West Virginia: Its Farms and Forests, Mines and Oil-Wells

Chapter XXI

 CHAPTER XXI The Era of Oil Wells.—The Burning Springs District.— The Little Kanawha. THE DAWNING OF THE ERA of petroleum has thrown an unaccustomed light upon the quiet and lonely forest hills of West Virginia. A century since, the wild deer and the wilder Indian were undisturbed possessors; a little later, the white hunter began to encroach upon those game preserves, shooting with equal zest a fat buck or a tough Indian; then followed the pioneer, or hunter-farmer, to whom the oozing oil was a greasy fluid, useful for sprains or bruises in man or beast, and nothing more. The coal, outcropping in six-foot veins, he could mine for his own use if he found it in his cellar or in a near hill-side; and sometimes he dreamed, that in the dim future, when forests should be scarce and railroads plenty, it might be valuable. Yet he might sell his farm, improvements and all, for five dollars an acre. His vision of enhanced values was far off and unsubstantial, dissipated by the clink of a few present dollars. How changed the scene! In the spring of 1865, an eager crowd of strangers, on horseback and on foot, are threading those narrow valleys, climbing the steep hillsides, searching for signs of upheaval, measuring the dip of the rocks, inspecting appearances of “oil-blossom ,” watching for oil bubbles to rise to the surface on the margins of  west vrgna streams, and noting all acknowledged “indications” of oil. The soil is a secondary consideration; timber is somewhat more important, for fixtures or fuel; coal is really worth prospecting for. The oil seeker passes unobserved the beautiful red bud that crimsons the scene with its bright blossoms; and the wild flowers he tramples carelessly under his feet. As he wanders amid the wild scenery the coup d’œil loses its interest in the prospect for a more profitable coup d’huile. If reminded that the climate is suggestive of Italy, he knows only that Parma is brilliantly illuminated; if told of Greece, he perhaps proffers an investment in the Ionian Isles. Everything is golden, because the lens which magnifies the objects of his vision is a drop of oil. What wonder that agriculture languishes, and that the farmer either goes to drilling, or sells his land and emigrates? The local press tells truly that, “Land is seemingly changing hands by whole counties. Many tracts have been resold two or three times within the past three months—double the cost price at each sale.” Many a quiet farmer has sold his hillside acres for ready money sufficient for the purchase of an equal area of rich Ohio bottom land; and he is well satisfied with the exchange. Others have leased their lands, and are already in receipt of more money than they ever expected to see; yet such cases are few as yet, and confined to two or three localities in which developments have been made. Elsewhere land-owners are hopefully awaiting the progress of the drill, confident of a fortune in the future. Nor are they building “castles in the air;” their hopes seem to be well grounded. While West Virginia has borne with Pennsylvania a reputation as an undoubted oil region, circumstances have rendered the development of each very unequal. Either the incursions of guerillas, or the fear of them, has stopped existing enterprises, during the war of the rebellion, even in the vicinity of the Ohio River; and in the interior, on the upper waters of the Little Kanawha, upon the Elk, and Pocotalico, Great Kanawha, Guyandotte, and Big Sandy, it has been simply impossible to commence operations, and very dangerous and impracticable llewellyn well  to prospect for the best locations, or to make purchases or contracts. More than twenty years ago, in boring for salt on the Little Kanawha, twenty-seven miles above Parkersburg, oil was discovered. In the spring of 1860, S. D. Karnes leased from John D. Rathbone this abandoned salt well, and was remunerated for his efforts by a profitable yield of oil, at the rate of fifty barrels per day. Attention was attracted to the spot, and active operations were commenced by others. In the autumn, a well sunk by J. C. Rathbone astonished the country with a product of three hundred barrels daily, and even vastly more for a few days, the exact quantity (three thousand were...