingly and sawed wood. Finally the house was
conducted in business-style and paid handsomely. For years it has been run
by Charles J. An-
drews, who was born
with a talent for ho-
tel-keeping. "Char-
lie" is well-known in
every nook and cor-
ner of Pennsylvania
as a "jolly good fel-
low," keen politician
and all-round thor-
oughbred. He has
the rare faculty of
winning friends and
of engineering bills
through the Legisla-
ture. He is head of
the Liquor League,
a tireless worker, a
masterly joker and
brimming over with
pat-stories that do
not strike back. He operates in oil and base-ball as a diversion, is a familiar
figure in Philadelphia and Harrisburg and popular everywhere.
Dr. Walter B. Roberts, partner of his brother in the torpedo-company,
clerked in an Albany bank, taught district-school, studied medicine and rose to
eminence in dentistry. Visiting Nicaragua in 1853, he established a firm to
ship deer-skins and cattle-hides to the United States and built up a large trade
with Central America. Resuming his practice, he and E. A. L. Roberts
opened dental-rooms in New York. His brother enlisted and upon returning
from the war assigned the Doctor a half-interest in a torpedo for oil-wells he
desired to patent. In 1865 Dr. Roberts organized the Roberts Torpedo-Com-
pany, was chosen its secretary in 1866 and its president in 1867. He visited
NITROGLYCERINE IN THIS. 38^
Europe in 1867 and removed to Titus ville in 1868, residing there until his death.
In 1872 he was elected mayor, but his intense longing for a seat in Congress
was never gratified. The oil-producers, whom the vexatious torpedo-suits
made hot under the collar, opposed him resolutely. He had succeeded in his
profession and his business and his crowning ambition was to go to Washing-
ton. The arrow of political disappointment pricked his temper at times, al-
though to the last he supported the Republican party zealously. Dr. Roberts
was a man of marked characteristics, tall, stoutly built and vigorous mentally.
He did much to advance the interests of his adopted city and was respected for
his courage, his earnestness and his benevolence to the poor.
Hon. William H. Andrews managed the campaign of Dr. Roberts, who>
fancied the adroitness, pluck and push of the coming leader and used his in-
fluence to elect him chairman of the Crawford-County Republican Committee.
He performed the duties so capably that he served four terms, was secretary of
the State Committee in 1887-8 and its chairman in 1890-1. Mr. Andrews was
born in Warren county and at an early age entered upon a mercantile career.
He established large dry-goods stores at Titusville, Franklin and Meadville,
introduced modern ideas and did a tremendous
business. He advertised by the page, ran ex-
cursion-trains at suitable periods and sold his
wares at prices to attract multitudes of cus-
tomers. Nobody ever heard of dull trade or
hard times at any of the Andrews stores. Re-
moving to Cincinnati, he opened the biggest
store in the city and forced local merchants to
crawl out of the old rut and hustle. But the
aroma of petroleum, the motion of the walking-
beam, the dash and spirit of oil-region life were
lacking in Porkopolis and Andrews returned to
Titusville. He engaged in politics with the ar-
dor he had displayed in trade. His skill as an
organizer saved the Congressional district from
the Greenbackers and won him the chairman-
. . r i T-. t.1- c* /- TT WILLIAM H. ANDREWS.
ship of the Republican State-Committee. He
served two terms in the Legislature and was elected tci the Senate in 1894.
He is chairman of the senatorial committee appointed last session to " Lexow "
Philadelphia and Pittsburg. His brother, W. R. Andrews, edited the Mead-
ville Tribune and was secretary of the State Committee. Another, Charles J.
Andrews, was proprietor of the Hotel Brunswick and an active politician.
Senator Andrews rarely wastes his breath on long-winded speeches, wisely
preferring to do effective work in committee. No member of the House or
Senate is more influential, more ready to oblige his friends, more sought for
favors and surer of carrying through a bill. He enjoys the confidence of Sena
tor Quay and his next promotion may be to the United-States Senate as suc-
cessor of Matthew S. himself. Mr. Andrews lives at Allegheny, has oil-wells
on Church Run and a big farm in the suburbs of Titusville, is prominent in-
local industries and a representative citizen.
Gradually the quantity of explosive in a torpedo was increased, in order to
shatter a wider area of oil-bearing rock. A hundred quarts of Nitro-Glycerine
have been used for a single shot. In such instances it is lowered into the well
in cans, one resting upon another at the bottom of the hole until the desired
26
390 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
amount is in place. A cap is adjusted to the top of the last can, the cord that
lowered the Nitro-Glycerine is pulled up, a weight is dropped upon the cap and
-an explosion equal to the force of a ton of gunpowder ensues. In a few sec-
onds a shower of water, oil, mud and pebbles ascends, saturating the derrick
;and pelting broken stones in every direction. Frank H. Taylor graphically de-
scribes a scene at Thorn Creek :
" On October twenty-seventh, 1884, those who stood at the brick school-house and telegraph-
offices in theThorn Creek district and saw the Semple, Boyd & Armstrong No. 2 torpedoed, gazed
upon the grandest scene ever witnessed in Oildom. When the shot took effect and the barren rock,
as if smitten by the rod of Moses, poured forth its torrent of oil, it was such a magnificent and awful
spectacle that no painter's brush or poet's pen could do it justice. Men familiar with the won-
derful sights of the oil-country were struck dumb with astonishment, as they beheld the mighty
display of Nature's forces. There was no sudden reaction after the torpedo was exploded. A
column of water rose eight or ten feet and fell back again, some time elapsed before the force of
the explosion emptied the hole and the burnt glycerine, mud and sand rushed up in the derrick in
^a black stream. The blackness gradually changed to yellow; then, with a mighty roar, the gas
burst forth with a deafening noise, like the thunderbolt set free. Fora moment the cloud of gas
Ihid the derrick from sight and then, as this cleared away, a solid golden column half-a-foot in
diameter shot from the derrick-floor eighty feet through the air, till it broke in fragments on the
crown-pulley and fell in a shower of yellow rain for rods around. For over an hour that grand
column of oil, rushing swifter than any torrent and straight as a mountain pine, united derrick-
floor and top. In a few moments the ground around the derrick was covered inches deep with
/petroleum. The branches of the oak-trees were like huge yellow plumes and a stream as large as
a. man's body ran down the hill to the road. It filled the space beneath the small bridge and,
continuing down the hill through the woods beyond, spread out upon the flats where the Johnson
well is. In two hours these flats were covered with a flood of oil. The hill-side was as if a
yellow freshet had passed over it. Heavy clouds of gas, almost obscuring the derrick, hung low
:ln the woods, and still that mighty rush continued. Some of those who witnessed it estimated
'the well to be flowing five-hundred barrels per hour. Dams were built across the stream, that its
iproduction might be estimated ; the dams overflowed and were swept away before they could be
completed. People living along Thorn Creek packed up their household-goods and fled to the
hill-sides. The pump-station, a mile-and-a-half down the creek, had to extinguish its fires that
night on account of gas. All fires around the district were put out. It was literally a flood of oil.
It was estimated that the production was ten-thousand barrels the first twenty-four hours. The
(foreman, endeavoring to get the tools into the well, was overcome by the gas and fell under the
bull-wheels. He was rescued immediately and medical aid summond. He remained unconcious
two hours, but subsequently recovered fully. Several men volunteered to undertake the job of
shutting in the largest well ever struck in the oil-region. The packer for the oil-saver was tied
on the bull-wheel shaft, the tools were placed over the hole and run in. But the pressure of the
-solid stream of oil against it prevented its going lower, even with the suspended weight of the
two-thousand-pound tools. One-thousand pounds additional weight were added before the cap
was fitted and the well closed. A casing-connection and tubing-lines connected the well with a
tank."
Had the owners not torpedoed this well, which they believed to be dry, its
value would never have been known. Its conceded failure would have chilled
ambitious operators who held adjoining leases and changed the entire history
of Thorn Creek.
Torpedoing wells is a hazardous business. A professional well-shooter
must have nerves of iron, be temperate in his habits and keenly alive to the fact
that a careless movement or a misstep may send him flying into space. James
Sanders, a veteran employe of the Roberts Company, fired six-thousand tor-
pedoes without the slightest accident and lived for years after his well-earned
retirement. Nitro-Glycerine literally tears its victims into shreds. It is quick
as lightning and can't be dodged. The first fatality from its use in the oil-regions
befell William Munson, in the summer of 1867, at Reno. He operated on
Cherry Run, owning wells near the famous Reed and Wade. He was one
of the earliest producers to use torpedoes and manufactured them under the
.Reed patent. A small building at the bend of the Allegheny below Reno
NITRO-GLYCERINE IN THIS. 39 1
served as his workshop and storehouse. For months the new industry went
along quietly, its projector prospering as the result of his enterprise. Entering
the building one morning in August, he was seen no more. How it occurred
none could tell, but a frightful explosion shivered the building, tore a hole in
the ground and annihilated Munson. Houses trembled to their foundations,
dishes were thrown from the shelves, windows
were shattered and about Oil City the horrible
shock drove people frantically into the streets.
Not a trace of Munson's premises remained,
while fragments of flesh and bone strewn over
acres of ground too plainly revealed the dread-
ful fate of the proprietor. The mangled bits
were carefully gathered up, put in a small box
and sent to his former home in New York for
interment. The tragedy aroused profound sym-
pathy. Mentally, morally and physically Wil-
liam Munson was a fine specimen of manhood,
thoroughly upright and trustworthy. He lived
at Franklin and belonged to the Methodist
church. His widow and two daughters survived
the fond husband and father. Mrs. Munson first
- . - . . WILLIAM MUNSON.
moved to California, then returned eastward
and she is now practicing medicine at Toledo, the home of her daughters, the
younger of whom married Frank Gleason.
The sensation produced by the first fatality had not entirely subsided when
the second victim was added to a list that has since lengthened appallingly. To
ensure conparative safety the deadly stuff was kept in magazines located in iso-
lated places. In 1867 the Roberts Company built one of these receptacles two
miles from Titusville, in the side of a hill excavated for the purpose. Thither
Patrick Brophy, who had charge, went as usual one fine morning in July of 1868.
An hour later a terrific explosion burst upon the surrounding country with inde-
scribable violence. Horses and people on the streets of Titusville were thrown
down, chimneys tumbled, windows dropped into atoms and for a time the panic
was fearful. Then the thought suggested itself that the glycerine-magazine had
blown up. At once thousands started for the spot. The site had been con-
verted into a huge chasm, with tons of dirt scattered far and wide. Branches
of trees were lopped off as though cut by a knife and hardly a particle could
be found of what had so recently been a sentient being, instinct with life and
feeling and fondly anticipating a happy career. The unfortunate youth bore an
excellent character for sobriety and carefulness. He was a young Irishman,
had been a brakeman on the Farmers' Railroad and visited the magazine fre-
quently to make experiments.
On Church Run, two miles back of Titusville, Colonel Davison established
a torpedo-manufactory in 1868. A few months passed safely and then the trag-
edy came. With three workmen Henry Todd, A. D. Griffin and William Bills
Colonel Davison went to the factory, as was his practice, one morning in Sep-
tember. A torpedo must have burst in course of filling, causing sad destruc-
tion. The building was knocked into splinters, burying the occupants beneath
the ruins. All around the customary evidences of havoc were presented, al-
though the sheltered position of the factory prevented much damage to Titus-
ville. The mangled bodies of his companions were extricated from the wreck.
392 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
while Colonel Davison still breathed. He did not regain consciousness and
death closed the chapter during the afternoon. This dismal event produced a
deep impression, the extinction of four lives investing it with peculiar interest to
the people of Oildom, many of whom knew the victims and sincerely lamented
their mournful exit.
Dr. Fowler, the seventh victim, met his doom at Franklin in 1869. He had
erected a magazine on the hill above the Allegheny Valley depot, in which large
quantities of explosives were stored. With his brother Charles the Doctor
started for the storehouse one forenoon. At the river-bridge a friend detained
Charles for a few moments in conversation, the Doctor proceeding alone. What
happened prior to the shock will not be revealed until all secrets are laid bare,
but before Charles reached the magazine a tremendous explosion launched his
brother into eternity. A spectator first noticed the boards of the building flying
through space, followed in a moment by a report that made the earth quiver.
The nearest properties were wrecked and the jar was felt miles away. Care-
ful search for the remains of the poor Doctor resulted in a small lot of broken
bones and pieces of flesh, which were buried in the Franklin cemetery. It was
supposed that the catastrophe originated from the Doctor's boots coming in con-
tact with some glycerine that may have leaked upon the floor. This is as plau-
sible a reason as can be assigned for a tragedy that brought grief to many loving
hearts. The Doctor was a genial, kindly gentleman and his cruel fate was uni-
'versally deplored.
William A. Thompson, of Franklin, left home on Tuesday morning, Au-
gust thirteenth, 1870, carrying in his buggy a torpedo to be exploded in a well
on the Foster farm. John Quinn rode with him. At the farm he received two
old torpedoes, which had been there five or six weeks, having failed to explode,
to return to the factory. Quinn came up the
river by rail. Thompson stopped at Samuel
Graham's, Bully Hill, got an apple and lighted
a cigar. On leaving he said: "Good-bye,
Sam, perhaps you'll never see me again!"
Five minutes later an explosion was heard on
the Bully-Hill road, a mile from where Dr.
Fowler had met his doom. Graham and oth-
ers hurried to the spot. The body of Thomp-
son, horribly mutilated, was lying fifty feet
from the road, the left arm severed above the
elbow and missing. The horse and the fore-
wheels of the buggy were found a hundred
yards off, the wounded animal struggling that
distance before he fell. The body and hind-
WILLIAM A. THOMPSON. WhCelS f the ^^ ^ SP 1 ^ 5 ' <**
tire hung on a tree and a boot on another.
The main charge of the torpedo had entered the victim's left side above the hip
and the face was scarcely disfigured. Mr. Thompson was widely known and
esteemed for his social qualities and high character. He was born in Clearfield
county, came to Franklin in 1853, married in 1855 and met his shocking fate at
the age of thirty-nine. His widow and a daughter live at Franklin.
Thus far the losses of human life were occasioned by the explosion of great
quantities of the messengers of death. The next instance demonstrated the
amazing strength of Nitro-Glycerine in small parcels, a few drops ending the
NITRO-GLYCERINE IN THIS. 393
existence of a vigorous man at Scrubgrass, Venango county, in the summer of
1870. R. W. Redfield, agent of a torpedo-company, hid a can of glycerine in
the bushes, expecting to return and use it the following day. While picking
berries Mrs. George Fetterman saw the can and handed it to her husband.
Thinking it was lard-oil, which Nito-Glycerine in its fluid state resembles closely,
Fetterman poured some into a vessel and sent it to his wells. It was used as a
lubricant for several days. Noticing a heated journal one morning, Fetterman
put a little of the supposed oil on the axle, with the engine in rapid motion. A
furious explosion ensued, tearing the engine-house into splinters and partially
stunning three men at work in the derrick. Poor Fetterman was found shock-
ingly mangled, with one arm torn off and his head crushed into jelly. The
mystery was not solved for hours, when it occurred to a neighbor to test the
contents of the oil-can. Putting one drop on an anvil, he struck it a heavy blow
and was hurled to the earth by the force of the concussion. The can was a
common oiler, holding a half-pint, and probably not a dozen drops had touched
the journal before the explosion took place. Fetterman was a man of remark-
able physical power, weighing two-hundred-and-thirty pounds and looking the
picture of health and vigor. Yet a quarter-spoonful of nitro-glycerine sufficed
to usher him into the hereafter under circumstances particularly distressing.
In the fall a young man lost his life almost as singularly as Fetterman. He
attended a well at Shamburg, seven miles south of Titusville. The well was
torpedoed on a cold day. To thaw the glycerine a tub was filled with hot
\vater, into which the cans were put. When sufficiently thawed they were taken
out, the glycerine was poured into the shell and the torpedoing was done satis-
factorily. The tubing was replaced in the well and the young pumper went to
turn on the steam to start the engine, carrying a pair of tongs with him. He
threw the tongs into the tub of water. In an instant the engine-house was
demolished by a fierce explosion. The luckless youth was killed and his body
mangled. A small amount of glycerine must have leaked from the cans while
they were thawing, as the result of which a soul was hurried into the presence
of its Maker with alarming suddenness. f
In August of 1871 Charles Clarke started towards Enterprise, a small vil-
lage in Warren county, ten miles east of Titusville, with a lot of glycerine in a
vehicle drawn by one horse. The trip was destined never to be accomplished.
By the side of a high hill a piece of very rough road had to be traveled. There
the charge exploded. Likely some of the liquid had leaked over the buggy
and springs and been too much jolted. The concussion was awful. Pieces of
the woodwork and tires were carried hundreds of yards. Half of one wheel
lodged near the top of a large tree and for many rods the forest was stripped of
its foliage and branches. Part of the face, with the mustache and four teeth
adhering, was the largest portion of the driver recovered from the debris. The
horse was disemboweled and to numerous trees lots of flesh and clothing were
sticking. From the ghastly spectacle the beholders turned away shuddering.
The handful of remains was buried reverently at Titusville, crowds of people
uniting in the last tribute of respect to " Charlie," whose youth and intelligence
had made him a general favorite.
A case similar to Thompson's followed a few weeks after, near Rouseville.
Descending a steep hill on his way from torpedoing a well on the Shaw farm,
William Pine was sent out of the world unwarned. He had a torpedo-shell and
some cans of glycerine in a light wagon drawn by two horses. No doubt, the
extreme roughness of the road exploded the dangerous freight. The body of
394 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
the driver was distributed in minute fragments over two acres and the buggy
was destroyed, but the horses escaped with slight injury, probably because the
force of the shock passed above them as they were going down the hill. Pine
had a premonition of impending disaster. When leaving home he kissed his
wife affectionately and told her he intended, should he return safely, to quit the
torpedo-business forever next day. He was an industrious, competent young
man, deserving of a better fate.
In October of the same year Charles Palmer was blown to pieces at the
Roberts magazine, near Titusville, where Brophy died two years before. With
Captain West, agent of the company, he was removing cans of glycerine from
a wagon to the magazine. He handled the cans so recklessly that West warned
him to be more careful. He made thirteen trips from the wagon and entered
the magazine for the fourteenth time. Next instant the magazine disappeared
in a cloud of dust and smoke, leaving hardly a trace of man or material. West
happened to be beside the wagon and escaped unhurt. The horses galloped
furiously through Titusville, the cans not taken out bounding around in the
wagon. Why they did not explode is a mystery. Had they done so the city
would have been leveled and thousands of lives lost. Palmer paid dearly for
his carelessness, which was characteristic of the rollicking, light-hearted fellow
whose existence terminated so shockingly.
This thrilling adventure decided Captain West, who lived at Oil City, to
engage in pursuits more congenial to himself and agreeable to his devoted fam-
ily. He was finely educated, past the meridian and streaks of gray tinged his
dark hair and beard. In November he torpedoed a well for me on Cherry Run.
The shell stuck, together we drew it up, the Captain adjusted the cap and it was
then lowered and exploded successfully. At parting he shook my hand warmly
and remarked : "This is the last torpedo I shall put in for you. My engage-
ment with the company will end next week. Good-bye. Come and see me in
Oil City." Three days later he went to shoot a well at Reno, saying to his wife
at starting : " This will wind up my work for the company." Such proved to be
the fact, although in a manner very different from what the speaker imagined.
The shell was lowered into the well, but failed to explode and the Captain con-
cluded to draw it up and examine the priming. Near the surface it exploded,
instantly killing West, who was guiding the line attached to the torpedo. He
was hurled into the air, striking the walking-beam and falling upon the derrick-
floor a bruised and bleeding corpse. He had, indeed, put in his last torpedo.
The main force of the explosion was spent in the well, otherwise the body and
the derrick would have been blown to atoms. A tear from an old friend, as he
recounts the tragic close of an honorable career, is due the memory of a man
whose sterling qualities were universally admired.
Early in 1873 two young lives paid the penalty at Scrubgrass. On a bright
February morning " Doc " Wright, the torpedo-agent, stopped at the station to
send a despatch. The message sent, he invited the telegraph-operator, George
Wolfe, to ride with him to the magazine, a mile up the river. The two set out in
high spirits, two dogs following the sleigh. Hardly ten minutes elapsed when a
dreadful report terrified the settlement. From the magazine on the river-bank
a light smoke ascended. Two rods away stood the trembling horse, one eye
torn from its socket and his side lacerated. Beside him one dog lay lifeless.
Fragments of the cutter and the harness were strewn around promiscuously.
Through the bushes a clean lane was cut and a large chestnut-tree uprooted.
A deep gap alone remained of the magazine and scarcely a particle of the two
NITRO-GLYCERINE IN THIS. 395
men could be found. Dozens of splintered trees across the Allegheny indicated!
alike the force and general direction of the concussion. A boot containing part
of a human foot was picked up fifty rods from the spot. Wright's gold-watch,,
flattened and twisted, was fished out of the Allegheny, two-hundred yards down
the stream, in May. The remains, which two cigar-boxes would have held, were
interred close by. A marble shaft marks the grave, which Col. William Phillips,
then president of the Allegheny-Valley Railroad, enclosed with a neat iron-rail-
ing. It is very near the railway-track and the bank of the river, a short distance
above Kennerdell Station. The disaster was supposed to have resulted from.
Wright's using a hatchet to loosen a can of glycerine from the ice that held it
fast. A pet spaniel, which had a habit of rubbing against his legs and trying to>
jump into his arms, accompanied him from his boarding-house. The animal
may have diverted his attention momentarily, causing him to miss the ice and
strike the can. The horse lived for years, not much the worse except for the
loss of one eye. Wright and Wolfe were lively and jocular and their sad fate
was deeply regretted. Many a telegram George Wolfe sent for me when Scrub-
grass was at full tide.
One morning in April of 1873 Dennis Run, a half-mile from Tidioute, ex-
perienced a fierce explosion, which vibrated buildings, upset dishes and broke
windows long distances off. It occurred at a frame structure on the side of a
hill, occupied by Andrew Dalrymple as a dwelling and engine-house. He was
a "moonlighter," putting in torpedoes at night to avoid detection by the Rob-
erts spotters, and was probably filling a shell at the moment of the explosion.
It knocked the tenement into toothpicks and killed Dalrymple, jamming his.
head and the upper portion of the trunk against an adjacent engine-house, the
roof of which was smeared with blood and particles of flesh. One arm lay in.
the small creek four-hundred feet away, but not a vestige of the lower half of
the body could be discovered. A feeble cry from the ruins of the building sur-
prised the first persons to reach the place. Two feet beneath the rubbish a
child twenty months old was found unhurt. Farther search revealed Mrs.
Dalrymple, badly mangled and unconscious. She lingered two hours. The
little orphan, too young to understand the calamity that deprived her of both
parents, was adopted by a wealthy resident of Tidioute and grew to be a beau-
tiful girl. Thousands viewed the sad spectacle and followed the double funeral
to the cemetery. It has been my fortune to witness many sights of this descrip-
tion, but none comprised more distressing elements than the sudden summons-
of the doomed husband and wife. Mrs. Dalrymple was the only woman in the
oil-region whom Nitro-Glycerine slaughtered.
Is there a sixth sense, an indefinable impression that prompts an action,
without an apparent reason ? At Petrolia one forenoon something impelled me
to go to Tidioute, a hundred miles north, and spend the night. Rising from
breakfast at the Empire House next morning, a loud report, as though a bat-
tery of boilers had burst, hurried me to the street. Ten minutes later found
me gazing upon the Dalrymple horror. Was the cause of the impulse that
started me from Petrolia explained ? An hour sufficed to help rescue the child
from the debris, inspect the wreck, glean full particulars and board the train for
Irvineton. Writing the account for the Oil-City Derrick at my leisure, Post-
master Evans was on hand with a report of the inquest when the evening-train
reached Tidioute. The Tidioute Journal didn't like the Derrick a little bit
and the sight of a young man running from its office towards the train, with
copies of the paper not dry from the press attracted my attention. Mr.
396 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
Evans said two Titusville reporters had come over during the day. A news-
paper-man dearly relishes a " scoop " and it struck me at once that the Journal
Avas rushing the first sheets of its edition to the Titusville delegates. Squeez-
ing through the jam, A. E. Fay, of the Courier, and " Charlie" Morse, of the
Jferald, were pocketing the copies handed them by the Journal youth. Fay
laughed out loud and said : " Well, boys, I guess the Derrick 1 s left this time !"
A pat on the shoulder and my hint to " guess again" fairly paralyzed the trio.
The conductor shouted "all aboard " and the train moved off. Dropping into
the seat in front of Fay, his annoyance could not be concealed. It relieved him
to hear me tell of coming through from the north and ask why such a crowd
3iad gathered at Tidioute. He told a fairy-story of a ball-game and his own
and Morse's visit to meet a friend ! A wish for a glance at the Tidioute paper
5ie parried by answering : "It's yesterday's issue !" Fay was a good fellow
and his clumsy falsifying would have shamed Ananias. Keeping him on the
rack was rare sport. Clearly he believed me ignorant of the torpedo-accident.
The moment to undeceive him arrived. A big roll of manuscript held before
Ihis eyes, with a "scare-head" and minute details of the tragedy, prefaced the
query: "Do you still think the Derrick is badly left?" Many friends have
asked me: "In your travels through the oil-region what was the funniest
thing you ever saw?" Here is the answer: The dazed look of Fay as he
ibeneld that manuscript, turned red and white, clenched his fists, gritted his
teeth and hissed, "Damn you !"
John Osborne, a youth well-known and well-liked, in July of 1874 drove a
buckboard loaded with glycerine down Bear-Creek Valley, two miles below
Paricer. The cargo let go at a rough piece of road in a woody ravine, scatter-
ing Osborne, the horse and the vehicle over acres of tree-tops. The concus-
sion was felt three miles. Venango, Crawford, Warren and Armstrong coun-
ties had furnished nearly a score of sacrifices and Butler was to supply the next.
Alonzo Taylor, young and unmarried, went in the summer of 1875 to torpedo
a well at Troutman. The drop-weight failed to explode the percussion-cap
and Taylor drew up the shell, a process that had cost Captain West his life and
was always risky. He got it out safely and bore the torpedo to a hill to exam-
ine the priming. An instant later a frightful explosion stunned the neighbor-
hood. Taylor was not mangled beyond recognition, as the charge was giant-
ipowder instead of Nitro-Glycerine. Nor was the damage to surrounding ob-
jects very great, owing to the tendency of the powder to expend its strength
downward. This was the only torpedo-fatality of the year, the number of cas-
ualties having induced greater caution in handling explosives.
One of the first persons to reach the spot and gather the remains of Wil-
liam Pine was his friend James Barnum, who died in the same manner at St.
Petersburg eighteen months later. Barnum was the Roberts agent in Clarion
it'cl'-'
STANDARD BUILDING. 26 BROADWAY. NEW YORK.
xvm.
THE STANDARD OIL-COMPANY.
GROWTH OF A GREAT CORPORATION MISUNDERSTOOD AND MISREPRESENTED
IMPROVEMENTS IN TREATING AND TRANSPORTING PETROLEVM WHY MANY
REFINERIES COLLAPSED REAL MEANING OF THE TRUST WHAT A COMBI-
NATION OF BRAINS AND CAPITAL HAS ACCOMPLISHED MEN WHO BUILT UP
A VAST ENTERPRISE THAT HAS NO EQUAL IN THE WORLD.
" Speak of me as I am ; nothing extenuate,
Nor set down aught in malice." Shakespeare.
" Not to know me argues yourself unknown." Milton.
"The keen spirit seizes the prompt occasion." Hannah Moore.
" Genius is the faculty of growth." Coleridge.
" Success affords the means of securing additional success." Stanislaus.
*' Fortune, success, position, are never gained but by determinedly, bravely striking,
growing, living to a thing." Townsend.
" The goal of yesterday will be the starting-point of to-morrow." Voltaire.
" Where the judgment is weak the prejudice is strong." Kate O'Hara.
" Amongst the sons of men how few are known
Who dare to be just to merit not their own." Churchill.
" Censure is the tax a man pays to the public for being eminent." Dean Swift.
" As though a rose should shut and be a bud again." John Keats.
C
-OMPARED with a petroleum-sketch
which did not touch upon the Stand-
ard Oil-Company, in different re-
spects the greatest corporation the
world has ever known, Hamlet with
"the melancholy Dane ' ' left out would be
a masterpiece of completeness. Perhaps
no business-organization in this or any
other country has been more misrepre-
sented and misunderstood. To many well-
meaning persons, who would not willfully
harbor an unjust thought, it has suggested
all that is vicious, grasping and oppressive
in commercial affairs. They picture it as
a cruel monster, wearing horns and cloven-
hoofs and a forked-tail, grown rich and fat
devouring the weak and the innocent. Its motives have been impugned, its
methods condemned and its actions traduced. If a man in Oildom drilled a
dry-hole, backed the wrong horse, lost at poker, dropped money speculating,
stubbed his toe, ran an unprofitable refinery, missed a train or couldn't main-
tain champagne-style on a lager-beer income, it was the fashion for him to pose
as the victim of a gang of conspirators and curse the Standard as vigorously
and vociferously as *he fish-wife hurled invectives at Daniel O' Council.
Some folks display most wonderful agility
In their attempts to shift responsibility.
The reasons for this are as numerous as the sands of the sea. It is no new
thing to shove upon other shoulders the burden that belongs properly to our
own. In their fiery zeal to convict somebody people have been known to bark
409
JOHN D. ROCKEFELLER.
4 io SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
up the wrong tree, to charge the innocent with all sorts of offences and to get
off their base entirely. Such people and such methods did not die out with the
passing of the Salem witch-burners. The Standard was made the scape-goat
of the evil deeds alleged to have been contemplated by the unsavory South-
Improvement Company. That odious combine, which included a number of
railroad-officials, oil-operators and refiners, disbanded without producing, refin-
ing, buying, selling or transporting a gallon of petroleum. "Politics makes
strange bedfellows" and so does business. Among subscribers for South-
Improvement stock were certain holders of Standard stock and also their bit-
terest opponerits ; among those most active in giving the job its death-blow
were prominent members of the Standard Oil-Company. The projected spolia-
tion died "unwept, unhonored and unsung," but it was not a Standard scheme.
t Envy is frequently the penalty of success. Whoever fails in any pursuit
likes to blame somebody else for his misfortune. This trick is as old as thej
race. Adam started it in Eden, Eve tried to ring in the serpent and their poster-
ity take good care not to let the game get rusty from disuse ! Its aggregation
of capital renders the Standard, in the opinion of those who have ' ' fallen out-
side the breastworks," directly responsible for their inability to keep up with
the procession. Sympathizers with them deem this " confirmation strong as
proof of Holy Writ" that the Standard is an unconscionable monopoly, fos-
tered by crushing out competition. Such reasoning forgets that enterprise, en-
ergy, experience and capital are usually trump-cards. It forgets that " the race
is to the swift," the battle is to the mighty and that " Heaven is on the side with
the heaviest artillery." Carried to its logical conclusion, it means that im-
proved methods, labor-saving appliances and new processes count for nothing.
It means that the snail can travel with the antelope, that the locomotive must
wait for the stage-coach, that the fittest shall not survive. In short, it is the
double-distilled essence of absurdity.
Any advance in methods of business necessarily injures the poorest com-
petitor. Is this a reason why advances should be held back ? If so, the public
could derive no benefit from competition. The fact that a man with meagre
resources labors under a serious disadvantage is not an excuse for preventing
stronger parties from entering the field. The grand mistake is in confounding
combination with monopoly. By combination small capital can compete suc-
cessfully with large capital. Every partnership or corporation is a combination r
without which undertakings beyond individual reach would never be accom-
plished. Trunk railroads would not be built, unity of action would be de-
stroyed, mankind would segregate as savages and the trade of the world would
stagnate. Combinations should be regulated, not abolished. Rightful compe-
tition is not a fierce strife between persons to undersell each other, that the one
enduring the longest may afterwards sell higher, but that which furnishes the
public with the best products at the least cost. This is not done by selling
below cost, but by diminishing in every way possible the cost of producing,
manufacturing and transporting. The competition which does this, be it by an
individual, a firm, a corporation, a trust or a combination, is a public benefac-
tor. This kind of competition uses the best tools, discards the sickle for the
cradle and the cradle for the reaper, abandons the flail for the threshing-ma-
chine and adopts the newest ideas wherever and whenever expenses can be
lessened. To this end unrestricted combination and unrestricted competition
must go hand-in-hand. A small profit on a large volume of business is better
for the consumer than a large profit on a small business. The man who sells a
THE STANDARD OIL-COMPANY. 41 L
million dollars' worth of goods a year, at a profit of five per cent., will become
rich, while he who sells only ten-thousand dollars' worth can get a bare living.
If the builder of a business of one -hundred-thousand dollars deserve praise,
why should the builder of a business of millions be censured ? Business that
grows greater than people's limited notions should not for that cause be fet-
tered or suppressed. When business ceases to be local and has the world for
its market, capital must be supplied to meet the increasing demand and combi-
nation is as essential as fresh air. Thus large establishments take the place of
small ones and men acting in concert achieve what they would never attempt
separately. The more perfect the power of association the greater the power
of production and the larger the proportion of the product which falls to the
laborer's share. The magnitude of combinations must correspond with the
magnitude of the business to be done, in order to secure the highest skill, to
employ the latest devices, to pay the best wages, to invent new appliances, to>
improve facilities and to give the public a cheaper and finer product. This is.
as natural and legitimate as for water to run down hill or the fleet greyhound
to distance the slow tortoise.
How has the Standard affected the consumer of petroleum-products ? What
has it done for the people who use illuminating oils ? Has it advanced the price
and impaired the quality ? The early distillations of petroleum were unsatis-
factory and often dangerous. The first refineries were exceedingly primitive and
their processes simple. Much of the crude was wasted in refining, a business
not financially successful as a rule until 1872, notwithstanding the high prices
obtained. Methods of manufacture and transportation were expensive and
inadequate. The product was of poor quality, emitting smoke and unpleasant
odor and liable to explode on the slightest provocation. In 1870 a few persons,
who had previously been partners in a refinery at Cleveland, organized the
Standard Oil-Company of Ohio, with a capital of one-million dollars, increased
subsequently to three-and-a-half millions. For years the history of refining had
been mainly one of disaster and bankruptcy. A Standard Oil-Company had
been organized at Pittsburg by other persons and was doing a large trade.
The Cleveland Standard Refinery, the Pittsburg Standard Refinery, the Atlantic
Refining Company of Philadelphia and Charles Pratt & Co. of New York were
extensive concerns. Because of the hazardous nature and peculiar conditions
of the refining industry, the need of improved methods and the manifold advan-
tages of combination, they entered into an alliance for their mutual benefit.
Refineries in the oil-regions had combined before, hence the association of these
interests was not a novelty. The cost of transporation and packages had been
important factors in crippling the industry. Crude was barreled at the wells and
hauled in wagons to the railroads prior to the system of transporting it by pipes
laid under ground. Railroad-rates were excessive and irregular. Refiners
who combined and could throw a large volume of business to any particular
road secured favorable rates. The rebate-system was universal, not confined
to oil alone, and possibly this fact had much to do with the combination of
refiners afterwards known as the Standard Oil-Company.
Very naturally the Standard endeavored to secure the lowest transporta-
tion-rates. Quite as naturally railroad-managers, in their eagerness to secure
the traffic, vied with each other in offering inducements to large shippers of
petroleum. The Standard furnished, loaded and unloaded its own tank-cars,
thereby eliminating barrels and materially cheapening the freight-service. This
reduction of expense reduced the price of refined in the east to a figure which
4 i2 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
greatly increased the demand and gave oil-operations a healthy stimulus. Still
more important was the introduction of improvements in refining, which yielded
a larger percentage of illuminating-oil and converted the residue into merchant-
able products. Chemical and mechanical experts, employed by the combined
companies to conduct experiments in this direction, aided in devising processes
which revolutionized refining. The highest quality of burning-oil was obtained
and nearly every particle of crude was utilized. Substances of commercial
value took the place of the waste that formerly emptied into the streams, pol-
luting the waters and the atmosphere. In this way the cost was so lessened
that kerosene became the light of the nations. Consumers, whose dime now
will buy as much as a dollar would before the "octopus" was heard of, are
correspondingly happy.
Since consumers have fared so well, how about refiners outside the Stan-
dard ? That smaller concerns were unable to compete with the Standard under
such circumstances was no reason why the public should be deprived of the
advantages resulting from concentration of capital and effort. Many of these,
realizing that small capital is restricted to poor methods and dear production,
either sold to the Standard or entered the combination. In not a few cases
wide-awake refiners took stock for part of the price of their properties and en-
gaged with the company, adding their talents and experience to the common
fund for the benefit of all concerned. Others, not strong enough to have their
cars and provide all the latest improvements, made such changes as they could
afford to meet the requirements of the local trade, letting the larger ones attend
to distant markets. Some continued right along and they are still on deck as
independent refiners, always a respectable factor in the trade and never more
active than to-day. Those who would neither improve, nor sell, nor combine,
sitting down placidly and believing they would be bought out later on their
own terms, were soon left far behind, as they deserved to be. Let it be said
positively that the Standard, in negotiating for the purchase or combination of
refineries, treated the owners liberally and sought to keep the best men in the
business. A number who put up works to sell at exhorbitant prices, failing in
their design, howled about "monopoly" and "freezing out" and tried to pass
as martyrs. It is true hundreds of inferior refineries have been dismantled, not
because they were frozen out by a crushing monopoly, but because they lacked
requisite facilities. The refineries in vogue when the Standard was organized
could not stay in business a week, if resurrected and revived. A team of pack-
mules might as well try to compete with the New York Central Railroad as
these early refineries to meet the requirements of the petroleum-trade at its
present stage of perfection. They were "frozen out" just as stage-coaches
were "frozen out" by the iron-horse or the sailing-vessel of our grandfathers'
time by the ocean-liner that crosses the Atlantic in six days. Every labor-
saving invention and improvement in machinery throws worthy persons out of
employment, but inventions and improvements do not stop for any such cause.
Business is a question of profit and convenience, not a matter of sentiment.
The manufacturer who, by an improved process, can save a fraction of a cent
on the yard or pound or gallon of his output has an enormous advantage-
Must he be deprived of it because other manufacturers cannot produce their
wares as cheaply? Refining petroleum is no exception to the ordinary rule
and a transformation in its methods and results was as inevitable as human
progress and the changes of the seasons.
Over-production is justly chargeable with the low price of crude that
THE STANDARD OIL- COMPANY. 413
wafted many producers into bankruptcy. Regardless of the inexorable laws
of supply and demand, operators drilled in, Bradford and Butler until forty-
million barrels were above ground and the price fell to forty cents. Time and
again the wisest producers sought to stem the tide by stopping the drill, which
started with renewed energy after each brief respite. With the stocks bearing
the market the dropping of crude to a price that meant ruin to owners of small
wells was as certain as death and taxes. Gold-dollars would be as cheap as
pebbles if they were as plentiful. Forty-million barrels of diamonds stored in
South Africa would bring the glistening gems to the level of glass-beads. The
Standard, through the National-Transit Company, erected thousands of tanks
to husband the enormous surplus, which the world could not consume and
would not have on any terms. Hosts of operators were kept out of the sheriff's
grasp by this provision for their relief, using their certificates as collateral during
the period of extreme depression. The richest districts were drained at length,
consumption increased and production declined, stocks were reduced and prices
advanced. Then a number of oil-operators, foremost among whom were some
of the men whom the Standard had carried over the grave crisis, thought the
National-Transit was making too much money storing crude and tried to secure
legislation that was hardly a shade removed from confiscation. The legislature
refused to pass the bills, the company voluntarily reduced its charges and the
agitation subsided. Thousands of producers sold or entered large companies,
into whose hands a good share of the development has fallen, mainly because
of the great expense of operating in deep territory and the wisdom of dividing
the risk attendant upon seeking new fields. Operators who had to retire were
"frozen out" by excessive drilling, nothing more and nothing less !
The highest efficiency in all fields of economical endeavor is obtained by
the greatest degree of organization and specialization of effort. To attack
large concerns as monopolies, simply because they represent millions of dollars
under a single management, is as stupid and unjust as the narrow antagonism
of ill-balanced capitalists to organized labor. If organized capital means better
methods, greater facilities and improved processes, organized labor means
better wages, greater recognition and improved industrial conditions. Hence
both deserve to be encouraged and both should work in harmony. The
Standard Oil-Company established agencies in different states for the sale of its
products. As the business grew it organized corporations uuder the laws of
these states, to carry on the industry under corporate agencies. Manufactories
were located at the seaboard for the export-trade. It was easier and cheaper
to pipe crude to the coast than to refine it at the sources of supply and ship the
varied products. Thus the refining of export-oil was done at the seaboard, just
as iron is manufactured at Pittsburg instead of at the ore-beds on Lake
Superior. The company aimed to open markets for petroleum by reducing
the cost of its transportation and manufacture and bettering its quality. It
manufactured its own barrels, cans, paints, acids, glue and other materials,
effecting a vast saving. On January second, 1882, the forty persons then associ-
ated in the Standard owned the entire capital of fifteen corporations and a part
of the stock of a number of others. Nine of these forty controlled a majority
of the stocks so held, and it was agreed on that date that all the stocks of the
corporations should be placed in the hands of these nine as trustees. The trus-
tees issued certificates showing the extent of each block of stock so surrendered,
and agreed to conduct the business of the several corporations for the best
interests of all concerned. This was the inception of the Standard Oil-Trust,
414 - SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
the most abused and least understood business-organization in the history of
the race.
The Standard Trust, which demagogues lay awake nights coining language
to denounce, did not unite competing corporations. The corporations were
contributory agencies to the same business, the stock owned by the individuals
who had built up and carried on the business and held the voting power. These
individuals had combined not to repress business, but to extend it legitimately,
by allying various branches and various corporations. The organization of
the Trust was designed to facilitate the business of these corporations by uniting
them under the managment of one Board of Trustees. This object was busi-
ness-like and laudable. It had no taint of a scheme to "corner " a necessity of
life and elevate the price at the expense of the masses. On the contrary, it was
calculated to enlarge the demand and supply it at the minimum of profit. For
ten years the Standard Trust continued in existence, dissolving finally in 1892.
During this term its stockholders increased from forty to two thousand. Many
of the most skillful refiners and experienced producers joined the combination
and were retained to manage their properties. Each corporation was managed
as though independent of every other in the Trust, except that the rivalry to
show the best record stimulated them to constant improvement. Whatever
economy one devised was adopted by all. The business was most systematic
and admirably managed in every detail, running as harmoniously as the differ-
ent parts of a watch. Clerks, agents and employes who could sav.2 a few
hundred dollars purchased Trust Certificates and thus became interested in the
business and gains. If it is desirable to multiply the number who enjoy the
profits of production, how can it be done better than through ownership of
stock in industrial associations ? The problem of co-operation and profit-shar-
ing can be solved in this way. The Standard Trust was a real object-lesson in
economics, which illustrated in the fullest measure the benefits of an asso-
ciation in business that affected consumers and producers of a great staple alike
favorably.
Misrepresentation is as hard to eradicate as the Canada thistle or the
English sparrow. Once fairly set going, it travels rapidly. "A lie will travel
seven leagues while Truth is pulling on its boots." The Standard is the target
at which invidious terms and bitter invective have been hurled remorselessly,
often through downright ignorance. Although reputable editors might be mis-
led, in the hurry and strain of daily journalism, to give currency to deliberate
falsehoods against corporations or capitalists, reasonable fairness might be
expected from the author of a pretentious book. Henry D. Lloyd, of Chicago,
last year published ''Wealth Against Commonwealth," an elaborate work,
which is devoted mainly to an assault upon the Standard Oil- Company. The
book, notable for its distortion of facts and suppression of all points in favor of
the corporation it assails, caters to the worst elements of socialism. The author
views everything through anti-combination glasses and, like the child with the
bogie-man, sees the monopoly-spook in every successful aggregation of capital.
He confounds the South- Improvement Company with the Standard and charges
to the latter all the offenses supposed to lie at the door of the organization that
died at its birth. One thrilling story is cited to show that the Standard robbed
a poor widow. The narrative is well calculated to arouse public resentment
and encourage a lynching-bee. It has been repeated times without number.
Within the past month two Harrisburg ministers have referred to it as a start-
ling evidence of the unscrupulous tyranny of the Standard millionaires. To
THE STANDARD OIL-COMPANY. 4*5
make the case imposing Mr. Lloyd informs mankind that the husband of this
widow had been "a prominent member of the Presbyterian church, president
of a Young Men's Christian Association and active in all religious and benevo-
lent enterprises." After his death she continued the business until she was
finally coerced into selling it to the Trust at a ruinously low price a mere frac-
tion of its actual value. Mr. Lloyd states her hopeless despair as follows :
" Indignant with these thoughts and the massacred troop of hopes and ambitions that her
brave heart had given birth to, she threw the letter a letter she had received from the Standard
regarding the sale of her property into the fire, where it curled up into flames like those from
which a Dives once begged for a drop of water. She never reappeared in the world of busi-
ness, where she had found no chivalry to help a woman save her home, her husband's life-work
and her children."
Is this harrowing statement true ? The widow continued the business four
years after her husband's death. Competition increased, prices tumbled, the
margin of profit was constantly narrowing, new appliances simplified refin-
ing-processes and the widow's plant was no longer adapted to the business.
She sold for sixty-thousand dollars, the Standard paying twice the sum for
which a refinery better suited to the purpose could be constructed. Foolish
friends afterwards told her she had sold too low and the widow wrote a severe
letter to the president of the Standard. The company had bought the property
to oblige her and at once offered it back. She declined to take it, or sixty-
thousand dollars in Standard stock, evidently realizing that the refinery had lost
its profit-earning capacity and that even the new management might not be able
to make it pay. This will serve to illustrate the unfairness of "Wealth Against
Commonwealth," which has been widely quoted because of its presumed relia-
bility and the high standing of the publishers. Yet this story of imaginary
wrong has been worked into speeches, sermons and editorials of the fiercest
type ! In its treatment of the widow the Standard was truly magnanimous.
Few business-men would consent to undo a transaction and have their labor
for naught, simply because the other party had become dissatisfied. Possibly
Mr. Lloyd would not be as generous if there was any profit in the transaction.
If the Standard cut prices to ruin the widow and other competitors, would not
oil have gone up again when they were disposed of? No such upward move-
ment occurred. The widow disappeared. Many small refineries disappeared.
Monopoly railroad-contracts, if such ever existed, have disappeared, but the
price of refined-oil has been falling steadily for twenty years, declining from an
average of nineteen cents a gallon in 1876 to five cents in 1895. The potent
fact in this connection is that the Standard has continued to make profits with
the declining price of oil. This conclusively demonstrates that the decline was
due to economic improvements in the productive methods and not to a mali-
cious cut to ruin a widow or anybody else, as Mr. Lloyd assumes. Otherwise
a profit accompanying the fall in price would have been impossible and the
Standard would have been sold out by the sheriff long years ago.
All the dealers in slander from Lloyd down to the chronic kicker who has
attempted to make money by annoying the Standard have played the Rice case
as a trump-card. According to their version, Mr. Rice was an angelic Ver-
monter, whose success inspired the Standard with devilish enmity and it deter-
mined to compass his ruin. Rice had operated at Pithole and at Macksburg
and owned a small refinery at Marietta. It was alleged that the Cleveland &
Marietta Railroad discriminated against him, doubling his freight-charge and
giving the Standard a drawback on all the oil that went over the road. This
was an iniquitous arrangement, entered into by the receiver of the road and
4i 6 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
cancelled by the Standard whenever a report of what was done reached New
York. Mr. Rice had paid two-hundred-and-fifty dollars wrongfully, the money
was at once refunded and Mr. Rice did not harass the company into buying his
twenty-thousand dollar refinery for half a million. This will serve as an example
of the dishonest misstatements that had wrought lots of good people up to white
heat. The sins of the trusts may be very scarlet and very numerous, but eco-
nomic literature should not pollute the sources of information and the founda-
tions of public opinion.
An oft-repeated story is that the Standard owes its success to railway-
discriminations. In proof of this the testimony of A. J. Cassatt is quoted. The
testimony, published in a congressional investigation-report, shows that grant-
ing rebates was then the custom of railway-companies. Largely the same
rebates were granted to all who shipped over the railways. Special to the
Standard was payment of a joint freight-rate over pipe-line and railroad. A
large rebate was given for one summer to all shippers by rail to equalize low
rates by canal, of which many shippers took advantage. The only discrimina-
tory rebate received by the Standard was ten per cent, for equalizing its large
shipments over three trunk-lines, shipping exclusively by rail, even when water-
rates were cheaper, furnishing terminal facilities and exempting the roads from
loss by fire or accident. Courts in England and this country have very properly
held that railways have the right to carry for less rates under such circumstances.
Many wise men are of the same opinion. Subsequently it was developed that,
while the short-lived agreement existed, the Standard's strongest competitors
were getting lower rates of freight than it was paying ! Why do the Lloyd
brand of critics ignore this pointed fact?
Another favorite story is that some officers of the Standard were convicted
of burning a rival refinery. As all know who ever took the trouble to investi-
gate, they were indicted for conspiracy to injure a rival. The counts in the
indictment embraced the enticing away of an employe, the bringing of suits to
prevent infringement of patents and the serious charge of inciting an employe"
to burn the works. When all the evidence on the part of the State was in, the
court directed the discharge of every person connected with the Standard
There was not a scintilla of evidence against them. Two of the indicted persons
were convicted of conspiracy, but they were not connected with the Standard,
and never owned a share of Standard stock. The majority of the jurymen made
affidavits that they found the convicted persons guilty only of enticing away an
employe". The employe thus enticed had first been enticed from the works of
the convicted parties and induced to reveal the secret processes by which a
valuable lubricating-oil was manufactured. The best citizens of Rochester
certified that the men convicted were men of unimpeachable honor, while the
men who testified against them were quite the reverse. The whole affair was a
wicked plot to blacken the character of men who stood and who still stand as
high as any in Rochester. The court, satisfied of their innocence of any grave
offence, inflicted merely a nominal fine.
Many of the attacks in a well-known work by a leading socialist against the
Standard are made up of court-cases. The accusations are copied, the moving
speeches of plaintiffs' attorneys are printed ; but all else is omitted, except that
the case was decided in favor of the Standard. The inference is left to be
drawn, or the charge is made openly, that the court was corrupt. Had the
evidence of both sides been given, there would be no more room for such an
inference than for a pretty maiden's small brother in the parlor when her best
THE STANDARD OIL- COMPANY. 417
young man is about to pop the momentous question. The rustic divine, weak
in his spelling and strong in his opposition to the feminine style of coiling the
hair in a huge knot, had better grounds for declaring the Scripture endorsed
his view of the fashion. Reading the familiar passage, ' ' let him that is on the
housetop not come down to take anything out of his house," he based his ter-
rific sermon on this dismembered clause of the verse : "Top not, come down."
One instance may be noted briefly. A Pennsylvania office-holder, whose
unworthy motives an investigation exposed, charged that the Standard had
defrauded the State of millions of taxes. The case was ably tried before an
upright judge and the allegation found to be utterly baseless. Then the judge
was charged with corruption. The case was taken to the highest court of the
State, which affirmed the decision of the court below. At once the Supreme
Court and the Attorney-General, who conducted the case for the State with signal
ability, were accused of rank corruption. Perhaps the greatest surprise is that
they were not charged with an attempt to get even with Moses by breaking all
the commandments at one lick. An investigation committee, appointed by the
Legislature, went fully into all the facts and allegations and reported that the
case had been ably and fairly tried and correctly decided. It only remained to
charge the legislative committee with corruption, which was done with great
promptitude and emphasis. Yet every lawyer knows that the case of Pennsyl-
vania against the Standard Oil-Company is a leading case on the subject of taxa-
tion of foreign corporations, establishing correct principles which, since its
decision, the Supreme Court of the United States has affirmed.
In another case a respectable old man conceived the idea that he had
solved the problem of continuous distillation of oil, an invention which would
very much cheapen the product and be worth millions to refiners. The Stand-
ard aided him in his experiments until convinced they were unsuccessful. He
became crazed on the subject and brought suit, alleging he had been prevented
from demonstrating his discovery. The case was tried and the baseless suit
dismissed, with as little injury to the poor man's feelings as possible. This
incident figures in histories written to fire the popular heart in the war against
wealth, accompanied by pictures of a soulless corporation and an insane old
man, calculated to draw hot tears and inflame public indignation to a dan-
gerous pitch. Of course the readers are supposed to infer that the court was
corrupted and justice grossly outraged. And so the changes are rung along the
whole line ; but the Standard, regardless of malevolent assaults and villainous
distortions of facts, goes right on with its business of furnishing the world with
the best light in the universe.
Russian competition, the extent and danger of which most people do not
begin to appreciate, was met and overcome by sheer tenacity and superior gen-
eralship. The advantages of capable, courageous, intelligent concentration of
the varied branches of a great industry were never manifested more strongly.
Deprived of the invincible bulwark the Standard offered, the oil-producers f
Pennsylvania, New York, West Virginia, Ohio and Indiana would have been
utterly helpless. The Muscovite bear would have gobbled the trade of Europe
and Asia, driving American oil from the foreign markets. Local consumption
would not have exhausted two-thirds of the production, stocks of crude would
have piled up and the price would have fallen proportionately. Instead of rank-
ing with the busiest, happiest and most prosperous quarters of the universe, as
they are to-day, the oil-regions of five states would have been irretrievably
ruined, dragging down thousands of the brightest, manliest, cleverest fellows
4 i8 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL
on God's footstool ! Instead of bringing a vast amount of gold from England,
France and Germany for petroleum produced on American soil, refined by Amer-
ican workmen paid American wages and exported by an American company in
American vessels, the trade would have been killed, the cash would have stayed
across the waters and the country at large would have suffered incalculably !
These are things to think of when some cheap agitator, with a private axe to
grind, a mean spite to gratify or a selfish object to attain, raises a howl about
monopoly and insists that the entire creation should "damn the Standard !"
When the history of this wonderful century is written it will tell how an
American boy, born in New York sixty years ago, clerked in a country-
store, kept a set of books, started a small oil-refinery at Cleveland and at forty
was the head of the greatest business in the world. This is, in outline, the
story of John D. Rockefeller's successful career. Yesterday, as it were, a
youth with nothing but integrity, industry and ambition for capital a pretty
good outfit, too to-day he is one of the half-dozen richest men in Europe or
America. Better than all else, integrity that is part and parcel of his moral
nature, industry that finds life too fruitful to waste it idly and ambition to excel
in good deeds as well as in business are his rich possession still. Gathering the
largest fortune ever accumulated in twenty-five years has not blunted his fine
sensibilities, dwarfed his intellectual growth, stifled his religious convictions or
absorbed his whole being. Increasing wealth brought with it a deep sense of
increasing responsibility and he is honored not so much for his millions as for
the use he makes of them. Even in an age unrivalled for money-getting and
money-giving, Mr. Rockefeller's keen foresight, executive ability and wise liber-
ality have been notably conspicuous. His faith in the future of petroleum and
his desire to benefit humanity he has shown by his works. Believing in the
power of united effort to develop an infant-industry, his genius devised the
system of practical co-operation that developed into the Standard Oil-Trust,
against which prejudice and ignorance have directed their fiercest fire. Believ-
ing in education, his magnificent endowment of Chicago University eight to
ten-million dollars ranks him with the foremost contributors to the foundation
of a seat of learning since schools and colleges began. Believing in fresh air
for the masses, he donated Cleveland a public park and a million to equip it
superbly. Believing in spiritual progress, he builds churches, helps weak con-
gregations and aids in spreading the gospel everywhere. Believing in the
claims of the poor, his charities amount to hundreds-of-thousands of dollars
yearly, not to encourage pauperism and dependence, but to relieve genuine dis-
tress, diminish human suffering and put struggling men and women in the way
to improve their condition. He has differed from nearly all other eminent pub-
lic benefactors by giving freely, quietly and modestly during his active life,
without seeking the popular applause his munificence could easily obtain.
Mr. Rockefeller is a strict Baptist, a regular attendant at church and prayer-
meeting, a teacher in the Sunday-school and a staunch advocate of aggressive
Christianity. His advancement to commanding wealth has not changed his
ideas of duty and personal obligation. He realizes that the man who lives for
himself alone is always little, no matter how big his bank-account. He and
his family walk to service or ride in a street-car, with none of the trappings
befitting the worship of Mammon rather than the glory of God. Earnest, posi-
tive and vigorous in his religion as in his business, he takes no stock in the
dealer who has not stamina or the profession of faith that is too destitute of
backbone to have a denominational preference. The president of the Stand-
THE STANDARD OIL-COMPANY. 4^9
.ard Oil-Company impresses all who meet hfm with the idea of a forceful,
decisive character. He looks people in the face, his eyes sparkle in conversa-
tion and he relishes a bright story or a clever narration. You feel that he can
read you at a glance and that deception and evasion in his presence would be
utterly futile. The flatterer and sycophant would make as little headway with
him as the bunco-steerer or the green-goods vendor. His estimate of men is
rarely at fault and to this quality some measure of the Standard's success must
be attributed. As if by instinct, its chief officer picked out men adapted to
special lines of work men who would not be misfits and secured them for his
company. The capacity and fidelity of the Standard corps are proverbial.
Whenever Mr. Rockefeller wishes to enjoy a breathing-spell at his country-seat
up the Hudson or on his Ohio farm, he leaves the business with perfect confi-
dence, because his lieutenants are competent and trustworthy and the machine
will run along smoothly under their watchful care. He has not accumulated
his money by wrecking property, but by building up, by persistent improvement
and by rigidly adhering to the policy of furnishing the best articles at the lowest
price. Fair-minded people are beginning to understand something of the ser-
vice rendered the public by the man who stands at the head of the petroleum-
industry and more than any other is the founder of its commerce. He has
invested in factories, railroads and mines, giving thousands employment,
developing the resources of the country and adding to the wealth of the nation.
He is human, therefore he sometimes errs ; he is fallible, therefore he makes
mistakes, but the world is learning that John D. Rockefeller has no superior in
business and that the Standard Oil-Company is not an organized conspiracy to
plunder producers or consumers of petroleum. It is time to dismiss the idea
that ability to build up and maintain a large business is discreditable, that mar-
vellous success is blameworthy and that business - achievements imply dis-
honesty.
William Rockefeller, who resembles his brother in business skill, is a
leader in Standard affairs and has his office in the Broadway building. He
was a member of the first Board of Trustees and bore a prominent part in
organizing and developing the Oil-Trust. He is largely interested in railroads,
belongs to the best clubs, likes good horses and contributes liberally to
worthy objects. The Standard folks don't lock up their money, loan it on
mortgages at extravagant rates, spend it in Europe or try to get a gold squeeze
on the government. They employ it in manufactures, in railways, in com-
merce and in enterprises that promote the general welfare.
From the days of the little refinery in Cleveland, the germ of the Standard,
Henry M. Flagler and John D. Rockefeller have been closely associated in oil.
Samuel Andrews, a practical refiner and for some time their partner, retired
from the firm with a million dollars as his share of the business. The organi-
zation of the Standard Oil-Company of Cleveland was the first step towards
the greater Standard Oil-Company of which all the world knows something.
Its growth surprised even the projectors of the combination, who ' ' builded
better than they knew." Mr. Flagler devotes his time largely to beneficent
uses of his great wealth. He recognizes the duty of the possessor of property
to keep it from waste, to render it productive and to increase it by proper
methods. A vast tract of Florida swamp, yielding only malaria and shakes,
he has converted into a region suited to human-beings, producing cotton, sugar
and tropical fruits and affording comfortable subsistence to thousands of prov-
ident settlers. He has transformed St. Augustine from a faded antiquity into
420 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
a modern town, with the magnificent Ponce de Leon Hotel, paved streets, ele-
gant churches, public halls, and all conveniences, provided by this generous
benefactor at a cost of many millions. He has constructed new railroads,
improved lines built previously, opened interior counties to thrifty emigrants
and performed a work of incalculable advantage to the New South. He and
his family attend the West Presbyterian Church, of which the Rev. John R.
Paxton, formerly of Harrisburg, was pastor until 1894. Mr. Flagler is of aver-
age height, slight build and erect figure. His hair is white, but time has not
dealt harshly with the liberal citizen whose career presents so much to praise
and emulate.
John D. Archbold, vice-president of the Standard Oil-Company and its
youngest trustee during the entire existence of the Oil-Trust, has been actively
connected with petroleum from his youth. No man is better known and better
' liked personally in the oil- regions. From
his father, a zealous Methodist minister, and
his good mother, one of the noble women to
whom this country owes an infinite debt of
gratitude, he inherited the qualities of head
and heart that achieved success and gained
multitudes of friends. A mere lad when the
reports of golden opportunities attracted
him from Ohio to the land of petroleum, he
first engaged as a shipping-clerk for a Titus-
ville refinery. His promptness, accuracy,
! and pleasant address won him favor and
I promotion. He soon learned the whole art
of refining and his active mind discovered
remedies for a number of defects. Adnah
JOHN D. ARCHBOLD. Neyhait induced him to take charge of his
warehouse in New York City for the sale of
refined-oil. His energy and rare tact increased the trade of the establishment
steadily. Mr. Rockefeller met the bright young man and offered him a respon-
sible position with the Standard. He was made president of the Acme Refin-
ing Company, then among the largest in the United States. He improved the
quality of its products and was entrusted with the negotiations that brought
many refiners into the combination. He had resided at Titusville, where he
married the daughter of Major Mills, and was the principal representative of
the Standard in the producing section. When the Trust was organized he
removed to New York and supervised especially the refining-interest of the
united corporations. His splendid executive talent, keen perception, tireless
energy and honorable manliness were simply invaluable. Mr. Archbold is
popular in society, has an ideal home, represents the Standard in the directory
of different companies and merits the high esteem ungrudingly bestowed by
his associates in business and his acquaintances everywhere.
The personal traits and business-successes of Charles Pratt, an original
member of the Standard Trust, were typical of American civilization. The son
of poor parents in Massachusetts, where he was born in 1830, necessity com-
pelled him to leave home at the early age of ten and seek work on a farm. He
toiled three years for his board and a short term at school each winter. For
his board and clothes he next worked in a Boston grocery. His first dollar in
money, of which he always spoke with pride as having been made at the work-
THE STANDARD OIL- COMPANY. 421
bench, he earned while learning the machinist-trade at Newton, in his native
state. With the savings of his first year in the machine-shop he entered an
academy, studying diligently twelve months and subsisting on a dollar a week.
Then he entered a Boston paints-and-oil , .. _ ,
store, devoting his leisure hours to study and
self-improvement. Coming to New York in
1851, he clerked in Appleton's publishing-
house and later in a paint-store. In 1854 he
joined C. T. Reynolds and F. W. Devoe in a
paints-and-oil establishment. Petroleum re-
fining became important and the partners
separated in 1867, Reynolds controlling the
paints-department and Charles Pratt & Co.
conducting the oil-branch of the business.
The success of the latter firm as oil-refiners
was extraordinary. Astral-oil was in de-
mand everywhere. The works at Brooklyn,
continuous and surprising as was their ex-
pansion, found it difficult to keep pace with CHARLES PRATT.
the consumption. The firm entered into
the association with the Cleveland, Pittsburg and Philadelphia companies that
culminated in the Standard Oil-Trust, Mr. Pratt holding the relation of presi-
dent of the Charles-Pratt Manufacturing Company. He lived in Brooklyn and
died suddenly at sixty-three, an attack of heart-disease that prostrated him in
his New- York office proving fatal in three hours. For thirty years he devoted
much of his time to the philanthropies with which his name will be perpetually
identified. He built and equipped Pratt Institute, a school of manual arts, at a
cost of two-million dollars. He spent a half-million to erect the Astral Apart-
ment Buildings, the revenue of which is secured to the Institute as part of its
endowment. He devoted a half-million to the Adelphia Academy and a quar-
ter-million towards the new edifice of Emanuel Baptist Church, of which he
was a devout, generous member. His home-life was marked by gentleness
and affection and he left his family an estate of fifteen to twenty-millions.
Charles Pratt was a man of few words, alert, positive and unassuming, some-
times blunt in business, but always courteous, trustworthy and deservedly
esteemed for liberality and energy.
Jabez A. Bostwick, a member of the Standard Trust from its inception,
was born in New York State, spent his babyhood in Ohio, whither the family
moved when he was ten years old, and died at sixty-two. His business-educa-
tion began as clerk in a bank at Covington, Ky. There he first came into pub-
lic notice as a cotton-broker, removing to New York in 1864 to conduct the
same business on a larger scale. He secured interests in territory and oil-wells
at Franklin in 1860, organized the firm of J. A. Bostwick & Co. and engaged
extensively in refining. The firm prospered, bought immense quantities of
crude and increased its refining capacity extensively. Mr. Bostwick was active
in forming the Standard Oil-Trust and was its first treasurer. He severed his
connection with his oil-partner, W. H. Tilford, who also entered the Standard
Oil-Company. Seven years before his death he retired from the oil-business to
accept the presidency of the New York & New England Railroad. He held the
position six years and was succeeded by Austin Corbin. Injuries during a fire
at his country-seat in Mamaroneck caused his death. The fire started in Fred-
26
422 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
erick A. Constable's stables, in rear of Mr. Bostwick's. Unknown to his coach-
man, who was pushing behind it, Mr. Bostwick seized the whiffletrees of a car-
riage. Suddenly the vehicle swerved and the owner was violently jammed
against the side of the stable. The coachman saw his peril and pulled the car-
riage back. Mr. Bostwick reeled forward, his face white with pain and sank
moaning upon a buckboard. " Don't leave me, Mr. Williams," he whispered
to his son's tutor, " I fear I am badly hurt." The sufferer was carried to the
house, became unconscious and died in ten minutes, surrounded by members
of his household and his neighbors. In 1866 Mr. Bostwick married a daughter
of Ford Smith, a retired Cincinnati merchant, who removed to New York dur-
ing the war. They had a son and two daughters. The daughters married and
were in Europe when their father met his tragic fate. The widow and children
inherited an estate of twelve millions. Mr. Bostwick was liberal with his
wealth, giving largely without ostentation. Forrest College, in North Carolina,
and the Fifth Avenue Baptist Church of New York were special recipients of his
bounty, while his private benefactions amounted to many thousands yearly.
He was strict almost to sternness in his dealings, preferring justice to sentiment
in business.
These were the six trustees of the Standard Oil-Trust as first constituted of
whom the world has heard and read most. Many of the two-thousand stock-
holders of the Standard Oil-Company are widely known. Benjamin Brewster,
" president of the National-Transit Company, retired with an ample fortune. His
successor, H. H. Rogers, the present head of the pipe-line system, is noted
alike for business-sagacity and sensible benefactions. The great structure at
No. 26 Broadway, the largest office-building in New York occupied by one
concern, is the Standard headquarters. Each floor has one or more depart-
ments, managed by competent men and all under supervision of the company's
chief officials. From the basement, with its massive vaults and steam-heating
plant, to the roof every inch is utilized by hundreds of book-keepers, account-
.ants, stenographers, telegraphers, clerks and heads of divisions. Everything
-moves v/ith the utmost precision and smoothness. President Rockefeller has
-his private offices on the eighth floor, next the spacious room in which the
Executive Committee meets every day at noon for consultation. Mr. Flagler,
Mr. Archbold and Mr. Rogers are located conveniently. The substantial char-
acter of the building and the business-like aspect of the departments impress
visitors most favorably. There is an utter absence of gingerbread and cheap
ornamentation, of confusion and perplexing hurry. The very air, the clicking
of the telegraph-instruments, the noiseless motion of the elevators and the
prompt dispatch of business indicate solidity, intelligence and perfect system.
From that building the movements of a force of employes, numbering twice
the United States army and scattered over both hemispheres, are directed.
The sails of the Standard fleet whiten every sea, its products are marketed
wherever men have learned the value of artificial light and its name is a uni-
versal synonym for the highest development of commercial enterprise in any
age or country.
Business-men recall with a shudder the frightful stringency in 1893. All over
the land industries drooped and withered and died. Raw material, even wool
itself, had no market. Commerce languished, wages dwindled, railroads col-
lapsed, factories suspended, and myriads of workmen lost their jobs. Merchants
cut down expenses to the lowest notch, loans were called in at a terrible sacri-
fice, debts were compromised at ten to fifty cents on the dollar, the present was
THE STANDARD OIL-COMPANY.
423
dark and the future gloomy. The balance of trade was heavily against the
United States. Government securities tumbled and a steady drain of gold to
Europe set in. The efforts of Congress, the Treasury Department and syndi-
cates of bankers to stem the tide of disaster were on a par with Mrs. Partington's
attempt to sweep back the ocean with a sixpenny-broom. Amid the general
demoralization, when the nation seemed hastening to positive ruin, one splendid
enterprise alone extended its business, multiplied its resources and was largely
instrumental in restoring public confidence.
The Standard Oil-Company, unrivalled in its equipment of brains and skill
and capital, not merely breasted the storm successfully, but did more than all
other agencies combined to avert widespread bankruptcy. Through the sagacity
and foresight of this great corporation crude oil advanced fifty per cent. , thereby
doubling and trebling the prosperity of the producing sections, without a corres-
ponding rise in refined. By this wise policy, which only men of nerve and genius
could have carried out, home consumers were not taxed to benefit the oil-regions
and the exports of petroleum-products swelled enormously. As the result,
while the American demand increased constantly, millions upon millions of
dollars flowed in from abroad, materially diminishing the European drainage of
the yellow metal from this side of the Atlantic. The salutary, far-reaching ef-
fects of such management, by reviving fafth and stimulating the flagging energies
of the country, exerted an influence upon the common welfare words and figures
cannot estimate. Petroleum preserved the thread of golden traffic with foreign
nations.
Hon. Samuel C. T. Dodd, one of the ablest lawyers Pennsylvania has pro-
duced, is general solicitor of the Standard and resides in New York. His father,
the venerable Levi Dodd, established the first Sunday-school and was presi-
dent of the second company that bored for oil at Franklin, the birthplace of
his son in 1836. Young Samuel learned printing, graduated from Jefferson
College in 1857, studied law with James K. Kerr and was admitted to the Ve-
nango Bar in August of 1859. His brilliant talents, conscientious application
and legal acquirements quickly won him a leading place among the successful
jurists of the state. During a practice of
nearly twenty-two years in the courts of the
district and commonwealth he stood in the
front rank of his profession. He served with
credit in the Constitutional Convention of
1873, framing some of its most important pro-
visions. He traveled abroad and wrote de-
scriptions of foreign lands so charming they
might have come from Washington Irving
and N. P. Willis. His selection by the Stan-
dard Oil-Trust in 1881 as its general solicitor
was a marked recognition of his superior abil-
ities. The position, one of the most promi-
nent and responsible to which a lawyer can
attain, demanded exceptional qualifications.
How capably it has been filled the records of
all legal matters concerning the Standard
abundantly demonstrate. Mr. Dodd's profound knowledge of corporation-law,
eminent sense of justice, forensic skill, rare tact and clear brain have steered
the great company safely and honorably through many suits involving grave
CT'
SAMUKL C. T L>OL1J.
424
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
questions of right and millions of money. The papers he prepared organizing
the Standard Trust have been the models for all such documents since they
left his desk. Terse logic, sound reasoning, pointed analysis and apposite ex-
pression distinguish his legal opinions and arguments, combining the vigor of a
Damascus blade with the beauty of an epic. He is a delightful conversation-
alist, sincere friend and prudent counsellor, kindly, affable and thorougly up-
right. His home, brightened by a loving wife and devoted family, is singularly
happy. Amid the cares and anxieties incident to professional life he has cul-
tivated his fine literary-taste, writing magazine-articles and wooing the muses
at intervals of leisure only too far apart. He has the honor of writing the first
poem on petroleum that ever appeared in print. It was a rich parody on By-
ron's " Isles of Greece" and was published in the spring of 1860, as follows :
The land of Grease ! the land of Grease !
Where burning Oil is loved and sung ;
Where flourish arts of sale and lease,
Where Rouseville rose and Tarville sprung ;
Eternal summer gilds them not,
But oil-wells render dear, each spot.
The ceaseless tap, tap of the tools,
The engine's puff, the pump's dull squeak,
The horsemen splashing through the pools
Of greasy mud along the Creek,
Are sounds which cannot be suppress'd
In these dear He-lands of the Bless'd.
Deep in the vale of Cherry Run
The Humboldt Works I went to see,
And sitting there an oil-cask on
I found that Grease was not yet free ;
For busily a dirty carl
Was branding " bonded " on each barrel.
I sat upon the rocky brow
Which o'erlooks Franklin far-famed town
A hundred derricks stood below
And many a well of great renown;
I counted them at break of day,
And when the sun set where were they ?
They were still there. But where art thou,
My dry-hole? On the river-shore
The engine stands all idle now,
The heavy auger beats no more ;
And must a well of so great cost
Be given up and wholly lost ?
'Tis awful when you bore a well
Down in the earth six-hundred feet,
To find that not a single smell
Comes up your anxious nose to greet
For what is left the bored one here ?
For Grease a wish ; for Grease a tear !
Must I but wish for wells more bless'd ?
Must I but weep ? No, I must toil !
Earth, render back from out thy breast
A remnant of thy odorous oil !
If not three-hundred, grant bu* three
Precious barrels a day to me.
What ! silent still ? and silent all?
Ah no ! the rushing of the gas
Sounds like a distant torrent's fall
And answers, bore ahead, you ass,
A few feet more ; you miss the stuff
Because you don't go deep enough !
In vain ! in vain ! Pull up the tools !
Fill high the cup with lager-beer !
Leave oil-wells to the crazy fools
Who from the East are flocking here.
See at the first sight of the can
How hurries each red-shirted man !
Fill high the cup with lager-beer !
The maidens in their promenade
Towards my lease their footsteps steer
To see if yet my fortune's made ;
But sneers their pretty faces spoil
To find I have not yet struck oil.
Place me in Oil Creek's rocky dell,
Though mud be deep and prices high ;
There let me bore another well
And find petroleum or die.
No more I'll work this dry-hole here ;
Dash down that cup of lager-beer.
One of those few and rare occasions upon which John D. Rockefeller is
prevailed upon to address an audience was last March in New York, at a social
gathering of the Young Men's Bible Class of the Fifth-Avenue Baptist-Church.
Much that he said was extremely interesting. In laying down many excellent
precepts he brought forth several lessons from the experiences of his early life.
By references to his first ledger, as he called it, which was nothing more than a
small paper-covered memorandum-book, he explained how he managed to save
THE STANDARD OIL-COMPANY, 425
money even on a small salary. The little book contained the first items of his
receipts and expenditures when he first began to earn money. To judge from
the care with which he handled this reminder of his early struggles, Mr. Rocke-
feller was in earnest when he intimated that it would require a fortune to pwr-
chase it. His address, purely informal and conversational, was warmly ap-
plauded by his hearers and commended by the press. Its practical wisdom and
the light it throws upon the early life of a most successful man entitle it to care-
ful preservation. Mr. Rockefeller said, as reported by the New- York Tribune:
Let me say that it gives me a great deal of pleasure to be here to-night. Although I cannot
make you a speech, I have brought with me to show you young men a little book a book, I think ,
which may interest you. It is the first ledger I kept. I was trained in business affairs and how
to keep a ledger. The practice of keeping a little personal ledger by young men just starting in
business and earning money and requiring to learn its value is, I think, a good one. In the first
struggle to get a footing and if you feel as I did I am sorry for you, although I would not be
without the memory of that struggle I kept my accounts in this book, also some memoranda of
little incidents that seemed to me important. In after-years I found that book and brought it to
New York. It is more than forty-two years since I wrote what it contains. I call it Ledger A,
and now I place the greatest value upon it. I have thought that it would be a little help to
some of you young men to read one or two extracts from this ledger. [Mr. Rockefeller then
produced from his pocket, carefully enveloped in paper-wrapping, the ledger to which he re-
ferred, and continued his remarks] :
When I found this book recently I thought it had no cover, because it had writing upon its
back. I had utilized the cover to write upon. In those days I was economical, even with paper.
When I read it through it brought to my mind remembrances of the care with which I used to
record my little items of receipts and disbursements, matters which many of you young men are
rather careless over. I believe it is a religious duty to get all the money you can fairly and
honestly ; to keep all you can and to give away all you can. I think that is a problem that you
are all familiar with. I have told you before what pleasure this little book gives me. I dare not let
you read it through, because my children, who have read it, say that I did not spell tooth-brush
correctly. [Laughter.] But you know we have made great progress in our spelling and I sup-
pose some changes have taken place since those days. [Renewed laughter.] I have not seen
this book for twenty-five years. It does not look like a modern ledger, does it? But you could
not get that book from me for all the modern ledgers in New York, nor for all that they would
bring. It almost brings tears to my eyes when I read over this little book, and it fills me with a
sense of gratitude that I cannot express. It shows largely what I received and what I paid out
during my first years of business. It shows that from September twenty-sixth, 1855, until January'
first, 1856, I received $50. Out of that I paid my washerwoman and the lady I boarded with, and
saved a little money to put away. I am not ashamed to read it over to you.
Among other things I find that I gave a cent to the Sunday-school every Sunday. That is
not a very large sum, is it? But that was all the money I had to give for that particular object.
I was also giving to several other religious objects. What I could afford to give I gave regu-
larly, as I was taught to do, and it has been a pleasure to me all my life to do so.
I had a large increase in my revenue the next year. It went up to $25 a month. I began to
be a capitalist and, had I regarded myself then as we regard capitalists now, I ought to have felt
like a criminal because I had so much money. But we had no trusts or monopolies then.
[Laughter.] I paid my own bills and always had a little something to give away, and the happi-
ness of saving some. In fact, I am not so independent now as I was then. It is true I could not
secure the most fashionable cut of clothing. I remember I bought mine then of a Jew.
[Laughter.] He sold me clothing cheap, clothing such as I could pay for, and it was a great deal
better than buying clothing that I could not pay for. I did not make any obligations I could not
meet. I lived within my means, and my advice to you young men is to do just the same.
Dr. Faunce has just told you that all young men who come to this church are welcome and
are never asked to whom they belong or where they came from. But there is just one question
I would like to ask. I would like to know how many of you come from the city and how many
come from the country. (Mr. Rockerfeller asked, as a personal favor, if all those present in the
room who came from the country would raise their right hand. Fully three-quarters of the
number did so.) Now, what a story that tells !
To my mind there is something unfortunate in being born in a city. You have not had the
struggles in the city that we have had who were reared in the country. Don't you notice how
the men from the country keep crowding you out here you who have wealthy fathers ? These
young men from the country are turning things around and are taking your city. We men from
the country are willing to do more work. We were prepared by our experience to do hard work.
426 SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
I remember a little time ago I was in the country and saw a carpenter placing mineral-wool under
the roof of a city servant's bedroom, so that the man should not feel the heat of the summer or
hear the patter of the rain-drops on the roof. I could not at the time help recalling the experi-
ence of my boyhood, when I slept under a roof. While I could not see the shingles, I remember
I could peep through the cracks in them. It was pretty hot in the summer up there, too, I can
tell you. But I think I was better for all that sort of experience, for having been reared in the
country in that sturdy, practical way, and my heart is sometimes full of sadness as I contemplate
the condition of the number of young fellows in this city whom I happen to know well.
They are in the embarrassing position that their fathers have great sums of money, and those
boys have not a ghost of a chance to compete with you who come from the country and who want
to do something in the world. You are in training now to shortly take the places of those young
men. I suppose you cannot realize how many eyes are upon you and how great is the increas-
ing interest that is taken in you. You may not think that, when you are lonely and find it difficult
to get a footing. But it is true that, in a place like this, true interest is taken in you. When I
left the school-house I came into a place similar to this, where I associated with people whom it
was good to know. Nothing better could have happened to me.
I spoke just now of the struggle for success. What is success ? Is it money? Some of you
have all the money you need to provide for your wants. Who is the poorest man in the world >
I tell you, the poorest man I know of is the man who has nothing but money nothing else in
the world upon which to devote his ambition and thought. That is the sort of man I consider to-
be the poorest in the world. Money is good if you know how to use it.
Now, let me leave this little word of counsel for you. Keep a little ledger, as I did. Write
down in it what you receive, and do not be ashamed to write down what you pay away. See
that you pay it away in such a manner that your father or mother may look over your book and
see just what you did with your money. It will help you to save money, and that you ought to
do. When I spoke of a poor man with money I spoke against the poverty of that man who has
no affection for anything else, or thought for anything else but money. That kind of a man does
not help his own character, nor does he build up the character of another.
Before I leave you I will read a few items from my ledger. I find in looking over it that I
was saving money all this time, and in the course of a few years I had saved $1,000. Now, as to
some of my expenses. I see that from November twenty-fourth, 1855, to April, 1856, I paid for
clothing $9.09. I see also, here, another item which I am inclined to think is extravagant,
because I remember I used to wear mittens. The item is a pair of fur-gloves, for which I paid
$2.50. In the same period, I find I gave away $5.58. In one month I gave to foreign-missions ten
cents ; to the mite-society thirty cents, and there is also a contribution to the Five-Points Mis-
sion. I was not living then in New York, but I suppose I felt that it was in need of help, so I
sent up twelve cents to the mission. Then to the venerable teacher of my class I gave thirty-five
cents to make him a present. To the poor people of the church I gave ten cents at this time.
In January and February following I gave ten cents more and a further ten cents to the foreign-
missions. Those contributions, small as they were, brought me into direct contact with philan-
thropic work, and with the beneficial work and aims of religious institutions, and I have been
helped thereby greatly all my life. It is a mistake for a man who wishes for happiness and to
help others to wait until he has a fortune before giving to deserving objects. [Great applause.]
And this exemplary citizen, who in his youth and poverty formed the habit
of systematic benevolence, who befriends the poor, who dispenses charity with
a bountiful hand, who helps young men better their condition, who gives mil-
lions for education and religion, who believes in the justice of God and the
rights of man, who has woven the raveled skeins of a weakened industry into
the world's grandest business-enterprise, assassins of character picture as a
cold-blooded oppressor, a base conspirator, a "devourer of widows' houses,"
an abettor of larceny and instigator of arson ! "Oh, Shame ! where is thy blush? ' '
Although the Standard pays the highest wages in the world and has never
had a serious strike in its grand army of forty-thousand men, not one cent of a
reduction was ordered during the panic. No works stopped and no employe's
were turned adrift to beg or starve. On the contrary, improvements and addi-
tions were made continually, the force of workmen was augmented, cash was
paid for everything bought, no claims remained unsettled and nobody had to
wait an hour for money justly due. These are points for the toiling masses,
whom prejudice against big corporations sometimes misleads, to understand
and consider before accepting the creed that wealth and dishonor are synony-
mous, that each is the creature of the other and both are twin-links of the same
sausage.
A WELL-SHOOTER.
THE OLD YEAR DONE IN OIL.
The Oil-City Blizzard, itself as
lively as a glycerine-explosion, in a
spasm of dynamite-enthusiasm loaded
up and fired off this eccentricity :
Pat Magnew was a shooter bold,
Who handled glycerine ;
And though he had no printing-shop
He ran a magazine.
And while he had a level head,
And business plenty found,
'Most ev'ry job he undertook
He ran into the ground.
He never claimed expert to be,
But what he did was right,
And when he shot a well, you see,
He did it " out of sight."
He seemed to like his daily toil,
Its dangers did not fear ;
He'd help his patrons to find oil,
And then he'd disappear.
Sometimes he shot wells with a squib,
When at the proper level ;
Sometimes when he had been to church,
He shot with a go-devil.
He always had a great tin-shell
Beside him on the seat,
Had horses good and drove like well,
No moss grew on their feet.
And when he drove along the road,
And that was every day,
Wise people all, who knew his load,
Gave him the right of way.
His wife once said : " I greatly fear
That you will yet be blown
To atoms, if you don't, my dear,
Let well enough alone."
*' Some day there'll be a thunder-sound ;
And scattered far and near,
O'er hill and dale and all around,
Will be my husband dear."
Replied Magnew: " I call to mind
His words are nowise sickly-
That Billy Shakespeare once remarked :
4 'Twere well it were done quickly.'
"And I'll be blown," continued Pat,
" If I didn't want it known,
That I'd rather be by dynamite
Than by a woman blown."
Old Year ! transported by fast freight,
With neither drawback nor rebate,
How odd it seems to quote thee " late ! "
Old Year ! since thou wert struck, alas !
What surface shows have men let pass
They promised oil and yielded gas !
Old Year ! test-wells of crude that smelt,
But had no sand like snows would melt.
Few always drill straight on the belt !
Old Year ! thy option has expired,
Certificates have been retired
And royalty in full required.
Old Year! thy territory's played,
Pipage and storage-charges paid,
Tanks emptied and delivery made.
Old Year ! a twelvemonth pump'd thee dry,
Now tools and cable are laid by,
Engine and derrick idle lie.
Old Year ! developments are o'er,
The paraffine has clogg'd each pore
And thou shall operate no more.
Old Year ! lease out and rig in dust,
Time on thy boiler, left to rust,
Writes the producer's motto : " Bu'st ! "
And when it comes our turn to be
Immediate shipment o'er life's sea,
Old Year ! we'll put a call for thee !
THE CANINE'S DOOM.
When the Oil-City Derrick had its
circus with the Allegheny-Valley Rail-
road it fell to my lot to write up most
of the incidents of the conflict. Occa-
sionally a bit of doggerel like this hit
the popular fancy :
Moses had a great big dog,
His hair was black as jet,
And everywhere that Moses went
That pup was sure to get.
One day, upon the Valley Road
When Moses went to ride,
The faithful canine follow'd close
And sat down by his side.
But when the train to Scrubgrass got
The daily wreck occurr'd,
The cars cavorted down the bank
Without one warning word.
Sad was that hapless puppy's fate-
So mangled, burn'd and drown'd,
Not a bologna could be made
From all the fragments found !
WHEN OIL is 70 CENT
WHEIN OIL is $3.
HOW THE PRICE OF Oi L AFFEXTSTHE PRODUCER
WHEN OIL is & 5.
XIX.
JUST ODDS AND ENDS.
How NATURAL-GAS PLAYED ITS PART FIRE AND WATER MUCH IN EVIDENCE-
CHANGES IN METHODS AND APPLIANCES DESERTED TOWNS PECULIAR COIN-
CIDENCES AND FATALITIES RAILROAD EPISODES REMINISCENCES OF BYGONE
SCENES PRACTICAL JOKERS SAD TRAGEDIES LIGHTS AND SHADOWS IN-
TERMINGLE AND THE CURTAIN FALLS FOREVER.
"Variety's the very spice of life." Cowper.
" Fuss and feather, wind and weather, varied items strung together." Oil City Derrick.
" Laugh when we must, be candid when we can." Pope.
" ' A picker-up of unconsidered trifles '
From many sources facts and fancies rifles." Anonymous.
*' Every house should have a rag-bag and a general storeroom." Miss Parloa.
" A little nonsense now and then is relished by the wisest men." Holmes.
" Let days pass on, nor count how many swell
The episode of life's hack chronicle." Lytton.
" Fond memory brings the light of other days around me." Anonymous.
"Close up his eyes and draw the curtain close." Shakespeare.
" Fare thee well ! and if forever, still forever fare thee well." Byron.
Hard coal and dry wood as good fuel may pass,
But can't hold a candle to natural gas. Original.
" Half light, half shadow, let my spirit sleep." Tennyson.
" Side by side may we stand at the same little door when all's done." Owen Meredith.
ATURAL-GAS, the cleanest, slickest, handiest fuel
that ever warmed a heart or a tenement, is the right
bower of crude-petroleum. It is the one and only
fuel that mines, transports and feeds itself, without
digging every spoonful, screening lumps, carting,
freighting and shoveling into the stove or furnace.
Getting it does not imperil the limbs and lives of
poor miners the most overworked and underpaid
class in Pennsylvania in the damp and darkness of
death-traps hundreds of feet beneath the surface of
the ground. You drill a hole to the vital spot, lay
a pipe from the well to the home or factory, turn a
stop-cock to let out the vapor, touch off a match
and there it is the brightest, cleanest, steadiest,
hottest fire on earth. Not a speck of dust, not an
atom of smoke, not a particle of cinder, not a taint of sulphur, not a bit of ashes
vexes your soul or tries your temper. There is no carrying of coal, no dump-
ing of choked grates, no waiting for kindling to catch or green wood to burn,
no scolding about sulky fires, no postponement of heat because the wind blows
in the wrong direction. Blue Monday is robbed of all its terrors, the labor of
housekeeping is lightened and husbands no longer object to starting the fire on
cold mornings. A nice blaze may be let burn all night in winter and kept on
tap in summer only when needed. It is lighted or extinguished as readily as
(429)
430 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
the gas-jet in the parlor. It melts iron, fuses glass, illumines mills and streets,
broils steaks to perfection and does away with many a fruitful source of fam-
ily-broils. It saves wear and tear of muscle and disposition, lessens the pro-
duction of domestic quarrels, adds to the pleasure and satisfaction of living and
carries the spring-time of existence into the autumn of old age. Set in a dainty
metal frame, with background of asbestos and mantel above, its glow is cheer-
ful as the hickory-fire in the hearth. It gives us the ingle-nook modernized
and improved, the chimney-corner brought down to date. It glides through
eighty-thousand miles of pipes in Pennsylvania, Ohio, West Virginia, Indiana
and New York and employs a hundred-million dollars to supply it to people
within reach of the bounteous reservoirs the kindly earth has treasured all
through the centuries. If it be not a blessing to humanity, the fault lies with
the folks and not with the stuff. The man who spouts gas is a nuisance, but
the well that spouts gas is something to prize, to utilize and be thankful for.
Visitors to the oil-region or towns near enough to enjoy the luxury, beholding
the beauty and adaptability of natural-gas, may be pardoned for breaking the
tenth commandment and coveting the fuel that is Nature's legal-tender for the
comfort and convenience of mankind.
The pretty town of Fredonia, in New York state, three miles from Lake
Erie and forty-five south-west of Buffalo, enjoys the distinction of first using
natural-gas for illuminating purposes. It is a beautiful place, famous for fine
roads, fine scenery and fine vineyards. Canodonay Creek, a small but rapid
stream, passes through it to the lake. Opinions vary as to the exact date when
the gas was utilized, some authorities making it 1821, others 1824 and a few
1829. The best information fixes it at 1824, when workmen, in tearing down an
old mill, observed bubbles on the water that proved to be inflammable. The
hint was not lost. A company bored a hole one-inch-and-a-half in diameter
into the limestone-rock. The gas left its regular channel, climbed the hole,
lighted a new mill and was piped to a hundred houses in the village at a cost
of one-fifty a year for each. The flame was large and strong and for years
Fredonia was the only town in America lighted by "nature-gas." A gasom-
eter was constructed, which collected eighty-eight cubic feet in twelve hours.
The inhabitants didn't keep late hours. A mile nearer Lake Erie many gas-
bubbles gamboled on the stream. Efforts to convey the gas to the light-house
at Dunkirk failed, as it was only half the weight of air and would not descend
the difference in elevation.
A light-house at Erie was lighted by natural-gas in 1831, "the Burning
Spring," a sheet of water through which the vapor bubbled, furnishing the
supply. A tower erected over the spring held the gas that accumulated dur-
ing the day and wooden-pipes conveyed it at night to the light-house.
Dr. Charles Oesterlin, a young German physician, sixty years ago un-
packed his pill-boxes and hung out his little sign at Findlay, in Northwestern
Ohio. He was an expert geologist and mineralogist, but the flat Black Swamp
afforded poor opportunities to study the rocks underlying the limestone. The
young physician detected the odor of sulphuretted hydrogen in the town and
along the banks of the Blanchard River. It puzzled him to guess the source of
the odor. He spoke to the farmers, who smelled the stuff, knew nothing and
cared less about its origin or properties. The Doctor searched for a sulphur-
spring. In October of 1836 the solution came. A farmer was digging a well
three miles from town. A spring was tapped and the water "boiled," as the
diggers expressed it. Debating what to do, they were called to supper, re-
JUST ODDS AND ENDS. 431
turned after dark and lighted a torch to examine the well. Holding the torch
over the well an explosion startled them and a flame ascended that lasted for
days. Nobody was seriously hurt, but all thought the devil had a finger in the
pie. Dr. Oesterlin connected the incident with the odor and it confirmed his
theory of a gas that would burn and might serve as fuel. At a stone-quarry he
made a cone of mud over a fissure, covered it with a bucket and applied a
light. When the Doctor picked himself up in an adjoining corn-field the
bucket was still sailing north towards Toledo. Daniel Foster, another Findlay
farmer, dug a well in 1838. Gas issued from the hole before water was seen.
Foster had a practical mind. He inverted a copper-kettle over the hole, rigged
a wooden pump-stock beneath the kettle, plastered around it with clay, joined
more pump-stocks together, stuck an old gun-barrel in the end of the last one,
lighted the gas in his kitchen and by means of the flame boiled water, roasted
coffee and illumined the apartment. Then Dr. Oesterlin declared Findlay was
right over a vast caldron of gas. People laughed at him, adhered to tallow-
dips and positively refused to swallow such a dose. Petroleum-developments
in Pennsylvania fortified his faith and he sought to interest the public in a
company to "bore a hole twenty inches across." Sinners in Noah's day were
less impervious. Business-men scoffed and declined to subscribe for stock.
He tried again in 1864 and 1867 with the same result. A company was organ-
ized to manufacture coal-gas. He talked of the absurdity of making gas at
Findlay as equal to setting up a manufactory of air or water. It was no use.
At last the triumph of natural-gas in Pennsylvania was manifested too strongly
for the obtuse. Findlayites to ignore it. In 1884 the Doctor managed to enlist
four-thousand dollars of capital and start a well in a grove a mile east of town,
where the odor was pungent and gas flowing through a tile-pipe he planted
in the ground burned for weeks. He watched the progress of the work with
feverish anxiety. The hopes of fifty long years were to be grandly realized or
dashed forever. Sleepless nights succeeded restless days as the veteran's
heart-beats kept time with the rhythmic churning of the drill. At five, six and
seven-hundred feet morsels of gas quickened the expectations of success. At
eleven-hundred feet, in the Trenton limestone, on November tenth, 1884, gas
burst forth with terrific force. The well was drilled sixteen-hundred feet and
encountered salt-water. It was plugged below the gas-vein, the gas was
lighted, an immense flame shot up and for months a quarter-million feet a day
burned in the open air. Findlay grew from five-thousand to fifteen-thousand
population and manufacturing flourished. Dr. Oesterlin, slight of frame, in-
firm with age, his thin locks and beard white as snow, had waited fifty years
for his vindication. It came when he had reached four-score, full, complete and
overwhelming. He bore his honors meekly, lived to round out eighty-two and
nowhere is it recorded that he even once yielded to the temptation of remark-
ing : " I told you so !"
Gas was used as fuel at pumping-wells on Oil Creek in 1862. It was first
collected in "gas-barrels," one pipe leading from the well to the receptacle and.
another from the barrel to the boiler. Many fires originated from the flame,
when the pressure of gas was small, running back to the barrel and exploding
it. A pumper at Rouseville, seated on a gas-barrel at such a moment, went
skyward and may be ascending yet, as he never returned for his week's wages.
D. G. Stillwell, better known as "Buffalo Joe," drilled a gasser in 1867 at Oil
City, on the site of the Greenfield Lumber-Company's office. He piped the
gas to several houses, but the danger from constant changes of pressure led to-
432
SKETCHES IN CRUDE OIL.
its abandonment. This is the first authentic record of the use of "the essence
of Sheol" for cooking food and heating dwellings. In 1883 the Oil-City Fuel-
Supply Company laid a six-inch gas-line to wells at McPherson's Corners, Pine-
grove township, eight miles distant. The gas was produced from the second
and third sands, at a depth of nine to ten-hundred feet and a pressure not ex-
ceeding two-hundred pounds to the square inch. In 1885 the late Samuel
Speechly started a well on his farm near McPherson's, intending to drill three-
thousand feet in search of the Bradford sand.
Oil-bearing strata dip twenty feet to the mile
southward and Speechly believed the northern
rocks existed far beneath the ordinary third-sand
in Venango county. On April thirteenth, at nine-
teen-hundred feet,
the drill penetrated
what has since been
called the ' 'Speech-
ly sand," the most
extraordinary and
valuable fuel-sand
as yet discovered.
In this sand at three
feet pressure of gas
became entirely too
great to keep jerk-
ing the tools. The
gas company leased
the well and turned
it into the line with-
out being able to
gauge it on account
of the high volume.
Speechly commenced a second well and the company, having previously laid
a new ten-inch line to Oil City, constructed branches to Franklin and Titusville.
The second well proved to be the largest to the present time, excepting the Big
Moses in West Virginia. For a time it could not be controlled. The roar of
the escaping gas could be heard for miles. Eventually it was tubed and the
ipressure was six-hundred pounds. Many wells in other fields have had greater
pressure, but the large volume of the Speechly well made it a wonder. One
day all the other wells connected with the main-line were discontinued from the
line temporarily and the Jumbo turned in. The flow was sufficient to supply
Oil City, Titusville and Franklin with all the gas required. Hundreds of wells
have been drilled to the Speechly sand and the field now reaches from the
southern part of Rockland township, Venango county, to Tionesta township,
Forest county. It is about thirty miles long, with an average width of three
miles, while the sand ranges in thickness from fifty to one-hundred feet. The
pressure gradually diminishes. It requires constant drilling to keep up the
supply, the Oil-City Company alone having about four-hundred wells.
Samuel Speechly died on Sunday night, January ninth, 1893, aged sixty-one,
at his home in the gas-district bearing his name. His life was notably eventful,
adventurous and fortunate. Born in England in 1832, at fourteen he began to
learn locomotive-building and marine-engineering at Newcastle-on-Tyne. At
JUST ODDS AND ENDS. 433
twenty Robert Stephenson & Co. sent him to China to join a steamer engaged
in the opium-trade. In 1855 ne entered the service of the Chinese government
to suppress piracy on the coast, and in 1857 started at Hong Kong the first en-
gineering-business in the vast empire ruled by the pig-tailed Brother of the Sun.
He visited America in 1872 and lived in Philadelphia. Wanting plenty of room,
he went to Northwestern Pennsylvania, resided a year in Cranberry township,
concluded to stay and settled on what subsequently became the famous Speechly
farm. The well he drilled in 1885 had neither oil nor gas in the usual forma-
tions. Veteran operators advised him to abandon it, but Speechly entertained
a notion of his own and the world knows the sequel. He was married in China
in 1864 to Miss Margaret Galbraith, who survives him, with two daughters,
Emily, born in China, and Adelaide, born in America. His widow and chil-
dren occupy the old home on the farm.
Bishop Potter, stopping at Narrowsburg in 1854, noticed jets of gas exuding
from the bank of the Delaware river at Dingman's Ferry, forty miles above
Easton, and published an article on the subject. A company in 1860 bored
three wells, but the result was not encouraging, as politicians are the most gase-
ous bodies Northampton county has produced for thirty years. A gas-well at
Erie attracted considerable attention in 1860 and was followed by a number
more, which from a shallow depth yielded fuel to run several factories. East
Liverpool, Ohio, put the product to practical use early in the seventies as a sub-
stitute for coal. The first well, drilled in 1860, caught fire and destroyed the
rig. Geologists say natural-gas is the disembodied spirits of plants that grew
in the sunshine of ages long before the foundations of the buried coal-measures
were laid, so long ago shut up and forsaken by the light-hearted sun that it is a
wonder they hadn't forgotten their former affinity. But they hadn't. They
rushed out to the devouring kiss of their old flame at the first tap of the drill 1
on their prison-house, like a foolish girl at the return of a fickle lover. They
found Old Sol flirting with their younger sister, playing sweet to a lot of new
vegetation. Before they had time to form a sewing-circle and resolve that all
the male sex are horrid, they took fire with indignation at his fickleness and the
tool-dresser's forge and burst with a tremendous explosion. The fire was
quenched and gas poured out of the pioneer-well fifteen years. Street-lamps
were left burning all day, which was cheaper than to bother putting them out,
and East Liverpool prospered as a hive of the pottery-industry. The celebrated
well at East Sandy, Venango county, which gave birth to Gas City in 1869,
burned a year with a roar audible three miles. Becoming partially exhausted,
the fire was put out and the product was used for fuel at numerous wells. The
famous Newton well, on the A. H. Nelson farm, was struck in May of 1872 and
piped in August to Titusville, five miles south west. Its half-million cubic-feet
per day supplied three-hundred firms and families with light and fuel. Henry
Hinckley and A. R. Williams organized the company, one of the very first in
Pennsylvania to utilize natural-gas on an extensive scale. The same year gas
from the Lambing well was piped to Fairview and Petrolia. The Waugh well
at Millerstown and the Berlin at Thompson's Corners, Butler county, were the
next big gassers. The great Delamater No. 2, near St. Joe, finished in 1874,
for months was the biggest gas-well in the world. Its output was conveyed to
the rolling-mills at Sharpsburg. The first gas-well in Butler county is credited
to John Criswell, of Newcastle, who drilled for salt-water in 1840 near Centre-
ville, struck a vein of the vapor at seven-hundred feet and fired it to heat his
evaporating-pans.
434 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
At Leechburg and Apollo natural-gas has been used in puddling-furnaces
since 1872. It will supply the huge mills at Vandergrift, the model town that is
to be the county-seat of Vandergrift county, which the next Legislature will set
off from Armstrong, Westmoreland and contiguous districts. It was the fuel
of the cutlery-works at Beaver Falls from 1876 until the wells ceased producing
in 1884. In 1875 Spang & Chalfant piped it from Butler to their mills in the
suburbs of Pittsburg. Though Pittsburgers knew of its value in the oil-region
for twenty years, they regarded it as a freak and not calculated to affect their
interests favorably. Iron manufactured by its means was of superior quality,
owing to the absence of sulphur and the intensity of the heat. In 1877 the Hay-
maker well opened the Murraysville gas-field, but that immense storehouse of
potential energy lay dormant until Pew & Emerson piped the product to Pitts-
burg. In June of 1884 George Westinghouse, inventor of the air-brake and of
various electric-appliances, struck a gas-well near his residence in Pittsburg.
From that date the development was enormous. Wells producing from two to
twenty-million cubic-feet a day were in order. The Philadelphia Company
Westinghouse was its president alone tied up forty-thousand acres of gas-ter-
ritory, drilled hundreds of wells and laid thousands of miles of pipes. Hon.
James M. Guffey headed big corporations that supplied Wheeling, a portion of
Pittsburg and dozens of smaller towns. The coal displacement in Pittsburg
equaled thirty-thousand tons daily. Twenty and twenty-four-inch mains inter-
sected the city. Iron, brass, steel and metal-working establishments consumed
it. Glass-factories turned out by its aid plate-glass such as mankind had never
seen before. The flaming breath of the new demon transformed the appear-
ance and revolutionized the iron-manufacture of the Birmingham of America.
The Smoky City was a misnomer. Soot and dirt and smoke and cinders dis-
appeared. People washed their faces, men wore "biled shirts" and girls
dressed in white. The touch of a fairy-wand could not have made a more re-
splendent change. Think of green grass, emerald hues, clear sunlight and
clean walls in Pittsburg ! At first timid folks feared to introduce it, because the
pressure could not be regulated. All this has been remedied. The roaring,
hissing monster that almost bursts the gauge at the well is tamed and subjugated
to the meekness of a dove by valves and gasometers, which can reduce the
pressure to a single ounce. Queer, isn't it, that Pittsburg should be metamor-
phosed by natural-gas the fires of hell as it were into a city of delightful
homes, an industrial paradise ?
Gas-wells of high pressure were found in Ohio by thousands, as though
striving to vie with the oil-wells which, beginning at Mecca in 1860 and ending
at Lima, stocked up twenty-million barrels of crude. Over three-hundred com-
panies were chartered in a year to supply every town from Cincinnati to Ash-
tabula. Natural-gas raged and blistered and for a term was the genuine " Ohio
idea." For thirty years well? at New Cumberland, West Virginia, have
furnished fuel to burn brick. The same state has the biggest gassers in exist-
ence and lines to important cities are projected. If " the mountain won't come
to Mohammed, Mohammed must go to the mountain." Indiana has gas and
oil in four counties, with Gas City as headquarters and lots of fuel for houses
and factories in Indianapolis and the chief cities. The Hoosiers have carried
out the principle of Edward Eggleston's Mrs. Means: "When you're a-gittin*
git plenty, I say." Illinois had a morsel of oil and gas in wells at Litchfield.
Kentucky and Tennessee are blessed with "a genteel competence" and Kan.
sas has not escaped. Michigan has gas-wells at Port Huron and St. Paul once
JUST ODDS AND ENDS. 435
boasted a company capitalized at a half-million. Buffalo inhaled its first whiff
of natural-gas, piped from wells in McKean county, on December first, 1886.
Youngstown was initiated next day, from wells in Venango. A Mormon com-
pany bored wells at Salt Lake, but polygamy was not supplanted by any odor
more unsavory. In Canada gas is abundant and Robert Ferguson, now a well-
to-do farmer near Port Sarnia, first turned it into an engine-cylinder as a joke
on the engineer at the pump-station in Enniskillen township. Steam was low,
the engineer was absent, Ferguson cut the pipe leading from the boiler, con-
nected it with one from a gas-well near-by, opened the throttle and, to his as-
tonishment, found the pressure greater than steam. Natural-gas, a gift worthy
of the immortal gods, worthy of the admiration of Vulcan, worthy of the praise
of poets and historians, the agent of progress and saver of labor, is not a trifle
to be brushed off like a fly or dismissed with a contemptuous sneer.
Pittsburg iron-works and rolling-mills received natural-gas at about two-
thirds the cost of coal. The coal needed to produce a ton of metal cost three
dollars, the gas that did the same service cost one-ninety. Besides this impor-
tant saving, the expense of handling the fuel, hauling away cinders and waiting
for furnaces to heat or cool was avoided. Gas-heat was uniform, stronger,
more satisfactory, could be regulated to any temperature, turned on at full head
or shut off instantly. Thus Pittsburg possessed advantages that boomed its
manufactories immensely and obliged many competitors less favored to retire.
In this way the anomaly of freezing out men by the use of greater, cheaper
heat was presented.
On March seventeenth, 1886, at Pittsburg, Milton Fisher, of Columbus, was
the first person to be incinerated in a natural-gas crematory. In fifty minutes
the body was reduced to a handful of white powder. The friends of the de-
ceased pronounced the operation a success, but Fisher was not in shape to ex-
press his opinion.
A singular accident occurred near Hickory, Washington county, on the
night of December fourth, 1886. Alfred Crocker, an employe of the Chartiers
Gas-Company, had been at the tanks on the McKnight farm and was going to-
ward the well. The connecting-pipe between the well and tank burst with ter-
rible force, striking Crocker on the left leg, blowing the foot and ankle com-
pletely off and injuring him about the body. The explosion hurled the large
gas-tank a hundred feet. The young man died next morning.
The steam tow-boat Iron City once grounded near the head of Herr's Is-
land, above Pittsburg. The stern swung around and caught on a pipe convey-
ing natural- gas across the Allegheny river. In trying to back the vessel off the
pipe broke, the escaping gas filled the hold and caught fire from the furnace.
An explosion split the boat from stem to stern, blew off the deck and blew the
crew into the river. The boat burned to the water's edge.
Near Halsey, in the Kane field, James Bowser was standing on a gas-tank,
while a workman was endeavoring to dislodge an obstruction in the pipe leading
from the well. The removal of the obstruction caused the pent-up gas to rush
into the tank with such force that the receptacle exploded, hurling Bowser high
in the air. He alighted directly in front of the heavy volume of gas escaping
through the broken pipe. Before he could be rescued he was denuded of all
clothing, except one boot. His clothing was torn off by the force of the gas
and his injuries were serious.
Workmen laying pipe to connect with the main at Grapeville were badly
flustered one frosty morning. By mistake the gas was turned on, rushing from
436 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
the open end with great force. It ploughed up the earth and pebbles and
ignited, the flinty stones producing a spark that set the whole thing in a blaze.
Gas-wells yield liberally at Grapeville, supplying the glass-works at Jeannette
and houses at Johnstown, the farthest point east to which the vapor-fuel has
been piped.
J. S. Booker, an Ohio man, claimed to spot gas. His particular virtue lay
in the muscles at the back of the neck, which rise up and irritate him in the
presence of natural-gas. This is ahead of rheumatism as a rain-indicator.
Booker's own story is that an attack of asthma left him in a sensitive state, so
that when he passes over a vein of gas the electricity runs through his legs, up
his spine and knots the muscles of the neck. The story deserves credit for its
rare simplicity. With the whole realm of fiction at his command, Booker
chose only a few simple details and was content to pass current as a sort of
human witch-hazel.
At Economy, where a hundred stand-pipes for natural-gas illuminate the
streets, bugs and fruit-vermin were slaughtered wholesale. In the mornings
there would be a fine carpet of bugs around every post. Chickens and turkeys
would have a feast and a foot-race from the roosts to see which would get to
the already-cooked breakfast first. The trees came out in bloom earlier and
healthier than formerly, because the vermin were destroyed and the frosts kept
from settling by the gas-lights, which burn constantly. As a promoter of veg-
etation natural-gas beats General Pleasanton's blue-glass out of sight.
Samuel Randall, the Democratic statesman, visited the gas-wells at Mur-
raysville with Hon. J. M. Gufifey. From a safe distance the visitor threw a
Roman candle at a huge column of vapor, which blazed quicker than a church-
scandal, to Mr. Randall's great delight. President and Mrs. Cleveland were
afforded a similar treat by Mr. Guffey. The chivalrous host chartered a train
and had a big well fired for the distinguished visitors. The lady of the White
House was in ecstacies and the President evidently thought the novel exhibi-
tion knocked duck-shooting silly. Could a mind-reader have X-rayed his
thinking-department it would likely have assumed this form: "Mr. Guffey,
you have a tremendous body of gas here, but /have Congress on my hands !"
Eli Perkins lectured at St. Petersburg one night and next day rode with
me through part of the district. He wanted points regarding natural-gas
and smilingly jotted down a lot of Munchausenisms current in the oil-region.
A week later he sent me a marked copy of the New- York Sun, with columns
of delicious romance concerning gas-wells. Eli was no slouch at drawing the
long-bow, but he fairly surpassed himself, Jules Verne and Rider Haggard on
this occasion. His vivid stories of tools hurled by gas a thousand feet, of
derricks lifted up bodily, of men tossed to the clouds and picturesque adven-
tures generally were marvels of smooth, easy, fascinating exaggeration. Per-
haps "if you see it in the Sun it's so," but not when Eli Perkins is the
chronicler and natural-gas the subject.
"The Fredonia Gas-Light and Water- Works Company," which obtained a
special charter in 1856, was undoubtedly the first natural-gas company in the
world. Its object was, "by boring down through the slate-rock and sinking
wells to a sufficient depth to penetrate the manufactories of nature, and thus
collect from her laboratories the natural-gas and purify it, to furnish the citizens
with good cheap light." The tiny stream of gas first utilized at the mill yielded
its mite forty years. When Lafayette remained a night at Fredonia in 1824,
on his triumphal visit to the United States, "the village-inn was lighted with
JUST ODDS AND ENDS. 437
gas that came from the ground." The illustrious Frenchman saw nothing in
his travels that interested and delighted him more than this novel illumination.
Col. J. A. Barrett, for many years a citizen of Illinois and law-partner of
Abraham Lincoln, in 1886 removed to a tract of five-thousand acres on Tug;
Fork, near the quiet hamlet of Warfield. Gas issued from the soil and tradi-
tion says George Washington fired the subtle vapor at Burning Spring while
surveying in West Virginia before the Revolution. Captain A. Allen, who
pioneered the oil-business on Little Kanawha, leased the tract from Col. Bar-
rett and struck a vast reservoir of gas at two-thousand feet.
John G. Saxe once lectured at Pithole and was so pleased with the people
and place that he donated twenty-five dollars to the charity-fund and wrote
columns of descriptive matter to a Boston newspaper. " If I were not Alexan-
der I would be Diogenes," said the Macedonian conqueror. Similarly Henry
Ward Beecher remarked, when he visited Oil City to lecture, " If I were not
pastor of Plymouth church I would be pastor of an Oil-City church." The
train conveying Dom Pedro, Emperor of Brazil, through the oil-regions stopped
at Foxburg to afford the imperial guest an opportunity to see an oil-well tor-
pedoed. He watched the filling of the shell with manifest interest, dropped!
the weight after the torpedo had been lowered and clapped his hands when a
column of oil rose in the air. An irreverent spectator whispered : " This beats
playing pedro."
Daniel Fisher, ex-mayor of Oil City and chief of the fire-department,
donned a new suit one day when oil-tanks abounded in the Third Ward. Hear-
ing a cry of distress, he mounted a tank and saw a man lying on the bottom, in.
a foot of thick oil. He dropped through the hatchway, pulled up the victim
of gas and with great difficulty dragged him up the small ladder into the fresh,
air. Of course, the new clothes were spoiled beyond hope of redemption.
The man revived, said his name was Green, that he earned a living by clean-
ing out tank-bottoms and was thus employed when overcome by gas. Next
day Fisher met Green, who thanked him again for saving his life, borrowed
ten dollars and never repaid the loan or offered to set up a new suit of clothes.
"Brudders an' sistern," ejaculated a colored preacher, "ef we knowed
how much de good Lawd knows about us it wud skeerusmos' to deff." A
Franklin preacher once seemed to forget that the Lord was posted concerning
earthly affairs, as he prayed thirty-six minutes at the exercises on Memorial
Day. The sun beat down upon the bare heads of the assembled multitude,
but the divine prayed right along from Plymouth Rock to the close of the war.
Col. J. S. Myers, the veteran lawyer, presided. Great drops of perspiration
rolled down his face, but he was like the henpecked husband who couldn't get
away and had to grin and bear it. He summed up the situation in a sen-
tence : " I think ministers ought to take it for granted that the Almighty knows,
enough American history to get along nicely without having it prayed at Him
by the hour!"
Fire and water have scourged the oil-regions sorely. A flood in March of
1865 submerged Oil City, floated off hundreds of oil-tanks and small buildings-
and did damage estimated at four-millions of dollars. Fire in May of 1866
wiped out half the town, the loss footing up a million dollars. The most ap-
palling disaster occurred on Sunday, June fifth, 1892. Heavy rains raised Oil
Creek to such a height that mill-dams at Spartansburg and Riceville gave way,
precipitating a vast mass of water upon Titusville during Saturday night. With
a roar like thunder it struck the town. Sleepers were awakened by the resistless.
29
438 SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
tide and drowned. Refineries and tanks of oil caught fire and covered acres of
the watery waste with flames. Helpless men, women and children tottered and
tumbled and disappeared, the death-roll exceeding fifty. The two elements
seemed to strive which could work the greater destruction. Above Oil City a
huge tank of benzine was undermined and upset on Friday morning. The
combustible stuff floated on the creek, which had risen four feet over the floors
of houses on the flats. The boiler-fire at a well near the Lake-Shore tunnel
ignited the cloud of benzine. An explosion followed such as mortal eyes and
ears have seldom seen and heard. The report shook the city to its foundations.
A solid sheet of flame rose hundreds of feet and enveloped the flats in its fatal
embrace. Houses charred and blazed at its deadly touch and fifty persons per-
ished horribly. The sickening scene reminded me of the Johnstown carnage in
SCENE AT OIL CITY AFTER THE DISASTER ON JUNE 5, 1892.
1889, with its miles of flooded ruins and dreadful blaze at the railroad-bridge.
Whole families were blotted out. Edwin Mills, his wife and their five children
died together. Heroic rescues and marvelous escapes were frequent. John
Halladay Gordon saved forty 'people in his boat, rowing it amid the angry
flames and swirling waters at imminent risk. The recital of brave deeds and
thrilling experiences would fill a volume. That memorable Sunday was the
saddest day Oil City and Tilusville ever witnessed. The awful grandeur of the
.spectacle at both places has had no parallel.
Sweeping into the yards of a refinery at the upper end of Titusville, the water
tore open a tank containing five-thousand gallons of gasoline. Farther down
an oil-tank and a gasoline-tank were rent in twain. Water covered the streets
and shut people in their houses. The gas-works and the electric-plant were
submerged and the city was in darkness. At midnight a curious mist lay thick
and dense and white for a few feet above the water. It was the gasoline vapor,
a cartridge a half-mile long, a quarter-mile wide and two yards thick, with a
JUST ODDS AND ENDS.
439
coating of oil beneath, waiting to be fired. One arm of the mist reached into the
open furnaces of the Crescent Works and touched the live coals on the grate.
There was a flash as if the heavens had been split asunder. Then the explosion
came and death and havoc reigned. And the horror was repeated at Oil City,
until people wondered if the Day of Judgment could be more terrifying. The
infinite pity and sadness of it all !
The burning of the Acme Refinery at Titusville, on June eleventh, 1886,
entailed a loss of six-hundred-thousand dollars. It caught from a tank light-
ning had struck. By great efforts the railroad-bridge and the Octave Refinery
\vere saved. The fire raged three days and nights, and the departments from
RUINS OF THE ACME REFINERY, TITUSVILLE, AFTER THE FIRE ON JUNE I,
Warren, Corry and Cil City were called to render assistance. Hardly a town
in the oil-regions has been unharmed by fire or flood, while many have been
ravaged by both.
The fire that desolated St. Petersburg started in Fred Hepp's beer-saloon.
Hepp had a sign representing a man attempting to lift a schooner of lager as
big as himself and remarking, " Oxcuse me ov you bleese." The fire " ox-
cused" him from further exertion. Two destructive conflagrations almost
eliminated Parker from the face of the earth. Karns City experienced three
fiery visitations. In 1874 sixty-four buildings in the heart of town went up in
smoke. Sixteen followed in September, 1876, the post-office and two largest
stores figuring in the list. On March fifth, 1877, Mrs. F. E. Bateman, three
children and a guest perished in the Bateman House. Bateman, one son and
one guest were caught in the flames and burned fatally, dying in a few hours.
440 SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
Burning coals adhering to a chunk of a bursting boiler, on Cherry Run, near the
Reed well, plunged into a tank of oil and started a frightful blaze. Acres of
the valley, covered with derricks and tanks, flamed with the fury of a veritable
hell. Men fled to the hills and no life was lost. A train of blazing tank-cars on.
the Allegheny- Valley Railroad, below Foster station, interrupted travel for many
hours. The passenger-train from Pittsburg stopped and the passengers walked
up the track to see the huge blaze. Thomas Bennett, the engineer, went a
short distance ahead, when an iron-tank exploded with fearful violence, one
piece striking Bennett in the breast and killing him instantly. David Ker was
conductor of the train poor Bennett did not live to guide to its destination.
Thomas Martindale, who leads the retail-grocery trade, brought with him
to Philadelphia twenty years ago the vim and energy that gained him fame and
fortune in the oil-region. He clerked for years in a Boston dry-goods store,
quit Massachusetts for Pennsylvania and landed at Oil City in 1869. He took
the first job that offered grubbing out a road to his wells for John S. Rich
used eyes and brain and soon knew how to " run engine." Buying an interest
in a grocery, his " Checkered Store " became noted for excellent wares and low
prices. The "Blue Store," larger and better,
followed and was in turn succeeded by the
"Mammoth." Martindale sold to Steffee &
Co., moved to Philadelphia and opened the first
California store. It was a revelation to the
citizens to get fruits and wines straight from the
Pacific coast and they patronized him liberally.
Partners were taken in, whom the head of the
firm imbued with something of his own energy
and magnetism. Active in politics and trade,
wide-awake and public-spirited, many Phila-
delphians contend that the next mayor of the
Quaker City shall spell his name Thomas Martin-
dale. He is a trenchant writer and has published
"Sport Royal," an admirable work descriptive
of hunting adventures in which he participated.
THOMAS MARTINDALE. r~, ,. i i 1 r
The live merchant who caught the inspiration of
five-dollar oil is sixteen ounces to the pound every time and every place.
"Never quarrel with a preacher or an editor," said Henry Clay, "for the
one can slap you from the pulpit and the other hit you in his paper without
your getting a chance to strike back." Col. William Phillips, president of the
Allegheny-Valley Railroad, violated the Kentucky statesman's wise maxim by
making war on the Oil-City Derrick. He was building the Low-Grade divi-
sion, from Red Bank to Emporium, and the main-line suffered. The track was
neglected, decayed ties and broken rails were common and accidents occurred
too frequently for comfort. The winter and spring of 1873 were fruitful of dis-
aster. At Rockland an oil-train ran over the steep bank into the river, upset-
ting the passenger-coach at the rear. The oil caught fire, several passengers
were burned to death and others were terribly injured. The railroad officials,
acting under orders from headquarters, refused to give information to the crowd
of frantic people who besieged the office at Oil City to learn the fate of friends
on the train. To the last moment they denied that anything serious had hap-
pened, although passengers able to walk to Rockland Station telegraphed brief
particulars. At last a train bearing some of the injured reached Oil City. Next
JUST ODDS AND ENDS. 441
morning the Derrick gave full details and criticised the management of the
road severely for the bad condition of the track and the stupid attempt to with-
hold information. The heading of the article "Hell Afloat" enraged-Col.
Phillips. He and Superintendent J. J. Lawrence prepared a circular to the con-
ductors, instructing them "to take up pass of C. E. Bishop or J. J. McLaurin
whenever presented, collect full fare, prohibit newsboys from selling the Oil-
City Derrick on the trains, not allow the paper to be carried except in the mails
or as express-matter, and to report to the General Superintendent. ' ' Conductor
Wench, a pleasant, genial fellow, on my next trip from Parker looked per-
plexed as he greeted me. He hesitated, walked past, returned in a few mo-
ments and asked to see my pass. The document was produced, he drew a
letter from his pocket and showed it to me. It was the order signed by Phil-
lips and Lawrence. ' ' That's clear enough, here's your fare, ' ' was my rejoinder.
It was agreed at the office to say nothing for a day or two. Doubtless Phil-
lips and Lawrence thought the paper had been scared and would send a flag of
truce. A big wreck afforded the opportunity to open hostilities. For months
the war raged. The paper had a regular heading " Another Accident on the
Valley of the Shadow Road " which was printed every morning. Accidents
multiplied and travel sought other lines. Phillips threatened to remove the
shops from South Oil City, his partners wished Bishop to let up, he refused and
they bought his interest. Peace was proclaimed, the road was put into decent
order and the Pennsylvania Railroad eventually secured it. The fight had no
end of comical features. It worried Col. Phillips exceedingly and spread the
reputation of the Derrick over the continent. The cruel war is over and Col.
Phillips and Col. Lawrence journeyed to the tomb long years ago.
"Jim" Collins he ought to be manager is about the only one of the
early conductors on the Allegheny- Valley Railroad still in the traces. His
record of twenty-seven years shows capable, faithful attention to duty and care
for the comfort and safety of passengers that has gained him the highest popu-
larity. Superintendent "Tom" King, now vice-president of the Baltimore &
Ohio, is among the foremost railroad-officials of the United States. His brother
was crushed to death by the cars. Wench, the Taylors, Reynolds and Bonar
have been off the road many years. Long trains of crude are also missing,
some towns along the route have disappeared and the crowds of operators who
formerly thronged the line between Parker and Oil City have vanished from
the scene. David Kerr, whom Collins succeeded, went to Arkansas. John
McGinnes, one of the bravest engineers who ever pulled a throttle, headed the
railroad-strikers in 1877 and died six years ago. "Jim " Bonnar is in Chicago,
Grant Thomas is train-dispatcher and " Dick" Reynolds superintends a Balti-
more road. The Allegheny-Valley, extended to Oil-City in the winter of 1867-8,
is different from what it was when the superintendent walked over the entire
track every day and the president applied formally to the directors for authority
to purchase a new lock for his desk.
The first railroad to enter Oil City was the Atlantic & Great Western, now
of the Erie system, in 1866. Its first train crossed the mouth of Oil Creek on a
track laid upon the ice. " Billy" Stevens and John Babcock were early con-
ductors. Stevens went to Maine and Babcock died several years ago at Mead-
ville, soon after completing a term as mayor of the city. The Farmers' Rail-
road was finished in 1867, the Allegheny Valley in 1868 and the Lake-Shore in
1870. A short railroad up Sage Run conveyed coal from the Cranberry mines.
On August fourth, 1882, the engineer Frank Wright lost control of a train on
442
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
the down grade, one of the steepest in the state. He reversed the engine ta
the last notch and jumped, sustaining injuries that caused his death in four days.
For two miles the track was torn up and coal-cars were smashed to splinters by
running into a train of freight-cars at McAlevy's Mills. Six men were killed
outright and five died from their injuries next day.
The popular auditor of the New York Central, W. F. McCullough, was an
Oil-City boy. His brother, James McCullough, is traveling-auditor of the New
York, New Haven & Hartford ; another brother, E. M. McCullough, is travel-
ing bill-agent for the U. S. Steamship-Railway Company. They are sons of the
late Dr. T. C. McCullough, who died at Oil City in 1896.
Hon. Thomas Struthers, of Warren, who died in 1892 at the age of eighty-
nine, donated the town a public-library building that cost ninety-thousand
dollars. He aided in constructing the Pennsylvania Railroad, built sections of
the Philadelphia & Erie and Oil-Creek Railroads and the first railroad in Cali-
fornia. He was the first manager of the Oil-Creek road. Frank Thomson,
WILLIAM H. STEVENS.
FRANK THOMSON.
JOHN BABCOCK.
the capable president of the Pennsylvania Railroad, was also superintendent
of the Oil-Creek. C. J. Hepburn, now residing in Harrisburg and permanently
disabled as the result of an accident, held the same position for years. He was
a thorough railroader, esteemed alike by the employes and the public for his
efficient performance of duty. The old-time Oil-Creek conductors were lock-
switch, steel-track and rock-ballast clear through. Gleason, postmaster at Corry
a term or two, runs the Mansion House at Titusville. " Bill" Miller is on the
Pacific coast. Mack Dobbins died at St. Louis and " By " Taylor has made
his last trip. Barber lives at Buffalo. "Mike" Silk, who yanked oil-trains
from Cherry Run, is a wealthy citizen of Warren. Selden Stone and " Pap"
Richards are still on deck, the last of a coterie of as white railroad-men as ever
punched pasteboard "in the presence of the passenjare."
" We live in deeds, not years ; in thoughts, not breaths ;
In feelings, not in figures on a dial."
Few railroaders are so widely and favorably known as A. B. Youngson.
For twenty-three years he was locomotive-engineer on the Atlantic road.
Every man, woman and child on the Franklin branch, between Meadville and
Oil City, knew and liked the clever, competent man who sat in the cab and
never neglected his duty. Seven years ago Mr. Youngson was appointed
JUST ODDS AND ENDS.
443
Assistant Grand Chief of the Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers, a position
his experience and geniality adapt him admirably to fill. His brother, J. J.
Youngson, has been connected with the Atlantic road now called the New
York, Philadelphia & Ohio for thirty years as superintendent of the water-
works department of the system. A. G. Post, a veteran ever to be found at
A. G. POST.
YOUNGSON.
A. B. YOUNGSON.
his post, is deservedly popular as a conductor. Peter Bo wen, the trusty road-
master, who used to keep the track in apple-pie order, years ago traveled the
track "across the divide." From President Thomas down to the humblest
laborer the " Nypano ' ' officials and employes are not excelled in efficiency >
courtesy and manliness.
Andrew Carnegie, the colossus of the iron-trade, was a stockholder of the
Columbia Oil-Company, which operated the Storey farm, on Oil Creek. The
money he obtained from this source enabled him to gain control of the Braddock
Steel-Works. Starting in life as a telegraph messenger-boy, he soon learned to
manipulate the key expertly and was placed in charge of the railroad-office at
Atlantic, Ohio. Thomas A. Scott, then superintendent of the Pittsburg Division
of the Pennsylvania Railroad, engaged him as his clerk and operator. Scott
established his headquarters at Altoona and promoted
young Carnegie to the chief-
clerkship. His . shrewdness
and fidelity won favor and
advancement. He was ap-
pointed superintendent of the
Pittsburg Division, and in 1864
selected David McCargo as
his assistant. McCargo, who
had been operator in the
Commercial Telegraph office,
superintended the Pennsyl-
vania-Railroad telegraph-ser-
vice. Robert Pitcairn, first
an operator at Hollidaysburg, was transferred to Altoona. went thence to Fort
Wayne with J. N. DuBarry, afterwards vice-president of the "Pennsy," and
returned about 1870 to succeed Carnegie on the Pittsburg Division. He is now
one of the highest officials of the Pennsylvania and lives in Pittsburg. Mr.
McCargo became General Superintendent of the Pacific & Atlantic Lines in
ANDREW CARNEGIE.
DAVID MCCARGO.
Bancroft Library
444 SKETCHES IN CRUDE- OIL.
1868. In 1875 ne was appointed General Superintendent of the Allegheny
Valley Railroad. This responsible position he has held twenty-two years,
greatly to the advantage of the road and the satisfaction of the public. Carnegie
invested in oil and sleeping-car stock and enjoyed Col. Scott's confidence. The
railroad-king died and his clever clerk eventually controlled the steel plant ten
miles east of Pittsburg. Now Andrew Carnegie bosses the steel-industry, owns
the largest steel-plants in the world, manufactures massive armor-plate for war-
ships blow-holes blew holes in its reputation " once upon a time " and has
acquired forty or fifty-millions by the sweat of his workmen's brows. He has
parks and castles in Scotland, spends much of his time and cash abroad, coaches
with princes and nobles and lets H. C. Frick fricasee the toilers at Braddock
and Homestead. The Homestead riots, precipitated by a ruffianly horde of
Pinkerton thugs, aroused a storm of indignation which defeated Benjamin
Harrison for the presidency and elected Grover Cleveland on the issue of
tariff-reform. Mr. Carnegie writes soul-stirring magazine articles on the duties
of capital to labor and has established numerous public-libraries. He is stoutly
built and exceedingly healthy. His enormous fortune may yet endow some
magnificent charity.
" Oh ! it is excellent to have a giant's strength,
But it is tyrannous to use it like a giant."
You may meet them at Oshkosh or Kalamazoo, in New York or Washing-
ton, around Chicago or San Francisco, about New Orleans or Mexico, but not
a few men conspicuously successful in finance, manufactures, literature or pol-
itics have been mixed up with oil some time in their career. Commodore
Vanderbilt, Jay Gould, James Fisk, Thomas A. Scott, John A. Garrett and A.
J. Cassatt profited largely from their oil-interests. Mr. Cassatt, superintending
the Warren & Franklin Railroad, acquired the knowledge of oil-affairs he
turned to account in shaping the transportation-policy of the Pennsylvania
Railroad. Besides the colossal gains of the Standard Oil-Company, petroleum
won for such men as Captain J. J. Vandergrift, J. T. Jones, J. M. Guffey, John
McKeown, John Galey, J. J. Carter, Charles Miller, Frederic Prentice, S. P.
McCalmont, William Hasson, George V. Forman, Thomas W. Phillips, John
Satterfield, H. L. Taylor, John Pitcairn, Theodore Barnsdall, E. O. Emerson,
Dr. Roberts, George K. Anderson, Jonathan Watson, Hunter & Cummings,
Greenlee & Forst, the Grandins, the Mitchells, the Fishers, the McKinneys,
the Plumers, the Lambertons and a host of others from one to ten-millions
apiece. Certainly coal, cotton or iron, or all three combined, can show no
such list. Oil augmented the fortunes of Stephen Weld, Oliver Ames and F.
Gordon Dexter, the largest in New England. It put big money into the pock-
ets of Andrew Carnegie, William H. Kemble and Dr. Hostetter. To it the
great tube-works, employing thousands of men, and multitudes of manufac-
turing-plants owe their existence and prosperity. Some of the brightest news-
paper-writers in New York, Philadelphia and Chicago learned force and direct-
ness amid the exciting scenes of Oildom. Several are authors of repute and
contributors to magazines. Grover Cleveland, while mayor of Buffalo, im-
bibed business-wisdom and notions of sturdy independence from his acquaint-
ance with Bradford oil-operators. Governor Curtin was a large stockholder
in oil-companies on Cherry Run and Governor Beaver may claim kin with the
fraternity as the owner of oil-wells in Forest county. No member of Congress
for a generation made a better record than J. H. Osmer, Dr. Egbert, J. C. Sib-
ley, C. W. Stone and Thomas W. Phillips. Galusha A. Grow was president
JUST ODDS AND ENDS. 445
of the Reno Oil-Company. Mr. Sibley was tendered the second place on the
Democratic ticket at Chicago and could have been nominated for president,
instead of William J. Bryan, but for the stupid hostility of a Pennsylvania boss.
More capable, influential members than W. S. McMullan, Lewis Emery, J. \V
Lee, W. R. Crawford, William H. Andrews, Captain Hasson,Willis J. Hulings,
Henry F. James and John L. Mattox never sat in the State Senate or the Leg-
islature. And so it goes in every part of the country, in every profession, in
every branch of industry and in every business requiring vigor and enterprise.
Michael Geary, whose death last year was a severe blow to Oil City, for-
cibly illustrated what energy and industry may accomplish. He was a first-
class boiler-maker and machinist, self-reliant, stout-hearted and strong men-
tally and physically. In 1876 he started the Oil-City Boiler- Works in a small
building, Daniel O'Day and B. W. Vandergrift furnishing the money and tak-
ing an interest, in the business. O'Day and Geary became sole owners in 1882.
The plant was enlarged, the tube-mills were added, acres of buildings dotted
the flats and a thousand men were employed. Engines, tanks, stills, tubing,
casing and boilers of every description were manufactured. The machinery
comprised the latest and fullest equipment. The business grew amazingly.
Joseph Seep was admitted to partnership and branch-offices were established
in New York, Chicago, Pittsburg and at various points in the oil-producing
states. The firm led the world as tank-builders, actually constructing one-
third the total iron-tankage in the United States. Mr. Geary bought and re-
modeled the Arlington Hotel, fostered local enterprises and was a most pro-
gressive citizen. He died in the vigor of manhood. The splendid industries he
reared and the high place he held in public esteem are his enduring monument.
- " He had kept
The whiteness of his soul, and thus men o'er him wept."
Since Christmas day of 1873, when they struck their first well at Millerstown,
Showalter Brothers have been leading operators in the Butler field. Hon.
Joseph B. Showalter, who has managed the firms affairs wisely, was born in
Fayette County, taught school at sixteen, relin-
quished teaching for medicine, and was graduated
in 1884 from the Baltimore College of Physicians
and Surgeons. In 1886 he was elected to the
legislature and to the state-senate two years later,
making an excellent record in both bodies. Butler
county nominated him for Congress, but Lawrence
and Mercer combined in favor of J. J. Davidson.
Dr. Showalter is a substantial citizen, in close touch
with the people and worthy of the confidence re-
posed in him. Hon. M. L. Lockwood, for seven
years a resident of Butler, represented Clarion
county twice in the legislature and introduced the
Free-Pipe Bill. Robert Lockwood, the founder of
the family in America, came from England with
Winthrop in 1630. Mr. Lockwood began oil-opera-
. JOSEPH B. SHOWALTER.
tions on Cherry Run in 1865, opposed the South-
Improvement rascality zealously and was a member of the Producers' Com-
mittee that secured the passage by Congress of the Interstate-Commerce Bill.
He is largely interested in oil and manages a hundred wells for Tait & Patterson.
In the days of oil-shipments by boat and teaming, before the advent of
446
SKETCHES IN CRUDE OIL.
pipe-lines, Watson, Densmore & Co. handled large quantities of crude in
barrels, hauling it from the wells to the nearest railroad-station. Daniel T.
Watson, senior member of the firm, was born in Maine in 1806, learned
harness-making, conducted a profitable store in New Hampshire and came to
Oil Creek with James Densmore early in the sixties. He bought the oil and
managed the shipping-business of the firm, which employed scores of teams to
haul crude from wells at Shamburg and boat it from wells on the banks of Oil-
Creek to the loading-tanks at Miller Farm. When the
railroad reached Boyd Farm the firm opened a branch
office at Pioneer and shipped east most of the oil pro-
duced on Bull, Pioneer and Benninghoff Runs, in the
"blue cars" Watson, Densmore & Co. were the first
to introduce. Clinton Rouderbush, afterwards well
known in the exchanges, represented the firm in New
York. Pipe lines ending primitive modes of trans-
portation, Mr. Watson operated largely in the Pleasant-
ville field, in connection with Benson & McKelvy,
WILLIAM DENSMORE.
JAMES DENSMORK.
Lewis Emery and Samuel Q. Brown. He lived two
years on the Morrison farm, removed to Minnesota in
1873 an( 3 died at Lakeland on July first, 1894. Mr.
Watson was prominent in his day and did much to put
oil-shipping on a solid basis
The Densmores lived on Woodcock Creek, twenty
miles from Titus ville, when the Drake well startled
the quiet community. The father and his son Amos
visited the well and soon contrived a metal-shoe to fix
to a wooden-pipe to cheapen drilling. Emmett Dens-
more traversed the oil-region to sell the shoes, often
walking forty miles a day. Jonathan Watson leased him land on the flats below
Titusville, Amos had good credit and the pair put down a dry-hole with a
spring-pole. They leased a piece of ground from James Tarr and drilled the
Elephant well, so named from the "monster tank" twenty-five hundred
barrels Amos constructed from pine-planks to hold the great flow of oil. The
Elephant yielded hundreds of barrels daily and the other brothers James,
William and Joel were invited to come into the partnership. Amos was given
to invention and he made bulk-boats, the first tanks for storing crude and the
DANIEL T. WATSON.
JOEL DENSMORK
EMMETT DENSMORE.
JUST ODDS AND ENDS.
447
first wooden-tanks forty to fifty barrels each for platform-cars. With Daniel
T. Watson they shipped extensively until pipe-lines retired barrels, pond-freshets
and bulk-boats permanently. The brothers sank many wells and acquired
wealth. Amos, James and Joel have passed over to the better land. Amos
and George W. N. Yost, once the largest oil-shipper, perfected the famous
Densmore Type-Writer. James bought out the Remington Type-Writer.
London is Emmett's home and he has attained prominence as a physician.
His wife, Dr. Helen Densmore, assists in his practice and has written a book in
behalf of Mrs. Maybrick, whose imprisonment has aroused so much sympathy.
William Densmore owns a big flour-mill and the Central Market at Erie. The
Densmores possessed energy, genius and manliness that merited the success
which rewarded their efforts in various lines of human activity.
These early shipping-times developed many men of exceptional ability and
character. T. Preston Miller was long a familiar figure on Oil Creek and at
Franklin, as buyer for the Burkes and later for Fisher Brothers. "Pres" was
ISAAC RH1NEMAN.
JOHN B. SMITHMAN.
T. PRESTON MILLER.
generous, popular and most accommodating in his dealings. The snows of a
dozen winters have blown over his grave in the Franklin cemetery. The late
Isaac Reineman was another of Oil City's trustworthy pioneers. He bought
oil, operated in the lower districts with William M. Leckey, served three terms
as prothonotary and died in January, 1893, from the effects of slipping on the
icy porch the night before Christmas. He had charge of Captain Vandergrift's
oil properties in Washington county and, with Charles Ford, held blocks of
land in West Virginia. Ford was found dead in bed last year. John B. Smith-
man, who came to the Creek to buy oil for John Munhall & Co., has been
enriched by his operations in Venango county and the northern fields. He
built a beautiful home in Oil City and overcame stacks of obstacles to give the
town a street railway. He has provided a delightful park four miles down the
Allegheny, built a steel bridge across the river and positively refused to be
ruled off the track by any opposing element. " People do not kick a corpse."
Progression is the unchanging watchword of the petroleum-industry. The
three-pole derrick of yore has given place to the plank-giant that soars eighty
or ninety feet. The spring-pole is a shadowy memory. The first drilling-tools
weighed ninety-eight pounds ; a modern set weighs two tons. Instead of
spending weeks to "kick down " a well a hundred feet, a thousand feet can be
448
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
JOHN EATON.
bored between Monday morning and Saturday night. Ten-horse portable
engines and boilers are well-nigh forgotten. The first iron-pipe for tubing wells,
butt- weld ready to burst on the slightest provocation, was manufactured in
Massachusetts and sold for one dollar per foot.
Now lap-weld tubing of the best material brings a
dime a foot. So it is in methods of transportation
and refining. Bulk-boats, leaky barrels and long
hauls through fathomless mud are superseded by
pipe-lines, which pump oil from the wells to New
York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Cleveland and
Chicago. The rickety stills and dangerous devices
of former times have yielded to the splendid re-
fineries that utilize every vestige of crude and fur-
nish two-hundred merchantable commodities. For
much of this important advance in tools, appliances
and machinery the great Oil-Well Supply-Company
is directly responsible. From small beginnings it
has grown to dazzling proportions. It is the only
concern on earth with the facilities and capacity to
manufacture everything needed to drill and oper-
ate oil-wells and artesian-wells and equip refineries. Its nine enormous plants
at convenient points employ thousands of skilled workmen and acres of the
latest machinery. They turn out every conceivable requisite in steel, iron,
brass or wood, from engines and complete rigs to the smallest fittings. John
Eaton, the founder and president of the company, may fairly claim to be the
father of the well-supply trade. His connection with it dates back to 1861
and has continued ever since. He started business for himself in 1867 and the
next year took up his abode in the oil-region. In 1869 he and E. H. Cole formed
the partnership of Eaton & Cole, which the Eaton, Cole & Burnham Company
of New York succeeded. Several rival firms organized the Oil-\Yell Supply
Company, Limited, in 1878, with Mr. Eaton at its head.
The present corporation succeeded the Limited Com-
pany in 1891. Mr. Eaton's enterprise and experience
are invaluable to the company. All new inventions
adapted to wells or refineries are examined carefully
and the most valuable purchased. Branch-offices and
factories have kept pace with the spread of oil-develop-
ments. The Company's wares find a market in every
civilized land. Vice-President Kenton Chickering,
first-class clear through, manages the large establish-
ment at Oil City. Pittsburg is now Mr. Eaton's home.
He is genial and courteous always, prompt and saga-
cious in business, broad in his ideas and true to his
convictions, and his Oil-Weil Supply-Company is something to be proud of.
George Koch, a native of Venango county and relative of the celebrated
Dr. Koch of Germany, is a well-known inventor and writer. He began oil-
operations in 1865, in 1873 formed a partnership with his brother and Dr. Knight,
in 1880 organized the. firm of Koch Brothers William A., J. H. and George
Koch and was nominated three times for the legislature. He took an active
part in the Producers' Council, edited the Fern-City Illuminator and published
-a book of " Stray Thoughts." He invented a torpedo for oil-wells, improved
GEORGE KOCH.
JUST ODDS AND ENDS.
449
COL. L. H. FASSETT.
drilling-tools and well-appliances, patented a system of " Sectional Iron Tanks,"
a " Rubber- Packing, " " Movable Store-Shelving " and other useful devices.
Mr. Koch has just rounded the half-century mark, he lives in East Sandy and
no man has done more to simplify the methods of sinking and operating wells.
Col. L. H. Fassett is one of the honored veterans of the late war and a
veteran operator in heavy oil. For nearly thirty years he has been a leader in
the Franklin district, operating successfully and enjoying the esteem of all
classes. He has a delightful home, is active in
furthering good objects and doesn't worry a particle
when oil happens to drop a peg.
Twelve miles south-east of Pittsburg, on the
Bedell farm, near West Elizabeth, the Forest Oil-
Company is drilling the deepest well on the conti-
nent. It is down fifty-five-hundred feet, consider-
ably more than a mile, and will be put to six-
thousand at least. Geologists and scientists are
much interested In the strata and the temperatures
at different depths. This is the deepest well ever
attempted to be sunk with a cable, the one near
Reibuck, Eastern Silesia, having been bored about
seven-thousand feet with rotating diamond core-
drills. T. S. Kinsey and his two sons, of Wells-
burg, drilled a dry-hole forty-five-hundred feet in
1891, on Boggs' Run, West Virginia, near Wheel-
ing, for a local company. Think how progress has been marching on since
Drake's seventy-foot gopher-hole to render the Forest's achievement possible !
Surely petroleum-life is as full of promise as a bill-collector's.
Hon. Thomas W. Phillips, the wealthy oil-producer, who declined to serve
a third term in Congress, labored zealously to secure legislation that would set-
tle differences between employers and employes by arbitration. He offered to
pay a quarter-million dollars to meet the expense of a thorough Congressional
inquiry into the condition of labor, with a view to the presentation of an authori-
tative report and the adoption of measures calculated to prevent strikes and
promote friendly relations. When the suspension of drilling in the oil-region
deprived thousands of work for some months, Mr. Phillips was especially active
in effecting arrangements by which they received the profits upon two-million
barrels of crude set apart for their benefil. The Standard Oil-Company, always
considerate to labor, heartily furthered the plan, which the rise in oil rendered
a signal success. This was the first time in the history of any business that
liberal provision was made for workmen thrown out of employment by the
stoppage of operations. What a contrast to the grinding and squeezing and
shooting of miners and coke-workers by " coal-barons " and "iron-kings!"
When you come to size them up the oil-men don't have to shrink into a hole to
avoid close scrutiny. They pay their bills, are just to honest toil, generous to
the poor and manly from top to toe. They may not relish rheumatism, but this
doesn't compel them to hate the poor fellow it afflicts. As Tiny Tim ob-
served : "God bless us every one!"
"Ivry gintleman will soon go horseback on his own taykittle" was the
inspired exclamation of an Irish baronet upon beholding the initial trip of the
first locomotive. Vast improvements in the application of power have been
effected since Stephenson's grand triumph, nowhere more satisfactorily than in-
450
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
the oil-regions. Producers who remember the primitive methods in vogue
along Oil Creek can best appreciate the wonderful progress made during three
decades. The tedious process of drilling wet-holes with light tools has gone
where the woodbine twineth. Casing has retired the seed-bag permanently, and
from the polish-rod to the working-barrel not the smallest detail remains unim-
proved. Having a portable engine and boiler at each well has given place to
the cheaper plan of coupling a host of wells together, two men thus doing the
work that once required twenty or thirty. Pipe-lines have superseded greasy
barrels and swearing teamsters, and even tank-cars are following the flat-boats of
pioneer times to oblivion. In short, labor-saving systems have revolutionized the
business so completely that the fathers of the early styles would utterly fail to rec-
ognize their offspring in the petroleum-development as conducted now-a-days.
C. L. Wheeler, one of the earliest buyers of crude on Oil Creek in 1860
and first President of the Bradford Oil-Exchange, recently went to his eternal
reward. Orion Clem-
ens, brother of Mark
Twain and once a
writer for the Oil-City
Derrick, died lately.
Truly, the boys are
"crossing the divide"
at a rate it grieves the
survivors to note.
The fine illustrations
of oil-scenes in Russia
are from the collection
of photographs gath-
ered by John Eaton,
President of the Oil-
Well Supply Company,
during his visits to the
dominions of the Czar.
' ' Long may he wave ! ' '
Crude sixty-five,
Well, sakes alive!
You seek rich spoil ?
Don't bore for oil.
'Mid Klondyke snow
You have more show
To score a hit
And save a bit.
Six-thousand wells
drilled and ninety-six-
thousand barrels of pro-
duction per day repre-
sent oil-operations in
Pennsylvania in 1897. To this enormous output Ohio and Indiana added fifty-
three-thousand barrels a day and thirty-six-hundred wells.
To the indefatigable zeal and liberality of Rev. Thomas Carroll, for twenty-
five years in charge of the parish, Oil City owes the erection of the finest church
in Northwestern Pennsylvania. The beautiful edifice fitly crowns the summit
of Cottage Hill. Its two lofty spires point heavenward and its altar is a marvel
of exquisite taste and finish. An elegant parsonage stands on the adjacent lot,
ROUSTABOUTS PREPARING TO CLEAN OUT A RUSSIAN
JUST ODDS AND ENDS. 451
with the 'parochial school across the street. It is proposed to rebuild the
schools, to supply a large hall and a convent and to provide every convenience
for the various societies connected with the grand congregation. This idea is
rendered possible by the splendid offer of Father Carroll to pay one-half the
entire cost himself. The good work he has done for temperance, education,
morality and religion cannot be estimated. He is distinguished by his catholic
spirit, his broad charity, his unwearied philanthropy and his unswerving devo-
tion to the right. No man has made a deeper, nobler impress upon any com-
munity in the oil-regions than the beloved pastor of St. Joseph's. " Late may
he return to Heaven !"
" Each man makes his own stature, builds himself;
Virtue alone outbuilds the Pyramids ;
Her monuments shall last when Egypt's fall."
A host of changes, some pleasing and more unutterably sad, have the swift
seasons brought. The scene of active operations has shifted often. The great
Bradford region and the rich fields around Pittsburg and Butler have had their
innings. Parker, Petrolia, St. Petersburg, Millerstown and Greece City have
followed Plumer, Shaffer, Pioneer, Red-Hot and Oleopolis to the limbo of for-
saken things. Petroleum Centre is a memory only. Rouseville is reduced to a
skeleton. Not a trace of Antwerp, or Pickwick, or Triangle is left. Enterprise
resembles Goldsmith's " Deserted Village," or Ossian's " Balaclutha." Tip-
Top, Modoc, Troutman, Turkey City, St. Joe, Shamburg, Edenburg and Buena
Vista have had their rise and fall. Fagundas has vanished. Pleasantville fails
to draw an army of adventurous seekers for oleaginous wealth. Tidioute is an
echo of the past and scores of minor towns have disappeared completely. For
forms and faces once familiar one looks in vain. Where are the plucky operators
who for a half-score years made Oil Creek the briskest, gayest, liveliest spot in
America? Thousands are browsing in pastures elsewhere, while other thou-
sands have crossed the bridgeless river which flows into the ocean of eternity.
Alas for sentiment ! Nero proves to have been a humanitarian, a good
man who was merely a bad fiddler. Henry the Eighth turns out to be a model
husband, rather unfortunate in the loss of wives, but sweetly indulgent and
only a trifle given to fall in love with pretty girls. William Tell had no son and
shot no arrow at an apple on young Tell's head. Now Charlotte Temple is a
myth, the creation of an English novelist, with her name cut on a flat tombstone
in Trinity Churchyard over a grave which originally bore a metal-plate sup-
posed to commemorate a man ! At this rate some historic sharp in the future
may demonstrate that the oil-men were a race of green-tinted people governed
by King Petroleum. Colonel Drake may be pronounced a figure of the im-
agination, the Standard a fiction, the South-Improvement Company a night-
mare and the Producers' Association a dream. Then some inquisitive, anti-
quarian may come across a copy of " Sketches in Crude-Oil " stored in a for-
gotten corner of the Congressional library, and set them all right and keep the
world running in the correct groove with regard to the grand industry of the
nineteenth century.
"I stood upon Achilles' tomb
And heard Troy doubted: time will doubt of Rome."
A dry-joke tickles and a dry-hole scrunches. It's a poor mule won't work
both ways, a poor spouter that can't keep its owner from going up the spout, a
poor boil in the pot that isn't better than a boil on the neck, a poor chestnut on
the tree that doesn't beat a chestnut at a minstrel show and a poor seed that
produces no root or herb or grain or fruit or flower. "Who made you?" the
452
SKETCHES IN CRUDE-OIL.
Sunday-school teacher asked a ragged urchin. " Made me? Well, God made
me a foot long and I grovved the rest !" And so the early operators on Oil
Creek made the oil-development "afoot long" and it "growed the rest." The
tiny seed is a vigorous plant, the puling babe a lusty giant. Amid lights and
shadows, clouds and sunshine, successes and failures, struggles and triumphs,
starless nights and radiant days, petroleum has moved ahead steadily. Growth,
"creation by law," is ever going on in the healthy plant, the tree, the animal,
the mind, the universe. We must go forward if the acorn is to become an oak.
the infant a mature man, the feeble industry a sturdy development. Progress
implies more of Evolution than of evolution, just as the oak contains much
that was not in the acorn, and the oil-business in 1858 possesses elements un-
known in 1859. Not to advance is to go backward in religion, in nature and in
trade. "An absentee God, sitting idle ever since the first Sabbath, on the out-
side of the universe, and seeing it go," is not a correct idea of the All-Wise
Being, working actively in every point of space and moment of time. Stagna-
tion means decay in the natural world and death in oil-affairs. The man who
sits in the pasture waiting for the cow to come and be milked will never skim
off the cream. The man who wants to figure as an oil-operator must bounce
the drill and tap the sand and give the stuff a chance to get into the tanks.
Still a youngster in years, the petroleum-colt has distanced the old nags. The
sucker-rod is the pole that knocks the persimmons. The oil-well is the foun-
tain of universal illumination. The walking-beam is the real balance of trade
and of power. The derrick is the badge of enlightenment. Petroleum is the
bright star that shines for all mankind and doesn't propose to be snuffed out or
shoved off the grass. Its past is known, its present may be estimated, but
what Canute dare fence in its future and say : " Thus far shalt thou come and
no farther?"
If there be friendly readers, as they reckon up the score,
Who find these random " Sketches " not a burden and a bore
Too heavy for digestion and too light for solemn lore
Who find a grain of pleasure has been added to their store
By some glad reminiscence of the palmy days of yore,
Or tender recollection of the old friends gone before
Who find some things to cherish and but little to deplore
Good-bye, our voyage ended, we must anchor on the shore.
The last line has been written, all the labor now is o'er,
The task has had sweet relish from the surface to the core ;
The sand-rock is exhausted, for the oil has drain'd each pore,
The derrick stands neglected and we cease to tread its floor ;
My feet are on the threshold and my hands are on the door
The pen falls from my fingers, to be taken up no more.