Class f'iSJ 
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 CDIVRICHT DEPOSIT. 
 
Digitized by tine Internet Arcliive 
 in 2010 with funding from 
 The Library of Congress 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/oldtimesinoildom01brow 
 
George W. Brown 
 
Old Times in Oildom 
 
 By 
 
 Geo. W. Brown 
 
 Being a Series of Chapters in which are Related 
 
 the Writer's Many Personal Elxperien- 
 
 ces, During Fifty Years of Life 
 
 in the Oil Regions. 
 
 FOR SALE BY GEO. W. BROWN. YQUNGSVILLE. PA. 
 
 1911 
 
 The Dkrrick Publishing Company 
 
 Oil City, Pa. 
 
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Pref 
 
 rerace. 
 
 I wish to say to my readers that I have but two reasons for 
 writing this Httle book. The first reason is that eleven articles 
 were written to the Oil City Derrick, some years ago, in the 
 way of correspondence. Then I was requested by the business 
 manager of the Derrick Publishing Company, J. N. Perrine, 
 to write more about "Old Times in Oildom." He explained 
 that they would gladly publish it in book form. 
 
 My second reason is that I wish to enlighten the present 
 generation regarding the many points of difference between 
 the present time and fifty or seventy-five years ago. 
 
 It seems to me to be the duty of those who saw these great 
 changes to hand them down to present and future generations 
 — to those who can never know these things first hand. You 
 will by reading this book learn that it is not a book of fiction, 
 with a single thread running through all of it. Dozens and 
 dozens of different little stories will be found in these brief 
 touches on the history of the progress of our great country 
 and state, and dozens of names of worthy but almost for- 
 gotten people will be found here. 
 
 The reader should thoroughly understand that the first 
 eleven chapters of this book were written in 1896- 1897. The 
 additional chapters were written in 1909. 
 
 G. W. BROWN. 
 
 Youngsville, Pa., July, 1909. 
 
HAULING OIL ON SLEDS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 HAULING OIL ON SLEDS. 
 
 Coleman & Batchelor have just commenced a five years' 
 lumber job at the "old Pennsylvania house," four miles be- 
 low Irvineton. One peculiarity about this business is the 
 fact that the saw mill is on the west side of the Allegheny 
 river, and the shingle mill is on the east side of the river. A 
 tramway is being built three miles back into the lumber woods, 
 where all kinds of timber is found, that flourishes in this 
 climate. They cut all, both hard and soft. The loaded tram 
 cars are drawn by a steam locomotive, and run directly onto a 
 ferry boat, which — ^by the aid of an inch wire — sails across to 
 the mill, where the logs are tumbled into the river, being 
 hitched to and drawn into the mill. This firm has leased the 
 old Pennsylvania house, and a plot of land to pile their lum- 
 ber on to dry. Speaking of this old house, reminds me of the 
 early days of oil transportation. Before a railroad along the 
 Allegheny was even talked of, the oil was transported from 
 Tidioute to Irvineton in barrels. In the spring, summer and 
 fall, large flat boats towed by two, 'three and four horses, 
 in single file, were used to transport the oleaginous treasure 
 from the wells at Tidioute to the P. & E. railroad at Irvineton. 
 This was greasy work for the men, and killing work on the 
 horses. In the fall and spring, when the shore ice was thick 
 and sharp, the poor animals were pushed through the breaking 
 ice, that would about half bear their weight, cutting their legs 
 so severely that the generally clear waters of the Allegheny 
 ran red with their blood. Many a noble horse laid down his 
 life in this savage work. It was no uncommon sight to see 
 the bloated carcasses of horses lodged along the shore. When 
 a faithful equine would give up his life, the owner found it an 
 easier way to dispose of his carcass by floating it oflf into the 
 river than to bury it decently on the shore. But when the ice 
 
8 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 got so solid, in the winter, that it could not be broken by the 
 horses' hoofs, the mode of transportation was on bobsleds, 
 drawn by horses that were not killed in the ice. As the oil 
 wells about Tidioute, on Dennis run in particular, were con- 
 siderably on the gusher order, it required a vast number of 
 teams to transport it. One trip was a good day's work for a 
 team. The loads ranged from six to twelve barrels each. 
 The reader can easily imagine the great necessity for hotels 
 and stabling under these circumstances. The roads were com- 
 pletely lined with teams. It was almost an impossibility for 
 the hosts of teamsters to find board and lodging for them- 
 selves and horses. This was the situation of things when 
 "Jim" Conroe, an old farmer domiciled on the east bank of 
 the Allegheny, took it into his head to show his philaijthropy 
 by building a four-story hotel on the narrow strip of land 
 between the wooded hillslope and the river. He put on all 
 the masons and woodworkers that could find room to work 
 and soon the magnificent Pennsylvania house reared its tall 
 roof skyward, standing on an immense cut stone foundation, 
 and ornamented by huge wooden pillars in front. People 
 were wont to say: "Now will Jim ever get his money back?" 
 Well, Jim did get his money back in about one year. His 
 big hotel filled up every night, as if by magic, and some nights 
 more were turned away than were taken in, and Jim soon 
 found himself rolling in wealth. But an end comes to all 
 good things. Soon the cunning oil producer began to lay 
 pipe lines. Then a railroad, now the W. N. Y. & P., then the 
 Warren and Franklin road, with its iron tank cars (brought 
 into use by the lamented Adna Neyhart), great iron tanks that 
 held the oil until convenient to move it to refineries, lightened 
 the weight of the crude on the ground where it was produced ; 
 pump stations sent the oil through many arteries all over the 
 land, and James Conroe found his great hotel unoccupied by 
 guests. He lived in this hotel with his family until it rotted 
 down over his head. Then this lumber' company came and 
 rented the property, rejuvenated the old hotel, and now three 
 families live under its hospitable roof, and "keep boarders." 
 Conroe, the builder, has moved out, and now contentedly 
 spends his waning years on the fine old farm above Dunn's 
 eddy, known as the "Dave Crull farm." Such are a few of 
 the changes in the great oil business. Oil cost something those 
 
STAGING TO OIL CITY. 9 
 
 days. The fortunate owner of a gusher was obliged to pay 
 $2 each for his barrels, and $1 for hauling, a smart sum 
 for storage at the railroad depot, and high freights to the rail- 
 road corporations, which had not learned to respect this new 
 oil business. 
 
 If the eye of any of those old teamsters happens to fall on 
 this, they will recollect the late James Patterson, who checked 
 their loads of oil at Irvineton. Many a belated teamster 
 came after Mr. Patterson had "shut up shop" for the night. 
 The most urgent entreaties of these teamsters, asking Mr. 
 Patterson to check their loads, was invariably answered by, "I 
 cawn't do it," and the poor fellows — many of whom wished 
 to go elsewhere for the night — were obliged to linger until 
 morning. 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 STAGING BEFORE RAILROADS WERE A BLESSING 
 TO OIL CITY. 
 
 When the Atlantic & Great Western railway extended its 
 Oil City branch (or Franklin branch as it was called at that 
 time) to Franklin, the author, w^ho, at that time, was helping 
 to supply Smith & Allison, the only lumber yard owners in 
 Oil City, with boards and shingles, was making almost weekly 
 trips to the "Hub of Oildom." On one of these trips he took 
 his wife along to let her see the beauties of oildom, as the 
 beauties shown forth at that time. 
 
 Well, one very cold winter's morning w^e took the P. & E. 
 accommodation to Corry. Here we changed "cars" for Mead- 
 ville. A rather pleasant ride on the old Atlantic & Great 
 Western soon landed us in a great covered depot in Meadville. 
 After a first-class dinner at the McHenry house, that great 
 structure so well known to old-time oil men, where for $1 the 
 hungry traveler could be feasted as sumptuously as at any of 
 the great hotels of New York. Alas for all vanishing things. 
 How the greatness of the McHenry house has fallen, once the 
 white-aproned colored waiter flourished, now rats, and I was 
 on the point of saying, owls find a home. We took passage 
 
lo OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 on the "Franklin branch" for that "Nursery of Great Men" — 
 Frankhn. No "Exchange hotel" at that time (in fact no 
 Mitchell lived there to build one.) We, wife and I, put up 
 at the United States hotel, Franklin's pride in the hotel line. 
 After partaking of a very palatable supper, we were consigned 
 to the only vacant room in the house; but after being piloted 
 in devious ways among cots by the dozen, placed in the parlor 
 and halls in every nook and corner by the accommodating 
 porter, we found that we were in a room without lock or 
 fastener of any kind. I did not feel safe, but my wife, the 
 courageous woman that she always was, said, "Let the door 
 go without fastening; no one will hurt us." With slight mis- 
 givings, I fell asleep that night to be awakened about three 
 o'clock in the morning by a man crawling around on the floor 
 of our sleeping apartment. (Don't get alarmed reader, noth- 
 ing is going to happen. ) I raised on my elbow and also raised 
 my voice in a courageous tone, and demanded of the intruder 
 his business in our room. The incoherent muttering of the 
 supposed culprit soon convinced us that the poor fellow was 
 a victim of old King Alcohol, and that he was on the verge 
 of the "jim jams." He was no criminal, simply in a dazed 
 condition. Several other men have been in the same condition 
 from the same cause. The next morning we took passage 
 on the stage for Oil City. Five dollars was the modest charge 
 for two of us. This would have been less burdensome if not 
 for the fact that the male passengers were obliged to jump out 
 many times and help extricate the wheels of the stage from 
 the deep, frozen "chuck holes." In fact, we not only helped 
 lift the wheels out of these holes, but many times we walked 
 along for quite a distance with our shoulders to the vehicle in 
 sometimes vain endeavor to keep the stage wheels clear of 
 those deep holes. After a short sojourn at the "Gibson house," 
 which would not compare favorably with the pride of Oil 
 City, the Arlington, in size and accommodation, but in good 
 cheer its full equal, myself and wife concluded we would reach 
 railway accommodations by a different route than the one we 
 came. The route chosen was up Oil Creek "by stage" to the- 
 Shaffer farm, where the "Oil Creek railroad" then had its 
 terminus. Profiting by my experience while getting from 
 Franklin to Oil City, I very gallantly paid $5 for my wife's 
 "stage fare" to the Shaffer farm, and "hoofed it" on terra 
 
STAGING TO OIL CITY. ii 
 
 firma myself. You readers may think this is a sort of "buck- 
 wheat,, arrangement to save $5. Nothing of the kind. This^ 
 arrangement had a twofold advantage, in fact, a triplefold ad- 
 vantage. First, it was much easier for a man to walk from 
 Oil City to Shaffer farm than to try to hang on to a "stage 
 and ride" ; second, my "better half" was much safer with her 
 faithful husband walking by the side of the jostling, tipping, 
 rattling "stage," ready with his strong arms to arrest the 
 movement of the stage when it would be standing on two 
 wheels, ready to fall on its side; and third, there was only 
 room in the crowded thing called a "stage" for the female 
 travelers. The ladies were afflicted with a harum-scarum boy 
 for a driver, who would lash his horses into the numerous 
 crossings of Oil Creek, without any regard to whether the ice 
 was thick enough to hold them up or just thin enough to let 
 them go through with a smash and a crash. Such driving I 
 never witnessed before or since. It was really a relief to all 
 concerned when the carriage, stage, wagon or whatever it 
 might be called, broke down with a crash when two miles be- 
 low Shaffer farm. I never saw a more willing set of travelers 
 than those ladies. They never knew what a comfort it was 
 to have a genuine breakdown before. When the cars were 
 sighted, a happier set of ladies were not met with on Oil Creek 
 than those who were just released from the perils of Oil Creek 
 stage travel. All got to the train on time except one "smart" 
 young man and his best girl. The young man had more con- 
 fidence in his time piece than in others carried by experienced 
 travelers and insisted on all taking a slower gate. All got on 
 the train "just in time" except this "smarty," who had the 
 fun of seeing the train move off, not to return for him and 
 his girl until the next day. In this age of progress, let the 
 passenger of those days answer whether there is an improve- 
 ment when he now lies down in a luxurious berth of a Pull- 
 man sleeper and glides along the crooked, winding Oil Creek, 
 without a jar. 
 
12 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 OIL CREEK POND "FRESH." 
 
 The young people don't know, and the older ones have 
 nearly forgotten, when walking over the smooth, hard brick 
 pavements of Oil City, what a change science and hard knocks 
 have brought about. Let the reader look backward a few 
 years — what do we see? We see a sea of thick mud in all 
 the streets of Oil City, the depth of which could only be 
 guessed at. The writer at one time stood on the corner near 
 the First M. E. church (which was burned years ago) and 
 saw, with his own eyes, three unfortunate horses floundering 
 flat in the very deep mud, with as many gangs of men trying 
 to tow the poor brutes to one side of the street, where the 
 mud was not quite as deep as in the middle of this muddy 
 canal. Now, mind, these horses were all down at the same 
 time, in three different directions, all in plain sight of the cor- 
 ner spoken of above. One of the horses was owned and 
 driven by the only Tom Hecker, who is known to every 
 man, woman and child in Oil City, and who, from almost time 
 immemorial, has raised chickens and took toll at the north 
 end of the Suspension bridge. Tom can tell you about mud 
 and Oil City pond freshets. 
 
 Fearing that the unsophisticated readers may not know 
 what a pond freshet is, I will say that the mode of gettine 
 the oil from the big wells along Oil Creek to the Allegheny 
 river was by towing boats and barges up Oil Creek to the 
 wells along the banks on either side with horses, then running 
 the oil from the wooden tanks into these boats, in bulk. Tube 
 works were not heard of those days in this section, and the 
 pipes that conveyed the oil from the tanks to the boat were 
 generally made of boards, planks or anything that happened 
 to be lying around loose. When all the owners of boats were 
 ready, and they were legion, the chutes on all dams above Ti- 
 tusville would be cut. Then came the rushing waters, ropes 
 that held the loaded boats to the shores would be cut and the 
 mad race for the Allegheny would be on. No old pencil of 
 mine can describe the scene. Little and big bulk boats would 
 fight their way down the rushing waters, endways, sideways- 
 
OIL CREEK POND FRESH. . 13 
 
 and in all shapes, these boats would heave in sight of the 
 shanty town of Oil City. The old bridge across the mouth of 
 the creek would be black with people who flocked from the 
 rough board shanties, called houses, to see one of the sights 
 of the world, such a sight as was never seen before and never 
 will be seen again. I witnessed one of these runs which ended 
 very disastrously. The first boat to reach the bridge was one 
 carrying 400 barrels of oil, in bulk. The boat and oil was 
 owned by an old Oil City citizen named Turner. He didn't 
 turn that boat and cargo into money. The forward end of 
 the boat struck a rock a few rods above the bridge, swung 
 around and sailed up against the middle pier of the old bridge, 
 the middle of the boat striking the pier. Turner's boat came 
 around the pier in two pieces, and his oil painted the river 
 green from shore to shore. But if the show had ended here a 
 vast amount of money would have been saved. The first boat 
 that cleared the old creek bridge safely stuck on the river bar, 
 out in front of the mouth of the creek. The river was low, and 
 the creek high, consequently the hundreds of boats piled up 
 against each other until the creek was a great drift pile from 
 the bar in the river, to quite a distance above the Lake Shore 
 tunnel. As the oil was slashing around loose in all these 
 boats it was as amusing to the observer as it was dangerous 
 to the boatmen to see the oil, when the boat would smash into 
 the jam, go surging from the rear to the front of the boat, 
 there to pour into the waters of the Allegheny. As may be 
 imagined, this general smashup was a great loss to the owners 
 of the boats and oil. Tens of thousands of barrels of oil covered 
 the surface of the river from shore to shore. This vast 
 amount of oil, as it floated Pittsburgward, made the Allegheny 
 one great river of green. 
 
 Old Oil City settlers will bear me out in saying that the 
 young dudes and dudesses of the far-famed Hub missed one of 
 the greatest sights that falls to the lot of mortals to behold by 
 being born too late to see an Oil Creek oil pond freshet. And 
 now here is where the irrepressible Tom Hecker comes in 
 again. When Tom saw that so much beautiful green grease 
 had got away from the owners he improvised a small dam 
 near the old Moran house, gathered a lot of barrels on short 
 notice and, as oil was about $10 a barrel at that time, he 
 cleared about $900 on this afternoon's work. 
 
14 OLD TIMES IN 01 LOOM. 
 
 One word about the price of real estate in those muddy 
 times. The Hon. William Hasson offered to sell me one- 
 quarter of an acre of land where the postoffice now stands for 
 $200. I could have borrowed the money and paid for it, 
 but my dim vision could see nothing in it. My neighbors, J. C. 
 and D. Mead, took the venture and paid the $200, built 
 the very substantial "Mead hotel," which cost them the sum of 
 $500. They sold out in a year for $5,000. While they were 
 building their hotel the Mead brothers urged me to take the 
 quarter acre lot adjoining their hotel lot at $200, but my 
 business capacity was not equal to the occasion, and I never 
 became an Oil City lot owner. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 PITHOLE HOTEL AND LIVERY CHARGES. 
 
 A few words about teaming. The word teaming meant 
 something when Oil City was a shanty town. The soft 
 alluvial soil on the Hasson flats was good material to form 
 mortar beds of, when nothing could be moved without that 
 faithful servant of man — the horse — and as business boomed 
 to such an extent that thousands of horses were needed to 
 keep things moving, the flats soon became, in a rainy time, one 
 mammoth mudhole. 
 
 Now, to illustrate things, and to give the modern reader 
 a slight idea of the cost of doing things at the time of which 
 I write I will give an account of my first oil venture. I was 
 taken in as a partner of J. C. & D. Mead, to operate a lease 
 on Cherry run, about a half mile above Rouseville. I owned 
 a quarter interest and unanimously elected superintendent. 
 Well, to make a long story short, the first well was finished at 
 a cost of about $9,000. The reader may think that there was 
 mismanagement on the part of the superintendent in running 
 up such a bill as that in putting down one well in "shallow 
 territory." After an explanation, the reader will think dif- 
 ferent. The teaming was the great factor in the big expense 
 account. In the first place, a boiler was drawn onto the ground 
 by four span of horses at $18 a span. Then after trying to 
 drill a few weeks, the fact leaked out that there were not 
 
PIT HOLE HOTEL AND LIVERY CHARGES. 15 
 
 enough flues inside the boiler and the old sawlog-shaped thing 
 was hustled aside and a new $2,000 boiler put in its place. This 
 last venture was satisfactory. That high priced boiler was 
 equal to the task of making the steam to keep the unweildy 
 old second-hand engine in motion. But now let us look again 
 at the cost of this $9,000 job. Here is where the text "team- 
 ing" comes in again. This big boiler would not boil without 
 heat, and to make heat wood or coal was required, and as 
 wood was about $5 a cord delivered, we used coal, Cranberry 
 coal. From the mines to our oil well was one great river of 
 very stiff mud. This coal was hauled on wagons, to which 
 was hitched three span of horses, and we paid the very modest 
 little price of $1.25 per bushel. The owners of the coal were 
 not unreasonable in charging what seems, in these days of 
 railroads, a big steal. The sellers of this coal were fair 
 dealers. They could not get the coal out of the crude Cran- 
 berry mines and haul it through this deep mud as fast as the 
 green operators would take it at $1.25 per bushel. Well, the 
 reader can see, without glasses, that this kind of work kept 
 up for several weeks, with the little light tools of those days, 
 could very easily reach the $9,000 mark. Scientific operators 
 of today will wonder whether this company of Mead & Brown 
 came off winners or losers. The answer is neither. Oil was 
 $3.50 per barrel and the well panned out about 25 barrels a 
 day, and kept up this production until the company sold out 
 and were neither winners nor losers, from a financial stand- 
 point. But in an educational point of view, the company 
 were the gainers. They came off with a few hundred dol- 
 lars' worth of experience. 
 
 Another leaf from my own experience will help along with 
 this article with "teaming" for the text. 
 
 Mead & Co. (which means ourself and Nelson Mead, now of 
 Corydon, Pa.,) leased a building lot on a back street at Pit- 
 hole City and built a store house, of the rough order, on said lot. 
 We were obliged to flatboat our lumber and material down the 
 Allegheny from Irvineton to McCray's Landing, a noted com- 
 mercial point at that time. From the landing to Pithole City, 
 four miles, was found a typical oil country mudhole. We 
 (Mead & Co.) paid $20 per thousand to have our lumber 
 hauled and delivered on our speculative building lot. The store 
 room went up with a rush, at a cost of $800. When completed 
 
i6 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 we were offered $i,8oo for the building. We wanted $2,000 
 for it. Our customer wanted us to give him three days to 
 think about it. We gave the time. At the end of three days 
 he had dropped $800 and offered us $1,000. After a hurried 
 consultation, Mead & Co. concluded that at this rate of 
 dropping off, it would not take a very long time to get below 
 cost. So we closed the bargain, content with $200 profit on 
 our venture. Our customer gave us $650 cash down and a 
 bank note due in 30 days for $350. At the end of 30 days 
 when Mead & Co. called at the then waning oil metropolis, 
 our customer wanted to give us the property for the $350 note. 
 As we were not anxious to buy Pithole City property on the 
 <ieclining valuation, we refused the generous offer, and called 
 on the bank and drew our $350. Mead & Co. were not a 
 grasping corporation and their kind hearts could not be 
 brought to the point of taking a $1,000 property for $350. 
 
 To show the reader that horseback riding was a luxury 
 those days, to be paid for as well as teaming, I will say I 
 hired a little bit of horseflesh, with a saddle on, one day, dur- 
 ing my business career in Pithole, for the purpose of riding 
 four miles, to McCray's Landing and return. When the trip 
 was finished, the liveryman, who was not stopping at Pithole 
 for his health, charged me $5. I told the dealer in horses 
 that I did not intend to buy the horse, but only to pay for the 
 use of it about two hours. A glance at the man's face showed 
 that he meant business and I handed over the fiver without fur- 
 ther protest. When I took into consideration the fact that I 
 had, that very morning, paid 75 cents to a hotel man for 
 sleeping in a haymow in a barn, without even a blanket, I 
 came to the conclusion that the liveryman was quite reasonable 
 in his charges, and was only keeping abreast of the times. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 GEN. BURNSIDE'S RAILROAD. 
 
 The young citizens and part of the old of Oil City, while 
 enjoying the blessings of four railroads, may not know the 
 difiicutly under which outside capitalists labored in bringing 
 the present state of affairs about. I well remember that when 
 
GEN. BURNSIDE'S RAILROAD. 17 
 
 the Atlantic & Great Western built a branch of their road 
 from Meadville to Reno, the management found themselves 
 "up a stuiiip" when reaching the sacred precincts of the "Hub." 
 The "city fathers" would not let a noisy and smoky railroad 
 come into the golden "streets" of Oil City. The muddy streets 
 and the creek and river were good enough for them. Besides, 
 there was "no room on the narrow flats for railroad tracks." 
 The city of Reno was not quite large enough for a great rail- 
 road terminus, so a railroad was built from Reno to Plumer'. 
 The city of Plumer was the terminus. Oil City, with its short 
 sighted and high-toned council, was left out in the cold. I had 
 the pleasure of riding from Franklin to Plumer several times 
 on this picturesque and expensive railroad. I am not exactly 
 sure as to the distance from Reno to Plumer, but I think it 
 was about 16 miles. This is not as the crows fly, but as the 
 surveyors laid out the road. The route ran toward Dempsey- 
 town for several miles, when the top of the mountain was 
 reached. Here a station was built, and a prospective town laid 
 out in lots (Oil City speculators did not tumble over each 
 other to buy lots) ; then down grade for a few more miles 
 brought the road over dangerous looking trestles plump into 
 McClintockville, then up through Rouseville and on up Cherry 
 Run to Plumer, the terminus of the only railroad in this great 
 oil region. 
 
 Coming down the mountain side from the direction of 
 Dempseytown to McClintockville, a passenger could get a 
 peep at a part of Oil City. The part that could be seen seemed 
 to almost hide its head in shame at the thought that Reno, 
 Dempseytown, McClintockville, Rouseville, Cherry run, the 
 Humboldt refinery and Plumer could have a railroad, but the 
 greasy, busy Hub of Oildom could not have one . The city 
 council and everybody else were obliged to get out of the city 
 on a raft, flatboat, wagon, horseback or afoot, while Plum- 
 erites could take a seat for New York or any city, on a soft 
 cushion in a railway passenger coach. Of course the haughty 
 citizen of Plumer was abliged to "change cars" at Reno, from 
 the standard guage to the (then) six-foot guage of the Atlan- 
 tic & Great Western. But what of that? Could they not 
 glide down Cherry run and up through several townships 
 over the mountain to Reno, with the serene satisfaction of 
 knowing that poor little Oil City had no railroad connection 
 
i8 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 with the outer world? Well, the reader may say, "Who was 
 so short sighted as to build a road with such grades, when Oil 
 City, with its commanding location, was sure to become quite 
 a railroad center in no great length of time, regardless of near- 
 sighted rulers?" I cannot answer that question — I can say 
 that a man of great renown was president of the Plumer road. 
 
 The only time that I ever had the pleasure of seeing Gren- 
 eral Burnside was when he was seated on a pile of ties, on a 
 flat car, or gondola, making strenuous efforts to get over the 
 road, of which he was president. Two of these flat cars, 
 partly loaded with ties, were hitched to a fine, new locomotive. 
 Three times the start was made from Reno, and three times 
 these two cars were backed down to the junction at Reno, for 
 a new start, after having labored up the mountain side a mile 
 or two. The fourth time the summit was gained, up among 
 the Venago county farms, and the great general soon found 
 himself and directors flying down over the dangerous look- 
 ing gullies to the raging Oil Creek. I never heard the gen- 
 eral's report after this patient ride, but very likely it was not 
 very encouraging to the stockholders of his oil country rail- 
 road. 
 
 Speaking of Plumer railroads reminds me of the old Pithole 
 railroad. This was a six-foot guage, and it came to the very 
 doors of Plumer. Little can be said of this road, only that it 
 was built from the mouth of Pithole creek to the mushroom 
 town of a few month's duration, Pithole City. When the city 
 moved out the railroad moved out also. Plumer was tapped 
 on both sides by new railroads, but they did not stick. Just 
 imagine passenger trains running four trips a day from Pit- 
 hole City to the mouth of Pithole creek. It is not likely that 
 one passenger a day would pass over the road at the present 
 time. The superintendent of the road, Blair, for many years 
 superintendent of the Shenango road, kindly gave me a free 
 pass over the four-mile road, but it ceased operation before 
 T had an opportunity to use it, and the pass died on my hands. 
 Before closing this No. 5 chapter, I wish to give the business 
 youth of to-day a hint in regard to the cost of doing business 
 in those days. I bought a quarter interest in one acre of oil 
 land at Pithole, on which some men were trying to put down 
 a well with a spring pole. In other words, they were trying 
 to "kick it down." I did not know the exact location of my 
 
JAMES S. McCRAY. 19 
 
 purchase, so I hied me away to Franklin to get a view of the 
 docket. I found the clerk in the register and recorder's office 
 and made known my business to him. I wished a copy of the 
 lease. The clerk was driven with business. He was flying 
 around in a great hurry. He said, "Can you give me the day 
 of the month and the year when this lease was recorded?" I 
 told him I could give the year but I had not the month and 
 day. He said "I can't find it with that direction, but if you 
 will give me $50 I will try to find it." As I had no $50 bill 
 in my vest pocket at that certain time and as I had more time 
 to fool away than the clerk seemed to have, I asked for a loan 
 of his index for a short time. He rather reluctantly handed 
 me the desired book and within the next 50 minutes I had a 
 copy of the Pithole lease and felt somewhat as if I had done 
 $50 worth of business in just 50 minutes. Court house tips 
 those days were worth looking after. 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 JAMES S. McCRAY. 
 
 This article will treat upon Petroleum Center when it was 
 a second Pithole City. You readers, who have not been an 
 eye witness to the lively scenes that I am about to relate, have 
 heard more or less about ancient Petroleum Center. The way- 
 farer, in passing the quiet little hamlet now on a swift running 
 W. N. Y. & P. train, don't see the surging, bustling, mixed-up 
 masses of humanity that once thronged the streets. Your 
 oldest readers will, perhaps, remember that about the time 
 Pithole City made such a sudden fizzle. Petroleum Center 
 dawned on the oil country scene like a meteor. The Maple 
 Shade well and Coquette well, flowing their thousands of 
 barrels per day of high priced oil, set the whole oil country 
 wild, and soon the town of half a hundred had a population 
 that ran into thousands, and what kind of a population was 
 it? Well, that is a hard question to answer. It was com- 
 posed of all classes, from the murderer to the minister of the 
 gospel. The thugs, gamblers and soiled doves were in the 
 majority. About 200 of the latter came down from the fast 
 
20 -OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 waning Pithole City and took up their abode in Petroleum 
 Center's dance houses, of which there were about a half dozen, 
 free and easies and other "houses." The male population, was 
 but little better than the female and Petroleum Center was a 
 "daisy town." Murder was among the crimes committed 
 here and the lesser felonies can never be enumerated. Still, 
 many good Christian people found themselves surrounded 
 by this wicked population. Three churches went up like 
 magic. Methodist Episcopal, Presbyterian and Catholic 
 churches; also a very creditable school building. I will speak 
 in particular of the Presbyterian church as I took the con- 
 tract of building it. The late James S. McCray, who, when 
 alive, was known to every oil operator from Allegany, N. Y., 
 to Lima, O., was chairman of the building committee. "Jim," 
 as all called him, had a little income of $5 a minute, night 
 and day, Sundays and all, from his hillside farm, circulated a 
 subscription paper to raise $6,500, the cost of the church. Dr. 
 Egbert headed the list with $1,000 and "Jim" followed with 
 a like amount and two others, whose names have gone from 
 my memory, came down with four figures, and in less than a 
 day the whole amount was raised. McCray collected the 
 money as he went along, and took it home with him the same 
 night, put it under the pillow of his brother-in-law for safe 
 keeping, but one or more of Petroleum Center's crooks slip- 
 ped a little chloroform in through the window and slipped the 
 great wad of greenbacks out, and in the morning nothing but 
 a strong smell of cholorform and a very sick brother-in-law 
 was found in the room. 
 
 The thieves had a gay time among the dance houses on 
 this church money, and "Jim" paid for the church from his 
 own pocket with as good grace as could be expected. His 
 time, at the period I speak of, was so much taken up in look- 
 ing after his big income that he let the matter drop, after just 
 a little ineffectual scolding. 
 
 I mention just an incident or two that will show up the 
 oddities of this sometime millionaire. (This is the amount 
 that he could have placed his farm in a stock for at one time.) 
 During the period of two months while my carpenters were 
 building the church, Jim frequently invited me to accompany 
 him to his home, nearly a mile from town, on the mountain 
 slope. I often accepted his hospitality. (He was a second 
 
JAMES S. McCRAY. 21 
 
 cousin of mine and a very cheerful relative.) On a very 
 dark night on one of these trips, as we wended our way up 
 through the woods, we were a little alarmed by hearing a 
 pistol shot a few rods ahead of us. We naturally thought 
 that as there were but two of us and four of them that we 
 would get the worst of it if that pistol shot meant war onus. We 
 were somewhat relieved in mind when we met the four men, 
 and they passed along without paying the least attention to 
 the man of money. We never knew who the men were or 
 what caused the pistol shot. When we were fairly away from 
 the men and by the sound of their voices were convinced that 
 they were at a safe distance Mr. McCray gave vent to his 
 feelings in the following words : "I wish there had never been 
 a drop of oil found on Oil Creek. I can't sleep nights. My 
 dog makes a fearful fuss nearly every night, as if some prow- 
 lers were about. And I can't come up through these brush 
 without expecting a club over my head, handled by some of 
 these wretches who would murder me for my money." After 
 Ave had safely reached his fireside I mentioned his big in- 
 come from his 400-barrel wells, and oil at $3.00 per barrel. 
 Jim took his pencil and figured a while, then he said : "My 
 income is $5.00 a minute; if I had figured on this before we 
 left town I would have hired a livery rig to bring us up." 
 The next morning I was out of bed at quite an earh^ hour. 
 About sunrise — before breakfast — casting my eyes in the- 
 direction of one of Mr. McCray's many meadows, I saw a 
 wagon load of hay coming toward the barn and Jim was 
 AA^alking along hebind the load with a pitchfork on his shoulder. 
 He had glanced out of his sleeping room, at daybreak, and 
 .saw clouds gathering; then he hustled his hired man to the 
 fields Avith a wagon and horses to save a load of hay that was 
 liable to get spoiled if rain came. He pitched the load on the 
 wagon himself. At another time I found him in one of his 
 fields, in his shirt sleeves, digging green sprouts away from 
 the oak stumps. He was covered with perspiration, and al- 
 most breathlessly, he told me that he had been "making fence 
 and digging sprouts for two weeks, and was not quite done with 
 the job yet." At this time he said ; "I have 100,000 barrels 
 of oil, and I am offered $4.50 per barrel. I have it in tanks, 
 and I will hold it until it sweats through the iron before I take 
 less than $5 a barrel for it." He afterward sold it for $1.12 
 
22 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 a barrel, when much of it had been wasted by leakage and 
 evaporation. There was only one James S. McCray. Of all 
 the Oil Creek and other farm owners who were suddenly 
 made rich by the oil business none were better known, and 
 none were more honest and upright in their dealings with all. 
 His word was as good as his bond. 
 
 And now, "one on myself" will not be out of place. When 
 getting the lumber on the ground for this church I found 
 much difficulty. No railroad passed through Petroleum Cen- 
 ter at that time. The framing timber of the church had to be 
 rafted and floated to Oil City, then towed with horses up Oil 
 Creek to Petroleum Center. The lumber was billed to Pioneer, 
 a mile above Petroleum Center. Then came the rub, to get 
 this lumber down the creek through mud to the hubs of the 
 wagon. A consrtuction train was at work building a side- 
 track on the Boyd farm, across the creek opposite Petroleum 
 Center. I slipped a $20 bill into the hand of the conductor 
 of the construction train and bribed him to hitch three lumber 
 cars to the rear of his gravel train and pull them down that 
 mile. As there was no side-track at Boyd farm I got men 
 enough to unload my lumber as quick as the railroad employees 
 unloaded the gravel car. Thus, the conductor got his $20 and 
 did not lose one minute of time. Twenty dollars was a 
 "right smart" price for handling one coupling pin, but I saved 
 about $50 by the transaction. But the reader has not seen 
 the "one on myself" yet. Here it is : All this business kept 
 me in this wicked town a part of the time. I stopped at the 
 American hotel — a v^ry good oil country hotel, that has long 
 since disappeared. One night a dance was given for the bene- 
 fit of the guests. The music was furnished by one of the 
 dance house bands ; three nice looking and very excellent musi- 
 cians made the melody for the occasion. I was something of 
 a violinist those days, and I played a few sets to rest these 
 musicians, while they took a whirl at the "giddy mazes of 
 the dance." Those three young men said they were not of the 
 class that danced after their music, but they were far from 
 home and were getting as much out of their accomplishments 
 as possible, but that they would be sorry to let their mothers, 
 away in the east, know the quality of their employers. I 
 had no right to doubt their word and don't now. Now comes 
 the joke. The next evening I was passing along the busy 
 
JAMES S. McCRAY. 23 
 
 street and those melodious strains of music of the night before 
 floated into my ears through the open door of a "dance 
 house." I promised myself, when a boy, to never enter one 
 of these places, and never had broken my promise. I could 
 see my virtuous friends making music with piano, horn and 
 violin and felt like speaking to them. I stood for a few 
 moments undecided. Just two nights before that time a man 
 had been shot and killed in a ''dance hall" a little farther up 
 the street. My thoughts told me that if I should go in there, 
 and break my promise, if anybody would be shot it would be 
 me. But for all this the music got the best of me, and I 
 stepped in and greeted my newly-made musical friends. I was 
 immediately asked to take the violin and "play a set." Well, 
 I thought I could not get much lower, so I took the proffered 
 instrument and lef off, and disgraced the best quadrille I knew. 
 While the music of my violin floated on the air, very much 
 scented, assisted by the skillful manipulations of the piano 
 and cornet, my mind was busy. It was more troubled than 
 ever was Dr. Parkhurst when visiting such places. Just as I 
 was thing that if I should be shot and carried home to 
 my wife a corpse the history of the occurrence in the news- 
 papers would not be gratifying to my relatives, a big fight 
 took place, and one man was knocked down and I could hear 
 the blood spilling and gurgling from his wounds. The danc- 
 ing girls came running back, dodging behind the piano, cry- 
 ing out," They will shoot! they will shoot!" Then I thought 
 my time had come to atone for breaking my promise to my- 
 self. And as the piano legs were not large enough to protect 
 the dancers and musicians, both, I opened a door behind the 
 music stand, not knowing where it led to, and stepped out 
 into God's pure air. By a flank movement I got around to the 
 front street and to my hotel, with a new promise to myself, 
 that as this was the first "dance hall' visited by me it would 
 also be the last, and I have kept the promise. 
 
24 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 THE GRANDINS AND J. B. WHITE. 
 
 I want to say something about the Grandins and J. B. 
 White. The Grandins, aided by their immense amount of 
 cash, always turned what at first promises to be a losing game 
 into piles of money. Here is an instance : A few years ago 
 they sent the Hon. J. B. White of Yougsville, into the state 
 of Missouri to buy yellow pine timber land. Mr. White was 
 as full of energ}^ "as an tgg is full of meat," and ere long he 
 had a deed for about 70,000 acres of land nicely covered with 
 a fine quality of yellow pine. Then, under the superintendency 
 of Mr. White, an immense mill was built, and millions of 
 feet of lumber manufactured. But this lumber had to be 
 drawn on wagons over 10 miles to reach a railroad. Under 
 the circumstances the cost almost kept pace with the income. 
 And now comes the point where their capital came into good 
 play. They took a large amount of stock in a projected rail- 
 road and insured the building of it. The road ran 2y miles 
 through their pine timber. I was told by one of the brothers 
 that now they make a profit of $8 per thousand on their tim- 
 ber, and each dollar counts $1,000,000 on the whole lot. In 
 other words, $1 per thousand makes a million dollars on the 
 estimated amount of their timber. They will make $8,ooo,- 
 000 on a transaction that would have broken 20 men with- 
 out capital. The old saying that "it takes money to make 
 money," is fully proved here. Another novelty in their way 
 of doing business vv^ill no doubt be interesting to many of my 
 readers. In their travels all over the United States they never 
 kept an expense account. The late Adna Neyhart, their 
 brother-in-law, the gentleman who first introduced the busi- 
 ness of transporting oil in tank cars, was a partner of the 
 three Grandin brothers. Neither of the quartette ever wasted 
 ink and paper by keeping track of travelling expenses when 
 abroad. Each had perfect confidence in all the others. 
 
 Now, I will finish this article by a couple of allusions of a 
 couple of quite noted men. The first is ex-Senator James 
 McMullen. Til tell you how he commenced his career in oil- 
 dom. "Jim," as he was familiarly called years ago, was quite 
 
THE GRANDINS AND J. B. WHITE. 25. 
 
 an expert blacksmith at Warren, Pa. When the great oil 
 strikes set the whole country nearty crazy Jim packed his kit 
 of blacksmith tools and his household goods and made good 
 time on a raft to Oil City. The author of this book was at 
 that time second mate on a flat boat, which was propelled by 
 very much jaded horses up and down the raging waters of 
 Oil Creek. As there were no roads to speak of and mud ga- 
 lore the early pioneers in oildom were only too glad to avail 
 themselves of this greasy mode of transportation. Jim Mc- 
 Mullen was among the number that piled their "flittin" on the 
 bottom of our greasy oil boat. We landed the goods safely, 
 but not clean enough to brag on, at McClintockville, where 
 Jim had built a rude blacksmith shop and dwelling house. 
 About the first thing attended to was a "house warming." 
 Then the musical ability of the "second mate" was brought 
 into play. He, with the assistance of another music mur- 
 derer, reeled off the "Opera Reel," "Money Musk," "Crooked 
 S," "Chase the Squirrel," and other scientific pieces of music 
 all night long for the lads and lassies of the then busy Mc- 
 Clintockville, while putting in their biggest licks in the way of 
 dancing "hoedowns." Music sailed around through the air 
 in that hemlock shanty in great chunks. Music from Cole- 
 man's orchestra w^ould dwindle down into nothing compared 
 to ours. Well, all my Oil City readers will know that genuine 
 genius cannot be kept in a hemlock blacksmith shop and "Jim'' 
 rose rapidly. 
 
 The first time I had the pleasure of looking at "Johnny" 
 Steele was at Rouseville, after he had "blowed in" his million 
 and a half dollars. He was seated on a high spring seat of 
 an oil wagon, driving a black team of horses. The wagon was 
 loaded with barrels filled with crude oil. Johnny was com- 
 placently smoking a cigar. At that time I was a correspon- 
 dent of the Erie Morning Dispatch. I wrote him up. The 
 item raised Johnny's "dander," but he did not know who to 
 vent his wrath upon. A few months after that Johnny was 
 the trusted baggagemaster of the Oil Creek railroad. One 
 day Conductor "Pap" Richards said to me : "I wish you would 
 interview John and set him right in the Dispatch. There are 
 so many — exaggerated reports going the rounds of the news- 
 papers that he is terribly annoyed. Tell him that I sent you to- 
 him." I called upon the baggagemaster, introduced myself ac- 
 
26 . OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 cording to Conductor Richard's instructions. Johnny opened 
 up in dead earnest. His talk, as near as I can recollect, ran 
 in this wise : "I will give you all the information that you 
 ask, but it makes me mad to see the d — d fool reports in the 
 papers. A d — d fool wrote me up last spring in the Erie 
 Dispatch. He said I was hauling oil in a black greasy wagon, 
 with a cigar in my mouth and a lot of other fool trash. D — n 
 him, he was drunk all the time he was here — if ever I get sight 
 of him I'll thrash him." I did not feel like telling Johnny that 
 I never was drunk in my life, for the very good reason that I 
 never took a drink of that which intoxicates. So I let him 
 remain in ignorance as to who the Dispatch correspondent 
 was. And now, to make this article not too lengthy, I will 
 briefly give Steele's story : 
 
 "I will give you the correct statement for the Dispatch. The 
 newspapers throughout the country have been saying that I 
 hired a fine carriage in Philadelphia for a ride and when I 
 returned to my hotel I bought the whole outfit and presented 
 it to the driver. And on another occasion I rented the Con- 
 tinental hotel for one day — paying $10,000 as rental. The 
 papers told too many other foolish stories about me to repeat 
 here. I simply say that these reports are all false. The cause 
 of the disappearance of my fortune in so short a time was 
 sharpers taking advantage of my inexperience. They cleaned 
 me out before I was aware of the fact. (At this point in his 
 recital Johnny gave the names of some of the rogues that 
 robbed him — I will omit their names.) After my large for- 
 tune was gone I made a solemn resolve, in my own mind, to be 
 a frugal and industrious man the rest of my natural life. I 
 have kept this self-made promise, and during the past few 
 years I have paid for a home, paid for a team and outfit and 
 I have a snug little bank account. I intend to reclaim a small 
 part of my lost fortune and all of my good name." 
 
 While Mr. Steele was talking he impressed me favorably. 
 His whole demeanor showed very plainly that he was no 
 ordinary man. And his words and every action proved this. 
 He was a faithful and favorite employee of the Oil Creek rail- 
 road when it required a good and competent man to attend 
 to the business of baggagemaster at the then busy Rouseville 
 depot. I was told that he had secured a more lucrative and 
 important situation on some western railroad. There never 
 
A NARROW ESCAPE. 27' 
 
 was but one "Coal Oil Johnny" on the face of the earth. Who 
 ever heard of a young man getting away with $1,500,000 in a 
 couple of years, and then that same young man settling down 
 immediately to the hard, solid knocks of a poor man's life and 
 becoming an industrious, trusted model man of business and 
 integrity? "Coal Oil Johnny" is both a novelty and an 
 enigma. We may search the wide world over and we will not 
 find his counterpart. Surely the "old times in oildom" de- 
 veloped some odd characters. Further on in this series of 
 chapters I will mention more of them. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 NARROW ESCAPE FROM BEING A BLOATED 
 BONDHOLDER. 
 
 I'll take a funny subject this time. I'll take my own exper- 
 ience. I'll tell how I did not make several fortunes. The 
 first attempt was the leasing of about 3,000 acres of "dry terri- 
 tory." I was at Oil City at the time the dry territory excite- 
 ment started north. When it reached Pleasantville I betook 
 myself to my home in Youngsville, Pa., where I began to lease 
 far ahead of the tidal wave. I wrote my contracts somewhat 
 in this manner : "I agree to sell my farm to G. W. Brown, of 
 Youngsville, Pa., for so many dollars per acre," and it was al- 
 ways a price quite low. (The land was worth fully the 
 amount named for farming purposes.) "Provided said 
 Brown pays the amount within three months from date." I 
 picked up 3,000 acres within a couple of weeks, and rested 
 on my laurels and waited for the wave to come. It came, 
 and soon leasers were promising twice as much as I had prom- 
 ised for just as good land. I had some good offers, but as 
 my time was not near up, and the price of dry territory was 
 going up and up, I held on for the highest notch. I finally 
 had an offer by which I could pocket a profit of about $40,000. 
 I concluded to strike while the iron was hot; but the iron did 
 not stay hot quite long enough. I'll tell why. When I made 
 the sale, I found that I must locate each separate lot on the 
 Warren county map. I had about ten days to drive around 
 
28 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 and make my locations. During these ten days, Sherman took 
 Atlanta, and capitalists made up their minds that greenbacks 
 were better than dry "territory," and the bottom fell out of 
 this kind of business. I paid a big price for learning that "a 
 bird in the hand is worth two in the bush." 
 
 My second lesson was somewhat connected with the first. 
 While contracting the 3,000 acres of land, spoken of above,, 
 my good old friend, Alden Marsh, came to me and said: 
 "George, let me put my 100 acres of pine land into your deaL 
 I will let you have an option on it for $1,600." As this land 
 was worth double this amount, I wrote a contract imme- 
 diately. A month later Mr. Marsh came to me with another 
 remark, which ran in this wise : "George, I let you have the 
 option on my land too soon. Now, I will tell you what I 
 will do. I will give you 100 acres in Cherry Grove. It did 
 not cost me much. I bid it in at a few cents an acre for taxes 
 due, and it is not worth anything. I will give it to you if you 
 will give up my contract for the 100 acres of pine land." Mr. 
 Marsh bless his — memory — being my best friend in a business 
 way, had only to ask this favor to get it. And now I will tell 
 you where the trouble came in. I thought, with Mr. Marsh 
 that Cherry Grove land was worth nothing, and did not take 
 the trouble to get a deed made out. Years after Mr. Marsh 
 died and about that time the oil excitement began to creep 
 toward Cherry Grove. Then it was that I asked Mr. Marsh's 
 widow about this land of mine. Of course, Mrs. Marsh knew 
 nothing whatever about this very careless land trade, and had 
 sold the land for $3 an acre. Not very long after this, the 
 great "mystery," or "646," was struck, and upon close inquiry 
 I found that the great well was located less than a half mile 
 from my 100 acres. And the 100 acres that I didn't own was 
 v/orth about $50,000 in the market. This time I paid a big 
 price for my negligence. 
 
 Now comes another close call. A short time before Eden- 
 burg became a great oil town, a citizen of rather shaky repute, 
 living near the old hamlet, discovered large quantities of white 
 mica on his land. He soon took into collusion with him a man 
 living near Youngsville, Pa., and samples of "melted silver" 
 were exhibited about Youngsville and vicinity. Men who had 
 accumulated money by shrewdness and good investments, 
 grabbed at this bait voraciously and paid big bonuses for leases 
 
LUMBER BUSINESS IN PARKER CITY. 29 
 
 in this silver belt. After several thousand dollars had been 
 invested by Youngsville citizens Chapin Siggins (an old Cali- 
 fornia miner,) D. Mead and myself made a visit to this new 
 Eldorado. It was a two-day jaunt, on horseback, under a 
 broiling sun. When we reached the neighborhood of the 
 "mines" we boarded for a day or two with an old farmer, 
 who charged us the princely sum of six cents a meal, and 
 six cents a feed for our horses. As we expected to soon make 
 a great fortune in silver mines, we did not kick at this "extor- 
 tion." Our Cahfornia expert soon pronounced this shining- 
 silver white mica. As we Avere then in the confines of Clar- 
 ion county, and as the weather was too hot for comfortable 
 traveling, and as our finances seemed to be ample to pay our 
 "bed and board," we concluded to rusticate a day or two. Be- 
 fore leaving this enchanted spot where fortunes had not been 
 made and lost, but simply lost, our silver company took an op- 
 tion on 100 acres of quite good farm land. We paid a large 
 amount down "to bind the contract." This sum was one 
 dollar, cash. This contract was gotten up in fun, and ran 
 ■quite a long time. It read, that if we paid $4,000 within two 
 years, the farm was ours. Here is just where the fun did not 
 come in. If we had made the time four years (which we 
 could have done, with the full consent of the owner), we 
 would have had an option on a $100,000 farm, for $4,000. 
 This same farm was one of the best in the Edenburg oil field. 
 When the Edenburg oil excitement was at its height our silver 
 syndicate was not sure of the time of our option, and hasten- 
 ed to look up the contract, not knowing at that time whether 
 our contract ran one or ten years. We found the limit about 
 six months short at one end. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 THE LUMBER BUSINESS IN PARKER CITY. 
 
 In this ninth chapter I will give a little attention to the once 
 famous Parker City. 
 
 When this oil town was just getting a good start, your 
 humble author was crossing the Allegheny river on the old 
 chain ferry, owned by McLaughlin and Fullerton. And right 
 
30 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 here let me say that each of those men made a nice Httle for- 
 tune before the Iron bridge was buih spanning the river at 
 that, point, and connecting Clarion and Armstrong counties 
 by this old ferry. Day and night, it was loaded with teams 
 and passengers. 
 
 I heard "Ji"^" Lambing say : "My, I wish I knew where I 
 could get two carloads of lumber." I offered to deliver the 
 lumber within three days. Mr. Lambing was delighted with 
 my offer, and thus I commenced quite an extensive lumber 
 business. When the two loads were delivered to Mr. L., (Mr. 
 Lambing was afterwards mayor of the city of Corry, Pa.), I 
 contracted to deliver two carloads more to another party. 
 When this last lot reached Parker City I found that my man 
 was not a "gilt-edged" operator, and I refused to let him have 
 the lumber without the "cash down." He failed to come to 
 time, and I left the lumber with "Doc" Harmon, to be sold by 
 him, he to have half the profits for his trouble. Doc then 
 began to fire orders at me as fast as I could fill them. Then 
 a base of operations became necessary and I leased a few 
 square rods of swamp land of "Old Fullerton Parker," as he 
 was familiarly called, paying $600 a year rental. After rent- 
 ing the ground I was obliged to haul in about 100 loads of 
 gravel before I could pile lumber on the soft land. Then an 
 office appeared on the scene, and G. W. Brown ran the first 
 lumber yard in the greasy city of Parker. For about two years 
 my luck was the very best. I had for customers the best 
 operators in the (then) new field. They paid their bills at the 
 end of each month. But "it's a long lane that has no. turn." 
 If any man did owe me during the first two years of my yard 
 business in Parker's Landing, and happened to go into bank- 
 ruptcy, he had just paid me off in full. This was rather a 
 pleasant experience for me. But the trouble came in the turn 
 of the lane. At the end of two years, when my individual 
 profits had been about $15,000, oil took a downward plunge, 
 and fell from about $3 a barrel to about 60 cents. Then it 
 was that my heretofore good customers went into bank- 
 ruptcy by the dozen, and I was kept busy for a few months 
 going to Pittsburg to adjust claims with the register in bank- 
 ruptcy. I became quite well acquainted with this genial gen- 
 tleman. And this genial gentleman made more money out of 
 this kind of business than I did. In the end I found that I 
 
LUMBER BUSINESS IN PARKER CITY. 31 
 
 had been throwing good money after poor money I never 
 received one dollar on my adjusted claims. I learned that when 
 a Parker City oil operator went into bankruptcy he went in to 
 stay. What money he had in his pockets when the crash came, 
 stayed there. I never heard of an assignee, register in bank- 
 ruptcy, or any other officer of the law getting his hands on any 
 of it. The creditor always paid his own railroad fare, hotel 
 bills, and register's bills without aid from the debtor. The 
 debtor generally started a little business of his own, as soon 
 as he got his discharge from all his former obligations. This 
 was my experience, at least, and I have yet to hear of a cred- 
 itor who came out any better than I did. "Old Times in Oil- 
 dom" were indeed slippery times. Of about 40 lumber yard 
 men, who ran lumber yards in these "old times" but two, to 
 my knowledge, came out unscathed. 
 
 I'll give a couple of items now to prove the "slipperyness" 
 of these times. One of my customers at that time, a carpenter, 
 imbued with the spirit of the times, took the job of building 
 an addition to the Phillips hotel, owned by James E. Brown, 
 the millionaire of Kittanning. The thirfty carpenter gave me 
 the privilege of furnishing all the lumber for this addition, 
 amounting to about $800. When the job was finished, said 
 carpenter collected the money from James E. Brown for the 
 whole job and forgot to pay G. W. Brown for the lumber. 
 
 My only hold was to take a mechanic's lien on the build- 
 ing for my claim. I employed a young lawyer, of Parker 
 City, whose mind — at that time — was pretty well taken up in 
 writing a novel, entitled "Platonic Love," to attend to the legal 
 part of the transaction. This young lawyer wrote out a lien, 
 and left out the township, county, state, and the United States 
 from the document. The young lawyer engaged an old lawyer, 
 of standing, in Clarion, to help him along with the case. The 
 old member of the Clarion bar, copied the lien, and added 
 nothing to it. He did not commit any sin of "commission," 
 but, with his young colleague, "committed the sin of ommis- 
 sion." When the week of the court came around, I took a 
 wagon load of witnesses to Clarion, to prove that the lumber 
 all went into the Phillips house improvement, and boarded 
 them at the "Jones House" all week, and when Saturday came 
 my suit was put over until the next term of court. When the 
 next court came I had my wagon load of witnesses back, for 
 
.32 • OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 another week's visit in the stilly streets of the sacred precincts 
 of the old-fashioned town of Clarion. After each witness 
 helping himself to well cooked viands spread out before him 
 on Jones' table for a week, my suit came on Saturday. It 
 required less than half a day to prove my claim all right, but 
 .after my brilliant lawyers had made a strong speech in my 
 favor, the opposing lawyer — Judge Campbell — arose in his 
 majesty and pointed out the fact to my lawyers that they had 
 presented a blank to the august court. Judge Jenks took the 
 case from the jury before they left the box and they were de- 
 prived of their little visit in the jury room. My old Clarion 
 lawyer jumped to his feet (said feet had been resting on a 
 writing table) and applied for a new trial. The judge prompt- 
 ly refused and that was the last of that lumber bill. I suppose 
 the judge though a lien that failed to state whether the hotel 
 was located in England, America, or any other place, was not 
 worthy of his attention. I learned one fact, though not worth 
 $800 and other expenses, by this experience, and it is this : 
 That I, as a Warern county man, failed to cope with Clarion 
 county lawyers and judges. 
 
 My second item is one showing luck, and no luck. One 
 Saturday evening I took the paltry sum of $2,000 insurance 
 •on my lumber yard, worth about $7,000. Sunday about half 
 of the city burned, taking in my lumber yard. When the 
 news was telegraphed to me Monday morning, to my Youngs- 
 ville home, I thought I had been lucky in getting the $2,000 
 insurance placed before the fire took place — ^but now comes the 
 sequel. The company failed to come to time, and I got a tip 
 from a reliable fire insurance agent that my company was a 
 little "shaky." Then I hied me away to Philadelphia, the 
 headquarters of the concern, where I found the president of 
 the company, and parleying for half a day, I received $540, 
 which I considered a good thing for a company to do that 
 would not be slated by the commissioner of insurance, who 
 considered the company insolvent. Some people think there is 
 no place of punishment after death. I am not going to argue 
 that question, but simply say that it is my belief, and hope, 
 that there is some place, for some folks, called in the Bible — 
 hell. I'll give my readers one of my reasons for thinking so. 
 A man, (I will not say a gentleman), had just finished a new 
 hotel, before this fire spoken of here. He owed me $400 for 
 
JOHN GALEY AND THE ROBINSONS. 33 
 
 windows, doors, etc., used in the construction of his hotel. 
 He had $1,800 insurance on the building. I had a lien on the 
 hotel and if the fire had held off one day the hotel would have 
 been sold to satisfy the claim (if not in the meantime.) But 
 the fire settled the lien business. Then the man told me that 
 he would certainly pay me when he received his $1,800 insur- 
 ance. I saw him a short time afterwards, and he told me that 
 he had received his insurance money, but had invested it in 
 junk, and that he would have returns in one month. He asked 
 me to draw on him at expiration of one month for $50. I 
 did so with not the least expectation of having the draft hon- 
 ored and in a few days the draft came to the Youngsville 
 Savings Bank, with these words written on the back: "Give 
 Brown my love, and tell him to draw again." As I had, in 
 the meantime, learned this man had smuggled his property 
 out of his hands, I pocketed both the insult and loss. Now, 
 dear reader, do you wonder that I desire a place of future 
 punishment. Many, many men like this were inhabitants of 
 the old regions, and helped to make "old times in oildom" 
 miserable. 
 
 CHAPTER X, 
 
 JOHN GALEY AND THE ROBINSONS. 
 
 A few items from the book of memory concerning "down 
 at Parker" will help to make up this tenth article. 
 
 When the lumber business had become a little slow on Oil 
 Creek the author of this book transferred his rambling tread 
 to the busy, busy precincts of Parker's Landing. There the 
 oil business brought together a most motely crowd. No oil 
 town produced a more mixed crowd. No oil town produced 
 so many rich oil farmers as did Parker. The Parkers, Robin- 
 sons, Foxes, and scores upon scores of families were rich 
 enough to live without oil, but when the oleaginous wealth 
 was forced upon them they very meekly accepted it. Among 
 the richest, both after and before striking loil, were the 
 Robinsons. There were three brothers, and each had a good, 
 large farm, and every acre was good oil territory. The piling 
 
34 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 of riches on these good natured and contented men did not 
 set them up above poor folks. They always dressed well 
 and had a gentlemanly air about them not often -found 
 among ordinary farmers, and the striking of dozens of big 
 wells on their farms, when oil was worth $3.00 a barrel, 
 made not the least difference in their dress and actions. It 
 was always a comfort for the author to visit with any of the 
 brothers, before and after the finding of oil on their farms. 
 Nearly everybody has their hobby, and one of these brothers 
 had this for his hobby. When he bought lumber of me he 
 paid at the end of every month just as regular as the end 
 of the month came. But the odd cents on the bill he would 
 .never pay. If the bill was $500.01 he would pay $500, and 
 if the bill was $1.99 he would pay $1. He alwa3^s drew the 
 line on cents. He would never pay only even dollars, but 
 would never find any fault with any bill, either large or small. 
 He was one of my best customers while I kept a lumber yard 
 at Parker City. While operating his large oil farm his month- 
 ly lumber bills ran very high, and in my four years' business 
 I never was obliged to present a bill for payment. On the 
 first day of each month he would call for his bill and write his 
 check for even dollars. If all my customers in Parker had 
 been Robinsons I would have been just about $10,000 ahead 
 when I quit the lumber yard business. What a blessed world 
 this would be if all the people were Robinsons. 
 
 John H. Galey was one of the many business men of Parker 
 at the time I speak of. John's history from that time to the 
 present is well worth a brief mention. He was an active boy, 
 as the run of boys go, generally. He had his eyes open for 
 some kind of an oil trade. For a while he did not have his 
 mind made up as to what kind of a trade it would be. Finally 
 an operator put a well down on Stump Creek island, a mile 
 above Parker. The operator struck a very good paying well 
 and offered the island to Galey for $10,000. John thought 
 the matter over and made up his mind that $10,000 and more 
 than that amount, could be pumped from that well, but to use 
 his own words: "I had not the $10,000, but went to Pittsburg 
 and borrowed it and paid for the property, and I have taken 
 from that and another well which I put down on the same 
 island $125,000, and I have run the wells only 18 months. 
 They are producing nearly as much as ever and they make 
 
JOHN GALEY AND THE ROBINSONS. 35 
 
 a nice little property. John went on making money hand 
 over hand for a time, then he went far toward the setting sun 
 and built a large, thriving town. One day, when he was away 
 on business, the Indians came and wiped out his town. But 
 John Galey was not the man to sit down and mourn over the 
 loss of his wealth. The next time I heard of him he plunged 
 into the wilderness at Haymaker, McKean county. Pa., and 
 leased a large amount of land farther north than any oil com- 
 pany had thought of going. He took that well known and 
 moneyed firm, the McKinney Bros., in to the deal with him, 
 and ere long Galey was sailing over financial seas as gaily as 
 ever before. The next time I met John was several years 
 afterwards at one of his boarding houses, or houses where he 
 boarded, near Oakdale, Pa. This is the very strange story 
 he told me on that occasion : "I came to McDonald a couple 
 of years ago to lease gas territory for Guffey, Galey & Co. 
 No oil had been found in this section at that time. But think- 
 ing that this was gas territory I commenced at McDonald and 
 made leases along this ridge for a distance of nearly three 
 miles. Our strip is a little over a mile wide, on an average. 
 Now every acre of it is the best oil territory in the McDonald 
 field. I happened to keep right on the belt as near as if I had 
 known just where the oil lay. A little side belt struck us oc- 
 casionally but run out just as soon as it crossed us. We have 
 the largest wells in this field, one of them producing 16,000 
 barrels a day when first struck (this is the old Matthews 
 well). One flowed 30,000 barrels before we could control it. 
 The oil rushed down the creek through Nobletown, but luckily 
 did not take fire. It is the most strange thing to me imagin- 
 able to think how I followed this belt so far, and then stop- 
 ped at the end of it, when I was leasing gas territory with no 
 thoughts of oil. I cannot but think it almost a miracle." 
 
 I'll give a few more items concerning the once famous Par- 
 ker territory in chapter 1 1 . 
 
36 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 PARKER CITY. 
 
 I take for my subject, in this eleventh chapter, Parker City. 
 Who has not heard of Parker City? Certainly every oil man 
 has become familiar with the name. 
 
 This little city is one of the "has beens." It never will be 
 the great oil center that it once was, but it might have been 
 one of the best of its size in Western Pennsylvania, if not for 
 the short sightedness of the original landholders. This re- 
 mark applies particularly to "the flats," or First Ward. 
 
 When Mr. Fullerton Parker began to rent his land holdings 
 along the river front, the oil business was so great that he 
 could get nearly any price he put on it as rental. If one man 
 did not give $io a foot front as rent per year, another man 
 would, and Mr. Parker did just what most any other man 
 would in the same situation — put on a big price per year. He 
 could get it, and it was worth a big price. His mistake was 
 in not selling the lots and letting somebody beside himself pay 
 part of the city taxes. This plan would have tied many busi- 
 ness men to the young city, and they would have been resi- 
 dents today, instead of helping boom some other city. The 
 selling of the lots would have been the best plan, as, with the 
 united efforts of the many owners, the city would have had 
 a steady growth, thereby gradually increasing the value of 
 city property. 
 
 This is no guess work. All travelers know that large towns 
 are not found in bunches. As the traveler passes through the 
 country at intervals of 40 or 50 miles, he sees large towns. 
 The shadow of a large town keeps the little towns weak and 
 spindling. A little town don't grow much with a large town 
 just close by to take all the trade away from the small town. 
 This is one of the uncontradicted facts. Kittanning is far 
 enough down the river and Franklin is far enough up the river 
 to give Parker City an open field. No shadows from any 
 direction would dwarf the growth of "pretty little Parker 
 City," with its magnificent view of the swift running old 
 Allegheny. Coal, oil, gas, timber and good soil are found all 
 around the city. What more could be desired in the way of 
 building up a large city? It is a fact, known to every Parker- 
 
PARKER CITY. 37 
 
 ite, that when rents were up to fever pitch and business boom- 
 ing, there was no grumbhng, but when business began to ad- 
 just itself to the decreasing output of the oil wells of the 
 vicinity, rents were not adjusted. 
 
 The author speaks from personal experience. He paid $600 
 a year rent, for several years, on a few rods square of swamp 
 land, as a spot to pile lumber on. The land was made usable 
 by said author hauling many loads of gravel into the swamp. 
 By the application of this gravel, the land was made firm 
 enough to hold up lumber. This expense was borne by the 
 renter. But, as I said before, Mr. Parker was not considered 
 an extortioner at this time, as he could get the high rent from 
 other parties, if your scribe had not frozen to the lot. But the 
 trouble came when business fell off nine-tenths, and your 
 humble servant plucked up courage enough to approach W. 
 C. Mobley, the superintendent and son-in-law of Mr. Parker, 
 and asked him, in view of the fact that the profits on sales of 
 lumber would not pay the rent, to lower the rent a trifle. Mr. 
 Mobley's answer was, "Not a cent." The result is easy to see. 
 The lumber yard was obliged to close out business. 
 
 This was the case with many other branches of business. 
 Instead of the motto being carried out. "Live and Let Live," 
 thereby holding the population, the motto, "Die and Let Die," 
 was carried out, and Parker City missed its great opportunity. 
 V\\ mention a few points that will not be new to the old 
 residents of the city. 
 
 Before the bridge was built, John McLaughlin and 'Squire 
 Fullerton bought a chain ferry, paying $8,000. It paid for it- 
 self in a few months, and made a handsome fortune for the 
 firm before the bridge took away their business. But with 
 business foresight, McLaughlin and Fullerton took a good 
 slice of the bridge stock, and again piled up money. 'Squire 
 Fullerton is now dead, but his widow lives on the "Bluff," 
 where she can overlook the place of her late husband's vic- 
 tories. John McLaughlin built the Globe hotel and conducted 
 it for several years, then sold it to his two sons, George and 
 Will. Their father is connected with the natural gas business 
 and lives at Murraysville, Pa. 
 
 Who of the old operators but knew Fin Frisbee. "Fin" 
 together with "Doc" Book, built the Central hotel. Oh, but 
 that hotel did a great business. Just one little incident will 
 
3-8 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 prove this. I was a lodger one night, and by the noise below 
 my slumbering place, I took it that the bar was doing quite 
 a business. As I was used to noise, it did not deprive me of 
 "nature's sweet restorer" — sleep. But "Curt" McKinney. of 
 Titusville, did not fare so well. I stood in the office the next 
 morning after the noise, when "Curt," (as he was called then, 
 but now he is called Mr. McKinney,) came down stairs and 
 approached "Fin," who stood in the office, wearing one of his 
 contented smiles, and adderessed him in this manner: "Mr. 
 Frisbee, if you allow so much noise about your bar every night, 
 as you did last night, I will not stop over night with you 
 again." "Curt" said this with his usual earnestness. "Fin" 
 looked up very much unconcerned, and replied : "I took in at 
 the bar last night $500. I will not trade a noisy $500 at the 
 bar for a quiet 70-cent lodging. Poor Frisbee. After becom- 
 ing proprietor of the great Kent House at Lakewood, he sold 
 out, and removed to Duluth, where he added very materially 
 to his wealth, and bid a long farewell to his dollars and crossed 
 over the river of death, to try an unknown existence. If 
 there are no hotels to be run in that other life, "Fin" will be 
 unhappy. 
 
 I met Elisha Robinson on the street this morning. He is 
 the same unassuming man of money that he was when his oil 
 wells were forcing him to go to Pittsburg every few days to 
 deposit his piles of cash. He is the same true Christian 
 gentleman yet that he was when, 33 years ago, he would come 
 as regular as a clock into my lumber office to pay his bills. If 
 all my customers had been Elisha Robinsons I would have 
 $10,000 more money today than I have. And his brother, 
 "Sam," still clings to this terrestrial ball, which means that 
 another good, honest, rich man still lives. Both brothers are 
 tilling the soil the same as before that same soil poured forth 
 rivers of oil. Elisha has his affections fixed, this spring, on 
 a piece of hoarded land that he will clear up this coming 
 summer and put in a state of cultivation. 
 
 Fullerton Parker, who was monarch of all he surveyed in 
 this city in its palmy day has, w4th many other pioneers, been 
 gathered "to his fathers," but his mansion on the "Bluff," still 
 overlooks the city which bears his name. There are Parkers 
 and Parkers here yet, but they are not of the old settlers. 
 There is one in Oil City (William Parker, who is remembered 
 
OIL CITY SIXTY YEARS AGO. 39 
 
 here as the owner of the old "Rob Roy" well at Karns City, 
 which produced nearly 150,000 barrels of oil and put nearly 
 as many dollars into the pockets of its owner.) There were 
 very few "Rob Roys." None ever came and stopped with me. 
 The "Rob Roy" spoken of above, gave Oil City an ornament, 
 in the great brick mansion of "Bill" Parker. It is lucky for 
 noted Oil City that such men as Mr. Parker gravitated in its 
 direction, when they became too rich to stay anywhere else. 
 
 And now, let me close this article by saying that if Parker 
 is not the Parker of old it bears unmistakable signs of former 
 prosperity, in its five good churches, fine brick school build- 
 ing, water works, bank and many substantial buildings that 
 were paid for when money was no object. For this and many 
 other blessings the Parker of today has reason to be thankful 
 So mote it be. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 OIL CITY SIXTY YEARS AGO. 
 
 Talk about old times! Why, the inhabitants, the younger 
 ones, know very little of the growth, from the beginning, to 
 the present. I was born within 10 miles of the Drake well, 
 or the first well drilled, 80 years ago, in Centerville,. Craw- 
 ford county. Pa., and had the pleasure of seeing its production 
 for the first two days, and the same with the second well, 
 right across the creek from the Drake well, on the John Wat- 
 son farm. This second well, known as the Williams well, 
 made more of a splurge than the Drake well. It sent the oily 
 fluid many feet skyward, with a vim which the natives of this 
 corner of God's footstool never dreamed of. The natives, 
 your humble servant not excepted, were nearly dumb. The 
 inhabitants of that period had never seen oil in all its glory 
 before. The inhabitants along Oil Creek had smelled it, inas- 
 much as a few drops of it would occasionally ooze through 
 the ground. I, myself, at that time lived here at Youngsville, 
 Warren county, Pa., on the banks of the Brokenstraw creek. 
 For many years, before the time of striking the first oil well, 
 I had made trips down the Allegheny river, on lumber rafts. 
 
40 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 nearly every time the water came to a rafting stage. Always 
 when passing the mouth of Oil Creek, a strong "Seneca oil" 
 smell came floating on the air. That was all there was to it — 
 just a smell. Compare that smell with the present oil business, 
 if you can. I leave it to any living man or woman to make the 
 comparison. I will not attempt it. 
 
 Oil City, at that time, consisted of a grist mill, hotel, one 
 little store and two dwelling houses. The hotel was the most 
 pretentious building of the town. It lacked "a small trifle" 
 of bieng a mate to the Arlington of today, in size and equip- 
 ment, but bore the same name of the "best hotel" in town. 
 The old, and indeed most of the young inhabitants of the 
 "Hub of Oildom," have seen the old Moran house, at the 
 lower end of the city. That one hotel was the real money- 
 maker of the town. When a good rafting stage was on, the 
 man that got a good bed to sleep in had to be on hand early 
 in the afternoon, as quite a while before dark the Allegheny 
 fleets — or rafts — would begin to tie up for the night, in Oil 
 Creek eddy. Before dark the river would be filled nearly to 
 the opposite shore with rafts from almost every place on the 
 Allegheny river from Oil City to Coudersport. The main 
 points from which these rafts came were Tionesta, Irvineton, 
 Warren, Jamestown, N. Y., Kinzua, Pa., Corydon, Pa., Sala- 
 manca, N. Y., Tuningwant, Pa., Olean, N. Y., Port Alle- 
 ghany, Pa., and Coudersport, Pa. The reader will see that the 
 Keystone and Empire states divided the honor of furnishing 
 this great river trade. This was caused by the river starting 
 in Penns5dvania, and straying off into the state of New York, 
 but finding the Yankees no better than the Dutch Pennsyl- 
 vanians, the waters strayed back into the parent state, and 
 commingling with the waters of the Monongahela, slowly and 
 peacefully wended their way through the slave country of the 
 south, to the sea. 
 
 Speaking of rivers, let me say, fearing it may slip from my 
 memory, that years ago I sat in the office of a hotel, on Keat- 
 ing Summit, Potter county, Pa., and gazed on the drops of 
 rain falling on one inch of ground, where it divided, a part 
 going into the Atlantic and a part into the Gulf of Mexico. 
 The question in my mind was, which part will reach the salt 
 water first ? But I am getting off the subject of "Old Times in 
 Oildom." To make it plain to the readers of this article, I will 
 
OIL CITY SIXTY YEARS AGO. 41 
 
 say that the old Moran house was not supposed to hold all the 
 hardy men that manned the oars which guided this large num- 
 ber of rafts. The "hands" which did the work at the end of 
 those oar stems, generally rested after their hard day's work, 
 in a raft shanty, which was .anything but a shield against rain 
 and snow, being constructed of green boards, roof and all. 
 This shanty was built for but a short period of service. Only 
 for a place, for perhaps a dozen men to sleep in, for a week 
 or two, according to the distance floated. There was one man 
 to watch the raft until sold and delivered. Only the owner 
 of the raft and the pilot indulged in the luxury of a bed in the 
 far-famed Moran hotel. Sometimes a "hand" leaning a little 
 toward dudishness, would mix in with the above Inamed 
 owners and pilots, and invest a quarter of a dollar in a 
 "downy" bed. I don't speak from experience regarding 
 "downy beds," because in my youthful days, I considered my- 
 self as belonging to "the Brotherhood of man," and I always 
 slept, spoon fashion, in a board bunk, partly filled with straw 
 in the shanty. 
 
 Before leaving this subject, I wish to mention the fact, that 
 old-time raftsmen seemed to be in the old fogy class, in regard 
 to inventions. Speaking within reasonable bounds, the lum- 
 ber men of the days gone by, for 50 years at least, practiced 
 the most foolish methods of landing their rafts. As the even- 
 ing began to appear, the raft was rowed into the first eddy ap- 
 proached, and tied to a nearby tree or stump, or anything that 
 would hold the raft quietly until morning, and until the 
 "hands" had got out from the straw, in the shanty bunks, and 
 appeased their keen appetites on potatoes, meat, (generally salt 
 pork) and bread. Then the pilot would exclaim in a sort of 
 commanding voice, "untie that cable," and away Pittsburg- 
 ward would go the raft and crew. 
 
 And now comes in the foolishness, practiced for a half cen- 
 tury. The rope or cable used for tying up the raft was from 
 one and one-half inches to two inches in diameter, perhaps 
 from 100 to 300 feet long. The raft was pulled to the shore 
 and a strong hand would pick up the tremendously heavy rope, 
 which lay coiled up like a great anaconda, and would struggle 
 up a generally steep bank, run to the nearest tree with all of 
 the rope that had not been pulled away from him by the 
 downward movement of the raft. One end of the rope was 
 
42 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 tied tight to the raft. By the time that the out-of-breath man 
 on shore could get a good ''half-hitch" on that tree, two-thirds 
 or more of the rope was usually dragging in the water. Then 
 the man ashore would let go of the cable, and a man on the 
 raft would pull it on the raft, and throw one end to the man on 
 shore and the same foolish work would be repeated over and 
 over until all hands were completely exhausted, and the lower 
 end of the eddy reached, if the eddy was long enough. But 
 many times, in a short eddy, the raft defied all efforts to land 
 it, and it ploughed the water all night. 
 
 After about a half century of this kind of work, the so- 
 called "Kendulltuckyans" taught the so-called sharp Yankees 
 how to land a raft. Those Kentuckians would take a 1,000- 
 foot inch and a half rope, and coil it up on the rear end of 
 their acre raft of logs, put in a snubbing post, near the rope, 
 and when they wished to land, they would paddle the raft 
 ashore with their great long oars; then one of the "hands"" 
 would jump ashore, and the man on the raft would quietly 
 hand him one end of that light, long rope. The man ashore 
 would then take a "half-hitch," and sit down and hold onto 
 the end of the rope until the raft was stopped. Many times 
 not half the rope was used at the first hitch. After the "lapse 
 of years," the "Yanks" caught on and we have enjoyed the 
 work of landing lumber rafts ever since. Why, it is one of the 
 wonders of the world that those early day raftsmen did not dis- 
 cover this simply, easy way of landing a swift running raft. 
 The shover of this pencil belonged to those slow learners. The 
 first time I ever saw the new way of landing, I took the lesson 
 from my Kentucky brother raftsman. At that time I saw 
 those men land about one acre of logs at the first hitch, on the 
 Ohio river. 
 
 Of course I am talking about almost a thing of the past. 
 But little lumber has been rafted to the markets since the "iron 
 horse" made his appearance. Of course, said iron horse don't 
 reach every lumber mill in the country even now, and once in 
 a while when he fails to make his appearance, the water trans- 
 portation takes his place. 
 
JACK McCRAY. 43 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 JACK McCRAY. 
 
 I'll commence my I3fh article by saying a few words about 
 "Jack" McCray, one of the pioneers of the oil country. He 
 owned a farm, the south line of which came within a few rods 
 of the Drake well. When the Drake well was struck, leasers 
 came to him by the dozen. His was a large farm, lying be- 
 tween the John Watson farm the Drake well. "Jack" laid 
 out his land in acre leases, on which he charged $ioo bonus 
 and a royality of one-fourth the oil. The writer of this 
 secured two of these leases at these figures, and soon found 
 himself out of pocket $200. As the wells were kicked down 
 by the aid of a spring pole those days, there were more leasers 
 than operators. Many more men planked down their money 
 and signed contracts than put down wells. After many weeks 
 of kicking by stalwart men, dry holes would turn up in dis- 
 agreeable numbers, discouraging the many would-be operators, 
 myself among the number, and in the course of time, "Jack" 
 had more copies of leases than interests in oil wells. The oil 
 belt seemed to follow Oil Creek down toward the "mouth of 
 the creek," instead of going up Pine Creek, over McCray's 
 land, as the old wells of Captain Funk, Noble & Delamater, 
 Phillips and many others testified. But "Jack," with his 
 bonus in his pocket, became the owner of the famous McCray 
 hotel, where speculators from the east, west, north and south, 
 were wont to assemble to talk over what was a business of 
 that time, to them, of an unknown quantity. "Jack" was soon 
 known all over this country by his attempt at a laugh com- 
 posed of two syllables — or the same sound given twice — "Cha- 
 cha." The two sounds came often, as he was of a very jovial 
 disposition. No one, either by seeing or hearing, would 
 know that this noise was meant for a laugh, as not a muscle 
 of his face moved. Yet these indescribable sounds did duty 
 as a sign of merriment on his part. 
 
 "Jack" kept spanking good race horses and driving teams, 
 and made the most of life for many years, then struck into 
 the wilds of Forest county, as general manager of a large 
 lumber company and pioneered the pine lumber business for 
 many, many years. He "grew up with the country." He was 
 
44 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 elected and served one term as associate judge of the Forest 
 county court. His name will be handed down to all future 
 generations. During his residence in this wild county of For- 
 est, a postoffice which was located in his township, which is 
 named McCray, and when the B. & O. railroad was built, 
 the station was named McCray in honor of the judge. When 
 all the nice timber was cut into lumber and shipped away 
 from his jurisdiction, it became too quiet for a man of his 
 ambition and he hied himself back to his old stamping grounds 
 — Titusville — and soon bid farewell to al mundane things, 
 and crossed over the unknown river where, perhaps, there are 
 no oil wells or lumber mills. 
 
 Pithole comes vividly to my mind just now. My first visit 
 to this mushroom city was an experience. I found a daily 
 newspaper, railroad, telegraph office, opera house, many hotels 
 and boarding houses and everything that goes to make a 
 modern city. The . people of the village said the population 
 was about 25,000. I did not believe it then and I do not 
 believe it now. But there was a "right smart" of people there 
 for a three months old city in the woods. I put up at the most 
 tony hotel in the city, and had water biscuits, half baked, for 
 supper. Although I registered about 3 o'clock p. m., all the 
 beds were engaged for the night. But the obliging clerk told 
 me he would provide a place for me to sleep. When bed time 
 came this smiling clerk took a lantern, and by its dim light, I 
 was led to the barn and handed a blanket, by the said clerk, 
 who told me to "climb that ladder" and I would find plenty 
 of hay at the top of the mow to make a bed of. I did as 
 directed and about 40 feet skyward I found plenty of hay, 
 and also men that had preceded me to the roosting place as 
 patrons of this hotel. I found a vacant place among the snor- 
 ing crowd. Mingled with the unmistakable smell of bad 
 whiskey. But morning came at last, and also a dose of the 
 hot biscuit. When the bill was paid I found the modest 
 charge of $1.00 for each meal and 75 cents for lodging. 
 After breakfast I hired a little bunty saddle horse, to ride to 
 McCray's Landing — four miles distant. When I returned the 
 obliging liveryman charged me only $5 for the use of the 
 little animal, about three hours. There was never but one Pit- 
 hole. Just think of six-foot guage railroad being built four 
 miles to Oleopolis and then dismantled in a few short months.. 
 
JACK McCRAY. 45 
 
 The last time that I passed through Pithole I saw but two oc- 
 cupied houses. As that was 20 years ago, it is dollars to cents, if 
 there is one house there now. In the palmy days of Pithole 
 considerable oil was put in barerls and towed up the river to 
 the P. & E. railroad at Irvineton. 
 
 I loaded a boat with shingles for the mouth of Pithole creek 
 and accompanied the crew of five down to the place of de- 
 livery. After we got the shingles off the boat was loaded 
 with barrels of oil. The five men rolled barrels nearly all 
 day. Two young coopers were tightening the hoops on the 
 barrels on shore. The five brawny boatmen kept nagging the 
 coopers and poking fun at them all day. One was an Irish- 
 man and the other a Dutchman. I stood on the high bank ot 
 the river late in the afternoon. I heard the young Irishman 
 say, "You have made fun of us all day and now we are 
 going to pay you for it." With this exclamation on his lips, 
 both coopers jumped and ran onto the boat and in five minutes 
 the two coopers had five big boatmen badly whipped. Two of 
 them ran, but they were soon overtaken and knocked down. 
 A part of the boatmen called themselves great fighters before 
 the coopers got their "dander up." We did not hear anything 
 more about pugilistic achievements after this battle. The boat- 
 men did not dare to let their boat lie at the landing that night, 
 but hitched on their horses and towed it two miles up the river 
 and spent the night out of range of the coopers. All this was 
 an object lesson — showing what can be done by courage, dis- 
 played by the weaker party. And this reminds me of a similar 
 case that came under my observation at Reno, at the time 
 General Burnside was building his railroad over the hills and 
 through the valley to Plumer. The railroad workers were 
 gathered in a crowd at the junction of the wildcat road with 
 the junction of the Atlantic & Great Western road. A lively 
 discussion arose on some question among them and one stal- 
 wart young Irishman took it into his head to whip th® whole 
 crowd, and he did just what he undertook to do. He just 
 walked around among those laborers and knocked down every 
 one that came within reach of him. After this generel knock- 
 down business had gone about five minutes, the boss, a big 
 finely developed man, belonging to the same country of the 
 fighter, with a big plug hat on, stepped up to the pugilistic 
 gentleman and commanded him to desist from his dangerous 
 
46 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 pastime. The fighter struck out, square from the shoulder, 
 and sent the boss down among the other victims of this young 
 man's rage, his phtg hat rolHng and tumbhng another rod 
 ahead of him. The boss struggled to his feet and stood as a 
 quiet witness, until the fight ended for lack of more men to 
 knock down, and the whole circus ended right there and then, 
 with the young Hercules standing peacefully in the crowd — 
 with a victorious smile on his face and no one to question his 
 title to the name of boss knocker. He was another exemplifica- 
 tion of the power of one man, energetically applied, that is 
 fresh in my mind to the present day. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 A GREEDY LANDLORD. 
 
 What shall I say in this chapter? The reader may think I 
 have run out of material by this time, but let the reader con- 
 sider that a man who was born before such things as railroads, 
 telegraph lines, trolley lines, steamboats, telephone, ocean 
 cables, mail delivery routes, flying machines, sewing machines, 
 oil, gas, automobiles, electric power and many other things 
 that I could mention came into use, ought to know more than 
 would fill a small book. The young men and women of the 
 present time may well wonder how human beings could get 
 along without the things above mentioned. But they did get 
 along 6,000 years before these conveniences came to help 
 mankind in general. 
 
 When I was a boy a party of young men and young ladies 
 would get into big box filled with straw, on a pair of wooden 
 bob sleds, drawn by old "Buck and Jerry," a faithful yoke of 
 oxen, and go on a snail's gallup miles upon miles to a dance, 
 in zero weather, with as light hearts and as much — or more — 
 merriment than is now shown in automobile loads of young 
 heirs to millions of dollars. A man worth $10,000 was con- 
 sidered as great a man as a multi-millionaire is at the present 
 time. I think as to happiness, perhaps these old-time young- 
 people had the best of it. The ox teams never killed any- 
 body. As much cannot be said in the favor of automobiles. 
 
A GREEDY LANDLORD. 47 
 
 Many people of great wealth have passed to the other life 
 on account of their wealth. A poor man or woman cannot 
 own one of these man-killers. Human life is much safer be- 
 hind an ox team than behind an automobile. Of course a cer- 
 tain few, and very few, owned horses and buggies, but they 
 stood no higher in society than ox team people. There were 
 no distinctions or classes, at that time. All stood on the 
 same level. There was not wealth enough in the country to 
 make it worth while to draw a distinction. There are so many 
 cliques and classes, nowadays, that .when either class gets up 
 any kind of an entertainment it is a puzzle to the "committee" 
 to know who to invite. This troublesome puzzle did not come 
 in at the time of which I write, consequently they had more 
 room for unalloyed happiness. 
 
 Where the hilarity came in, in the old times, was at the 
 country corn husking or apple paring bees. The patent apple 
 dryer was not invented and the main dependence was a pocket 
 knife. The unsophisticated young man was right at home, and 
 perfectly contented, when, sitting beside his best girl, with a 
 pan of apples on his knees, pocket knife in hand, removing the 
 skin from the luscious apples, and his intended life partner 
 busily engaged in stringing the nicely quartered apples as they 
 came from the nimble knives. Whole evenings would be spent 
 in perfect contentment on the part of both. In fact, the longer 
 the apples lasted the better. When bushels of apples were 
 nicely pared and strung ready for hanging all around the fire 
 place — no stoves then to take up the room in a house — a nail 
 would be driven into a wall, to hang the strings of apples on 
 to dry — then a halt would be called and refreshments served 
 by the good lady of the farm house. After devouring the 
 "nick-nacks" the time, generally running into the morning 
 hours, would be spent in dancing, or playing "snap and catch 
 'em," "the mill goes round," "chase the squirrel," and dozens 
 of these innocent plays. If I am a good judge, more harmony 
 existed then than now. A good and substantial reason for this 
 is easy to be seen. The people never had heard or dreamed of 
 these luxuries or conveniences of the present time, therefore 
 they did not quarrel and wrangle over these things. 
 
 I have been writing so far in these articles, about older 
 times, not oil times, as no oil was dreamed of then. I will 
 now come down to oil times. Speaking of dancing, I should 
 
48 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 have said in the right place, that no quadrille had been invented 
 when I first kept time to Arthur McKinney's single fiddle — 
 that was what we called it then. It is now called a violin. 
 We had no caller either. The dancers bossed themselves. 
 We had learned to get through the "Opera Reel," "Money 
 Musk," "French Four" and many other "country" dances. 
 Each dancer was a self-taught scholar. All good dancers had 
 learned their pieces "by heart," and but few mistakes were 
 made. The writer remembers his first venture on the dancing- 
 floor. He selected one of the best looking and smartest girls 
 in the room for a partner. She knew her business to a "t" and 
 so did all the rest except the writer. But, grabbing every 
 hand extended to him, hopping back and forth, as the other 
 seven in the set did, turning every corner in the imitation of 
 my partner, and keeping not very good time to McKinney's 
 fiddle, I came off victorious. I had w^on my first ball room 
 battle. But I was not a real independent dancer yet. I had 
 followed the motions of others and had before me the many 
 figures to learn before becoming a full fledged dancing beaux. 
 But, as in most of the undertakings of this life, perseverance 
 won, and ere many moons I knew where to go without being 
 directed. 
 
 I must mention one dance given in Parker City, soon after 
 oil was struck. I was in the lumber business and occasionally 
 visited the place before it was a city. At each visit I stopped 
 at the same hotel. One evening I registered as usual and soon 
 learned that a big ball was to come off that night. The pro- 
 prietor of the hotel offered to find lodging for me outside the 
 noise of his dance. I told him not to take the trouble, as the 
 noise would not disturb my slumbers in the least. This land- 
 lord had engaged two violinists from Brady's Bend. There 
 was not a violinist at Parker City at that time. The musicians 
 were promptly on hand; also a big crowd of dancers. About 
 II p. m. one of the musicians received a telegram calling him 
 home immediately on account of the death of a relative. He 
 lost no time in catching the Pittsburg train that was just 
 ready to leave the Parker depot. As the absent violinist was 
 caller of the quadrilles his partner was left in a bad shape. The 
 band was also left in a bad fix, with two violins and but one 
 player, and the player could not call one quadrille. I had 
 played and called quadrilles for 25 years, but nobody in Par- 
 
A GREEDY LANDLORD. 49 
 
 ker City knew it. The landlord told me that he would be 
 obliged to pay a part of the money back to that large crowd 
 if he stopped the program half finished. The milk of human 
 kindness began to flow in my veins, and to save this clever 
 landlord from making such a sacrifice, I told him that I could 
 fill the place of the absent musician. To say that he was 
 pleased would be putting it lightly. He smiled all over his 
 face and I took up the absent man's work, and saved a break- 
 up of the ball. I lost my full night's sleep. I got a couple of 
 hours sleep in the morning, and that landlord charged me 50 
 cents for supper, 50 cents for lodging and 50 cents for break- 
 fast, and I paid it without a word — ^just the same as he always 
 had charged me when I had not saved $100 for him. How- 
 ever this fiddler never stayed another night at that hotel after 
 paying for the privilege of saving the collapse of the big ball. 
 
 Now> for the purpose of showing the hardships and trials 
 of the early settlers in this part of the country, I recite one cir- 
 cumstance which came to my own family. Many years before 
 the Philadelphia & Erie railroad was built through Garland, 
 my folks lived there, when I was a boy 8 years old, 73 years 
 ago. Flour of all kinds became scare. There was none to be 
 found in the valley of the Brokenstraw; none of the stores 
 the whole length of the valley had any meal of any kind. Our 
 folks had used the last in the house and starvation stared us 
 in the face. We had kind neighbors, but they were nearly as 
 bad off as we were, so we could not rely upon borrowing. 
 The morning after the last flour had been used my father, very 
 much discouraged, started out from home to see his neighbors 
 and talk with them. The first neighbor he met told him that 
 a man from Titusville was coming that day to the valley of 
 the Brokenstraw with a wagon load of flour. The man was 
 to take the shortest route through Enterprise and over Cole 
 Hill, leaving about four miles to be traveled to reach the 
 route of the "bread line." My faithful father took the tramp 
 with an empt}^ bag on his arm and reached a place on the Ti- 
 tusville road called the "Birch Springs" before the eagerly 
 looked for wagon came along. When it did arrive father 
 purchased, at a high price, 100 pounds of nice wheat flour 
 and carried it on his shoulder the four miles to his anxiously 
 waiting wife and three children. We — the children — looked 
 upon our father as a sort of savior, and our exclamations of 
 
50 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 joy must have been to him part pay for his labor of love. 
 You, of the present age of all kinds of vehicles, can form but a 
 faint conception of the labor and suffering of the early pioneers 
 of this country. Long before the discovery of oil or gas, O, 
 what a change ! In the days spoken of above in order to have 
 a light at night the housewife would melt a cake of tallow, 
 saved from butchering time, and pour it into tin molds — let it 
 harden in a cool place — warm it by the wood fire, and pull 
 them out of the molds. Rather a nice looking candle but a 
 poor light giver. In place of matches, which were unknown 
 then, a sliver would be lighted in the stone chimney fireplace 
 and applied to the wick of the candle, and an alleged light, 
 which would burn a little while, would be produced. Every 
 now and then the tallow would burn too far below the top of 
 the wick. The light would be too dim for weak eyes, then a 
 pair of iron nippers would be used in clipping off the burnt 
 wick surplus. I can almost see the change now that would 
 take place in the light as I sat reading, when someone would 
 say "Snuff the candle." Another way of making candles was 
 to tie cotton wicks about two inches apart on sticks and dip a 
 dozen at a time in the hot tallow, and after the tallow cooled dip 
 again, and continue to dip and cool until the candle was large 
 enough to suit the taste of the dipper, then lay them away for 
 use. This last mentioned was named "a tallow dip." One of 
 these made about as much light as a full grown lightnmg 
 bug. Compare this manner of lighting with the present man- 
 ner. Now you strike a friction match and touch to the wick 
 of your gas fixture and instantaneously your room is as light 
 as day. And if j^ou are too lazy to turn it off when you retire 
 let it burn — it needs no snufifiing if it burns a month or a year. 
 The difference between "the light of other days" 'and the pres- 
 ent is beyond my ability to describe. 
 
 And there is still more difference in the heating of a house. 
 Then, no matter how deep the snow, the oxen were yoked up 
 and driven to the nearby woods. A hardwood tree, maple, 
 beech, birch, hick-ory, oak, ash, or any hardwood that encum- 
 bered the ground was used. The driver of the oxen would 
 chop a tree down, trim the limbs off from the bottom to top. 
 hitch the ox chain to it and take the whole tree to the house 
 and "the man of the house" would chop it up to the desired 
 length (generally about four feet, owing to the size of the open 
 
A GREEDY LANDLORD 51 
 
 fireplace). You begin to think now that these fire logs would 
 have a little snow on them. Well, you make a good guess. 
 When you put those logs upon the live coals you could hard- 
 ly distinguish those logs from snow balls, but by adding a little 
 dry kindling wood to this snow-fire a warm room would soon 
 be the result. The half is not told yet. No stoves were in use 
 then. The danger of sparks flying out of that open fireplace 
 at night was a sleep destroyer for nervous people, but custom 
 will do great things and as all were accustomejl to this danger 
 a great majority of the people gave it but little thought. They 
 got used to it like the people of Etna and Vesuvius, who build 
 the villages on the courses of the dry lava streams. I never lost 
 a moment's sleep by reason of the thought that a spark might 
 come sailing across the room at any time and make a bonfire 
 of my bed. Many is the time that I have heard the snap of the 
 red hot log and saw the burning coal light on the floor with- 
 out any nervousness on my part. Each chimney had a stone 
 hearth from two to four feet wide for the sparks and coals to 
 fall upon, trusting to the Great Ruler of All Things to arrest 
 the flight of sparks or coals before it passed over these flat 
 stone protectors. But as all old settlers are aware, the coal was 
 governed by the force that sent it. As many passed beyond this 
 imaginary line as stopped on the hearth, but as there were no 
 carpets the danger of firing the house was much lessened. I 
 have many and many a time seen a parlor floor covered with 
 black spots caused by hot coals not hot enough to burn clear 
 through an inch board and set the house on fire. And strange 
 to say, there were but few of those log dwellings burned from 
 the cause mentioned above. This statement is hardly be- 
 lieveable under the circumstances. How could any one of the 
 present day, go off up stairs and quietly lie down and go to 
 sleep to the music of popping logs and flying coals dow^n 
 stairs? Although familiarized when young it would disturb 
 my nervous system now when old. 
 
 Before leaving this firewood question, I will just tell "one" 
 on the old settlers. They never, except a very small number, cut 
 their firewood a few months in advance and let it dry before 
 using. They cut their wood — a tree at a time — as described 
 above, all winter long, instead of cutting it about a third of a 
 year before burning and letting it dry and then putting it under 
 a roof where no snow could reach it, thus saving the trouble 
 
52 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 of compelling green wood to burn, and saving dollars and dol- 
 lars. I'll explain. With green wood when you want a little 
 fire you must build a big fire. You must put in lots of kind- 
 ling, then pile on many sticks of green wood before you can 
 possibly get a fire hot enough to boil a teakettle. In the sum- 
 mer time you have a hot fire, in a hot house, and must wait 
 until it burns itself out when you have no use for it. On the 
 other hand, you can lay one stick on a few remaining coals 
 and it will blaze up immediately and boil your teakettle, and 
 one stick of wood is soon consumed and you have a cool 
 house. No one can afiford to burn green wood. The cost is 
 more than double, to say nothing about the convenience of the 
 dry wood. As in nearly everything, there has been a great 
 change in the wood business. Now a large majority of the 
 farmers cut their wood, dry it, and house it as carefully as they 
 do their hay for their stock, thus keeping pace with the im- 
 provements of the age. Now and then a farmer sticks to the 
 old wasteful way of "from hand to mouth." What I have 
 been saying does not, of course, apply to us lucky ones who 
 live along natural gas lines. All we have to do is to touch 
 a match to our gas burner in a stove and instantly we have a 
 fire that will burn without touching again for a day, week, 
 month, year or five years. How is it possible to appreciate 
 natural gas for cooking, lighting or heating? Our minds are 
 not capable of measuring the distance between 80 years ago 
 and today in the question of light and heat. I have left out a 
 part of this article. But it is not too late yet to make amends. 
 I mentioned the fact of no matches being invented, in the old 
 times, but failed to describe the substitute. We took a piece 
 of hard stone called a flint, then struck the flint with the back 
 of a knife, or any piece of steel, a slanting blow and the fire 
 would fly, dropping onto a piece of punk held under the flint. 
 How often have I seen men "striking fire" when not a live 
 coal could be found about the house! Everybody depended 
 upon the flint as we now depend upon matches. The punk 
 that was used to catch the fire from the sparks was but rotten 
 knots taken from old hardwood logs and dried and kept as 
 carefuly as we now keep matches. Hunters in the woods 
 were never without the punk and flint. In fact, anyone 
 who ever expected to need a fire carried these two things. 
 I cannot say where the flint came from, but they were made ot 
 
. WHEN OIL CITY WAS A SHANTY TOWN. 53 
 
 very hard stone, as clear and resembling common glass. The 
 flint in flintlock guns was made of the same material. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 WHEN OIL CITY WAS A SHANTY TOWN. 
 
 When I was younger than I am now, and when Oil City 
 was younger than it is now, I helped "Smith & Allison" in 
 their lumber business all one summer. The manner of 
 handling lumber at that time was crude in the extrerne. A 
 raft would be run down the river and tied up below the old 
 grist mill. As no such a thing as a brick house was thought 
 of at that time, a large number of boards were used in build- 
 ing what passed for a dwelling place. These houses were con- 
 structed by putting up a frame of hewed pine timbers — no 
 scantling balloon frames were in vogue at that time — then 
 nailing rough boards on the outside, after which "battens,"' 
 about three inches wide, were nailed over the cracks. Lathing 
 and plastering were not a part of the make-up of an ordinary 
 dwelling house at that time. When the mercury fell to zero, 
 accompanied by a north wind. Jack Frost found it easy to 
 penetrate the best abodes of the few people living within the 
 limits of the present Oil City of fine, warm homes. Store 
 rooms and all business places were constructed in the manner 
 described above. When nothing but Cranberry coal and wood 
 were used for heating purposes, the reader has only to guess 
 at the discomforts of the pioneers. No anthracite coal — no 
 railroad to bring it in — no electric light, no gas lights, and 
 none but oil lamps, fashioned in a crude state, was the fate of 
 the founders of Oil City. Many old people are alive today 
 who can appreciate what is printed here, but the young folks 
 of the present will simply have to guess at the hardships and 
 inconveniences of "Old Times in Oildom." It is not possible 
 for me to guide my awkward pencil in giving a description of 
 all the hardships endured by the founders of this tremendous 
 and present great oil business. Just let the rising generation 
 look at the Oil City of today, and then let them try to imagine 
 how the people got along without a bridge of any kind across 
 the river — only one little chain ferry, nearly up to Siverly- 
 
54 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 ville ; an island in the middle of the river, about where the cov- 
 ered bridge now stands; an island covered with a crop of 
 corn, accessible by skiffs. One could row a skiff from the 
 north side of the river to this island, then lead it through the 
 eddy at the lower end of the cornfield, then from there to the 
 south side of the river, thus getting across the Allegheny with- 
 out paying a chain ferry fee. But what would anyone go 
 across for? They would only see one farm, with one old 
 house, and barn to match, on that side of the river. But few 
 people crossed the river, owing to the fact that there were but 
 few people to cross. Well, I'm wandering again ; I'll get back 
 to the early lumber business. 
 
 "Smith & Allison's" lumber yard was located where the 
 Arlington hotel now stands. Not all the lumber they handled 
 was piled there. The largest share of it was sold on the river 
 beach. A teamster would back his wagon down into the 
 water, against the raft, and load the lumber on the wagon, 
 and drive directly to the spot where it was used, there- 
 by saving a double handling. My business was to measure 
 the lumber as fast as loaded, and report at the office. The of- 
 fice was located just about where the obliging clerk of the 
 Arlington now rakes in the sheckles. One teamster, in par- 
 ticular deserves "special mention" here. He was familiarly 
 called "Nigger Jim." He was a well-to-do colored man. He 
 owned the team of horses that he drove, and a house and lot, 
 about half way to Siverly. Jim worked like a man of business. 
 When he was wanted he was always there. He had a black 
 skin but a white heart. It was necessary to wade in the water 
 while getting the bottom course of each raft, and float the 
 boards to shore, so that a teamster would keep his feet dry. 
 This wetting of feet came to the measurer as an offset to the 
 easy work that was his. For several days I was "rather under 
 the weather" and hardly able to work. This came to Jim's 
 ears, and he, unasked, jumped into the water and for a week 
 he would not let me get my feet wet. I never met Jim after 
 that without giving him the warm hand of fellowship. For 
 many years I have not met Jim. I don't know whether he is 
 alive or not. but I hope he is alive and prospering as of old. 
 Perhaps there are teamsters with a white skin that would be 
 just as kind under the circumstances, but I never happended 
 
WHEN OIL CITY WAS A SHANTY TOWN. 55 
 
 to find them. The kind deeds of "Nigger Jim" will never 
 vanish from my memory. 
 
 Ballard's barrel piles were one of the many wonders of the 
 oil business. Empty oil barrels were made up the river some- 
 where, in "York State" — and tied together, in great rafts, and 
 floated to Oil City. One "barrel j^ard" was located just across 
 the street in front of where the Arlington now stands. I will 
 not try to give the height of the pile of barrels, generally on 
 hand, but will say that the tiptop of the pile pointed skyward, 
 to about the same degree as the present Chambers block. Mr. 
 Ballard's barrels found a ready sale, until the advent of tank 
 cars and pipe lines. Then the great pile melted away and gave 
 place to large business blocks, which are an honor to the 
 city and a source of income to the owners. 
 
 To return to Smith & Allison. Mr. Smith built the first 
 dwelling house on Cottage hill. The people called him a "fool 
 for building up in that cornfield," where he would be compelled 
 to walk — or climb to his rather imposing looking home. Years, 
 and years ago. Air. Smith crossed over the divide — passed 
 through St. Peter's gate. He was the very personification of 
 honesty and uprightness. Mr. Allison is still in the land of 
 the living, and seems to be enjoying himself. He lives off 
 west, somewhere, but came back to Franklin a couple of years 
 ago, and made one of the best speeches on the occasion or Old 
 Home week. Thousands of his hearers will bear me out in 
 saying this. I had the pleasure of meeting him at the house of 
 a relative of his, at Salina, Pa., when he was making that 
 eastern visit. I was surprised to find him the same "Doc" 
 Allison of old. Some men never get old, and "Doc" is one of 
 them. The Derrick published his "Old Home week speech" at 
 the time, as doubtless its readers remember the speech. It was 
 full of good things from first to last. 
 
 Before leaving the lumber question I will mention a little 
 transaction that does not savor of square dealing. 
 
 I landed a river "fleet" of square pine building timber in 
 Oil Creek eddy, or rather in the mouth of Oil Creek. It was 
 for sale. A man came up from Franklin, who owned a lumber 
 yard in the "Nursery of Great Men," and looking all over the 
 raft, made an offer for it which I accepted. I agreed to run^ 
 the timber to Franklin, the next day, which I did, and landed' 
 it at the junction of the river and French creek as directed by 
 
56 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 the man — I will not call him a gentleman — paid off the men 
 who helped me run the raft, walked over French creek to this 
 man's lumber yard and notified him o£ the arrival of his tim- 
 ber. "All right, I will go right over with you," was his 
 answer. When we arrived on the raft he made this most un- 
 expected speech "This timber is too old. It must have been 
 cut last winter. I will not accept it." I told him the timber 
 was cut in the winter but it was not quite a day older than 
 when he bought it. I told the man I was below the market 
 now, as I could have sold it at Oil City, where they were 
 using such timber in large quantities. The man still refused 
 of take it. I thought I was completely "hoodooed." I started 
 for town using language for the benefit of my timber customer 
 that I would not like to see in print. He started with me to 
 return to town, but I would not be seen in his company going 
 into Franklin. I walked faster than he and with a "Benedic- 
 tion" left him far in the rear, but fortune favored me after 
 all this treachery. I sold my raft to the city of Franklin the 
 same day for crosswalks for $50 more than the rascally lum- 
 ber yard man agreed to give me. Now, dear reader, what 
 do you think of that for a display of cheek? 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 HIGH STANDARD OFFICIALS WHO ARE NATIVES 
 OF BROKENSTRAW VALLEY. 
 
 Perhaps it will be news to many readers to mention the fact 
 that the Brokenstraw valley is the only valley along the Alle- 
 gheny river from Kittanning to Coudersport that has not pro- 
 duced oil in paying quantities. It has produced oil operators. 
 John L. McKinney, J. C. McKinney and "Cal" Payne are 
 Brokenstraw productions. All three were reared about three 
 miles from Youngsville. "Curt" McKinney and "Cal." were 
 considered good average little boys, but John L. McKinney 
 was somewhat different from the common run of boys. He 
 always was a little on the dude order. Other boys who were 
 not inclined to put on airs like John poked fun at him. Little 
 they dreamed of him outstripping them all. No doubt but 
 
HIGH STANDARD OFFICIALS. S7 
 
 that he could now buy and sell the whole batch of those boys, 
 who at that time tried to hold their heads higher. In fact, he 
 could buy the Brokenstraw valley and have a good wad of 
 pocket change left. This is a changeable world. From boy- 
 hood to old age makes changes that are hardly believable. 
 John was always on hand at the balls that were very numer- 
 ous in his boyhood days and on account of fine dressing and 
 pleasant manners he was a great favorite among the fair sex. 
 The writer of this has helped to make music (such as it was) 
 for John to trip the light fantastic toe many and many a 
 night. No one thought at that time that he had a business 
 streak running through him that in after years would make 
 him a power in the financial world. And "Curt" McKinney, 
 although a more sedate boy than some of his young compan- 
 ions, has "surprised the natives." Both of these brothers be- 
 long to an oil family. This family of James McKinney, one 
 of the pioneers of the Brokenstraw and Warren county, I 
 might say, are a family of oil workers and have done more 
 than their share to make the oil business what it is today. 
 The family consisted of six boys and one girl, and the girl 
 married an oil man of Meadville. Colonel Drake did not 
 know the opportunity he was giving to develop some energetic 
 intelligent families when he opened up this world-wide bus- 
 iness near the city of Titusville. If Mr. Drake had lived to 
 the present time he could not help feeling proud to think 
 of the growth of the business that his busy brain laid the 
 foundation for. If any one had told of what the oil business 
 would come to, the morning after the Drake well was struck, 
 they would have been pronounced fit subjects for an insane 
 asylum. I must not leave out the boy "Cal" Payne. He al- 
 ways had an old head on his shoulders and was always doing 
 something that boys in general could not do. He first sur- 
 prised the denizens of the Brokenstraw valley by getting an 
 appointment as passenger conductor on the Philadelphia & 
 Erie railroad. That was out of the ordinary for a farmer boy^ 
 to take charge of a passenger (or any other) train on a great 
 railroad. Well, reader, "Cal" was not content to punch 
 tickets and be looked up to as a great man by his outstripped 
 companions and resigned and started into the oil business. 
 Nearly everyone who was acquainted with the young conduc- 
 tor thought him very foolish to leave his position on the rail- 
 
58 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 road for the then uncertain oil business, but "Cal" knew what 
 he was about and he came up, up and up until his name as 
 one of the high officers in the Standard Oil Company is a 
 household word everywhere an oil derrick is to be seen in 
 this broad land of ours. 
 
 I began this article by telling the readers about the barren 
 oil territory of the Brokenstraw valley. The valley is not 
 entirely barren of oil and gas. About 30 years ago Mr. 
 Nevans, of Titusville, leased a lot of land in Youngsville 
 and put down a well on the John Siggins farm, between the 
 P. & E. and the D., A. V. & P. railroad stations. When about 
 900 feet down he struck some gas and got a one barrel well. 
 As this was not much of a well in the days of 1,000 and 2,000 
 barrelers, he moved his tools about 15 rods from the loca- 
 tion and drilled another well. This was a mate to the first 
 and Mr. Nevans left for richer fields, continuing to operate 
 until called to the life beyond. Before leaving Youngsville he 
 told your humble servant that there was oil in the Broken- 
 straw valley. His theory was this : The rock, about 40 feet 
 of it, was too hard for much oil to come through, but that 
 more open rock was not far distant, else there would be no 
 oil or gas seeping through. He said that if he knew which 
 way to go for this loose sand he would put down another 
 well, but it was impossible for him or anybody else to tell 
 which direction to take. Several wells have been drilled 
 since Mr. Nevans left. All got both oil and gas, but not 
 enough to convince the owners that it would pay to pump 
 them. Through all these years some of these wells have been 
 producing lightly, the oil being taken out with a sand pump. 
 No well has been tested yet in a scientific manner. Those 
 interested in oil matters are in hopes the new methods of 
 operating oil wells will soon be tried here. A Pittsburg com- 
 pany has secured several leases lately and will commence op- 
 erations very soon. It is to be hoped that the mile-wide 
 valley of the Brokenstraw will not be left out in the cold many 
 moons longer. I think that the good Lord would not place 
 oil in paying quantities in the valleys of Mahoning, Red- 
 bank, Bear creek. Clarion, Scrubgrass, French creek, Two 
 mile run, Oil creek. Horse creek. Pithole, Hemlock, Tion- 
 esta. West Hickory, East Hickory, Big Sandy, East Sandy, 
 Tidioute, Dennis run, Kinzua, Sugar run, Corydon, Sala- 
 
HIGH STANDARD OFFICIALS. 59 
 
 manca, Olean, Portville, Eldred, Port Allegany, Coudersport, 
 and all the smaller streams, tributary to the Allegheny river, 
 from Kittanning to the headwaters, and leave the widest and 
 most beautiful, the Brokenstraw valley, minus this rich bless- 
 ing of oil and gas. 
 
 I see I have omitted in the enumeration of valleys the most 
 prolific of any — Tunungwant. Excuse me, ye dwellers among 
 the never failing oil and gas wells of McKean county. And 
 even if the days of one barrel wells ever come, Youngsville 
 and vicinity will be oil producing territory, even if Mr. Nevan 
 should be mistaken in his loose sand prediction. A few years 
 ago a well was drilled inside the borough line to a depth of 
 800 feet, when oil and gas were struck. The gas blazed 40 
 or 50 feet high, with a roar that could be heard at a distance 
 of a mile. Several barrels of oil were thrown out. The driller, 
 Mr. Meeley, had great hopes of a good paying well. The 
 well was shot and the flow of gas was by some means shut 
 off. Mr. Meeley commenced to clean the well. Each night 
 40 feet of quicksand would run into the hole, which required 
 a whole day with the sand pumps to remove. This kept up 
 for a week, when the superintendent abandoned the well with 
 40 feet of quicksand in the hole. Mr. Meeley was so much 
 chagrined by this order of the superintendent that he (Mr. 
 Meeley) said he once had a similar quicksand job on his hands 
 and it required three weeks to exhaust the quicksand. When 
 exhausted they had a 25-barrel well. A then resident of 
 Yougsville, a ver)^ successful Cherry run operator, and 
 afterwards a Tiona and Clarendon operator, pronounced this 
 well good for heating and lighting half the borough of 
 Youngsville. But for some reason the superintendent aband- 
 oned this best prospect in Youngsville and the north and west 
 side of the borough is an uncertainty up to the present time. 
 A line of wells had been drilled — four in number — along the 
 Brokenstraw creek, each prospect nearly as good as the last 
 mentioned, but none has had a scientific test, and it is an open 
 question, which could soon be solved, whether this valley of 
 the Brokenstraw will remain small territory, or take its place 
 among the many productive valleys along the Allegheny river. 
 
6o OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 CHAPTER XVII. ' 
 
 BIG THINGS WHICH STARTED IN WESTERN 
 PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 I wonder how many of my readers ever thought of how 
 very important a part of the country is this section of Western 
 Pennsylvania. The writer of this was born in Centerville, 
 Crawford county, Pa. Several great things had a beginning 
 within a radius of i8 miles of this rather unpretentious coun- 
 try borough. 
 
 First — The A. O. U. W., a beneficiary order, was organized 
 a few miles south of Centerville. Jefferson lodge, No. i, was 
 the first fraternal insurance lodge organized in the United 
 States. Now lodges are found in every nook and corner of 
 this great country. They are numbered by the thousands and 
 hundreds of thousands of members have died, leaving their 
 beneficiaries — widows and children — ^provided for, who, if 
 not for that first organization of the Ancient Order of United 
 Workmen, would have been left destitute. One hundred and 
 seventy millions of dollars have been paid by this order to 
 stricken families where the Great Reaper has entered the 
 homes. Reader, just try for a moment to estimate how many 
 little children would have been ragged and hungry, who have 
 been clothed and fed, today if it had not been for the A. O. 
 U. W. And not only this but other fraternal orders, taking 
 the cue from this pioneer order, have multiplied until now over 
 200 different associations, of different names, flourish in 
 America, with over 7,000,000 members, paying about $80,- 
 000,000 yearly. All from that little start of eight men, led 
 by John J. Upchurch, of Meadville, 40 years ago. 
 
 Second — The first fraternal dollar was paid 18 miles north 
 of Centerville, at Corry, Erie county. Pa. Lodge No. i at 
 Meadville was the first lodge organized, but it did not have 
 the first death. Lodge No. 2 was located at Corry and had 
 the first death. At that time the two lodges had 260 members. 
 The assessment on the death of a member was $1 for each 
 member. This assessment was always paid in advance. So, 
 you can see, that there was $250 lying in the treasury at 
 Meadville, awaiting a death to take place. At that time the 
 plans of the order were in a very crude state. Members joined 
 
ORIGINAL WITH WESTERN PENN'A. 6i 
 
 for the first three years existence of the society without a 
 medical examination. People by the hundreds were saying 
 that after the first death and the fjrst assessment had been 
 paid out, no more money would be paid in. So, after due 
 consideration, so the story runs, the Corry lodge agreed to 
 make a test. They initiated an old fellow who was nearly 
 gone with consumption. He died in about three weeks, and 
 the recorder of the lodge, Mr. Fenton, of Jamestown, N. Y., 
 who runs a pail factory at the place, but who lived at Corry 
 at that time, took the $250 to the home of the widow. The 
 "smarties" lost their guess. Not a member of the 250 failed 
 to pay in their dollar assessment, and, beyond the most ardent 
 dreams of the members, the income of the order, in place of 
 $250, is now nearly a million dollars a month. 
 
 Third — The first oil well was found at Titusville, Pa., 10 
 miles from Centerville, on the edge of Venango county. Pa. 
 I need not say that from one little Drake well blessings far 
 beyond description have come to the world. And right here 
 let me call your attention to the point that the hand of Provi- 
 dence must hav^ guided the hand of Mr. Drake. He drilled 
 his well on the only spot where he, with his limited means, 
 could have secured oil in paying quantities. Had he drilled 
 his well on any other spot, we poor mortals would now be 
 warmed by coal and wood, and we would be writing at night, 
 by the light of a pitch pine knot or an old glass lamp covered 
 with soot or grease, or by the light of tallow candles, or some 
 other kind of an arrangement. Mr. Drake had only enough 
 money, by being helped, to put a well down 70 feet.' Where 
 would he have been if he had been obliged to go thrice that 
 distance ? The answer is : He would have quit before another 
 70 feet was drilled. Compare the tools that Mr. Drake was 
 obliged to use with the improved tools of the present, and 
 what is your conclusion ? I claim to know something of what 
 T am talking about. Just after the Drake well was struck the 
 quiet but energetic John B. Duncan, of East Titusville, a 
 cousin of mine, took it into his head to kick down a well on 
 Pine creek. I helped him six weeks with his laudable under- 
 taking at the princely wages of 75 cents per day. You had 
 better believe that during that six weeks John and I did some 
 kicking and twisting of sucker rods. I left John at the end 
 of six weeks to work out his own salvation, and with a few 
 
62 OLD TIMES IN 01 LOOM. 
 
 weeks more of hard kicking he was rewarded with a five bar- 
 rel well. Oil was at a good price at that time, and John made 
 a little money as a reward for his perseverance. John was 
 almost a brother of mine. When he was born his mother 
 died. I was only ii months old at the time and my mother, 
 who was a sister to John's mother, took care of us both. Good 
 woman that she was, she managed to bring us both to the 
 six-foot notch. I always felt as though John was my half- 
 brother. I think every man, woman and child in Titusville 
 knew and respected him. He was a walking encyclopedia. He 
 would take the time any day to impart information concern- 
 ing the old settlers in Oil Creek. Several years ago he passed 
 away. 
 
 When we sum it all up, where can .we find another part of 
 the United States where such godsends have taken root within 
 a radius of 35 miles? Meadville, Corry (Corry paid the first 
 fraternal insurance dollar in the United States) and Titusville 
 are names to be emblazoned on the pages of fame. Do you 
 blame me for feeling a trifle proud of being born at Center- 
 ville, about the middle of this triangle of little cities? Right 
 close to Titusville lived Henry R. Rouse, at Enterprise, Pa., 
 four miles from the Drake well. The lively suburb of Oil 
 City — Rouseville — took his name. But to go back a little. 
 Young Rouse came to Enterprise, Pa., when but a school boy 
 He soon pitched into the lumber business and turned the tall 
 pine trees into money. He displayed great aptitude, and the 
 people of Warren county sent him — the boy representative- 
 to the state assembly. He soon made himself felt in legis- 
 lative affairs. About the time his term of law-making in Har- 
 risburg expired, the oil business electrified the world. Young 
 Rouse took a lease of the Buchanan farm, on which Rouse- 
 ville now stands, and commenced successful operations. When 
 nothing but brightness and prosperity stared him in the face 
 one of his wells caught fire, and he. with many others — 
 Willis Benedict, one of Titusville's prominent men was 
 among the number — was fearfully burned. Mr. Rouse lived 
 but two hours after the accident, but in that short space of time 
 he made a will that could not be improved if he had given it a 
 month's study. He was a single man with no relatives but 
 his old father. After providing for his parent, he bequeathed 
 to Warren county the remainder of his lumber and oil prop- 
 
COULD NOT GIVE HILLSIDE AWAY. 6.^ 
 
 erty. Half the interest of his fortune he wanted used for 
 the benefit of the poor and the other half to be used for build- 
 ing a court house, and for building iron bridges and other 
 Toad improvements in Warren county. The voters of the 
 county v^ere amply rewarded for sending him to the legis- 
 lature when he was but a boy. Warren county has had no 
 poor tax to pay and but few iron bridges to build since the 
 flames burned out the life of that noble, enterprising young 
 man — Henry R. Rouse. Passengers passing through Youngs- 
 ville on either the Lake Shore or Philadelphia & Erie roads 
 can see from the train the county poor farm and the Rouse 
 hospital, erected by the bequests of this man. A marble monu- 
 ment stands on the lawn in front of the hospital to com- 
 memorate his memory. Although of a respectable size, it is not 
 Tialf as large as it should be, when compared with the prince- 
 ly fortune left for generations yet unborn. 
 
 CHAPTER XVHI. 
 
 COULD NOT GIVE HIS ROCKY HILLSIDE AWAY. 
 
 In this chapter I will mention the "on to Buflfalo" business. 
 When the Dunkirk, Allegheny Valley & Pittsburg railroad 
 was being built, the Buffalo and Titusville people were very 
 €ager for the road. They expected that a competing line 
 would be built from Titusville to Oil City, connecting with the 
 Lake Shore branch to Ashtabula, O. If this could have been 
 carried out to the Lake Shore, as it is now called, it would 
 probably have been a better paying road today. This route 
 would have given a traveler from the east to the west a trunk 
 Tine ride through the oil region instead of going up the lake, 
 where not a derrick is to be seen. But the managers of the old 
 W. N. Y. P. put up the bars by laying down a track on the 
 east side of Oil Creek to hold the right of way against all 
 comers. I write this to show the moves on the railroad 
 checker board. I never saw in my limited travels a railroad 
 built such a distance and lie unused until the ties rotted under 
 the rails except in this one case. Perhaps the embargo will be 
 lifted some day and that link in the line of 17 miles will be 
 put in. But even with this drawback, the D., A. V. & P.* 
 
.64 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 road was needed between Titusville and Dunkirk to take care 
 of the Chautauqua Lake and Lily Dale travel, the local bus- 
 iness all along a good farming country, including Warren and 
 Youngsville, and the oil and lumber trade of Grand Valley. 
 The smoke has ceased to pour forth from the stacks at the 
 lumber mills, as is always the case at all lumber camps in the 
 course of time, when the timber is all sawed, and the produc- 
 tion of oil arid gas has fallen off to a certain extent. But it 
 will be many days before all the oil and gas is gone. Two of 
 the men familiar to the lumber operators have handled their 
 last carload of lumber and the last barrel of oil. I allude to 
 L. B. Wood and Judge C. C. Merritt. The Judge left for 
 the untried land a few years ago. And let me say the Judge 
 was the first to die of a most remarkable family of brothers. 
 The Judge had ii brothers. There were 12, counting himself, 
 in that family. All lived to be old men, and not one of the 
 12 ever used tobacco or whiskey in any form. L. B. Wood 
 was a man who is missed. Indeed he was in "Grand Valley." 
 When he was gone the whole valley seemed almost deserted. 
 He did a vast amount of business and was a leader indeed. 
 Wood left a son (Williston), who has the father's traits about 
 him to such an extent that the immense business of his father 
 will not suffer. L. B. also left a brother, Frank, and the 
 large business built up by the lamented L. B. Wood will 
 move along without much change. But the pleasant and bus- 
 iness face of L. B. Wood has been missed in his office, store 
 and on the streets of Grand Valley. 
 
 The first man of Youngsville who made money at the oil 
 business was John Davis, a shoemaker for years before oil 
 was thought of. He was born and reared on a farm near 
 Youngsville. He, by hard work, could only make "both 
 ends meet." He had but little money but a good supply of 
 courage. At the very first of the developments at Tidioute he 
 moved his family to that town and took a lease, set up a 
 spring pole and pegged away until he struck one of those 
 shallow wells that was the fashion, those days, and sold it for 
 $6,000. John worked away until he got money enough ahead 
 to live in Meadville. Then he took the opportunity and 
 migrated to the county seat of Crawford county. Pa., and 
 thereafter rather dropped out of the ranks of the numerous 
 Davis family in Youngsville. His interesting family received 
 
COULD NOT GIVE HILLSIDE AWAY. 65 
 
 an education in that college city that they never could have 
 had if they had remained in Youngsville. The members of 
 the Davis family remaining here have always been noted for 
 their musical abilities, the M. E. choir at one time being en- 
 tirely composed of Davises. It was named "the Davis choir." 
 John's family was not an exception in that respect, one of his 
 daughters being the organist in Miller and Sibley's Baptist 
 church choir at Franklin for many years. It may naturally 
 be supposed that a lady who can play a pipe organ and give 
 perfect satisfaction in the far-famed church and Sunda}'' school 
 patronized and financially sustained b}^ those world-wide 
 Christian workers, Miller and Sibley, is pretty well up in the 
 music line. Well, the genial John came from his Meadville 
 home, about two years ago, to visit his numerous relatives at 
 Youngsville, at the "ripe old age" of 92 years. One of his 
 relatives was his "Aunt Prudence," but two years his junior. 
 He told her that he feared it would be their last visit. His 
 fears were well founded, as within the next year both were 
 "sleeping the sleep that knows no waking." 
 
 Reading a few days ago, concerning R. K. Hissam, the 
 bank president, reminded me of a conversation that I had 
 with Rev. Mr. Hissam, who owned an oil farm straight across 
 the river from Sistersville, in the state of Ohio. He gave me 
 a short history of his oil career. He was a Methodist Epis- 
 copal minister and years ago was a "circuit rider" on both 
 sides of the Ohio river. The country stands on edge in that 
 section, and as Rev. Mr. Hissam weighs over 300 pounds, 
 riding up and down these mountains was very laborious for 
 both himself and his horse, the horse in particular, and he con- 
 cluded to make a change. He bought 200 acres of sidehili 
 land, a mile from the river, on the Ohio side, and became a 
 Buckeye farmer. A year or two convinced him that he was 
 not intended for a farmer — certainly not for a farmer with 
 land that stood edgeways. He then tried to sell his farm. 
 Now came "the tug of war." By hunting high and low he 
 could find no man anxious enough for farming such a hill- 
 side willing to give half the amount he gave for it. In other 
 words he could not give it away. He was in for a farmer's 
 life, and he settled down to his fate. Then oil was found at 
 Sistersville, W. Va., and oil operators found that the oil belt 
 did not run with the windings of the Ohio river, but that it 
 
66 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 ran straight across the river, through Mr. Robison's 600 acre 
 farm about a mile and then through Rev. Mr. Hissam's 200 
 acre farm. The reverend gentleman did not have to look 
 after buyers for his farm after that. He leased it to an oil 
 company at a good royalty, and when I talked to him his in- 
 come was about $500 a day, with oil at 60 Cents per barrel, 
 and no wells drilled except protection wells half way around 
 the 200 acres. I don't know what his income was when the 
 rest of the protection wells were drilled and all the center of 
 the 200 acres, and oil at $1.75 per barrel. James McCray 
 had nearly such an experience. Just before Petroleum Center, 
 Pa., became a prolific oil town, "Jim" owned a farm there 
 •of about 200 acres. About 50 acres was a very rocky side- 
 hill. He did not value it enough to pay taxes on it. He paid a 
 surveyor for the work of surveying off this 50 acre piece, 
 made out the papers and went to Franklin and put it on the 
 "unseated list." The county treasurer learned that there was 
 an error in the transaction, and he refused to sell it as "un- 
 seated" land, and dropped it from his list and it fell back into 
 "Jim's" hands again. Soon after the "Maple Shade" well, 
 with its i,cxxD barrels a day, was struck. When J. S. McCray 
 related this circumstance to me he had leased this rocky side- 
 hill, in one acre leases, at $3,000 bonus and half the oil. Oil 
 at that time was bringing $3.00 a barrel. His income from 
 this 50 acres of "unseated land," not sold for taxes, was $5 a 
 minute — night and day, Sundays included, all the year around. 
 Here the old saying comes in play, "It is better to be born 
 lucky than rich." 
 
 In these articles I spoke of working for Smith & Allison in 
 their lumber yard in Oil City, one summer. I have told of 
 Mr McCray's streak of luck. In a very small way, I had a 
 little streak of luck in the early winter of that year. Now this 
 little sketch will look insignificant compared to the one just 
 related above, but it was luck all the same. After I finished 
 up my summer's work among the board shanties of Oil City 
 I came home to Youngsville and bought a couple of "creek 
 pieces" of boards and a boat, such as was used to run oil out 
 of Oil Creek, in bulk, at that time. When ready to start 
 from Brokenstraw eddy I made common cause with J. C. and 
 D. Mead, two brothers who had been in the lumber business 
 as partners for many years, but at the time mentioned above 
 
COULD NOT GIVE HILLSIDE AWAY. 67 
 
 were operating for oil at McClintockville, a mile above Oil 
 City. 
 
 I hitched onto their raft and was accompanied by one of 
 the brothers to Oil City. We sold out our lumber and oil boat. 
 Then one of the brothers went on to Pittsburg and sent me 
 back after a few creek rafts that I had formerly engaged and 
 had come out of the Brokenstraw creek on a sudden rise of 
 water. We were to be partners in this last mentioned deal. 
 When I arrived at the Brokenstraw eddy I found the other 
 brother in possession of the lumber I had engaged. Of 
 course he knew nothing of my claims to the promise of this 
 lumber and ignored my claim of it. The fault was with the 
 former owner of the lumber in not telling this brother up 
 here what he had done. I finally said, "Am I out of this 
 deal?" The answer was, "You were never in." Well, as 
 rough oil country lumber was nearly as scarce as hen's teeth 
 that year, and I had promised Smith & Allison the lumber 
 that I had engaged, and that had slipped out of my hands 
 as slick as oil, I felt somewhat blue — not the "blue" that the 
 raftsmen in general were afflicted with, but the real sober 
 kind. As I stood on the bank of the old Allegheny, with no 
 pleasant thoughts passing through my mind, I cast my eyes in 
 the direction of the upper end of the Brokenstraw eddy. There 
 I saw a vision that roused my drooping spirits. A half dozen 
 little creek rafts were tied to the bank. I soon found the 
 owner. I traveled five miles the next morning and soon be- 
 came the proprietor of those rafts, which were loaded with 
 nice pine shingles. One day's run put this lumber safely into 
 Oil City. It was the night before Christmas and the river 
 was covered with slush a foot deep from shore to shore 
 Christmas morning. If I had been one day later I would 
 not have got that much needed lumber into market that win- 
 ter — perhaps never — as the ice in the spring might have swept 
 it away. I settled with Smith & Allison in the evening after 
 I landed the lumber and started for Youngsville at 4 a. m. 
 Christmas morning, my route being up Oil Creek, creeping 
 along the shore of the creek in places between the high moun- 
 tain and the water's edge. When daylight came I had reached 
 "Tar farm," and had enjoyed a warm and well cooked break- 
 fast at the hotel. Was not that rather a ticklish job — travel- 
 ing up along the fearfully rough bank — part of the time 
 
68 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 through woods and darkness all alone, and liable to a holdup 
 any minute by footpads? A man had been murdered a few 
 nights before on this path, within the limits of Oil City, for 
 the few dollars in cash he carried in his pockets. The spot 
 was near the tunnel of the Lake Shore railroad and several 
 holdups had taken place in different parts of the new oil 
 ■country a short time before my Christmas morning's walk. 
 As there were no policemen to protect the lone traveler in 
 those early days, I confess I felt slight misgivings concerning 
 my personal safety, as I was carrying the price of my raft 
 and shingles in paper money in my pockets — not, as it would 
 be nowadays, in a check which no thief could use. After 
 breakfast I made my way up, up, and to the Shaffer farm, 
 where the terminal of the railroad was located at that time, 
 and took a glad seat in a comfortable coach, and I found my- 
 -self enjoying my Christmas dinner under my own rooftree. 
 JMow, reader, can you see any good luck about this trip: 
 Perhaps you can better understand the buoyancy of my feel- 
 ings if I tell you I doubled my money by that one day's run 
 -on the raging Allegheny. The reason is apparent. Winter 
 was so near at hand that the man that I bought the lumber 
 ■of feared to run the lumber when such slush as I have been 
 writing about was liable to tie up navigation for the winter at 
 any hour. Consequently, he gave me a low price for taking 
 the risk of rafting so far out of season. Now, what do you 
 think of my luck ? 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 A PUBLIC SPIRITED AND SUCCESSFUL EDITOR. 
 
 These chapters would not be complete without a reference 
 to one of the most lively, energetic and public spirited men to 
 be found in the oil regions. This man commenced in his 
 younger days as a writer from the oil towns. A visit to a 
 dozen towns a day, and a letter sent from each town, to the 
 lucky paper that had him for a correspondent, was just a play 
 spell for him. He soon developed into an oil scout — a very 
 important part of the oil business in the early days of oil- 
 dom — and the new well that came in without a diagnosis from 
 
A SUCCESSFUL EDITOR. 69 
 
 his eagle eyes, was far away, indeed, and had a good dark 
 hiding place in some swamp, or far-off section. This man, 
 to make a long story short, kept on rising until he owns and 
 edits the only paper on earth that gives a complete account 
 of the oil business. About the first literature to meet the 
 eye of the writer of "Old Times in Oildom" as he has stepped 
 into hundreds and hundreds of oil derricks, is this man's 
 newspaper. In the oil business it is regarded as indespensible, 
 all the way from the millionaire owner of many wells to the 
 poorest pumper. 
 
 As showing the enterprise of this man it is only necessary 
 to mention that he bought and placed in his large establish- 
 ment one of the first linotypes ever used out of the great cities 
 of New York and Chicago. To show how he is regarded by 
 his fellow workers in the newspaper field it is only necessary 
 to mention that he was one of the first presidents of the In- 
 ternational League of Press clubs. With all this he is a model 
 of modesty. If he was aware of my writing this he would 
 soon draw his blue pencil through this scribble of mine. Well, 
 reader, you already know the name of the paper, and the 
 editor. But fearing that this may fall into the hands of some 
 backwoods reader, in this wide world of ours — some one 
 who knows little or nothing of journalism and the wide, wide 
 world, I'll proceed to give the name. The name of the paper 
 is the Oil City Derrick, and the name of the editor is P. C. 
 Boyle. My first acquaintance with Mr. Boyle was at the hang- 
 ing of young Tracy, at Smetheport, Pa. Tracy had made a 
 lengthy statement, and left it with his lawyer — not to be read 
 until after the hanging. Mr. Boyle was then a correspondent 
 of the Titusville Herald. Many other correspondents were 
 there from the New York Herald. New York Tribune, New 
 York World and other papers. Their fingers were itching 
 for this statement. Immediately after the execution Mr. Boyle 
 hurried to Tracy's lawyer and borrowed the document, tell- 
 ing the lawyer that he wanted to copy it. The last train for 
 the day was ready to leave. Mr. Boyle made all haste to the 
 depot, and sent the story by express to the Titusville Herald, 
 which had column after column of this "confession" the next 
 morning, and the big New York correspondents were obliged 
 to go to the Herald for their "news," one day late. 
 
70 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. ^ 
 
 Venango county people have all heard of Judge Cross, of 
 Clintonville. I am now going to tell about something that 
 happened long before the Drake well was thought of. I 
 tell this to show what a wonderful memory some people 
 have. About 50 years ago I traveled all one summer with a 
 concert company. In the meanderings of our musical ag- 
 gregation we struck Franklin — that "Nursery of Great Men." 
 Our show held forth two nights in the old Presbyterian 
 church. And, by the way, I engaged the use of that church 
 of "Plumb" McCalmont, the then brilliant young lawyer and 
 afterwards the greatest temperance advocate in Western Penn- 
 sylvania. Mr. McCalmont was a genial gentleman. Even 
 then he made the green young fiddler and showman feel right 
 at home as he tramped along with him to a back street to 
 show him the capacity of the old red clap-boarded church. 
 Judge Cross was one of the associate judges of Venango 
 county at that time. Accompanied by his daughter he was at- 
 tending court that week. They stopped at the same hotel 
 with our famous concert troupe of two violins, two singers 
 and one melodeon. Both nights the judge and his daughter 
 attended our musical entertainments. Twenty years after that 
 I went down to Pittsburg as an oar puller on a lumber raft 
 and came back by stage. The route led through Clintonville. 
 When nearing the little town I asked the stage driver if Judge 
 Cross lived there. He said: "Yes, he is now postmaster." 
 I made this remark in the hearing of the stage full of pas- 
 sengers: "I saw the Judge 20 years ago at Franklin and 
 have not seen him since." The stage driver replied in this 
 wise : "If he saw you 20 years ago he will know you now." 
 I told the driver that could not be as when I saw the judge 
 I was dressed fit for a showman — a great contrast between 
 my clothes then and now. "I am returning from 'a trip down 
 the river' with old dirty clothes and have slept in a raft shanty 
 bunk with nothing but straw for a bed for the last eight nights 
 and I am 20 years older, 20 years dirtier and 20 years ras- 
 geder." The driver said: "That makes no difference. If 
 Judge Cross ever sees any man, woman or child once he will 
 know them if he ever sees them again. Come in and wait 
 while he changes the mail and when he sees you he will know 
 you." When the stage drew up to the door of the judge's 
 store in which was the postoffice I walked into the store and 
 
A SUCCESSFUL EDITOR. 71 
 
 took a seat on the farthest end of the counter. The whole 
 stage load of passengers had become so much interested that 
 all followed me into the store and stood around as very much 
 interested spectators awaiting the result. The judge sat be- 
 hind the boxes busily sorting the mail. He inadvertently cast 
 his eyes in my direction and immediately exclaimed: "Isn't 
 your name Brown?" Then a big roar of laughter came from 
 the stage load of passengers, and the stage driver claimed a 
 victory. 
 
 I will say a few words about the old Noble & Delamater 
 well, near Pioneer, on Oil Creek. What I am going to relate 
 many old people already know, some middle-aged people know 
 about it, but not many young people have heard of it. When 
 the well was drilled in it flowed at an average of nearly 1,500 
 barrels a day for the first year. The price of oil was $14 per 
 barrel — no wonder the proprietors started two banks, one in 
 Erie and another in Meadville. The well was drilled on the 
 very edge of the lease. The adjoining lease holder thought he 
 could plainly see a "scoop" and lost no time in putting up a 
 derrick, nearly touching the Noble & Delamater rig. He soon 
 had a neighboring well in close proximity to the big gusher. 
 The theory is that the Noble & Delamater well struck a cre- 
 vice in the rock. In other words, the crevice was composed of 
 one crack in a solid rock, with the oil flowing through it. Be 
 that as it may, the cute business man that tried to tap the 
 source of the Noble & Delamater fortune did not .even grease 
 his drilling rope. This shows the uncertainty of the oil 
 business. And about a mile from this great money maker oc- 
 curred an exemplification of the uncertainty of keeping money 
 when once in your possession. Mr. Benninghoff, whose farm 
 was second to none in the production of oil, bought a safe to 
 store his immense piles of greenbacks in, thereby saving him 
 many long trips to town to deposit the burden of cash, which 
 poured in upon him daily. While quietly seated at his farm- 
 house table, surrounded by his wife and happy farmer sons 
 and daughters, a gang of rufiian robbers entered, and at the 
 point of many revolvers, they were obliged to watch and see 
 their honest cash carried off — ^by the $100,000 — by the lowest 
 pieces of humanity that God ever permitted to walk the earth. 
 
72 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 SOMETHING ABOUT GAS. ' 
 
 In these chapters I have said but Httle about gas. In fact I 
 tell little in these chapter that would permit being called "Old 
 Times in Gasdom," instead of "Old Times in Oildom." Just 
 think a moment — those of our readers who were on earth 
 when the first big flow of gas was struck at Titusville on the 
 Jonathan Watson farm. The first big flow of gas was not 
 worth ten cents ; not good for anything in fact but to scatter 
 the nice flowing yellow oil to the four points of the compass 
 For years after that the gas from the many wells in the oil 
 region was more of a nuisance than a benefit. It caused con- 
 siderable expense. The owners of the wells were obliged to 
 buy iron pipes to carry the gas to a safe distance from the well, 
 where it was burned, to prevent the mischief it might do. And 
 mischief it did do in hundreds of cases. It killed the lamented 
 Henry R. Rouse, and several others with him at the same 
 time, besides disfiguring for life a score or more. Many lives 
 have been lost and much property destroyed before this vapor 
 was finally bridled by the ingenuity of man. The operators in 
 Butler and other sections soon found a safe way to destroy 
 this terror. They laid a pipe, as described, touched a match to 
 the gas, thereby destroying its power to kill. I stood on a 
 high eminence in Butler county one night, and counted 63 
 great gas torches high up in the air. It was a grand sight. 
 But oh ! the millions of money that was vanishing, all un- 
 awares to mankind. Even "Cal" Payne, who at that time 
 lived in his big new house, at the city of Butler, was doing 
 his full share in destroying one of the best servants of mankind 
 ever known. I guess he knows something about it now, as he 
 sits on the throne and gives directions in regard to this vapor, 
 as it lights millions of homes with a brighter light than oil, 
 and softer light than electricity. And more than that — it cooks 
 millions of meals, and good housewives have only to strike a 
 match, and one match may even suffice for all winter. My 
 own little town of Youngsville would be in comparative dark- 
 ness if not for this mischievous gas. Instead of a dim flicker- 
 ing street lamp, as in nights of old, we now have street lamps 
 on nearly every corner and one bright light greets another all 
 
SOMETHING ABOUT GAS. 73 
 
 over the borough. The Forest Gas Company leads this once 
 uncontrollable stuff, in iron pipes, from away over the Alle- 
 gheny river, in the wilds of Forest county, to nearly every 
 room in nearly every house in Youngsville. All stores and 
 public places are a bright blaze of light. Did you ever think 
 of the triple benefit of this excellent illuminant. First, it saves 
 you from straining your eyes while reading at night; second, 
 it saves much hard work in cleaning lamps ; and third, it saves 
 a vast amount of wood chopping and whittling shavings every 
 time a little fire is started. People within range of the gas 
 are apt to forget to be thankful every day that gas was struck 
 in their time and that it was not postponed until another 
 generation. And I must not forget to say that another great 
 benefit is derived from this source. The young timber, in- 
 stead of being cut up for fire wood, is allowed to grow up into 
 high priced lumber all over the gas producing region. 
 
 The great ruler of the universe — God — will provide for fu- 
 ture generations. This is only one of the many benefits that 
 will be vouchsafed to the millions of people who will come to 
 fill our tracks after we have traveled that unreturnable journey. 
 Great is gas, and it came from small beginnings. 
 
 When oil was stored in large iron tanks to a greater extent 
 that it is since the Standard Oil Company commenced the bus- 
 iness of transporting it directly from the wells to the refineries, 
 lightning played a conspicuous part in depleting the producer's 
 bank account. Now and then, a tank is struck by lightning, 
 even yet, but a good share runs to the refineries or to the sea- 
 coast safely under ground in iron pipes, free from danger from 
 lightning. I have seen a great many tanks burning after being 
 struck by lightning and the most dangerous one of the lot that 
 I have seen was one at Monterey, Clarion county. Pa., about 
 28 years ago. Near a half dozen large tanks, of about 28,000 
 barrels capacity, stood on the left bank of the Allegheny river 
 at Monterey. They stood on a sidehill, about 40 rods from 
 the railroad tracks and the river. One morning during a heavy 
 thunder storm lightning struck one of the tanks and there was 
 a wicked blaze immediately. It burned all day and in the 
 evening a carload of us traveled five miles in a chartered car 
 on the Allegheny Valley railroad to see the tremendous big 
 black blaze. At this time I was a reporter for the Erie Daily 
 Dispatch, and I went v/ith the crowd for the purpose of report- 
 
74 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 ing this oil fire. A couple of hundred people, both men and 
 women, had gathered about this great blaze and about 3 
 o'clock in the afternoon, the overflow that always comes when 
 a full tank of oil burns about half way down, came, and rivers 
 of burning oil started down the sidehill. The volume before 
 spreading was about four feet high. For some unaccountable 
 reason, I happened to be below, right in the way of this burn- 
 ing oil. All the others happened to be off at one side, where 
 they easily got out of the range of the burning fluid. I was 
 the only one who had a nip-and-tuck race with the flames. I 
 ran slantingly across the sidehill towards a piece of woods. 
 I came to a rail fence which I climbed on the double quick and 
 dodged into the woods. As I wpnt under the trees the blaze 
 from the burning oil struck the tops of the trees over my head 
 with an ugly roar. As I ran the heat struck my back with 
 great force and I was quite strong in the belief that there 
 would soon be one less reporter for the Erie Daily Dispatch. 
 But as was my luck, when I struck the edge of the woods, 
 I found a rise in the ground that turned the oil straight down 
 the sidehill, leaving a breathless correspondent sitting on a log, 
 thanking God for a deliverance from sudden death. This was 
 a fire to be remembered, as it cleared a couple of acres of 
 woodland between the oil tanks and the railroad. The burn- 
 ing oil poured down the hill, devouring green trees and every- 
 thing it came to. It swept the Allegheny Valley railroad 
 tracks, stopping trains for a day or two, burned a planing 
 mill, a lumber yard, several dwelling houses and a barn — then 
 poured a great buring stream into the river — a stream which 
 spread from shore to shore and floated Pittsburgward. It was 
 a strange sight indeed to see that broad expanse of fire tower- 
 ing high and moving down the old Allegheny on top of the 
 water 
 
 I began this chapter by speaking of gas. I am reminded 
 by this Monterey fire of the Wilcox (Pa.) burning well. Here 
 was another gas freak. I and three others drove four miles 
 from the Wilcox hotel to see the famous burning well. We 
 were amply rewarded for the trip. When we arrived it was 
 dark. Every seven minutes, without fail, the gas would throw 
 the oil and water nearly twice as high as the derrick. Each 
 time when the flow would come, a man with a long pole, 
 having an oiled rag on the end of it, would reach out the full 
 
YOUNGSVILLE'S PROSPECTS. 75 
 
 length of this pole and set fire to the oil and gas. The gas 
 would throw an eight-inch stream far up into the air. The 
 water would form itself into a barrel shape, and the gas and 
 oil would go straight up this round tunnel, all ablaze, entirely 
 encircled by the water. Then the water would spread and fall 
 in beautiful spray, forming all colors of the rainbow. Such 
 a sight taking place every seven minutes cannot be described 
 by my weak pen. This free show has long since gone into 
 "innocuous desuetude." It is doubtful if ever a counterpart 
 of this wonderful Wilcox well will ever be seen again. This 
 is an age of wonders, and perhaps something will turn up in 
 this picturesque line that will excel the wonders of the burn- 
 ing well at Wilcox. But, I say again, it is doubtful. 
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 YOUNGSVILLE'S PROSPECTS OF OIL AND GAS. 
 
 It is rumored that parties from Oil City are quietly leasing 
 land around the Allegheny sulphur springs, about one mile 
 south of Youngsville, with the intention of giving this terri- 
 tory a thorough test. I have already mentioned the small 
 wells about Youngsville. I left off a description of the work 
 that has been done along the Brokenstraw creek, between 
 Youngsville and Irvineton. Twenty years ago five wells were 
 drilled within a distance of two miles. All produced more or 
 less oil, but not quite enough in the minds of the diflferent 
 owners to justify the expense of pumping them. It takes quite 
 a good well to pay the expense of pumping one well, but 
 when a dozen small wells are pumped by one engine the case 
 is different. No two wells have ever been hitched together 
 in Youngsville and vicinity, although there are about a dozen 
 of them. A "second crop" operator could probably make 
 money by getting control of a half dozen or more of these 
 and harnessing them together. The owners of a majority of 
 these wells contented themselves by sand-pumping the well 
 until they got a wagon load. Then they would drive to War- 
 ren refinery and sell it. But I am wandering from my subject 
 — the five wells along the Brokenstraw creek. One of the five 
 was owned by A. McKinney and others. It produced about 
 
76 OLD TIMES IN 01 LOOM. 
 
 two barrels a day by flowing. The owners put up a 250- 
 barrel tank to receive the oil. The well flowed at intervals 
 until there was about 1 50 barrels of oil in the tank — a wooden 
 one. Then came the great flood when so many lost their lives, 
 at Oil City and Titusville. The Brokenstraw creek went over 
 its bank doing about $200,(X>o damage in the Brokenstraw 
 valley. The tremendous rush of water swept everything off 
 this lease — tank of oil, and all. That was the last work done 
 on that lease to this day. But the well flows occasionally — up 
 to the present date. The oil is not saved, however. Some 
 day the well may be cleaned and tested. This same com- 
 pany drilled a well about 200 rods above the one just spoken 
 of and it was nearly a mate for it. I, with my own eyes, saw 
 the above mentioned well flow about three barrels of oil into a 
 wooden tank in the space of 15 minutes after being "shut in" 
 two days. Although this was the time of the great flood this 
 last named well has continued to flow and many a wagon load 
 has been drawn to the Warren refineries from it. Now we 
 come along up the creek a few dozen rods and another well 
 has about the same history, only the oil that it flows has not 
 been saved. Then we come along up about 60 rods and we 
 find the most abused well in the lot. It tried to be something 
 but the superintendent "shut up shop" when it did not prove 
 to be a great gusher without cleaning out the quicksand that 
 gathered with oil and gas in fair quantities in the hole. At 
 the west end of this two miles of wells, with not a dry hole, 
 is a vast expanse of territory which has never been tested. 
 
 I recently read a communication in the Oil City Derrick 
 from the Rev. P. S. G. Bissell, concerning his father's claim 
 to the honor of drilling the first oil well. Then I read in the 
 Derrick the editorial comment on the letter. I saw the Drake 
 well the second day after oil was struck. I have seen George- 
 H. Bissell many times at Titusville. I have stopped at the 
 same hotel with him, conversed with him, and I always found 
 him to be a very agreeable gentleman and a strong believer in 
 the great future of the oil business, but I never heard his 
 name mentioned as the discoverer of the first oil well. It was 
 Drake, Drake, Drake, on all sides there at Titusville, but never 
 once Bissell — so far as I ever heard. The name of Colonel 
 E. L. Drake has been a fireside word the whole world over. 
 How many of the young people at the present time, have ever- 
 
YOUNGSVILLE'S PROSPECTS 77 
 
 heard of George H. Bissell? The intelHgent business men 
 who furnished the money to pay for the fine memorial in 
 Titusvihe cemetery are not Hkely to make a mistake and put 
 the momument over the wrong man. If George Washington's 
 monument had been named Thomas Jefferson's, it would have 
 looked funny. To my mind, the editorial in the Derrick re- 
 lating to Queen Isabella and Mr. Bissell did not go far enough 
 There was quite a difference between the two. Queen Isabella 
 did not drop Christopher, but continued to furnish the "ding- 
 bats" until the discovery was made. She did not let the bur- 
 den fall on a Fletcher or a Wilson, as did men who are now 
 trying to take the honors away from Drake. 
 
 How things have changed since I was a boy! I saw this 
 country when it was, you might say. "a howling wilderness.'' 
 Tall pine trees darkened the country in places, as far as the 
 eye could reach. A large part of it belonged to the Huide- 
 kopers, of Meadville, Pa. Each quarter sessions of court at 
 Warren two of the brothers would drive in a covered car- 
 riasre to Warren on Mondav and write contracts and deeds all 
 the week. All the people in this section of the country thought 
 the Huidekopers "some punkins." Everybody tipped their 
 hat-s when they met the Huidekopers driving their fine team of 
 matched horses hitched to a shiny covered carriage. A man 
 in a covered buggy those days, looked bigger than a man in 
 an automobile does nowadays. And the price — there was but 
 little difference between giving the timberland away as at 
 present and selling it at only $1.50 an acre. Think of good 
 soil for farming, covered with the finest of pine timber, bring- 
 ing the magnificent price of $1.50 per acre! I myself borrow- 
 ed $150 of that kind-hearted and wealthy gentleman, John 
 McKinney, often called the "Uncle to Standard Oil," and paid 
 Huidekopers for one hundred (100) acres of good land, 
 covered with the best of pine timber, and one year from the 
 time of borrowing the money had paid back the money. And 
 the Good Samaritan that he always was, would not take one 
 cent of interest. Was not that getting land on easy terms ? 
 
 The Huidekopers had their own troubles, as "all the sons 
 of men" have in this business world. Timber thieves were 
 numerous. Nearly every man that made shaved shingles 
 helped himself to all the pine timber that he manufactured into 
 shingles the year around. The Huidekopers tried to guard 
 
78 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 against this wholesale robbery by engaging men who lived in 
 the vicinity to watch their property. This plan did not even 
 retard the shingle making business. The many shingle makers 
 never lost a day's work after the appointment of the watchers. 
 The watchers seemed to have enough of business of their own 
 on hand, without meddling with the shingle making of their 
 neighbors — at least not according to my best recollection, was 
 a man ever arrested for stealing timber. The woods were full 
 of shingle makers. There were no shingles sawed in those 
 days. Shingle mills were unknown. The shingles were all 
 split out with a f row^ and maul, then shaved on a "shaving- 
 horse" and packed into half-thousand bunches, and they were 
 ready for the Pittsburg market. Nearly the whole output of 
 shingles in this then vast lumber country was hauled to Brok 
 enstraw eddy on bobsleds in the winter time, and then piled 
 on board rafts in the spring and run to Pittsburg and sold to 
 the farmers all around the Iron City, and far into the Buckeye 
 State. Not all stopped in Pittsburg, as many of these rafts 
 ran the whole length of the Ohio river. Cincinnati got quite a 
 share of this shingle trade. But I am wandering from this 
 stealing trade subject. This cutting Huidekopers' pine timber 
 became so respectable and safe that a man was thought just 
 as much of when working up stolen timber as if it was his 
 own. It was a common occurrence for a couple of men to go 
 into the woods, build a shanty on Huidekoper land, and live in 
 the shanty all summer and pick out the best pine trees and 
 make them into shingles, without even a thought of wrong 
 doing or of being arrested for theft. In fact, these men often 
 stole the timber from each other, after the first man had cut 
 the timber lengths, ready for the frow. In one case amuse- 
 ment comes in. A certain man living about a mile from 
 Youngsville hired another man to help him saw and split into 
 bolts a goodly pile of this timber, for his own use when he 
 would get the time to work it up. A short time after a neigh- 
 bor came to him and asked the loan of this ready cut timber 
 for a short time, or until he could get time to steal and cut 
 enough to pay it back. The man that owned the timber re- 
 fused to lend it to his neighbor, as he was ready to com- 
 mence the job of manufacturing the stuff into shingles. Then 
 it was that the would-be borrower, without a blush, made this 
 remark: "I have already made that timber into shingles and 
 
YOUNGSVILLE'S PROSPECTS 79 
 
 sold them, but I will cut more on the same lot and pay you 
 back soon." He never make his promise good, and as it would 
 be a delicate and dangerous business for one thief to arrest 
 another, the transaction dropped right here. All the satis- 
 faction ever gotten out of it was that the thief of the first 
 part seemed to enjoy himself in telling his neighbors what a 
 mean man the thief of the second part was. The writer of this 
 got this unbelievable story from the man who stole and sawed 
 the timber. Both men have long since gone to put in their 
 claims to heavenly mansions not covered with pine shingles. 
 
 This stealing timber business is not guess work with me. I 
 once bought two tall and large pine trees from Judge William 
 Siggins. This was a legitimate transaction. The stealing 
 comes right in as soon as I can get this pencil to it. I hired 
 a neighbor to help me cut the trees down, saw them into 
 "double lengths," and pile them up, ready for hauling to our 
 shingle shanty to be manufactured into shingles. When the 
 time came I yoked up "Buck" and "Bright," the very faithful 
 old ox team belonging to my father and hitched them to the 
 woodenshod sled and drove two miles in to the forest where 
 I expected to get a load of my timber, but I din't. Not a 
 bolt was to be seen. Then I began to look for tracks. I 
 found sled tracks in abundance, but a lack of timber. I followed 
 the sled tracks about a mile and found my timber snugly piled 
 up by the side of another man's shanty. The man was con- 
 tentedly smoking a pipe and shaving shingles. He looked up 
 — without any appearance of embarrassment — with a smile 
 and a hearty "good morning." I soon broached the subject 
 nearest my heart and inquired the cause of my timber being 
 piled at the wrong shanty. He answered in these words : "I 
 got in a hurry for some shingles and took yours ; I will cut it 
 on the Huidekopers' land and pay it back to your right way." 
 I told him that I must have those shingles and as he had made 
 4,000 already and a large hill would have to be climbed before 
 reaching my shanty, I would give him the "going price" for 
 making up the balance of the timber, about 16,000 shingles, 
 and delivering them at Brokenstraw creek raft landing. He 
 readily agreed to my proposition. But when I came around 
 for a settlement, he had worked up all the timber and sold all 
 the shingles, and pocketed all the money. In place of putting 
 the sheriff on him immediately, I took his promise to replace 
 
8o OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 them in a fixed time. He never paid me a dollar, and I was 
 green enough to let it stand until he, too, crossed over where 
 no sheriff annoys. i 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 BAD OIL SPECULATION. 
 
 My experiences were not extensive as an oil operator. My 
 first, last and only venture in drilling a well was on Cherry 
 run, in Rouseville. When the oil business was yet in a very 
 crude state, J. C. and D. Mead and I, formed a co-partnership, 
 and leased one acre of the old Smith farm, at Cherry run, so 
 close to Rouseville that it was really a part of the village. 
 Having a majority vote of "the company," I was elected as 
 superintendent. This was making a superintendent out of 
 raw material. But no more raw than a majority of the bosses 
 in that early day of the oil business. Superintendents that had 
 learned the business were not to be found, as the business had 
 not been learned by any living man. It was "cut and try" 
 with the best of operators at that time. I am very sure it was 
 ''cut and try" with my company. I am quite certain as I was 
 the "cutter and tryer." And there is no use in postponing the 
 acknowledgement that I was not a howling success at the oil 
 business. My first work requried more muscle than brains. 
 The work consisted of chopping down a big white oak tree, on 
 the sidehill above Rouseville, and hewing out a sampson 
 post. I did about half the work on all the timber framing for 
 our derrick and engine house. But now comes in the brain 
 work. After consultation with my partners who knew as 
 little about the business as I did, I bought an old boiler and a 
 new engine. The boiler was somewhat antiquated, and in 
 shape and size it would compare favorably with a 12-foot 
 average saw log. One little "lackage" about this boiler was 
 the fact that it did not have a single flue in it, and it showed 
 weakness from the very start. After much tribulation and 
 vexation, and consultation with my partners in the venture, T 
 concluded to sell the old cylinder and replace it with an up- 
 to-date boiler. I forget the price of this new fangled boiler, 
 full of flues, but it took quite a little pile of notes on the "State 
 
BAD OIL SPECULATION. 8i 
 
 Bank of Ohio" to pay for it, and commence operations. The 
 cost of coal was an item that bore down hard on oil operators. 
 We used Cranberry coal, at $1.25 per bushel, delivered at the 
 well. This seems funny now when all around us millions of 
 feet of gas are being piped away from the wells. It compares 
 favorably with work that I helped my father do when I was a 
 boy. When clearing land for farming we would girdle nice, 
 green, pine trees, killing them, so that they would not shade the 
 crops, or cut beautiful clear stuff, red oak, into logs, hitch oxen 
 to them, haul them and roll them up into "log heaps," with 
 much hard lifting, and burn them. And this burning was no 
 "fool of a job," as the timber was very green and soggy. It 
 needed punching up while burning, at very short intervals. It 
 required much attention for two or three days and nights be- 
 fore the last embers were consumed. This same red oak tim- 
 ber — if standing on the ground today, would bring $30 per 
 thousand feet, without the owner touching it. We have two 
 large furniture factories in Youngsville which consume 20,000 
 or 30,000 feet of just such lumber daily. A part of it is now 
 brought by rail from West Virginia. 
 
 But let me get back to my oil business again. When this 
 Cherry run well was finished, it had cost about $3,000. It 
 was a fair producer, about 10 barrels a day. Oil at that time 
 was brining $3 per barrel. But in the course of a year the out- 
 put commenced falling off, and as the Roberts torperdoes were 
 beginning to make a stir in the oil region, my partners asked 
 me to go to Rouseville and have a shot put in our well. I told 
 them that I would go down and attend to that shooting in 10 
 days. The Warren County Agricultural Fair, of which I was 
 chairman, was on hand, and I did not propose to put "business 
 before pleasure," but stayed by the agriculturists until the end 
 of that year's exhibition. One of the Mead brothers became 
 impatient with this delay, and went down to Rouseville and 
 sold out our lease at a ridiculously low figure to Mr. Nelson, a 
 Philadelphia operator. This purchaser immediately did what 
 I should have done — had a shot of glycerine put in it. This 
 shot brought the well up to 40 barrels a day, and convinced 
 Mr. Mead that he acted a little hastily in the premises. If 
 he had waited until the close of the county fair that glycerine 
 shot would have put quite a sum of money in our pockets, in- 
 stead of passing into Mr. Nelson's. We were having another 
 
82 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 well drilled on the other end of this acre which came in as good 
 a producer. But my being so slow and Mead so fast deprived 
 our company of doing much in the way of oil operations. 
 
 The old times in the oil country were frequently enlivened 
 by fire getting started in the tinder-box houses forming all 
 new oil towns. I was running a lumber yard at Karns City at 
 the time that that quite noted town went up in smoke. I 
 owned an opera house, a building for a lumber office and 
 Western Union telegraph office, lumber yard and hotel, all 
 located in the lower end of the town. Fire companies came 
 from Millerstown, Petrolia, and Parker City just in time to 
 stop the fire before it reached any of my property. In fact, 
 nearly every building in town was burned except mine. I 
 scored good luck for once. The fire started in a little store. 
 The proprietor was away from home. The story flew fast 
 that the man, a Hebrew, by the way, had been burned out 
 three times and had been insured every time. When the man 
 came home the next day an angry crowd met him on the street 
 and accused him of being the cause of their homes being in 
 ashes. The man turned white with fear in a moment and pro- 
 tested his innocence. But his hearers were crazy mad and 
 threatened him with lynching. A rope was procured and pre- 
 parations made to hang him to the nearest tree. Just then the 
 constable arrested him and started with his prisoner for the 
 lock-up. On the way to the lock-up an amateur cowboy sent 
 a rope whirling through the air three times, but each time it 
 failed to coil around the man's neck. I never saw a lynch- 
 ing bee, but I might have seen one if that rope had caught 
 on around the man's neck, as lots of men were ready to grab 
 the end of the rope and run for the nearest tree. That night 
 a trial was had before 'Squire Stewart and the store proprietor 
 was sent to the Butler jail for safe keeping. He remained in 
 jail a few days and then caused the arrest of his captors for 
 false imprisonment. He proved that he was in Clarion all day 
 on the day of the fire. He also proved that his wife's gold 
 watch and chain and all of his best clothes were burned, and 
 that one child, through fright, ran and concealed itself under 
 a bed and was accidentally discovered just in time to save it 
 from a horrible death. The would-be lynchers had to pay 
 quite dearly for their cowboy play. 
 
 Although this fire swept the most of Karns City from the 
 
H. P. KINNEAR AND THE I. 0. O. F. 83 
 
 face of Butler county, no lives were lost. But after all this, 
 when a hotel had been built near the depot of the Parker & 
 Karns City railroad, a terrible loss of life took place when the 
 hotel burned — seven perishing. The hotel people and two 
 transient lodgers were burned. But this was not as bad as the 
 hotel fire at Chicora a short time before that, Avhen eight 
 people were cremated in one hotel, and many more injured. I 
 was an eye witness to this holocaust. 
 
 If all the sudden and tragic deaths that have taken place in 
 the oil region since the Drake well was drilled, were men- 
 tioned, it would fill a large sized book. Of the hundreds and 
 hundreds of lives lost by glycerine I will mention just one that 
 took place over on Bear creek when the stuff let go with a jar 
 that broke plate glass windows in Parker City, two miles 
 away over a hill. I accepted an inviation from a Mr. Stephen- 
 son to ride with him in his buggy to the place indicated by the 
 sound. When we reached the spot we found a great hole in 
 the ground, about eight feet deep and eight feet in diameter. 
 About one-half of a horse lay in the road unscathed, cut as 
 clean as it could be done with a knife. It was the forward 
 part of the animal that lay in the road cut through the middle 
 about half way between the fore legs and the hind legs. The 
 hind quarters were nowhere to be seen. Only a little of the 
 wagon could be found. Not a vestige of the well-shooter could 
 be discovered except a portion of the skin of his face. That 
 was found hanging on a bush about 20 rods away. One wagon 
 tire was driven through a hemlock tree a foot in diameter. 
 
 I might describe many other scenes that I have observed in 
 the torpedo line. I have stood in three different towns, and 
 have seen plate glass breaking, and falling onto the sidewalks, 
 all caused by glycerine magazines exploding — Butler, Willow 
 Grove and Parker City. Death followed in the wake of all 
 these explosions. 
 
 CHAPTER XXHL 
 
 H. P. KINNEAR AND THE I. O. O. F. 
 
 What changes come with time ! As I, with my mind's eye, 
 look back through the years, many things come to me that, 
 to say the least, are surprising. A few remarks about Youngs- 
 
8.4 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 ville lodge, No. 500, I. O. O. F., will not be amiss. There 
 were about 50 members when I joined, a half century ago. 
 Only one, besides myself, is a member today — David McKee, 
 of Corry, Pa. I am the only one living within the vicinity of 
 the lodge room. The Kinnears, Meads, Siggins, Johnsons, 
 Blodgetts and others — all gone — either dropped out of the 
 order, left the town or have passed to the Grand Lodge be- 
 yond. Reader, try and put yourself in my place. Think of 
 stepping into lodge with over 200 members all initiated since I 
 was shown the secret workings of the order. Is it any wonder 
 that a gentleman living in this town recently published the 
 alleged fact that I had "long since passed the age of imbecility." 
 The gentleman himself is no "spring chicken," and if God lets 
 him live as long as he has let me live, he will not be one 
 day younger than I am now. 
 
 Several items are worth mentioning in "Old Times in Oil- 
 dom" concerning this lodge. Mr. Kinnear, who was the 
 originator of this lodge nearly 60 years ago, was the moving 
 spirit in the business of the lodge and all other movements for 
 the upbuilding of Youngsville. He was the representative of 
 the lodge at the Grand Lodge of Pennsylvania every year of 
 its existence, from its organization until he passed beyond all 
 earthly things. He voted on the destiny of No. 500 about 45 
 years. Mr. Kinnear was one of the go-ahead men of his day. 
 He held the office of sheriff of Warren county for two terms ; 
 represented the county in the legislature two terms ; was one of 
 the founders of Point Chautauqua ; held the triple position of 
 chairman of the commmittee on Grand hotel, superintendent of 
 the grounds of the association and treasurer from the time of 
 the starting of this association up to the time of the destruc- 
 tion of the great summer resort by fire. To enumerate all the 
 achievements of this public spirited man for the interest of 
 Youngsville would take more space than can be spared. Suf- 
 fice it to say that he "builded better than he knew," for upon 
 the foundation that he laid the liveliest and best town of its 
 size in Western Pennsylvania stands today. Mr. Kinnear 
 was president of the Youngsville Savings Bank at the time of 
 his death, 22 years ago. His picture hangs on the wal^ of the 
 lodge room and is a smiling reminder of the founder of the 
 second lodge organized in Warren county. The three-story 
 building, constructed of wood, is owned by the lodge, and next 
 
H. P. KINNEAR AND THE I. O. O. F. 85 
 
 year it will be replaced by a fine brick building of modern de- 
 sign. Youngsville is proud of another man who has been a 
 credit to the place — the Hon. William H. Short, who is 86 
 years of age and who steps along the streets without the aid of 
 a cane. He has been a man of ability and business, a resident 
 of Youngsville since a boy. He has filled the offices of every- 
 thing that the borough of Youngsville could bestow upon him, 
 besides being president of Sugar Grove Savings Bank for 
 many years. He was one of the directors of the far-famed 
 Chautauqua founded by the great Vincent, a member of the 
 State Legislature, two terms, and, last but not least, Mr. Short 
 has filled the office of United States consul of Cardiff, Wales. 
 
 Youngsville has many excellent business men of a younger 
 generation, but I am writing of "old-timers" and the younger 
 men must be left out for the present. 
 
 A little incident that came near being a big incident is this : 
 I, in partnership with William Davis, built a boat for the 
 purpose of sending out of Oil Creek, oil by the barrel, into Oil 
 Cit}^ When finished we floated it out into the river, prepara- 
 tory to going to the Hub of Oildom. When we were about to 
 cut loose from Youngsville 40 ladies came on board for a ride 
 of three miles to Irvineton. As it was a flat bottomed boat, 
 with no seating capacity, the ladies were obliged to stand up 
 during their ride. When nearing the Irvineton mill dam, your 
 humble servant, who had the distinction of being pilot of the 
 craft, discovered the disagreeable fact that the water pouring 
 over the dam was hardly deep enough to run the boat over 
 lengthwise; so to make sure of not sticking on the high dam, 
 I plied my oar with much vigor until the boat was lengthwise 
 of the dam, thereby catching all the water in the creek from 
 shore to shore. The boat obeyed the rudder to perfection and 
 the water was found to be deep enough to carry the boat over. 
 But now comes the sequel. The pilot never had this experience 
 before, always finding the water deep enough to run the boat 
 endways. I did not have forethought enough to let the ladies 
 disembark, walk past the dam, then run the light boat over the 
 dam and land, taking them on again and out into the river 
 eddy, but instead rushed into danger. The boat alighted on the 
 roaring and swirling water on one edge coming up nearly full 
 of water. The ladies all stood in water knee deep, with a 
 chance of the boat sinking any moment. The weig-ht of the 
 
86 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 ladies caused the boat to sink so deep that an inch more would 
 have let the water pour over the top. One inch more and 40 
 ladies and 10 gentlemen would have been floundering in 16 
 feet of water. As it was, by order of the pilot, they all stood 
 perfectly still until the water logged boat, loaded with feminine 
 humanity, slowly floated to more shallow water, where the 
 boatload of fair ones waded ashore and were happily saved. 
 The pilot would have had many lives to answer for if that boat 
 had been a trifle more shallow, but a "miss is as good as a 
 mile." 
 
 I never was troubled by ladies asking me for a boat ride 
 after that trip. Bad management has been the cause of many 
 ships, and many lives being lost. Bad management would have 
 had the same effect in this case, only on a smaller scale. And I 
 may as well tell it all when I am about it. I am now living, 
 and have been for many years, in partnership with the best 
 one of that lot of ladies, but she has never invited me to take 
 her boat riding since that particular occasion. 
 
 Years ago, when I was at Smethport, Pa., I witnessed the 
 only hanging of my lifetime. The readers of this will no 
 doubt call to mind the taking off by the rope route of Young 
 Tracy, for the murder of his sweetheart. The night before 
 the hanging, I spent an hour with W. Ed Marsh, a young 
 lawyer of Corry, Pa., but who had an office in Smethport. 
 The sheriff chanced to call on the young Blackstone. We both 
 tackled him for a ticket admitting us to the jail, where the 
 hanging was to take place. The sheriff was a very kindly 
 man, and told us that his tickets were all gone — ^to 12 wit- 
 nesses, 12 jurymen, several deputies, about 30 newspaper re- 
 porters and a few friends, but if we would come to the front 
 steps of the court house at 2 p. m., he would come and open 
 the door and let us in. My only excuse for asking 
 admisison was that I was a correspondent of the Titusville 
 Herald, but as P. C. Boyle was the regular traveling oil 
 region correspondent for the same paper, and had traveled in 
 ahead of me, m)^ chances seemed slim, for awhile. Well, 2 p. m. 
 next day found us eagerly awaiting the appearance of the 
 sheriff at the door. Ticket holders by the dozen — P. C. Boyle 
 among the number — came rushing along, and handed their 
 pasteboard to the guardian at the door, and passed on to the 
 death chamber. The limb of the law and myself stood on the 
 
H. P. KINNEAR AND THE I. O. O. F. 87 
 
 stone steps of the court house, with a battery of 3,000 pairs of 
 eyes fixed upon us, acting like a couple of little boys trying 
 in some manner to gain entrance to a show, "without money, 
 and without price." 
 
 The situation seemed to work on Mr. Marsh's nerves and he 
 said, "Let us go. The sheriff has forgotten his promise to us 
 and will not be likely to open this door for us. , It is now 10 
 minutes past 2.'' My answer was: "We have not forgotten 
 our promise. We are here as agreed upon. If we leave and 
 he comes, we have broken our promise. Let us do as we 
 have agreed. That agreement was to stay at this door until 
 he comes to let us in." Every few minutes my lawyer friend 
 would renew his request and I would get up new arguments 
 why we should stay. After quite a delay the sheriff, true to his 
 word, opened the door and polietly escorted us to an advan- 
 tageous standing place near the scaffold. We saw a double 
 hanging. Tracy passed within a few feet of us, with a complacent 
 face, and a priest on either side of him, trying to give him 
 spiritual comfort. And, indeed, he did not seem to harbor any 
 fears although death was staring him in the face. He stepped 
 boldly onto the scaffold and when the black cap was drawn 
 over his face and the trap was sprung his body shot down 
 through the opening, the rope became untied from his neck, 
 and he fell nearly on his coffin, which sat beneath the scaf- 
 fold. Then he was pushed back through the opening and 
 another rope was adjusted by ex-Sheriff King and the trap 
 was sprung the second time, and in a few minutes he was 
 pronounced by the physician as dead. It did not require a ver)- 
 long time to get the second rope around his neck, as the sheriff 
 had foresight enough to have the second rope, in case the first 
 one would not hold. A professional hangman, of Buffalo, tied 
 the knots on both ropes ; one held and the other did not. Not 
 very complimentary to his "profession." When the second 
 rope was being adjusted Tracy made the remark, "Jesus, Jo- 
 seph and Mary, save me." I was told by an old citizen of the 
 town that only one man had been hanged in McKean county 
 before this and this man showed exceeding coolness. When 
 he was led onto the scaffold he put one foot on the edge and 
 let his weight on by degrees, before he would trust his whole; 
 weight upon it. 
 
88 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 OIL REGION INHABITANTS. 
 
 In writing of "Old Times in Oildom" I have left off until 
 the 24th chapter what should have come in the first article. 1 
 have, within the last 31 years, organized 475 lodges (158 
 Good Templar lodges and 317 insurance lodges) in New York, 
 Pennsylvania, Ohio, West Virginia and Canada. More than 
 half of these lodges were organized in the oil region, and let 
 me say that no better people are found anywhere than in the 
 oil towns. The towns are made up in general of the best heart • 
 ed people in the world. They are intelligent, industrious, kind 
 and good, and a majority are skilled workmen. Go into any 
 oil town and look at a crowd of greasy, dirty men. The crowd 
 is principally composed of pumpers, drillers, pipe line men, tele- 
 graph operators, rig builders and representatives of other oc- 
 cupations. 
 
 Skill of the first order is required. The oil regions are 
 principally made of educated and go-ahead people. The old 
 drones are not apt to dig out, and move into, and take up the 
 activities of an oil country life. They leave that life to the 
 most energetic of their children. True, there are people living 
 in oil towns who are getting old that commenced an oil country 
 life many years ago. They were young when they took up the 
 business. As to the men making provision for their families, 
 but few die in the oil region leaving their families destitute. 
 
 Many men die and leave more than enough money to bridge 
 over necessities. Many belong to several insurance lodges. It 
 is a common thing to find men carrying from $5,000 to 
 $10,000 insurance. Not only the marired, but the single men, 
 are insured. About five years ago I organized three lodges 
 in succession in Butler county — at West Sunbury, Middletown 
 and Butler. While I was at work in each town a single man 
 was brought home dead and one mother got $3,000, another 
 got $5,000, and another got $1,000. Each young man had 
 named his mother, with the understanding that if he should 
 ever get married the benefit certificate should be changed tn 
 favor of his wife. One of those mothers that I speak of 
 came within a day of losing $3,000. Her son was killed at an 
 oil well just one day before he was to have been married. I 
 
OIL REGION INHABITANTS .89 
 
 write this to show that many young men carry protection. A 
 young man who promises to shield and protect a young wife 
 and then dies and leaves her over a washtub to keep starvation 
 away, is looked upon as failing to do a duty towards a loved 
 one, when he could have protected her by putting a few cents 
 into some lodge treasury once a month. But I am getting away 
 from what I started out to tell. I wish to say to the readers 
 that although some bad characters inhabit the oil towns, that 
 their number is surprisingly small, considering the heterogen- 
 eous crowds which naturally drift into a new oil town from all 
 points of the compass and from nearly all nationalities. It is 
 a remarkable fact that there are towns and towns where 
 there never was a drop of oil found that will outstrip the oil 
 towns, two to one, in all kinds of rascality and meanness. I 
 think I have had an opportunity to judge of this matter. Dur- 
 ing my 31 years' rambling over the states mentioned above, 
 I never felt unsafe many times. 
 
 The first time was between Lines ville, Venango county, Pa., 
 and Edenburg, Clarion county. Pa., near 30 years ago. It 
 was on a bright, shiny Sabbath morning, that I left Linesviile 
 and took the nearest road for Edenburg. I traveled along about 
 two miles, by pleasant farm houses, where all, to a lone 
 traveler, looked happy and serene. Birds were singing their 
 best Sunday tunes, and all nature seemed to be at rest. Then 
 came a sudden change. The pretty farms gave way to a dense 
 thicket of oak and chestnut underbrush. The road led down 
 quite a steep hill, at the foot of which stood an old, very old, 
 two-story log house. Where there had been long ago glass 
 in the windows, old hats, and any old thing that could take 
 the place of a light of window glass, did duty in the way of 
 keeping the wind and rain out. Right opposite the old castle 
 was a cool crystal stream of spring water rippling into a horse 
 trough. So inviting did this look to me that, although not 
 very thirsty, I could not pass such a clear cold stream of 
 water untasted. So I leaned over the rippling waterfall and 
 had just absorbed a couple of swallows of water, when bedlam 
 seemed to have been let loose across the road in the old house. 
 Although it was the holy Sabbath day, profanity poured forth 
 in its rankest form, and a sound came to my ears resembling 
 pots, kettles, chairs and household furniture in general being 
 hurled through the house. I cut out the water drinking very 
 
90 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 suddenly, and took a glance across the road, and there at a 
 front window sat a man with a long black mustache. He had 
 an expresison on his face that was anything but reassuring to 
 me. The man sat with his elbows on the window sill, his face 
 resting on his hands, and his eyes steadily fixed on the lone 
 traveler. I had on my "Sunday-go-to-meeting" clothes, a gold 
 watch and chain, and a new handbag. It did not take very long 
 for the following reasoning to slip through my mind : People 
 that would get up a Sunday morning's battle of both words and 
 fists, might take a notion to inspect my pockets and handbag. 
 Lodge organizers are very seldom worth robbing. But these 
 people did not know that, and I could not tell but what they 
 might take a notion into their heads to find out for themselves, 
 so I put a very unconcerned expression on my face, picked up 
 my satchel and started on my way without a parting look or 
 word. The road led up hill from this habitation, in the 
 little narrow valley in the woods, with dense brush on both 
 sides of the road. I expected very moment to see an investigat- 
 ing party step from this thick underbrush into the road ahead 
 of me. I did some pretty tall Sunday walking up that mile long 
 hill through the woods. And how glad I was to reach the top 
 of that hill, and see a beautiful farm and farmhouse, and hear 
 beautiful strains of music floating out from a quartette of two 
 brothers and two sisters, accompanied by an organ. What a 
 transformation — from the valley a mile below, to a mile above. 
 I called at this Christian home, and for an excuse asked for a 
 drink of water. The reader will remember that I did not finish 
 my last drink. The young people played and sang their best 
 hymns for the benefit of the lone organizer, and after a pleas- 
 ant hour, I resumed my lonely Sunday walk, and reached that 
 busy oil town of Edenburg in due time. I said nothing to my 
 new found friends on the nice farm at the top of the hill about 
 their neighbors a mile below, and I am in ignorance to this 
 day as to who, or what kind of a family occupied that old two- 
 story log house in the deep hollow, two miles on the road from 
 Linesville to Edenburg. 
 
 The second rather alarming place that I struck was between 
 Frostburg and Byrom Station, in Forest county, Pa. The 
 distance is a little over a mile, and, like the last woods de- 
 scribed, lined by dense underbrush on both sides of the road. 
 When I was nearly half way through this piece of woods I 
 
OIL REGION INHABITANTS 91 
 
 saw at quite a distance ahead of me a large man come from the 
 brush into the middle of the road and take a good look at me, 
 and then step back out of my sight into the brush. I put my 
 watch and chain into my inside coat pocket, so that no induce- 
 ment in that line would be held out, if the big fellow turned out 
 to be a robber. I put on as bold a front as could be expected 
 under the circumstances and trudged along. When opposite 
 to the place where I had seen him reconnoitering I turned my 
 eye around and beheld this giant, with a cowboy mustache, 
 standing in a path about two rods from the main road, looking 
 me square in the eye. As I did not want to form an intimate 
 acquaintance with a stranger adopting those tactics, I did not 
 even pass the time of day with him, and he proved to be as 
 "short on courtesy" as I, so I walked along, not showing any 
 sign of alarm, and, of course, I did not look around to show 
 that I was interested in him, and I never saw him again. He 
 may be there yet, as far as I know. I was perfectly safe all 
 the time, but I did not know it until I was safely out of that 
 luxuriant underbrush. The same God that has guided me in 
 those hundreds of strange places was with me then, but, with 
 my dim vision, I could not see this until distance proved it to 
 me. I have often wondered why this last man was there. I 
 have thought that he was evading the officers of the law and 
 was keeping an eye out, but the fact that he remained so near 
 the road, instead of going a little farther back, would disprove 
 this theory. Then again, if he was there for the purpose of 
 robbery, why did he not pitch into me ? 
 
 And now I come to the third fright. About 16 years ago I 
 was walking down the Lake Shore railroad track, between 
 Ashtabula and Ashtabula harbor. As night came on I over- 
 took four men walking leisurely. As soon as I came up to 
 them and spoke, I made up my mind that they were common 
 tramps. My pleasant "good evening" was answered in a very 
 surly manner. My fears got the better of me and I quickened 
 my gait. There was a deep cut in the road at that place, and 
 the only way to get out of that company was to outwalk 
 the big lubberly fellows and reach a street crossing, where 
 steps could be found leading up to the wagon road. The faster 
 I would walk the faster the tramps would walk. When I 
 reached the wagon road there happened to be two or three 
 teams crossing at that time, and I skipped up the bank and 
 
92 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM.. 
 
 mixed in with the crowd and I was safe from the tramps. 
 Two weeks after that time I read of a gang of tramps killing 
 a man for his money at that identical spot. I really think that 
 this quartette of tramps expected me to travel down the railroad 
 and that they would "go for me." I "showed the white 
 feather," but I would rather show "white feathers" while alive 
 than have an undertaker show black feathers at my funeral. 
 
 Anyhow, I think I have proved my original assertion that, 
 after having worked up and organized 475 lodges, over half 
 of them in the oil regions, with only three little "scares" and no 
 real attacks, the oil country is not a very dangerous place 
 in which to live. I have a very warm spot in my heart for 
 the oil country and its inhabitants. When I say this, I praise a 
 great many people, and they are getting more and more num- 
 erous every day. Just think of it! From a little spot here in 
 Western Pennsylvania, this business has spread to New York, 
 Ohio, West Virginia, Kentucky, Illinois, Texas, Oklahoma, 
 Indian Territory, California and Canada. Truly, oil is a won- 
 derful thing! 
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 PICKPOCKETS. 
 
 These chapters would not be complete without a mention 
 of my experiences in the pickpocket line. The first greenbacks 
 that I ever saw, when they were first issued, were stolen by a 
 light-fingered and low-lived rascal in Pittsburg, Pa. I, in 
 partnership with Nelson Mead and Hiram Belnap, floated a 
 raft to Pittsburg and sold it and received $425 to bind the 
 bargain. My partners trusted me to carry that package of new 
 and bright bills home, while they agreed to stay until the raft 
 of boards was delivered on the south side, when the balance 
 of the money would be paid to them. I was obliged to sit in 
 the Union depot until 1 130 a. m. before a train left for up 
 the river. I bought a ticket and took my seat in the waiting- 
 room, and. like the greenhorn that I was, fell asleep, and waked 
 up when the starting of the train was announced. I took my 
 seat in the coach and when I felt for my pocketbook it had 
 disappeared, together with the $425 of the handsomest paper 
 
PICKPOCKETS. 93 
 
 I had seen up to that date. I was unsophisticated enough to 
 think that possibly the book had fallen into honest hands and 
 I quit the train and returned to my hotel and took one of my 
 partners with me at the break of day to look about the depot. 
 This was a sign of imbecility on my part, but I was not as old 
 then as now. We looked around the depot a short time, but 
 did not find any pocketbook lying around loose filled with 
 brand-new greenbacks. I then went and called on "Bob" 
 Ford, the well-known Pittsburg detective. He told me that this 
 kind of business was of almost nightly occurrence at that depot 
 and that three nights before I called upon him a man had $1,300 
 stolen. Mr. Ford told me that he offered to pay every dollar 
 stolen from that depot in one year if the city would pay him 
 $1,000, but the city fathers refused and the traveling public 
 was suffering the consequences daily. 
 
 I felt a little bit green over this transaction and told the 
 partner that went to the depot in the morning to not let the other 
 partner know anything about it and I would stand the loss. I 
 didn't want to tell anyone — not even my wife — until I struck 
 oil. In about two years I struck a little oil and then told the 
 story on myself. 
 
 The second time that I was robbed was at Warren, Pa., at 
 the time of the Cherry Grove excitement when "The Mystery." 
 or "Six Forty-Six," was struck. The price of oil depreciated at 
 this time to such an extent that small operators suffered 
 greatly. If the Standard Oil Company had never done any- 
 thing but steady the price and stop such fluctuations, the Stan- 
 dard would have proved a godsend to the country. Well, as I 
 Vv'as saying, a great rush was caused by this strike. Warren 
 was full of all kinds of people, with a sprinkling of pickpockets 
 to boot. And as I stepped on the P. & E. train at Warren in 
 a great jam and took my seat in a coach I missed my pocket- 
 book. When I missed that I immediately felt for my watch 
 and was really surprised to find it in my vest pocket untouched. 
 However, pickpockets at that time generally let time pieces 
 alone for they were very much more easily identified than the 
 money. I had one satisfaction in this. I had only about $10 
 to lose at that time, although it did happen that I lost some 
 valuable papers. The third call by this class of visitors was in 
 my own town of Youngsville. I was returning from attend- 
 ing Buffalo Bill's Wild West show. There was a gang of 
 
94 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 those miserable blots on the face of the earth following Buf- 
 falo Bill's Wild West show on that trip and two of them took 
 the same train west on the P. & E. that I did. In getting off 
 the train I was considerably crowded by two young, good- 
 looking men, who pretended to be in a great hurry to get to 
 vacant seats. They were crowding from both sides of the 
 aisle. I though that I recognized them as pickpockets and as 
 I stepped out of the coach door I felt for my pocketboOk, but 
 as I expected, it was not there I stepped off the train and told 
 the conductor that he had pickpockets on board his train. He 
 asked me if I could point them out to him. I told him that 
 I could not, as they were lost in the crowd, and consequently 
 they escaped arrest. But this time the joke was on the thieves, 
 as they got only about $2 — hardly worth the risk. I suppose 
 the rascals must have let off some cuss-words when they opened 
 the book. But I was inconvenienced somewhat b}^ the loss of 
 papers which could do the thieves no good. 
 
 Three days after this I attended the grand lodge I. O. O. F., 
 of New York, at Jamestown, N. Y. In the afternoon a 
 little party concluded to take a ride on the lake, and as I 
 thought I might not have money enough to carry me through, 
 I asked a friend if he had $5 that he would not need until 
 he reached Youngsville. He answered, "I don't know, but 
 will look." I said : "Don't look at your money in this crowd. 
 There may be pickpockets here — go into the writing room." 
 He complied with my request and soon came back with the 
 remark, "Yes, I can let you have it." I stepped into the writ- 
 ing room of the Sherman House and wrote a check for five 
 dollars, came out and into the public room, handed my friend 
 the check and he handed me the money, in the presence of a 
 hundred men. I put the money in my book, and — reader — 
 give a guess as to the length of time that I had possession of 
 that money. Being well aware that you will make the time 
 too long, I'll tell you — just about three minutes. A street car 
 came to the door of the hotel, and a party rushed for seats, or 
 pretended to, and my pocketbook. They got the book, but 
 not the seats. Th^y preferred to stay in Jamestown, and pick 
 up other easy marks, like myself. I was quite certain before 
 I got into the car — ^by the actions of this crowd of New York 
 City excursionists — that they belonged to the fraternity that al- 
 ways had a liking for me, and I found my prognostications to 
 
OLD TIME LUMBERMEN. 95 
 
 be correct when I felt for my pocketbook and found that it had 
 very recently changed owners. When I made my predicament 
 known a friend loaned me a sufficiency of cash to enable me to 
 stick to my crowd of "Brother Odd Fellows" until my arrival 
 in Youngsville. And let me say, that although sixteen years 
 have come and gone, I have not lost a pocketbook since that 
 time, for the good reason that I have not had a book in m}- 
 pockets since. I don't know how many times those meanest 
 of things in the shape of men have had their hands in my 
 pockets since the Jamestown donation, but I do know that they 
 have gone without their regular meals if they depended on me 
 to pay their bills. It is a little more safe to keep your money 
 in the bank, and fill blank checks when you wish to use it than 
 to carry your money in your pockets. 
 
 This reminds me of a funny little incident. Away up in the 
 mountains of the "Mountain State," West Virginia, I gave a 
 check for 75 cents on the Youngsville Savings Bank, 400 miles 
 away, to a hotel man in payment of my hotel bill. I happened 
 that way again six months afterwards. He was still the owner 
 of the check. He said it was too small an amount to send to 
 liis bank. I remained under the hospitable roof on this second 
 visit until my check was large enough for him to "bother 
 with," but I am not taking any chances with pickpockets. I 
 cannot account for the fact that I am "a shining mark" for 
 this class of miscreants that I have mentioned, when my 
 neighbors all escape. I know I have reached the point of 
 intense hatred of the people who make their living that way. 
 They have nothing to lose and everything to gain. They 
 don't risk one cent. It is all income and no outgo. Nothing- 
 would please me more than to see the whole crowd — no, I 
 could not see them all at the same time, there are too many of 
 them — hanging by their necks. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVL 
 OLD TIME LUMBERMEN. 
 
 In writing this chapter there comes to my mind old rafting 
 times. Years ago, when I was a pilot of lumber rafts on the 
 Allegheny and Ohio rivers, when the spring flood came, us 
 young fellows, and many of the old fellows, would begin to 
 
96 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 look around for work at rafting. Even before the water came 
 deep enough for rafts, we would begin to build our "creek 
 pieces" on the ice at the mills. We had no steam mills then. 
 Water power made all the lumber then. The logs were hauled 
 to the streams, for the sawing into boards. And oh! what 
 boards. The logs were rolled onto carriages, and set to the 
 right thickness with crowbars — by guess. Sometimes a board 
 would be a quarter or half inch thicker at one end than at the 
 other end. The saw was hung in a sash, made for one single 
 saw, and played up and down with an uncertain speed, owing 
 to the height of the water in the dam above the mill. And 
 after a log had a slab taken off of both sides — sometimes a 
 board or two would be sawed, thus flattening a log, these 
 boards would be piled on the flat side of the log to be 
 edged. The sawyer would sit on these boards in front of the 
 saw, and as the saw would near him he would hitch away from 
 it, but must keep his weight upon the boards, to keep them 
 down, so that a single saw could do its double duty of sawing 
 the board under and edging the board on top, at one and the 
 same time. When I was a young, green mill hand I came the 
 nearest to passing into the life beyond that I ever did, through 
 this very method of edging boards. I was sitting in front of 
 the saw, hitching away at intervals. The skirt of my coat 
 dragging behind. I like the fool boy that I was, took the notion 
 that I would let the saw clip a little notch in my coat, so I let 
 the saw creep up to it. But instead of clipping a little notch, 
 the coat was jerked down into the log with such violence that 
 the skirt Avas nearly torn off, with a dozen holes in it. As the 
 saw came up out of the log for another stroke I jumped with 
 the agility of a cat, or any other smart animal. If not for that 
 quick motion I would have been mincemeat in a second. I 
 never again tried such an experiment. But to the subject. 
 
 When the snow melted and raised the creek to a rafting 
 stage then the fun began. The Brokenstraw creek would be 
 full of rafts passing through Youngsville from morning until 
 night. One might stand on the bridge spanning the Broken- 
 straw creek all day long and not be out of sight of a floating 
 raft, either up the creek, down the creek, or passing through 
 town. At that time sawmills were strung along the creek from 
 Irvineton to the headwaters in Chautauqua county, N. Y. 
 And as no railroads were even contemplated all the lumber was 
 
OLD TIME LUMBERMEN. 97 
 
 floated. Even the tributaries, Little Brokenstray, Garland, 
 Spring creek and Hare creek, put out their share of this lum- 
 ber. But the show came when these hundreds of "creek 
 pieces" were landing in the Brokenstraw eddy. They must be 
 coupled up preparatory to starting for Pittsburg. At times 
 the Brokenstraw eddy was not large enough and a share of the 
 coupling up into river rafts of about a dozen creek rafts, put 
 into one river raft, went to Dunn's eddy and to Thompson's 
 eddy. It required a considerable fishing and figuring for each 
 of perhaps 50 owners to get their different creek pieces out 
 of the general mixup and coupled into river rafts. Well, I 
 guess there was a hurrying time among the men that did this 
 work when the water was falling in the river. Men have been 
 known to work all night with only the light of pitch pine 
 knots. No electric, gas or acetylene lights were dreamed of 
 those days. And when the "Allegheny fleets" were all coupled 
 up a shanty was built of boards, a stove put in and some hard 
 "bunks" for the "hands" to sleep in. A supply of salt pork, 
 potatoes and bread was put abroad and the raft was ready to 
 '"pull out." The pilot would say "Left forward" and the fleet 
 would be propelled from the shore where it had been tied by 
 a long cable since the work of "coupling up" commenced by 
 the most willing set of workers that ever left friends and foes 
 behind for an outing down the river to Pittsburg, Wheeling. 
 Cincinnati, Louisville and many times to the falls of the 
 Ohio river and New Orleans. These robust raftsmen were the 
 most jovial, rollicking fellows to be met with anywhere. None- 
 but the stoutest men undertook that work. It required being 
 out of doors in all kinds of weather. The men had to be near 
 their oars every moment as when the pilot gave orders to right 
 or left each oar was expected to be dipped in the next few 
 seconds. Rain, snow and sometimes a mixture of both had to 
 be endured. Weakly, consumptive fellows were very seldom 
 seen on a raft. Only young men full of warm blood and 
 deviltry were right at home on a raft in the old times. These 
 latter named would pull into a river eddy in any kind of a 
 storm, take their hurried meal and after all kinds of jokes and 
 pranks would crawl into the bunks filled with straw, with their 
 clothes on and sometimes frozen stiff, lie down, spoon fashion, 
 go to sleep, and not wake up until the break of day when the 
 pilot would jump out and yell "Tie loose." In about a minute 
 
98 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 the raft would be gently floating towards the "Smoky City." 
 If those early pioneers had been obliged to adjust their cuffs, 
 collars, neckties and see that the seams in their pants had the 
 desired appearance it would have taken more than one minute 
 to get afloat each morning. And the air would be filled with 
 cusswords. The pilots, in general, were men who used steam- 
 boat language when they got in a hurry. And the wages for 
 hard work and fare, we, "the hands," got the magnificent sum 
 of $io a trip and pay our own way back. 
 
 If a man walked back home he could clear $i a day, if he 
 did not "tie up" for high water or walk too slow in coming 
 back. The average walker would clear about $i a day if he 
 was a total abstainer. If not, he v\^ould fall short, as those 
 who indulge in strong drink will testify to, even at the present 
 time. Since the world began strong drink has been a great 
 absorber of money, and the saddest of all sad things is that all 
 the money spent for strong drink vanished into the air. No 
 good ever came from it — all bad, bad, and no good. Since 
 Adam and Eve's time it has a poor record. If our legislators 
 would wait before passing laws to protect the sale of intoxicat- 
 ing liquors until they see the benefit derived from a drink of 
 whiskey, taken as a beverage, they never would pass another 
 law of that kind until doomsday. And now arises the ques- 
 tion, why cannot our lawmakers make good laws just as easy 
 as bad laws? No doubt but what the people, one hundred 
 years hence, will look back upon us and call us barbarians for 
 making laws for the protection of the greatest evil on the face 
 of God's green earth. I said the greatest evil; I'll make it 
 stronger — I"l say it outweights all other evils combined. ^It is 
 time that the north quits looking down upon the south. We 
 ought to begin to look up to them on the temperance question. 
 Why, God bless them! they are nearly half prohibition now, 
 and if Pennsylvania and New Jersey don't wake up soon the 
 south will be all prohibition before they begin the good work. 
 
 Now I'll get back to my subject again. When those foot- 
 sore travelers got back to their homes along the upper waters 
 of the Allegheny river a large majority would swear oflf going 
 down the river on a raft again. But when the next "rafting 
 fresh" came there would be more begging for trips down the 
 river than could be used. And now, about the price of lumber. 
 Good pine boards have been sold in Pittsburg for $4 per thous- 
 
OLD TIME LUMBERMEN 99 
 
 and feet and nearly a fourth of it "clear stuff." Compare this 
 price with the present price and you are almost staggered. 
 The same quality of lumber today would bring eight times as 
 much in the same market. 
 
 Among the old-time lumbermen in Warren county, was 
 "Joe" Hall, L. F. Watson, Boon Mead, Erastus Barnes, Orris 
 Hall, Guy Irvine, John McKinney, James McKinney, Eben 
 Mead, John Mead, J. C. and D. Mead, John Garner, Amasa 
 Ransom, James Durlin, John Durlin, Robert Andrews, Dr. 
 Wm. A. Irvine, Samuel Grandin, H. P. Kinnear, a Mr. Funk, 
 Joseph Green, James Eddy, Charles Whitney, J. B. Phillips, 
 Alonzo Patch, Joseph Mead, Hardin Hazeltine, William Sig- 
 gins, Daniel Horn, William Demming, Alden Marsh, James 
 Donaldson, Sterling Holcomb, John Brown, William White, 
 William Frese, Philip Mead, L. B. Wood, Chapin Hall and 
 many more that I could name. In fact, there were more lum- 
 bermen than farmers. Farming was not the picnic those days 
 that it is now. Where farms were cleared up the stumps were 
 comparatively green. The trees had been but recently cut, 
 and the stumps were green with tough roots, extending out in 
 all directions, a rod or two, making anything but pleasant work 
 in ploughing and making land ready for the crops. The main 
 crops were hay, oats, corn, wheat, potatoes, rye and buck- 
 wheat. What a difference between now and then. Now the 
 most of the stumps are rotted, or pulled out with a machine! 
 Many of the fences are made of pine stumps. 
 
 These fences were not beautiful to look at, but theye were 
 very durable. The pine roots were filled with pitch, and 
 never would rot. A few of the fences can be seen at the pres- 
 ent time scattered over the country. If these fences had not 
 gone out of fashion, they would be here yet, sound and in good 
 order. But a new-fangled way of farming sprang up and no 
 fences, or but a few, are needed. In the early days, cattle, 
 sheep and horses ran all over the country at random, where 
 now the farmers only make fences around their pasture fields 
 and keep all their stock shut in, so that few fences are found 
 in the country, and where boards and rails were used then, now 
 posts and wire are used. 
 
 When I finished writing the names of the old time lumber- 
 men the thought struck me that I would look over the list 
 and see how many of those old time lumbermen were alive to- 
 
loo OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 day. And, dear reader, how many do you think are ahve out 
 of the 40 named? To my utter surprise, I found not one 
 ahve. Now, do you believe that I am writing of "old timers?" 
 
 ;;^ ^ , CHAPTER XXVII. 
 
 ^"' NEW TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 This chapter begins with what might be named "New Times 
 in Oildom," at it is a mention of the latest in oil in Youngs - 
 ville. Recently a Pittsburg company commenced drilling a well 
 in the row of small wells below town, or on the very edge of 
 the borough. And a well a little farther west of that will be 
 put down in the town by local parties and another four miles 
 north of town will be put down by a foreign company. This 
 seems like a revival of the oil business here, two commenced 
 and two talked of. If it can be arranged to hitch the two 
 dozen wells that have been drilled in Youngsville and vicinity 
 together and run them with one power the production would 
 pay nicely. If oil ever gets scarce and rises in price Youngs- 
 ville will be an oil town. If all the wells put down in 
 Youngsville and vicinity, say a distance of three miles in 
 diameter, were hitched together it would make a nice thing for 
 the owner or owners. Of course it would not be a big income, 
 but it would help some. 
 
 I will mention a change in the oil business in our nearby 
 neighbor — Garand, seven miles west of Youngsville. Before 
 the pipe line days, the oil came from Enterprise, Pleasantvillc 
 and that section of the country by teams and wagons to Gar- 
 land, and there the P. & E. railroad was reached and the oil 
 was loaded on the cars for market. It came in barrels. Six 
 or eight barrels made a wagonload, according to the size of 
 the team. Eight barrels were a heavy tug for even the stoutest 
 of teams. The roads were anything but smooth when the oil 
 business struck the country. But when this array of teams 
 began their tramping of the mud, a mortar bed was soon form- 
 ed that was something awful to behold and much more awful 
 to navigate. When this mud became frozen, but still not quite 
 hard enough to hold a horses's weight and not quite soft 
 enough for easy wading, it was killing on the poor brutes, and 
 
NEM/ TIMES IN OILDOM. , loi 
 
 not easy on the drivers. I one day met "Bob" McMillen, 
 of Garland, driving a big "team of grays" with an eight barrel 
 load. 
 
 "Bob's" face looked as though it had been through a 
 threshing machine. In crossing one of those corduroy bridges, 
 he had been tossed from his slippery seat on an oil barrel, 
 alighting face downward on a rock. He was a sight, but he 
 kept his place in that long line of teams until he reached the 
 railroad and also helped unload his wagon. Garland was a 
 lively little town in those days. A heavy lumber business was 
 carried on. 
 
 The D., A. V. & P. was not buih then and the P. & E. had 
 all the railroad business. Garland is not as large as it was at 
 that time, but is a town more solid and permanent. The people 
 have to a large extent pursued farming and depend on agricul- 
 ture. Oil may come and oil may go, lumber may come and 
 lumber may go, but the good soil will always be with them. 
 Garland has soil that is rather above the average Warren coun- 
 ty soil and the inhabitants are of the thrifty kind, and they will 
 not starve. The writer was a citizen of that town when he 
 first began attending school and will make mention of the first 
 and only punishment that he ever received at any school. This 
 was the way of it: An old Scotchman was the teacher. His 
 rules were ironclad. One day when he "let the boys go out," 
 one boy — a sort of an Ananias — said the schoolmaster asked 
 him "to tell the other boys" to wade into the "West Run," a 
 nice little stream that invitingly passed close to the school 
 house — and wash their feet. All attended school barefooted 
 in those days, and, of course, our feet could bear considerable 
 washing, and then not be any too clean. Well, believeing this 
 to be a reasonable request, we all pitched in, doing some lively 
 kicking and splashing. When we were called in the teacher 
 took a look at our drabbled pants. He called us out on the 
 floor and lined us up in a row. Then he took his ferule — a 
 great wide ruler — and grabbed each boy in rotation by the 
 fingers, holding the palm of the hand upward. He then gave 
 each one five heavy strokes, applying his whole pedagogical 
 strength. That long, wide and heavy ferule had its effect on 
 that line of a dozen boys in different ways. Some would 
 quietly cry, some would cry with a loud voice, some would 
 smile, and others hop and yell. I took my medicine with quiet 
 
102 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 heroism. The old bachelor teacher then permitted us to take 
 our seats, and we put in the rest of the afternoon in consider- 
 able unhappiness, caused by wet pants and tingling fingers. 
 And thus ended my first and Only punishment, brought on by 
 my faith in our Ananias. 
 
 Before leaving the subject of this school house I wish to en- 
 lighten the present generation in regard to pioneer Sunday 
 Schools. My first Sunday School training was in this old 
 Garland school house. The services consisted principally of 
 committing Bible verses to memory and reciting them to the 
 teacher of the class. We had no leaflets, gotten out by the 
 best Bible schools of the age, as we have now. The exercises 
 were indeed crude. But we worked the best we could consider- 
 ing the tools we had to work with. The class that I belonged 
 to had a scholar, a boy by the name of David Moore. He had 
 a good memory, but I had conceit enough about me to think 
 that I could equal if not exceed him in that line. Well, I 
 bantered him for a test. We agreed each to do our very best 
 for one week and, for our own enlightment, find out which 
 could commit to memory the largest number of verses and 
 recite to our teacher at the end of the week. The result was : 
 Moore, 145 ; and Brown, 105. David died many years ago 
 after living an exemplary Christian life. 
 
 And now before I leave this old school house, let me tell a 
 little fish story : I fished for the beautiful and palatable speckled 
 trout in the streams about Garland in those long ago days that 
 I have been talking about. One day not satisfied with the 
 Garland fishing streams I hied me away a couple of miles 
 to "Blueye" and fished all day, and failed to get a nibble at 
 the hook. When on my way home I stopped on a bridge, 
 right in front of the old school house, and as I had quite often 
 discovered an immense trout, lying quietly in quite deep water, 
 under this bridge, I took a peep through the cracks of the 
 floor of the bridge, and there lay the big spekcled trout. I 
 immediately set myself about preparations for his capture. I 
 took my hook and line from my pocket, tied the line to a long 
 stick, dug up a fish worm from the ground nearby, baited the 
 hook with the worm, and slipped up noiselessly and dropped 
 the bait down through a convenient crack in the bridge, and 
 watched the result. The bait landed on the gravel, on the bottom 
 of the stream, about 10 inches in front of the trout's nose. I 
 
NEW TIMES IN OILDOM. 103 
 
 watched a moment but no motion of the fish. Just as I had 
 made up my mind that the big fish was not hungry I noticed 
 a very sHght motion of its tail, but soon the movement was al- 
 most as a lightning flash. He grabbed the bait on the run, and 
 started for his hiding place under the edge of the bank. How- 
 ever, his rapid movement was stopped by my long stick and 
 line. The result was I pulled a trout up through that bridge that 
 weighed a little over two pounds. This convinced me that 
 fishing at home was better than two miles away in Blueye 
 creek. This was the largest speckled trout that I ever saw ex- 
 cept one. My brother and I were fishing in a mill pond about 
 fifty rods from the bridge that is spoken of above, about one 
 month after this, and he pulled a speckled trout to just above 
 the surface of the water and not being able to bring it ashore 
 let it sink back into the water again. , Being older, and a little 
 stronger, I grabbed his pole, and swung the fish to land. 
 That one weighed over two pounds and a half. Garland had 
 big speckled trout about 65 years ago. 
 
 A recent flood in the Brokenstraw creek reminded me of the 
 old fellows of the rafting times which have passed away, when 
 we had no railroads to carry the lumber. Such a freshet in 
 the creek would have brought joy to the hearts of all the young 
 men of the vicinity, for rafts would be running daily. Think 
 of the changes ! When I piloted my first raft on the Broken- 
 straw creek there was not a railroad in the United States. 
 When the P. & E. road was built through Youngsville many 
 people had never heard a locomotive whistle. One man played 
 a great joke on himself. When he heard the whistle of the 
 old Ohio locomotive, "Zenia," the construction engine, he 
 seized his gun and started for town, about a mile distant, with 
 the intention of killing what he thought was a panther. 
 
 The locomotive "Zenia" spoken of above, was brought 
 from some Ohio railroad to haul the material for building the 
 western division of the Philadelphia and Erie railroad. "Dick" 
 Poor was the engineer and "Jim" Horigan was the conductor 
 of the construction train. Scott Patten and William, his 
 brother, were the contractors. Robert Beveridge, afterwards 
 cashier of an Oil City bank, who died recently, was the store 
 clerk. The people of this section were unanimous in thinking 
 all those named were great men. They were bringing a rail- 
 road into our isolated country. When the old locomotive 
 
I04 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 would leave Youngville for Corry after supplies, it would often 
 be filled with women and men, anxious to have a ride on 
 something propelled by steam. The crowd would be so dense 
 that it was with difficulty that the fireman could shovel his 
 coal. And "Dick" Poor, a big fat man, would share a seat 
 at the lever with any of his free passengers. He was the 
 very embodiment of good humor. In fact no one who wanted 
 a ride on the old locomotive was turned away as long as there 
 was room to sandwich in one more. Everybody in those days 
 carried high heads and their faces almost said the words, 
 "We are going to have a railroad." 
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 
 OLD TIME OIL TANKS. 
 
 This chapter will begin with a few remarks on tank build- 
 ing before it became a science. The first oil tanks that came 
 under my observation were on the "Jim" Tarr farm. And, oh ! 
 what tanks they were ! Perhaps a dozen or 1 5 were construct- 
 ed at the Phillips well. They occupied all the narrow strip 
 of flat land that lay between the well and Oil Creek. They 
 were made of pine plank. A hole was dug into the ground 
 about eight or ten feet deep, the diameter varying some- 
 where from 8 to 12 feet. The top of the tanks were just 
 even with the ground, being covered over with pine planks to 
 prevent pedestrians from walking into them at night. The 
 few old operators who saw this kind of storage will bear me 
 out in saying that there was a frightful amount of money in 
 wastage. Oil was selling at from $8 to $14 a barrel, while the 
 old Phillips well was gushing out hundreds of barrels a da>, 
 and the leakage from those home-made tanks ran into thous- 
 ands and thousands of dollars. And it would make a young 
 operator of the present day laugh, or cry, to see the owners 
 getting oil into and out of those tanks. A three cornered 
 trough was made of boards an inch thick, but any width that 
 came handy, and the oil that did not escape through the 
 cracks and holes in those crude little conveyors ran in great 
 streams from the wells to those things called tanks. And 
 when a pond "freshet" would come down the creek, away the 
 
OLD TIME OIL TANKS. 105. 
 
 greasy fluid would go to the Allegheny river in a "bulk boat," 
 which means an open boat, previously filled by pumping the 
 oil with a dandy looking pump from the tank to the boat 
 through the wooden pipe. It was not many moons, however, 
 before improvements began to appear in the tank line. The 
 late Frank Tarbell, of Rouseville, soon began to manufacture 
 a wooden tank that could be set up above ground. And soon 
 after iron pipes were used in the running of the oil in and out 
 of the tanks. Mr. Tarbell, aside from his tank business, ran 
 the only lumber yard at Rouseville. In addition to all this, he 
 put down a few oil wells and found no dry holes. I had the 
 pleasure of supplying the lumber for his yard and tank business, 
 and will say right here that in my long life I never dealt with 
 a more honest and upright man. Nearly everybody has heard 
 of Ida Tarbell. At the time I speak of, she was a bright and 
 lively school girl of 16. My wife and Ida were good friends. 
 The young girl made visits to our home lasting several 
 weeks. She was a fine piano player and a very pleasant 
 visitor. At that time she had never thought of becoming an 
 authoress of national repute. The Tarbell family became 
 residents, in after years, of Titusville, where Frank was a 
 leader in the Methodist Episcopal church and in the up-build- 
 ing of the city in general. He continued in the oil business 
 and other activities of life up to the time of his death not long 
 ago. 
 
 I wish to make a few remarks concerning a very important 
 part of the oil trade, showing that the present times are better 
 than "Old Times in Oildom." I'll speak of the matter of 
 leasing oil lands. There is not much said about land sharks 
 nowadays. But in those old times was there not "wailing and 
 gnashing of teeth?" Sharpers soon laid plans to catch the 
 imwary farmers, and they worked their games for all they 
 were worth. To prove this I will give one case which is but 
 one of many. I called upon a man of 80 years in McKean 
 county. I found him sitting on a chair on his porch, churning 
 butter in the old fashioned way, moving a "dasher" up and 
 down. He was the picture of despair. This is his story, 
 given to me as he propelled the churn dasher. "I own a 100 
 acre farm that is without doubt one of the best oil farms in 
 McKean county. But I am one of the most poverty stricken 
 men in this county. I leased my farm to an oil company be- 
 
io6 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 fore I had given the subject any thought. I went into writings 
 with this company bHndly. The conditions of the lease were 
 that company was to put down one well within one year. 
 They fulfilled their part of the agreement. The well went down, 
 but when near the oil they spoiled the well. They filled it about 
 half full of sand and worked and fussed with it for a few 
 days and pronounced it a failure. And that is the shape of 
 things at present. Good wells are being struck all around my 
 farm, but I am a poverty stricken man. The offer is so low 
 that it is an insult to me. They know my situation and think 
 that I will be obliged to accept their offer. Their offer is so 
 low that it would not help my family much when I drop off 
 and I never will accept it. I cannot force them to clean out 
 this well or put another down. They have fulfilled their con- 
 tract. And I am in an awful shape. I am 80 years old and 
 I have the consumption and I have 30 acres of hay to cut and 
 not one dollar to hire men to do the work. And I cannot do 
 a thing except the very lightest of work. I would be a rich 
 man today if not for these land sharks, but as it now stands I 
 am one of the poorest men in this country. There ought to 
 be a law to hang such men as these who took advantage of my 
 ignorance. I don't know what I will do." 
 
 Thus ended my visit with the old gentleman and I left him 
 looking the very exemplification of despair. A few months 
 after that I saw the announcement in a paper of his death. 
 Although really in the midst of wealth he died a poor man. 
 But what a change has taken place in the last 25 years! We 
 hear of few such complaints now. This leasing business has 
 become a settled, honest business. Nearly all farmers are 
 fully posted in this leasing business and at times they get the 
 best of the oil man. Both know their business, and there is 
 a kind of sameness in the contracts, which leaves both parties 
 satisfied. All pioneer operators well know that the rough and 
 tumble way of doing business at the beginning has now been 
 systematized. This is the age of progress. Any man of my 
 age can look back and see changes that could not be described 
 in a book as big as a barn. I have often thought that I would 
 like to look back upon this old world 100 years from now, 
 and see how people would be doing things. If such strides 
 in new inventions are made in the next 100 years as have 
 been made in the last 100 years, what will this world look 
 
OLD TIME OIL TANKS. 107 
 
 like? Perhaps the spirits of the dead can look back. The 
 way things have been going for the last few years a man can 
 not consistently doubt anything. A few years ago if I had 
 told people that two men could stand 3,000 miles apart and 
 carry on a conversation with each other over a wire, or that 
 men could converse with each other, standing hundreds of 
 miles apart, with no wire, I would have been pronounced a 
 fit subject for an insane asylum. Oh, how will it be 100 
 years hence? 
 
 I have just thought of a strange happening in my life, 
 which is worthy of mentioning. The two extremes of heat 
 and cold came to me at Conneaut Lake, Crawford county, Pa. 
 About 26 years ago I was in the temperance work, organizing 
 Good Templar lodges. I struck the lake about the middle of 
 the afternoon on a fearful cold day. The first call I made was 
 on the postmaster. I found in him a strong temperance man. 
 He put his name and the names of members of his family on 
 my list for application for membership, and invited me to take 
 supper with him, which I did. It was the regular meeting 
 night of the A. O. U. W. Being a member of that order I at- 
 tended their meeting, engaged the use of their hall and or- 
 ganized a lodge the same night. The postmaster and family 
 did not come to the meeting. After the organization was com- 
 pleted I went to the only hotel in town. I walked into the 
 office, travelling bag in hand. A lot of men sat around, and 
 no one made a noise. I inquired for the landlord. A big fat 
 fellow clapped his hand on his breast, and said : "Here he is^ 
 this big fat fellow." I asked for accomodations. lie said the 
 rooms were occupied. Said he, "Some of the beds have but 
 one man in them, but they don't hke to double up." I asked 
 him if there was any other place that a man could get shelter 
 at that time of night, 1 1 p. m. He directed me to "a boarding- 
 house" down on the edge of the lake, the last house at the end 
 of the sidewalk. I started out in the zero weather and pitch 
 dark — no street lamps at that time. I got to the end of the 
 walk, and found quite a large boarding house. I pounded 
 on the front door, but got no response, pounded again, with 
 renewed vigor. Same result. Then I tried my lumg power — 
 for all it was worth, but it was just as valuable as the pound- 
 ing. Finally I was obliged to give it us as a bad job. The 
 next day I learned that the owner of the boarding house 
 
io8 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 was a deaf woman, that could not hear me, and her helper 
 was a foolish son. Between the two it was an impossibility for 
 a belated stranger to gain admittance to that boarding house at 
 1 1 p. m. I then retraced my steps up town. I felt somewhat 
 lonely, as everybody in town was in bed and asleep, except the 
 lone stranger. 
 
 My next move was to rouse a doctor — one that I had 
 initiated that night into the I. O. G. T. lodge — from his slum- 
 bers. In response to my knock at his door, he appeared. I 
 then told him my situation ; that I had been turned away from 
 the licensed hotel because I had organized a society that night 
 which would work against his liquor trade, and that I could 
 not get into the boarding house. The doctor was a good na- 
 tured and well meaning individual, but he said he had visitors 
 and could not find room for me. He advised me to go to an- 
 other of my Good Templar members. The doctor gave me 
 verbal directions. Those directions were such that no one 
 but an expert tramp organizer could follow them successfully. 
 I failed as an expert. I was told to go down street a little 
 way, then cross a street, then up a street, with several turns, 
 and stop at the third house on the left. I undertook the job 
 of finding this brother, as I had nothing else before me to do. 
 It was not an easy task — looking for a strange house in a 
 strange town and as dark as a stack of black cats, and zero 
 weather at that. After I had turned as many corners as I 
 thought would fill the bill and counted, in my mind, as many 
 houses as the doctor had told me to — it really was so dark that 
 I could not see a house — I walked up to a house that felt like 
 the one that I was in search of, and rang the bell. I found it 
 by sense of feeling and not by seeing. A man came to the 
 door — I was at the wrong house, of course — and he scolded out 
 the directions so plainly that there was no misunderstanding 
 them. 
 
 The next hunt brought me to the hospitable home of my 
 newly made brother Good Templar. I laid my case before 
 him in as mild language as I could command. His answer was, 
 "We are in just as bad shape as the doctor. We have visitors 
 and could not make room for you." By this time I had 
 crowded myself into his house and shut the door to keep 
 out the zero air. I told my Dear Brother that as it was my 
 first night in Evansburg — the town was plain Evansburg then ; 
 
OLD TIME OIL TANKS. 109 
 
 it was before it became a noted summer resort — I would not 
 care to stay out of doors, considering the temperature. By this 
 time I had become almost saucy — perhaps desperate would be 
 the better word. I cast my shivering eyes around the room 
 and beheld a cold wood stove setting there with two sticks of 
 green wood lying near it and a lounge sitting near it also. I 
 said, "Is there any fire in that stove?" He said, "No." 
 Then I said, "Could you put some fire in it?" He answered 
 in the afifirmative. Then I said, "If you will heat the stove and 
 give me a comforter I will sleep on that lounge." The brother 
 disappeared to his bedroom and consulted his life partner, and 
 soon came with this answer : "My wife says she has no com 
 forter to spare." Then I said, "Put some fire in that stove 
 and I will use my overcoat for a covering." He obeyed my 
 command and I laid down with all my clothes on except my 
 overcoat, which took the place of what ought to have been 
 about three comforters. I soon fell into a sleep, with uncom- 
 fortable dreams. I waked up about four hours- before day- 
 light — the coldest man in Crawford county. Pa. That stove 
 was as cold as Alaska and I was nearly frozen. When I would 
 wink, I could not only see stars, but I could actually see half 
 moons. I examined that stove and found not a live coal in 
 it. I saw two or three sticks of green wood on the floor. I 
 concluded not to start a fire for several reasons. First, no 
 matches could be found; second, I could not make green 
 wood burn if I had had the matches, and I did not feel 
 like arousing my brother twice in one night. So I doubled 
 up and held my feet in my hands and kept up a little circulation 
 until my brother and entertainer came with some dry kindling- 
 wood and built a good fire in that cold stove. After daylight 
 appeared and after partaking of a good breakfast I said good- 
 bye to these Good Templars and I have never seen them 
 since. When I saw the doctor at his office before I left town, 
 he eagerly asked me if I got a bed. I told him that I did and 
 he seemed greatly pleased with the idea that I had found a 
 downy bed. He never knew that my bones were aching and 
 did ache for four days afterwards. 
 
 But now comes in the joke. I called at the postofifice the 
 next morning after my freezing and the postmaster said: 
 "Where did you stay last night ? My wife reserved .9, bed for 
 you and sat up until midnight, keeping up a warm fire for you. 
 
no OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 We could not get out to the meeting, but expected you to stay 
 with us." Just think of it! A woman sitting up until mid- 
 night, keeping a good warm fire and making a bed for me, 
 when I was tramping all over town hunting for both and 
 finding neither. 
 
 And now for the other extreme — the extreme heat. It will 
 take but a few words to give the heat side of it. About lo 
 years after my work at Evansburg in organizing the Good 
 Templars, I organized an insurance lodge. Another man con- 
 ducted the hotel. I stopped at the place nearly a week. My 
 room was on the west side of the house. The first night I 
 slept in that room was the warmest in my life. I slept on a 
 feather bed. It was in the middle of summer and one of the 
 hottest nights I ever saw, or felt. The window had been 
 open all day and the afternoon sun had poured through the 
 window onto the feather bed, and to say that I had a hot 
 night of it would be putting it mildly. There had been no 
 rain for about six weeks. Now, reader, I think I have con- 
 vinced you that I have met the two extremes of heat and cold 
 in my experience in the same town. I would hesitate about 
 visiting that place again, fearing that something awful might 
 happen to me. 
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 STARVING ANIMALS. 
 
 There was a lot of talk about Theordore Roosvelt's horse- 
 back ride of 90 miles in one day, at the time he was president. 
 I suppose that not one of his "subjects" in the United States 
 took as long a horseback ride that day as did the chief execu- 
 tive. It reminds me of my ride from Titusville to Garland, 
 75 years ago, a distance of less than 20 miles. I rode behind 
 my grandfather, astride of a big white horse. When I reached 
 Garland my legs were unable to do duty satisfactorily. When 
 my grandfather, George McCray, of Titusville, lifted me from 
 the horse and set me right end up on the ground, I staggered 
 and fell, my legs being much benumbed. I well remember this, 
 although I was but 6 years old. In fact, this is as far back 
 as my memory runs. But I give up to President Roose- 
 
STARVING ANIMALS. 1 1 1 
 
 velt. I think he can hold the championship for years and 
 years to come — at least so far as I am concerned. 
 
 The Rev. J. P. Burns, of the M. E. church, has been hold- 
 ing revival meetings here. He is a faithful Christian worker, 
 and has started many souls on the Christian pathway. His 
 oratorical powers are far above the average. As a proof of 
 the appreciation of his parishoners, he has preached here over 
 eight years. The year he was called to the ninth year, the 
 call was signed by about three hundred petitioners. I men- 
 tion these things in order to compare the present with the 
 past. The first revival that I witnessed was carried on at what 
 was called Whitestown, about midway between Pittsfield and 
 Garland. People were affected differently those days. Strong 
 men would jump, and dance around, and fall helpless to the 
 floor, and lie as still as death for hours at a time. The leader 
 of Methodism in Garland, John McCray, fell to the floor one 
 day, about noon, and lay quietly nearly all the afternoon. 
 He was a large, strong man, in both mind and body. To 
 young unsophisticated eyes, this seems a strange sight. Men 
 and women, old and young, were there on that barn floor. 
 They had no church then, and James White's barn did its full 
 duty in that line. Generally before falling there would be con- 
 siderable loud shouting. There is a little of the same style 
 of worship carried on by the Free Methodists at the present 
 time. Indeed, a Free Methodist church stands directly across 
 the street from the home of the writer of this, and sometimes 
 they are quite noisy, but the noise of a Christian is music 
 compared to the brawl of a drunkard, or profane man. There 
 is one glourious feature about the Free Methodist church, and 
 that is this : No man or woman can remain a member who 
 uses intoxicating liquor or tobacco, in any form. If all the 
 people on this old earth of ours, were Free Methodists, in 
 this respect what happiness would reign supreme. Speaking 
 of this invisible thing, which the church people call "The 
 Power," I will say it is impossible for me to give any satisfac- 
 tory explanation or reason for it. My good wife and I 
 drove to Stilson's Hill, many years ago, to attend a United 
 Brethren in Christ camp meeting, in the woods. The preacher 
 was eloquent and interesting, but he did not get to the end of 
 his sermon. When he had reached, perhaps, the middle of his 
 sermon, he cast his eyes upward toward heaven and ex- 
 
1 12 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 claimed : "He is coming ! He is coming !" and fell over back- 
 wards on the floor of the platform. Another preacher took 
 his place and finished his sermon without a break. The preacher 
 remained there until the meeting closed for the evening, and 
 he had not moved a particle when wife and I left the camp 
 ground. Others, men and women were lying around in the 
 same comatose state. I have witnessed such exhibitions of "an 
 unseen power" many times in my life, but I am no nearer 
 solving the problem now that I was in the long ago. 
 
 There is quite a contrast between the winter this year and 
 one I recall about 6i years ago. The snow fell about four 
 feet deep and lay on the ground three months without thawing. 
 Not an icicle was seen on the buildings for three months. Hay 
 was "worth its weight in gold." On the fifth day of April 
 my father and I drove a team the length of Brokenstraw 
 creek hunting for hay or some kind of feed for our cattle, and 
 found two dozen sheaves of oats. The snow was three feet 
 deep the fifth day of the second month of spring. It thawed 
 just a trifle, enough to melt the snow in the road and to make 
 a little trickling stream of water. It was a hard winter for 
 the poor cattle, horses and sheep. There was too much snow 
 in the woods. It was so deep that the deer could not wade 
 through it and browse on the shrubbery, their usual winter diet, 
 and the cattle could not do any better than the wild animals. 
 Both the deer and the tame animals died by the hundreds. 
 My father lost a very valuable ox. It was starved to death, 
 and a half dozen cows did not make good shadows in the 
 spring. Such a thing could not take place now, as railroads 
 are great distributors. If any article becomes scare in one place 
 and plenty in another place, the railroads will even up things. 
 Just stop and think a moment. If we had been blessed with 
 railroads at that time not one of those poor cattle, horses, 
 sheep, etc., would have died. A farmer was simply obliged to 
 stand and see his poor suffering animals die, with no earthly 
 chance to feed them. 
 
 Many people are fighting railroads today who have never 
 lived without them. They do not realize the fact that all the 
 new inventions of the last 70 years are real godsends to the 
 very people who are fighting them. If those fighters had seen 
 81 years of progress, as has the writer of these lines, they 
 would not be ready for fight every time some little mishap 
 
STARVING ANIMALS. 113 
 
 occurs. And in addition to the great and wonderful benefits of 
 the railroads are the benefits of the telegraph, telephone and 
 trolley lines. Now a business man can sit at his desk in his 
 office and do business all over town. He can do more in 10 
 minutes at that 'phone that he could do a few years ago by 
 footing it over town all day. He can do business with another 
 man 10 or 15 miles out in the country in a minute, when before 
 Edison's invention carriage hire and a whole day's time would 
 have been required; or, if the business necesitates a personal 
 interview, this business man can step into a trolley car, and 
 within a few minutes he is face to face with his customer. In 
 addition to this, if he wshes to talk face to face or tongue to 
 tongue, he can interview a man a thousand miles away. On 
 the other hand, if a farmer wants to do business with a 
 townsman, he can step to his 'phone and in a minute the busi- 
 ness is transacted. A few years ago this same farmer would 
 be obliged, on all occasoins requiring his presence in town, to 
 go to the barn, harness up old "Jii^i" o^ "Tom," hitch him to 
 the buggy, if the farmer had one. If not he would have to go 
 to a neighbor and borrow one, and drive over, at times, very 
 rough roads to town and back, losing a half or a whole day. 
 
 And then another great thing for the farmer, outside of the 
 inventions, is the custom which has grown up like a mushroom 
 recently of the merchant delivering goods at the door of any 
 customer regardless of the distance from the merchant's place 
 of business. All the farmer has to do is to give a ring at his 
 'phone and say "Hello," and the goods are there when the 
 horn blows calling the field men to the table. Is it any won- 
 der that the farmers are paying off their mortgages on their 
 farms? They are saving millions of dollars in time saved by 
 these late inventions of big-brained men like Edison. In fact, 
 the farmer is the favored person now. "Uncle Sam" is really 
 partial to him. The United States mail carrier leaves his 
 mail matter in boxes at his door, while the inhabitants of a 
 town not large enough for free delivery must travel a mile or 
 two and stand at the postoffice window until the "mail is 
 changed" and handed out to him. The farmers will soon be, 
 and some of them are now, riding in automobiles and looking 
 down on common folks. And the millions of dollars that they 
 are saving in time alone will be expended in beautifying this 
 favored country, for as a class they are the most economical 
 
114 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 of all workers. Edison never dreamed of the unspeakable 
 benefits and the many blessings he has brought to mankind. 
 
 I have wandered from my subject of the deep snow. But I 
 have never experienced such a winter again. Several very 
 "soft" winters have come and gone since that time. The young 
 people of this country will remember that lo or 12 years ago, 
 we were not favored with one day of good sleighing all 
 winter. Farmers plowed nearly every day and could have 
 plowed every day if they had wished to do so. Another winter, 
 45 or 50 years ago, was its equal. My father had prepared for 
 an all-winter log hauling with two yoke of oxen. He had but 
 one outfit, so he bought another yoke of oxen, bobsleds and 
 chains, and all was ready for the hauling of those logs one 
 and a half miles to Youngsville, to the nearest mill, to have 
 them cut into boards, but not a day of sledding came, and con- 
 sequently not a log was hauled. By the time of the next 
 sleighing, one year afterwards, the logs were so badly de 
 cayed and hurt by the worms that we had "cull" boards when 
 they were sawed. 
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 OLD TIME QUADRILLE BAND. 
 
 In another chapter I spoke of dancing, but gave but little 
 dancing news. It will be interesting to the people of today to 
 hear a little about the dancing of the olden days. Time was 
 when there was more dancers in this part of the country than 
 musicians. The violinists who could play and call quadrilles at 
 one and the same time were few and far between. Warren 
 did not have a fiddler in the borough when your humble servant 
 belonged to a quadrille band composed of players from Youngs- 
 ville and Pittsfield, who had a corner on the dancing music in 
 all Warren county. W® played for private parties at Orris 
 Hall's, Thomas Struthers' and other "upper ten" families of 
 the county seat. One night we took but a part of our band — 
 William Stright and son, Orra, and myself. When we ar- 
 rived at the stone mansion of the Hon. Thomas Struthers we 
 found more guests than could dance in the parlors downstairs. 
 We were obliged to split our band and Stright and son took 
 
OLD TIME Q UADRILLE BAND. 1 1 5 
 
 the upstairs crowd and I the downstairs crowd. The Struthers 
 house contained an organ upstairs and a piano downstairs. I 
 lacked a piano player to make my music acceptable and I was 
 more than pleased when the cultured, handsome and amiable 
 daughter of Mr. Struthers offered her services and sat down 
 and played a beautiful accompaniment from 10 p. m. until 4 
 a. m. without missing a set, although her young lady cousin 
 offered to give her a rest by taking her place at the piano. She 
 refused, saying that she was not in the least fatigued. A few 
 years after I read of her death with much regret. The remem- 
 brance of her helping me out with my side of the music that 
 night still lingers. Without her piano my lone violin would 
 have given out doleful strains for that large crowd of Warren 
 people. 
 
 Being the only quadrille band in the county and our music 
 being in demand, gave us somewhat of a high opinion of our- 
 selves, so we arranged a series of balls in this section of the 
 country. 
 
 We commenced the round at Tidioute. The young people 
 of Grandintown did not tumble over one another to reach our 
 ball. Our aggregation of three musicians only made enough, 
 at so much per couple, to pay our lodging, board and horse 
 feed. We owned our own rig or we should have failed to 
 reach our appointment at the next town, Titusville, where 
 neither Drake nor oil was known at that time. When we ar- 
 rived at Titusville we found a rather poor prospect of a turn- 
 out. Jack McCray, then a mill man, came to the rescue, and 
 saved us from an utter failure by getting out among the young 
 dancers, with whom he seemed to be immensely popular, and 
 in his impetuous way, got out enough of his young friends to 
 save us from utter defeat. The next morning we found that 
 we lacked one dollar of enough money to pay our hotel bill. 
 As there was but one hotel in town, the landlord had a mon- 
 opoly of the business, and his bill being a trifle larger than the 
 Tidioute bill, left us one big dollar short. But we soon found 
 that his confidence in us fiddlers was as big as his bill. He 
 cheerfully took our word for it, that we would send him the 
 dollar after we reached the moneyed town of Youngsville. 
 And we kept our word. On our arrival home we enclosed a 
 yellow gold dollar, and our band thereby kept itself in good 
 financial standing. Our band held a council of war, and in 
 
ii6 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 about a minute came to the conclusion that disappointment 
 would come to but a few if we would call off the appointments 
 ahead of us, and take the shortest route to our homes in the 
 Brokenstraw valley. When, after a pleasant sleighride through 
 Enterprise, and where Grand Valley now stands — no town 
 there at that time — the same with Torpedo, Garland, we called 
 at Pittsfield, where on short notice the sprightly young people 
 of that place got up a dance that exceeded both the others. 
 Thus ended our self appointed dances — only three miles from 
 home. We took this view of the whole thing, that what we lost 
 in time, we made up in knowledge. We learned the fact that the 
 young people knew when they wanted to dance better than we 
 did. 
 
 After that we waited until we were sent for before going to 
 play for a dance. And we were sometimes sent for as often 
 as every night in the week. Once in awhile two dances would 
 come off the same night. Then we would be obliged to divide 
 our band. Several times I was obliged to "go it alone" both 
 calling and sawing on the violin. I think I did more poor 
 playing those days than any other man. I never was a match 
 for Ole Bull, but as there were no Y. M. C. A.'s, basket ball, 
 gymnasiums or women's clubs, the young people had to do 
 something, and that something was shaking the "heavy" fan- 
 tastic heel. Some call it the "light fantastic toe," but I like to 
 have things changed. 
 
 But nothing lasts forever. As time passed along musicians 
 became more plenty, some migrating to our country and some 
 educating themselves. I finally bought a book called "The 
 Violin Without a Master." It was a good and appropriate 
 name for me. I never became master of the violin, consequent- 
 ly it was a violin without a master at our house. The first 
 outsider that came to Youngsville to compete with our band and 
 capture the affections of the best looking young ladies, was 
 a very prepossessing young man named "Bob" Cross. He cap- 
 tured the whole crowd of dancing young people, both male and 
 female. He had only to throw out a hint that he wished a 
 benefit and the ball room would be crowded in a few hours. 
 "Bob" ran the town, as far as the young people were con- 
 cerned, and many old people thought he was "all wool and a 
 yard wide." All doors were open to "Bob" Cross. He had 
 only to crook his finger and what he wanted was forthcoming. 
 
OLD TIME QUADRILLE BAND. 117 
 
 He was an extremely sweet player on the violin, but he "played 
 by ear." He never learned to read music. But he was a sort 
 of Blind Tom in picking up a tune as soon as he heard it. 
 Politics came in handy then and we made him a member of our 
 quadrille band, fearing that he would run us out entirely. He 
 played several years in our band, then married into a wealthy 
 family, finally dying a few years afterwards. 
 
 Others who have helped me out with my music and have 
 since passed away were Josiah Duprey, who was an honest, 
 easy going young man, and who died about four years ago, 
 Enoch Duprey, brother to Josiah ; William Stright, a composer 
 of music, who led a quadrille band many years, and who m 
 his riper years worked in a sawmill at Vowinkle, Forest county. 
 Pa., for a period of ten years and loved his violin so well that 
 he played nearly every evening for the free entertainment of 
 the hardy lumbermen at his boarding house, and who died 
 about five years ago — sending out sweet strains from his violin 
 until 10 p. m., then went to sleep. In the morning he was 
 found dead in bed. He had played his last tune. To my notion, 
 Mr. Stright's only daughter, Nellie, is the best pianist in the 
 city of Bradford, where she now resides. I know this is high 
 praise, as Bradford is full of fine pianists. His only son, Orra. 
 is one of the best violinists of the country. Chester Shaw, the 
 bass violin player of our band, met a tragic death at Clarendon, 
 Pa., by falling into a tank of oil and perishing by asphyxiation. 
 Another, William Jewel, a justice of the peace for many years 
 and a merchant of North Warren, died eight or ten years ago. 
 Of the many who have helped me make music for the dancers 
 of long ago, none but Calender Arthur, of Warren, Pa., and 
 Perry Acocks, of Pittsfield, Pa., are alive today. 
 
 Before leaving the subject I must speak of one novelty: At 
 one time our band consisted of William Stright, justice of the 
 peace; Calender Arthur, constable of Brokenstraw township. 
 Pa. ; Chester Shaw, constable of Pittsfield township. Pa., and: 
 G. W. Brown, coroner, Youngsville borough, Warren county,, 
 Pa. This gave us a full band of peace ofiicers — enough to keep> 
 peace at all times. In those days the balls were made up from' 
 mixed crowds. It was seldom that an invitation party was. 
 held. It required the whole population to make a "big crowd."' 
 The oil country crowds had not "arrived" at the time I am 
 speaking of. And strange to say at all those private parties 
 
ii8 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 and public balls I never saw a fistic encounter in the rooms 
 where the ladies and gentlemen were when I was one of the 
 musicians. It is true in writing "Old Times in Oildom" I 
 mentioned a knock down on a dancing floor at Petroleum 
 Center, but I was not one of the regular musicians. I only 
 assisted the regular musicians temporarily or until I was for- 
 ever frightened away and stopped helping to make music for 
 "wicked dancers." 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 CHURCHES IN THE OLD TIMES. 
 
 I will next mention the growth of the churches in the Brok- 
 enstraw valley. The first church that I in my babyhood at- 
 tended, was no church at all. It was a school house — my 
 first school house. We sat on pine slabs, with holes bored in 
 them, and with wooden legs driven into the holes. These made 
 seats, but very uncomfortable ones. There were no backs to 
 them. The occupants were obliged to sit up straight, with no 
 back support, or else they were forced to lean forward. The 
 singing was carried on without the assistance of musical in- 
 struments. No church in Warren county had an organ to lead 
 the untrained singers. Robert and Moses Andrews, two 
 brothers, were the "standbys" in that school house in the 
 singing line. Robert sang soprano, and "Mose" sang bass. To 
 my young ears that bass voice of "Mose" Andrews was melody, 
 indeed. It gave me a kind of liking for the bass part in music, 
 either instrumental or vocal, which is still within me at the 
 age of four score. It is very doubtful about my living long 
 enough to lose my liking for this part of a quartette. Alto 
 comes next in the four parts of a quarette, but I had not heard 
 the sweet and captivating strains of the part named alto at 
 that time. Soprano and bass was the whole dependence in all 
 churches in Warren county. This congregational singing, at 
 the old log school house at Garland, was participated in by 
 John McCray, the real standby of the church — ^the Mandavilles, 
 the Hamiltons, Browns — the father and mother of the writer — 
 the Uptons and many others, had fine, natural untrained 
 voices, and better melody than one would suppose — consider- 
 
CHURCHES IN THE OIL TIMES. 119 
 
 ing the absence of tenor and alto — floated out of the windows 
 and doors of that old school house. The preachers at this 
 "church" were just such as could be picked up occasionali}^ 
 The Bible expounders of those days were not men of very 
 much "book larnin','' but in the matter of real Christianity 
 they were full equals of the college bred doctors of divinity 
 at the present time. 
 
 Well, in the course of time, our family flitted down the creek 
 as far as Youngville. There we attended a frame church, with 
 a regular preacher. This church was a good type of the church 
 of that day. It had no steeple or belfry. It was a square sort 
 of structure, with a gallery all around, except the end where 
 the tall candlestick pulpit stood. The preacher was obliged to 
 climb a pair of stairs to get into it and when he reached it he 
 had barely room to stand in it. This pulpit had every indica- 
 tion of a scarcity of lumber and space for its diminutive pro- 
 portions. The choir here had tenor and alto, in addition to 
 the other parts necessary for the making of a good church 
 choir. This was the only church in Youngsville and was a 
 Methodist church, with good and faithful members. The 
 standbys were the Meads, Davises, Whitneys, Siggins. Mc- 
 Kinneys, Hulls, Arthurs, Kinnears and others. The main singers 
 in the choir were the Arthurs and Davises. The choir sat up 
 in the gallery opposite the pulpit. After a few years an in- 
 novation came in the shape of a big bass viol played by a 
 stump puller named Evans. It was a short lived innovation. 
 After the first hymn was sung, with bass viol accompaniments,, 
 an old member of the church whose word was law walked 
 down the aisle, climbed the stairs and came in front of the 
 choir and pointing his finger at the huge instrument exclaimed 
 in a voice not easily misunderstood : "Take that ungodly fiddle 
 out of this choir and keep it out." The command was obeyed, 
 with alacrity, and that was the first and last bass viol music 
 for that Youngsville choir. When the preacher read the next 
 hymn profound silence followed, not a chirp was heard from 
 any member of the choir. Finally a weak quavering voice 
 struck up a hymn and we had congregational singing in that 
 church for a long time. Then as time passed by a choir was 
 organized and strange to relate, an organ crept into this last 
 organization with but little opposition. A gradual change 
 came in music matters. The old member who vetoed the bass 
 
I20 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 viol was just as honest in his opinion that instrumental music 
 was an evil, as the old members of today are that instrumental 
 music is a blessing. If the old gentleman was alive today, and 
 could step into General Charles Miller's Sunday School in the 
 First Baptist church of Franklin, Pa., and hear the orchestra 
 of a dozen pieces manipulated by professional musicians, and 
 hear the soul stirring religious hymns that delight the hearts of 
 a thousand worshippers, both young and old, every Sunday 
 afternoon, the year around, he would no doubt enjoy the sweet 
 and soft Heavenly strains as much as any other listener. No 
 man in Youngsville was a more devout worshipper than he, 
 and no man who knew this old man here on earth has the least 
 doubt of his listening for these many years to the Heavenly 
 orchestra that makes sacred music in the golden streets of the 
 New Jerusalem. 
 
 Well, time moves on, and the church of Youngsville has been 
 sold to the Lutheran Swedish congregation, who have torn it 
 down and replaced it by a beautiful brick structure of late 
 design, and the M. E. congregation has a brick building to wor- 
 ship in. In addition to the two churches mentioned above. 
 Youngsville has a Free Methodist church and an Episcopal 
 church, the two latter named built of wood, and before man}- 
 moons the United Brethren in Christ will have a brick church 
 building here. 
 
 And now a few remarks as to many churches in many 
 places in this country. I'll begin with the Cumberland, Taren- 
 tum, Pa. I organized an insurance lodge there about i8 years 
 since. It is the sociability and lack of sociability of churches 
 that I will speak of. I had for my chaplain the pastor of the 
 church named above. I attended the regular Sunday services 
 at his church that first Sunday I spent in town. No man or 
 woman spoke to me. Not one word to "the stranger in their 
 midst." The next day I met the pastor and in a kind of non- 
 complaining way told him that sociability was at a low ebb in 
 his church. His answer was: "I am well aware of it and 
 have been ever since I came here. Next Sunday I will preach 
 a sermon on sociability." I was on hand the next Sunday and 
 the good man preached a very eloquent sermon. After the 
 benediction was pronounced I remained standing at the end of 
 my pew until nearly the entire congregation had passed out, 
 by me. waiting for a friendly handshake. I waited in vain. 
 
CHURCHES IN OLD TIMES. izi 
 
 One old, bald-headed, fat, good natured looking fellow came 
 up the aisle. My hopes went up. Surely such a pleasant 
 face and open countenance would not follow the example of 
 those who had preceded him. But, like the Priest and the 
 Levite who "passed by on the other side," his eyes were steadily 
 fixed on the church door and soon he was wending his way to 
 his Sunday dinner without a word for me. I gave all a fair 
 chance to cheer the heart of a lonely stranger, but none seemed 
 to act as if the forcible sermon of their pastor had "struck in." 
 And the only hope I had was that the sermon might, like 
 vaccination, work by degrees by giving it time. 
 
 The next place I attended church was in a high toned edifice 
 in Pittsburg. Tarentum was reversed here. A very pleasant 
 usher conducted me to a centrally located seat and soon the 
 master of that pew came with his family, wife, daughter and 
 son. After the benediction they introduced themselves in such 
 an agreeable manner that I could not help drawing a com- 
 parison. The next church visited was the First M. E. church 
 of Parkersburg, W. Va. I happened to sojourn in the West 
 Virginia city three months. During that length of time I at- 
 tended the First M. E. church lo times. Here I found the 
 members all "Priests and Levites." They all "passed by on 
 the other side," except the pastor and his wife and one alder- 
 man and his wife. These four had joined my insurance lodge 
 and had a fraternal hand to offer me. As to the effect of the 
 lack of sociability, I will state the case of a railroad official's 
 wife. She informed me that she had lived in Parkersburg two 
 years, had attended that church regularly and had seldom been 
 spoken to. She held a transfer letter from another M. E. 
 church but she had concluded never to offer her letter. But 
 now I come to the contrast. I was stopping at the Palace 
 hotel and one Sunday evening got into conversation with a 
 Presbyterian salesman from Cincinnati. He invited me to go 
 with him to the Presbyterian church. He said he was a 
 stranger in the city and would like to have company. I told 
 him that I was a Methodist, but the M. E. church that I had 
 been attending there was but a little above zero and I would try 
 the Presbyterians that night; but as the Presbyterians had a 
 great new stone church, resembling a fine theater, I had my 
 doubts about finding a warmer atmosphere there than at the 
 M. E. But there is nothing like making the effort to find out 
 
122 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 things. So I accompanied my new made friend and we were 
 soon seated in a pew behind two ladies, who were dressed in 
 their "silks and satins." We were not more than seated by a 
 warm hearted and smiling southern usher than both ladies 
 handed their hymn books to us and gallantly deprived them- 
 selves of those useful articles. When the services closed these 
 Christian ladies took us by the hand, inquired about our place 
 of residence and invited us to come again. It had been so 
 long since I had been treated that way I hardly knew how to 
 act. 
 
 The next Sunday evening I attended the M. E. church South 
 and there I found a duplicate of the Presbyterian reception, 
 only more so. A fine gentleman, son and two daughters, com- 
 posed the quartette, and that church had fine singing. The 
 leader, or father of the helpers, invited me to dinner the next 
 day and I had good cheer all around, but a surprise awaited 
 me when, in addition to the vocal music, they brought forth 
 four instruments and rendered some very fine band music. Now 
 don't think me egotistical, for I am writing this to show the 
 great difference between social churches and non-social 
 churches. No one but a wanderer can fully appreciate these 
 things. 
 
 Now let me say a word about the ministers of the gospel. 
 In all my organizing work in getting up and organizing 475 
 lodges, I never met a better class of men than the preachers of 
 all denominations. They are the most provident men found 
 in the country. Not more than one in 30 omits to carry in- 
 surance for the families. They look at it in this light : They are 
 not expected to make and lay up a fortune to protect their 
 families when they are gone. They cannot do it and follow the 
 work of their Lord and Master, but they can pay a dollar or 
 two a month from their salaries and keep their families safe at 
 all times and they do it. No class of men in the country are so 
 generally insured. A preacher without insurance is indeed a 
 novelty. I have taken into insurance lodges over 3CX) preachers 
 of different denominations. Indeed, I have never found a 
 disciple preacher in all my work in five states who did not be- 
 come a member of one of my lodges, securing his family 
 against want at the time of his death. I have five ministers of 
 the gospel in one lodge in Clarion, Pa., four M. E. clergymen 
 and one Baptist. About a dozen of my clerical members died. 
 
GOD BLESS THE SWEDES. 123. 
 
 leaving from $1,000 to $2,600 for the protection of their 
 famihes. One Presbyterian minister, Rev. Isaac Smith, of 
 Tonawanda, N. Y., died four months after joining, leaving his 
 wife $2,600. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXH. 
 
 GOD BLESS THE SWEDES. 
 
 I am going back a little beyond "oildom" to begin this 
 particular article. My mind wanders back 50 years to a time 
 when we had springtime all winter. In those days the main 
 business was either making shingles or boards, and the haul- 
 ing of this lumber made lively times. From the break of day 
 until long after dark a steady stream of teams lined the 
 streets. Nearly every farm from Youngsville to Sugar Grove 
 and beyond into York State had pine trees growing on the 
 uncleared portions. And the uncleared was generally the 
 largest part of the farm. All that a majority of the farmers 
 had in those days was a log house in the woods, with a very 
 few acres cleared. Each settler had a log shingle shanty close 
 by his domicile, where, from 4 o'clock in the morning until 10 
 at night, the faithful builder-up of this wild country would 
 be found either "riving" or shaving shingles. If he had a 
 voice for singing he would use it for all it was worth. Trouble 
 seldom came to him because of the fact that there was but little 
 in the country to be troubled about — no railroad right of way 
 across his farm to worry about ; no trolley lines being surveyed 
 through his orchard, garden or dooryard; no telegraph poles 
 being set near "the old oaken bucket that hung in the well ;" no 
 telephone agent putting a machine in his house despite his 
 remonstrances ; no bicycles bumping up against him ; no auto- 
 mobiles chasing him into the fence corner and causing his 
 horse to run away ; no millionaires being killed by their steam 
 or gasoline wagons ; no railroad accidents, for the good reason 
 that there was no railroad; but few burglaries, because there 
 was but little money or jewelry to steal ; no flying machines, 
 liable to light on the roof of log houses at any moment; no 
 earthquakes worth speaking of ; no oil or gas fires ; and but few 
 murders, for the reason that there were but few Harry Thaws 
 
124 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 and Hains brothers in the country. In fact, the hard working" 
 shingle maker had but Httle to worry about — ^barring sickness 
 and death, which came to him, as to all mankind, in all ages 
 of the world. Of course there were good and bad shingle 
 makers. The good ones had nothing on their minds but the 
 happiness of their families, and the bad ones had not as many 
 chances to wander from the straight and narrow path as can 
 be found nowadays. There was but little bank -stealing, 
 through dishonest officers, because there were few banks to 
 "break." However, the bad shingle maker had one sin to 
 answer for, and the sin was almost hereditary. In riving his 
 shingles he would split the shingles so close to the knots in the 
 timber that it was impossible to shave them so that they would 
 be of any value whatever. It required five times as much labor 
 to make this crooked shingle fit into the "bunch" nicely to 
 deceive the buyer as it required to shave a good straight 
 shingle. And the timber in many cases was stolen, costing 
 the maker nothing. It was one of the puzzles "past finding out" 
 why this extra labor should be put on these frauds, which only 
 amounted to some tall swearing by profane carpenters down 
 the Allegheny, Ohio and Mississippi rivers. It would try the 
 heart of the best Christian purchaser of several thousand 
 shingles to find his good money paid to the raftsman that had 
 landed his raft by his river farm about one-fourth dead loss. 
 When the purchaser opened the bunches of shingles his usual 
 way of disposing of this fraudulent part would be to make a 
 bonfire of them. The worst of this business was the fact that 
 the purchaser always found himself short of the required 
 amount of shingles and would be compelled to send off some- 
 where to buy again before he could put the roof on his build- 
 ing. I never heard of one of the defrauded purchasers putting 
 the law in force against those rascals. The rafts immediately 
 "pulled out" and floated down the river, perhaps cheating sev- 
 eral more innocent buyers before the first purchaser had opened 
 a bunch of shingles. The purchaser always pocketed his loss 
 with as much grace as possible rather than undertake to find 
 the man who defrauded him. Pinkerton was not around in 
 those days. Now all the purchaser would have to do would 
 be to give warning and he would be a cute shingle seller that 
 could escape the penalty of such a transaction. At the present 
 time no such crimes as the ones just described could take place, 
 
GOD BLESS THE SWEDES. 12s 
 
 as no shingles are shaved by hand and the tall pines are few 
 and far between. Shingles are now made by machinery, as 
 nearly everything else in the way of manufactured goods. The 
 old shingle shanties have all gone the way of the old log 
 houses and indeed the occupants of both are nearly all gone. 
 As a proof of this I will say that I, very recently, counted the 
 deaths that have taken place on four miles of the street lead- 
 ing from Youngsville to Sugar Grove within 50 years. The 
 number surprised me. Although not a village intervenes, only 
 farms all along that road, the number is 137. "All are born to 
 die." One family on this road, named Duprey, consisted of 
 husband and wife and 14 children. All the children were mar- 
 ried, save one, 50 years ago. Now all — father, mother, sons, 
 daughters, sons-in-law, and daughters-in-law — are dead, but 
 the youngest daughter. 
 
 When the timber was gone from this section of the country 
 the people first thought they could not make a living without 
 the tall green pines, but time has proved that the clearing and 
 cultivating of the soil is much more to be depended upon than 
 the pines. Considerable of the wealth of Warren county now 
 consists in nice farms. And let me say that the light haired 
 Swedes have done as much to bring these farms to perfection 
 as the native Americans. Where a few years ago wooded 
 hills, valleys and swamps abounded, beautiful farms, with or- 
 chards, painted houses and barns, fat cattle and horses, and 
 everything pertaining to a well-equipped farm, are found. God 
 bless the Swedes ! They take to the American way of doing 
 things as a duck takes to water. Just stop to think a moment 
 what these people from the bleak country of the Scandinavians 
 have done for us in this part of Uncle Sam's domain. They 
 have built up whole streets in Youngsville and most of the 
 neat farms surrounding the town are owned and occupied by 
 families who spell the last syllable of their name with the three 
 letters, "son." Then look at Kane, McKean county. Pa. The 
 town would be in the woods but for these same industrious 
 Johnsons, Swansons, Samuelsons, Thompsons and many other 
 "sons." The traveler who has passed from Kane to Mt. Jewett 
 has noticed the continual string of new farms all along both 
 sides of the B. & O. railroad for the whole distance of 12 miles 
 from Kane to Mt. Jewett. When I passed these two enter- 
 prising towns I was informed by an old settler that every farm, 
 
126 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 except one, and that was owned by a Frenchman, was owned 
 and occupied by Swedes, It looks as if it were not for the 
 Swedes, owls, bears, and wildcats might now be inhabiting 
 these farmlands. 
 
 Almost the same can be said of the land along the B. & O. 
 road west of Kane. Then look at Jamestown, N. Y. One 
 wing, called Brooklyn, I think, is composed entirely of Scandi- 
 navians, and it is a very prosperous part of the city at the outlet 
 of Chautauqua Lake. A few years ago I attended a county 
 agricultural fair at Jamestown, N. Y. The first thing that at- 
 tracted my attention was the Fenton, or Prendergast, guards 
 marching down the sidehill street. When I spoke of the melo- 
 odious music and fine uniforms of the band and the precise 
 step of the military company to an old resident he informed me 
 that every member of both the band and the military company 
 was a Swede. And when I visited the fair grounds and saw 
 the military drill and listened to the strains from those "sons 
 of a cold climate" I thought that surely Jamestown would have 
 had a dull fair if not for her adopted "sons" from Sweden, 
 And I do not have to go to Jamestown and Kane to see the 
 beauties of this foreign population. I can travel a mile from 
 the borough of Youngsville to the top of Hull's Hill and cast 
 my eyes westward, southward, eastward, northward and I see a 
 panorama of fine, well-kept farms stretch out before me. The 
 question arises, "Who cleared up this rough wooded countr}' 
 and made it blossom as the rose?" The answer echoes back: 
 "The Swedes." 
 
 But I have wandered away from my old shingle makers and 
 left them sitting on a bench, pulling the draw shave. Before 
 they were entirely through with this hard work shingle mills 
 came by slow degrees and circular saws and steam have done 
 the work in fast time. One set of four men will now make 
 25,000 shingles in a day, whereas 1,000 were a day's work for 
 one man by hand. No other than sawed shingles can be 
 found nowadays. The sound of the frow and maul is not heard 
 in the land ; neither are many of the wielders of the maul 
 heard in the land. Their homes are the cemeteries in the many 
 parts of the lumber region. Their farms are now generally 
 occupied by their descendants, who perhaps but seldom think of 
 the hardships their fathers and mothers endured. They do 
 things so different and everything is so different that thoughts 
 
GOD BLESS THE SWEDES. 127 
 
 of the absent ones are seldom brought to mind. Sometimes 
 an entirely useless old spinning wheel or some other old relic 
 is seen tucked away in some old, dusty garret that is a remin- 
 der of times long since gone by. But the sight of an old "little 
 wheel" for spinning flax or a "big wheel" for spinning woolen 
 rolls into yarn, to be knit into stockings, has but little effect on 
 a person who has never heard the buzzing or whizzing of them. 
 The writer of this has heard this kind of music so often in the 
 early boyhood that he can now — in his mind's ear — hear it dis- 
 tinctly as his mother sits, turning the "distaff" and feeding the 
 "little wheel," and his eldest sister is making lively steps pulling 
 out the woolen rolls and making long yarn preparatory to being 
 sent to that intelligent being called the "weaver" of home made 
 clothes on the big wheel. And added to this instrumental 
 music would be the vocal music from both of those loved 
 relatives. 
 
 And when it comes to the subject of derricks, how familiar 
 they become to one who has lived in sight of them ever since 
 the first derrick was built to be used in producing oil. I'll give 
 a leaf from my own experience. About 15 years ago I took 
 a trip into Ohio, organizing fraternal insurance lodges. I was 
 gone from the old Keystone State four months and in that 
 time organized 15 lodges. When I had worked about three 
 months, without seeing a derrick or getting a smell of the 
 oleaginous fluid, I landed at Prairie Depot, O. When I got off 
 the train I saw tall derricks all around me and I also inhaled 
 the, to me, delicious smell of "Seneca" oil. The odor was a 
 little stronger than that in Pennsylvania, but not too strong for 
 me. I will not try to tell the real joy of the moment. I had 
 been deprived of the sight of a derrick for a long three months, 
 the only three months since the striking of the first oil well in 
 this country. I felt really at home among th6 "yellow- ham 
 mers," all on account of the sight of those derricks and the 
 . smell of that Ohio oil. The last month of the four I stuck to the 
 oil country and felt very much like being in Pennsylvania. In 
 fact I was among Pennsylvanians. No oil town is complete 
 without Pennsylvanians living in it. And it is a well known 
 fact that all oil towns have new citizens from the old Keystone 
 State, where the oil business was born, and the author feels 
 proud of the fact that he and the oil business were born only 
 nine miles apart. I tarried four days at Prairie Depot, organiz- 
 
128 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 ing a lodge of 40 members, exactly half "yellow hammers" 
 and half "bluejays," the latter name given by the Ohio citizens 
 and the former given by the Pennsylvanians, who had taken up 
 their abode among the Ohio oil wells. 
 
 I found a novelty in this town. A native born citizen in 
 the shape of a young man of 20 years took it into this head that 
 he was a barber. He hired a room, bought a chair and a razor 
 or two and put out a striped pole and commenced shaving men, 
 no, not shaving, but pulling out their beard by the roots. His 
 method was to seat the customer in the chair, put a dirty towel 
 around his neck, mix up some lather, dip his brush into it, 
 spread it on the face of his customer, grab his razor and try to 
 cut off the growth. He made an utter failure of getting all the 
 beard from the face that he made no attempt to soften. He 
 didn't give one second to the rubbing of the lather. I stood this 
 kind of torture twice while I was a guest of that town of rich 
 soil, covered with big oil wells and droves of black hogs. I 
 have given this space to the barber free of charge, knowing full 
 well that it will not interest the general reader. Commercial 
 men, who are shaved by many different barbers, will wonder at 
 this, as no doubt nearly all have endured such chairs. I have 
 been shaved by more than a thousand different barbers and I 
 never found this young man's "double." 
 
 I must not close without giving a winding up word to the 
 reader. Those old pioneers have all gone on to a land where 
 the golden gardens are already cleared and awaiting their ar- 
 rival. Their descendants are enjoying the improvements of 
 the age. The shingle shaving was finished before their fathers 
 left this earthly abode. Now a trolley runs from Youngsville 
 to Sugar Grove, also three 'phone lines and a mail delivery 
 route, so you see these descendants have no need of losing a day 
 occasionally going to town on horseback, in a buggy or afoot 
 for little errands. The old settlers never dreamed of these con- 
 veniences. These time savers make wealthy tillers of the soil. 
 The farmer now raises blooded horses and cattle and sells them 
 for double the money that his father could get, and chickens, 
 eggs and crops of all kinds bring a price unbelievable to the 
 "old man," who split and shaved the shingles. The prices on 
 farmers' goods now make the farmer smile and the townsman 
 frown. The next thing that happens will be the opulent farmer 
 
YOUNGSVILLE FOUNDERS. 129 
 
 riding in his automobile, and some of them do that very thing- 
 now, and others are financially able to do so. So the world 
 moves on at a great pace. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIII. 
 YOUNGSVILLE FOUNDERS AND BUSINESS MEN. 
 
 What will the end be ? 
 
 I thought I had "Old Times in Oildom" finished when I 
 wrote the last chapter. But since that time I have thought 
 of many things that ought to be said of Youngsville that would 
 show the great changes that have taken place in this one little 
 spot since I made my appearance on this earth. 
 
 About 65 years ago Amasa Ransom owned and occupied 
 a farm one mile from Youngsville. He also owned a saw- 
 mill at Garland. Most all owners of sawmills were farmers 
 also at that time. They raised the hay and oats on their 
 farms that kept their teams in good order while hauling the 
 logs to the mills. The farm and mill ran in connection, a 
 kind of "a wheel within a wheel." When a farmer would 
 get a little money put away in a stocking — no banks then — 
 he would build a sawmill. It did not cost as much to build a 
 mill in those days as it does now. The farmer and his boys 
 would cut down big trees and make a dam, hew out some 
 square timber and make a frame building, put in a little 
 machinery, consisting of a water wheel, wooden frame or 
 sash for one saw, set in an upright position, the only saw of 
 any kind in the mill, make a wooden carriage, and that was 
 about all there was to it. The owner and his farm hel]) 
 would do all the work except a few days work by a mill- 
 wright, who made the water wheel and bossed the hanging 
 of the saw in the sash and looked after the "scientific" part of 
 the business. A good millwright stood as high in the estima- 
 tion of the community in general as Edison or Marconi does 
 now. He was paid the magnificent sum of from $2 to $3 a 
 day. It required but a few hundred dollars to put a sawmill 
 in running shape. But it took a great real of hard work to 
 get the money back with the best of pine lumber bringing 
 
 9 
 
I30 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 $4 per thousand feet, or about one-eighth part of the present 
 price in Pittsburg. Perhaps it brought half that amount at 
 the mill. 
 
 Our family lived near Garland. Mr. Ransom, having 
 bought the mill and lands belonging at Tiona, Warren county, 
 Pa., afterv^ards known as the "Joe" Hall property, and still 
 later owned by Clapp, Stone & Co., with 7,000 acres of oil 
 lands, came to Garland and persuaded my father to rent his 
 farm near Youngsville, as he wanted to move to his newly 
 acquired property. My father did not need much coaxing 
 to induce him to lease his log house in the woods and come to 
 the "big city" of Youngsville, with one store and two black- 
 smith shops, one tavern and one church and two little wooden 
 school houses, one on each side of the creek, and perhaps 
 some other "big places of business" that have escaped my 
 memory. The first work that I did after being settled on our 
 newly rented farm was to yoke up the oxen "Buck and 
 Bright," and join a procession of four yoke of oxen and their 
 drivers and travel one mile and a half up Matthews run to 
 the farm now owned and occupied by O. P. Brown, and hitch 
 to one of the largest hickory trees ever seen in this section. 
 In a few^ hours that mammoth tree was lying on the bank of 
 the Brokenstraw creek, in the village of Youngsville. In a 
 day or two the best Democratic carpenters in Youngsville 
 had that big tree peeled and shaped into one of the largest 
 "James K. Polk" liberty poles in Western Pennsylvania. And 
 in a few days more a great gathering of Democrats took 
 place and with rope and tackle, "a few jugs of that which 
 gave them courage," and spread eagle oratory and fuss 
 enough to launch a war vessel, and Colonel William S. Roney 
 for boss, the tallest and straightest Democratic hickory pole, 
 with the largest flag waving from its tiptop, in Warren county, 
 honored the Democrats of Youngsville. My father was always 
 an ardent Democrat. He raised three sons up true to his 
 doctrine, but only one remains true to this father's teaching. 
 That one still lives on the old homestead where the big "Polk 
 and Dallas" hickory pole was cut. Two of his sons have for 
 many years voted the Prohibition ticket. 
 
 At the time I made my debut into Youngsville society by 
 driving our oxen on the occasion mentioned above, 12 young 
 men, the cream of the town, had a society organized named 
 
YOUNGSVILLE FOUNDERS. 131 
 
 "The Youngsville Glee club." They had a wagon box with 
 this name on the outside in large letters. About once a month 
 they would hitch two spans of horses to a wagon and put that 
 box on it, each taking his best girl with him, making 25, 
 counting the driver, and go to some outlying village, take 
 supper — it would be dinner now — and have a good time in 
 general. One of their number, in the course of time, went 
 west "to grow up with the country," and left a vacancy. At 
 their next meeting the writer of this was duly elected a mem- 
 ber to fill the vacancy, the ox-driver, a mile out in the country, 
 the only out-of-town boy in the club. I felt somewhat lonely, 
 but happy. To think that of the many out-of-town boys I was 
 the chosen one was enough to give me the "big head." But I 
 put on the brakes and my head kept its normal size. And not 
 to be egotistical, I tried not to dishonor the club and stuck to 
 it until the old wagon box rotted away and is now only a 
 memory. 
 
 I am going to speak of a few of the old settlers that made 
 Youngsville what it was at that time. The first that comes to 
 mind are John Mead and William Siggins. Judge Siggins 
 lived at Youngsville and owned a sawmill and a gristmill, had 
 a wife and 13 children. The judge was a very tall man — over 
 six feet — and his wife was a very short woman. Nine of the 
 judge's children were boys. There were no mowing machines 
 and the hay was all cut with scythes. The judge would march 
 at the head of his line of sons and when they would reach the 
 meadow the 10 would start in, the judge leading, and how that 
 timothy did come down at their bidding. When one or more 
 are mowing in the same field they have to "keep stroke." 
 Watching this one family of 10 taking the even swing to- 
 gether was a sight not seen every day, even in the day of no 
 mowing machines. And then, in a field of ordinary length 
 when they came out at the end of the field, an acre of new 
 mown hay was drying in the sun. The old judge was a char- 
 acter. When he took hold of anything he generally "got there." 
 At one time he served as constable 12 years. Every year he 
 was elected without much opposition until the twelfth year, 
 when the people thought they would make a change and let 
 some one else have a chance. But they elected the judge to the 
 ofiice of high constable, an oflfice which at that time carried 
 but little business with it. A high constable could only do a 
 
132 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 little borough business. The judge surprised everybody by 
 getting a special law passed by the legislature giving the high 
 . constable of Youngsville borough a legal right to any kind of 
 business that the regular constable could do. And that has 
 been the law to this day. The judge made an excellent con- 
 stable under the old law and the business was nearly all put 
 into his hands under the new law, and the income was as great 
 as it was under the old law. The regular constable regarded 
 it as a good joke and took up another business. At 88 years 
 of an active, well spent life the judge said good bye to all 
 -earthy things and passed away. 
 
 And now comes in the coincidence. John Mead's family was 
 :a double of the William Siggins family. John Mead had a 
 sawmill and gristmill, a mile up Brokenstraw, and a family of 
 13 children. He was as tall as Mr. Siggins, and his wife was 
 as short as Mrs. Siggins. Seldom, if ever, could such a coin- 
 cidence be found. The nearest of this case that has come under 
 my observation is a Mr. Cross and a Mr. Morrison, living at 
 Parthenia. six miles below Irvineton, on the Allegheny river. 
 They were next door neighbors ; only a school house between 
 them, and each had 13 children. 
 
 Another of the pioneers in the Brokenstraw valley was H. P. 
 Kinnear. He was born and reared in Youngsville, and as he 
 grew into manhood be became a leader in the business of the 
 town. Everything pertaining to the good of the town he 
 engineered to the best of his ability. To tell all the benefit that 
 Henry Kinnear was to this town would take more time than I 
 have to spare. But I mention a few of the things that he did to 
 help make Youngsville a nice, well-regulated place to live in. 
 It was by his movements that the little village became a 
 borough more than 50 years ago. There was no other 
 borough in Warren county except Warren. Now there are 
 eight boroughs. He succeeded in organizing Youngsville lodge, 
 No. 500, I. O. O. F., about 60 years ago, and was elected as 
 representative to the Grand Lodge every year while he lived 
 after the organization, 40 years. He, as burgess and council- 
 man, brought about many improvements that will stand as 
 monuments to his love for Youngsville for all time to come. 
 One of the principal landmarks is the Odd Fellows cemetery. 
 The cemetery overlooks the brough from a beautiful eminence 
 about a mile away. This "City of the Dead" was the pride of 
 
YOUNGSVILLE FOUNDERS. 133 
 
 his life until life ended for him about 20 years ago. He gave 
 of his time freely in bringing about borough improvements of 
 all kinds, one of which was to make a nearly level grade on 
 all streets and sidewalks. If a rise of ground appeared any- 
 where on the main streets it was plowed and scraped and 
 carted away until the surface was smooth and even. The same 
 with the sidewalks. If a bump appeared it was soon leveled, 
 and if a shade tree was an inch or two inside the six-foot limit 
 it had to be shoved out to the proper place or taken away en- 
 tirely. In getting this accomplished Mr. Kinnear made many 
 enemies, but he went his way unmoved by the grumbling of the 
 tree owners and now when he and a majority of the grumblers 
 have gone to their eternal homes, about 10 miles of shale 
 brick sidewalks are laid on a level foundation, the grading 
 being done years ago under the supervision of this same H. P. 
 Kinnear. I was not one of the grumblers, but I was obliged 
 to lower the ground at one end of my sidewalk and cut nearly 
 half the roots off of some nice hard maple shade trees. And I 
 am one of the inhabitants of the town who have been permit- 
 ted by the Great Ruler of the Universe to live to see the time 
 that I can walk about 10 miles on the different streets on level 
 brick walks and not stub a toe. But I am not done with Mr. 
 Kinnear yet. He, at different times in his rather eventful life, 
 filled town offices, being sheriff, member of the state legislature 
 and treasurer, chairman of committee on Grand hotel and 
 superintendent of the grounds of Point Chautauqua. In fact, 
 he held all of these offices at one and the same time. And at 
 the time of his death he was president of the Youngsville Sav- 
 ings Bank. Hon. H. P. Kinnear has left his footprints in 
 Youngsville for all time to come. The borough has the ap- 
 pearance of a park in certain places because of his work. 
 
 Charles Whitney was another old-time citizen who did a 
 great deal to make a beautiful place of Youngsville. He 
 owned nearly half the land inside the borough line, nearly 
 all west of the Brokenstraw creek. He owned a sawmill about 
 two miles up the creek and was both a farmer and lumberman. 
 His big farm in Youngsville was covered with pine stumps. 
 He bought a stump machine and summer after summer could 
 be seen from break of day until dark working with his men, 
 not bossing alone, but doing as much work as any of his hired 
 men. Mr. Whitney raised four children. All are, however' 
 
134 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 dead now. His oldest son, Captain George Whitney, did his 
 full share toward putting down the Rebellion. He got up one 
 company, took it to the front and turned it into Colonel Roy 
 Stone's Bucktail regiment, then came back and raised another 
 company and took it to the front. He stayed with this com- 
 pany until the war closed. 
 
 Another citizen of this place is R. P. Davis, a sweet singer, 
 born and reared in this town. He has been singing tenor in 
 the Methodist Episcopal church for the last 50 years. He has 
 missed but few Sundays in his time and considering special 
 occasions would more than average twice. But calling it twice 
 each Sunday, it would count 5,200 trips and about the same 
 number of miles traveled. Counting three hymns to each ser- 
 vice, this shows that he has sung 15,600 hymns. He has, in 
 addition to that, spent about two years' time in the 50 years, 
 in singing at funerals. He has done all this free of charge. 
 In the above mentioned time he has worked a farm, has been 
 sexton of the cemetery 16 years, has been either burgess or 
 councilman 14 years, and has been superintendent of the county 
 farm here three years. All of this inside 50 years. Truly, 
 Reuben has been on the move within the last half century. 
 
 Alden Marsh was one of Youngsville's well-wishers and 
 workers for the town's advancement. He was a successful 
 lumberman and retired with a competency in middle life. He 
 filled the office of county commissioner for three successive 
 terms with great ability. He was a leading Odd Fellow and 
 the I. O. O. F. band turned out and played solemn dirges at 
 his funeral. When he was in business and had plenty of 
 money, and I was a young chap, just commencing business 
 without money, all I had to do was to ask Mr. Marsh for a 
 thousand dollars to use in buying and running lumber to Pitts- 
 burs: and selling it, and it would be forthcoming. He never 
 refused me, and this borrowing was repeated many times. 
 When he died he left his property and cash in bank to his wife. 
 He had no children and when his wife died the property and 
 cash all went to Mrs. Marsh's relatives in Minnesota. No 
 provision was made for keeping his lot in the cemetery lawn 
 mowed and in proper order, but in these long years since Mrs. 
 Marsh's death no weeds or briers have grown on the Marsh lot. 
 For I cannot bear to see a tangle of weeds and briers growing 
 
YOUNGSVILLE FOUNDERS. 135 
 
 on the grave of such a good old financial friend of the long 
 ago. 
 
 John McKinney was another of the moulders of Youngsville. 
 He was one of the first born after the old Scotchman, Matthew- 
 Young, drove stakes and marked out the site for the town of 
 Youngsville. He was the oldest of a family of seven boys and 
 a girl. He, like every provident young man of nearly a cen- 
 tury ago, went into the lumber business, and accumulated a 
 large quantity of land on the waters of the Brokenstraw creek 
 and its branches. Part of it cost him but a few cents per 
 acre, which he bid off at tax sales, as unseated "lands." But 
 the bulk of his land was bought privately. He paid the full 
 value for it. But the full value was not a large amount at that 
 time, when men were working hard, cutting, piling up and 
 burning nice pine timber to make room for very scant crops. 
 Land that was groaning under the weight of the very finest 
 timber that ever stood out of doors was sold at $1.50 per 
 acre. I have bought, at that rate, of the Huidekopers, rather 
 than just take it. It was "all the go" to cut where one could 
 find it. but I always felt a little safer cutting my own timber 
 than Huidekopers'. However, I don't feel like bragging be- 
 cause of my honesty. The reader can just call it cowardice, 
 and let it go at that. 
 
 But to return to John McKinney. His pine-covered lands 
 kept rising, and then how they did rise when Drake struck oil 
 at Titusville! Mr. McKinney owned 100 acres near Hosmer 
 run, a mile above Garland. When they drilled with a spring 
 pole he got a smell of oil and sold it for $20,000. This 
 hundred acres was bid in at a tax sale for a few cents an acre. 
 Great is oil. At that time Mr. McKinney could walk from 
 Youngsville to Irvineton — three miles — on his own land, by 
 zigzagging to the sidehill at a couple of places . He sold 
 several hundred acres of his land holdings at oil prices. When 
 Mr. McKinney was transacting this business mentioned above 
 his two nephews, John L. and "Curt" McKinney, two miles 
 from Youngsville were helping their father James McKinney, 
 run a little sawmill, propelled by an old fashioned wooden 
 water wheel. But when their uncle John died several weeks 
 later, worth nearly a quarter of a million dollars, these two 
 boys were beginning to lay the foundation for their fortunes 
 of millions of dollars. 
 
136 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 John McKinney was a man who loved to help those who 
 tried to help themselves. A case in proof of this : When I was 
 emerging from boyhood to manhood I borrowed $150 of him 
 to pay the Huidekopers' for 100 acres of pine timberland. Two 
 years later I called with money and interest to pay back the 
 borrowed money. When I spoke of interest his answer was 
 this : "I don't charge interest to young men who are trying to 
 do somehting for themselves." He would not and did not 
 take a dollar of interest, although I expected to pay it and 
 came prepared for it. John McKinney was a business man all 
 his lifetime of about 80 years. He never bothered himself 
 about ojfifice, with the exception of one term of three years 
 as sheriff of Warren county, which the voters forced upon him. 
 When he died he was the richest man on the Brokenstraw 
 creek, from its mouth to the headwaters in the state of New 
 York. His oldest son, Arthur McKinney, now lives in this 
 place and has done much to test the territory between Youngs- 
 ville and Irvineton for oil and gas. He is more encouraged at 
 the present time than ever before; has faith that we have a 
 paying oil field between Youngsville and Irvineton. The big 
 flood of 1892 swept everything before, it and business had not 
 been resumed until recently. As one well had put 150 barrels 
 into a 250 barrel tank before the flood, and oil, tank and all 
 were swept down the Brokenstraw and the well has not been 
 touched since. Mr. McKinney has faith enough to clean out 
 that well and try again. 
 
 Philip Mead, Esq., was one of the substantial residents for 
 50 years. He held the office of justice of the peace for 25 
 years without a break. He was one of the leading merchants 
 of this place for 40 years. And when it came to church mat- 
 ters, he was an authority.. No service was complete without 
 his presence. He was always to be found at the Thursday 
 evening prayer meeting at the M. E. church, as well as all 
 Sunday services. He leaves a son, W. J. Mead, who keeps 
 up his father's reputation for business. He runs the leading 
 hardware store of the town, and a daughter, Callie Mead, now 
 holds the position of assistant cashier in the First National 
 Bank of Younofsville. 
 
NEW TIMES IN OILDOM. 137 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIV. 
 
 NEW TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 In a recent chapter I spoke of the pioneers who have make 
 Youngsville what it is. Now I am going to write something 
 which will sound more like "New Times in Oildom." Here 
 goes : Sixteen years ago Youngsville was like a majority of the 
 small towns of the country, nearly at a standstill. Although 
 the location was far ahead of any town of its size in Warren 
 county, being situated in a beautiful valley, averaging a mile 
 wide, ten miles long, underlaid with gravel, where an iron 
 pipe can be driven down 30 or 40 feet in a few hours, and the 
 very best of pure, cold, soft water obtained, its growth was slow, 
 It lacked manufactories. There was considerable money, owned 
 by people who were very conservative. They preferred to 
 keep their money in the banks, at small interest, to risking it 
 in any kind of speculative business. Money makes a poor 
 showing in that way, in fact no shownig at all. That was 
 about the condition of afifairs at Youngsville when W. P. 
 Nutting, a young oil operator who had formerly lived in 
 Youngsville, but who for several years had been a very much 
 alive Clarendon oil operator — came to his former home town 
 and started a bank. Then "Charley" Kay came from Stilson 
 Hill, with little money but with lots of business energy, and 
 went into the steam sawmill business. From that business he 
 entered the steam gristmill business, with John Sheldon, an 
 other Stilson Hill man as a partner. The big flood of 1892 
 carried the mill ofif, leaving nothing but a big hole in the 
 ground. The engine was found nearly a quarter of a mile 
 down the creek, almost hidden by gravel and stones. That 
 ended the mill business for "Charlie," but he had an appetite 
 for business that could not be quenched by the loss of one mill, 
 and a few weeks after the flood found him with Peter Turner 
 and Amil Sagerdahl, starting up a furniture factory in a build- 
 ing reconstructed from a private house. One addition after 
 another was put to this small beginning, until a large and rather 
 commodious furniture factory reared its proud head in the 
 heretofore quiet Youngsville. Then, when "everything was 
 lovely," one quiet evening the fire bell rang, and Youngsville's 
 pride was soon a heap of smouldering ruins. And Youngsville 
 
138 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 lay all summer "in sackcloth and ashes." But C. H. Kay^ 
 superintendent, and his always to be depended upon secretary 
 and treasurer, M. D. Whitney, were not covered with ashes. 
 They were planning the building of a new factory of triple 
 the capacity, and built in a much more convenient place than 
 the old one. And the result is a $250,000 factory, which has 
 paid for itself, and is now bringing to its stockholders enormous 
 dividends. But a word of explanation is necessary in this con- 
 nection. Only $15,000 of stock was sold at the beginning. It 
 now pays dividends on a $250,000 plant. No stock is for sale 
 in this institution. And this is not all. Both Kay and Whit- 
 ney are interested in nearly all the improvements of the town. 
 This large factory employing 150 men is not all. Both the 
 gentlemen named above have done good work for the town, 
 both in erecting of new buildings and in all things pertaining 
 to the advancement of Youngsville. Besides the individual 
 efforts of these two gentlemen, their example has been far- 
 reaching. Two years ago another furniture factory was built, 
 with a capacity for 200 workmen. The main instigators of 
 this factory were Amil Sagerdahl and E. Swanson — Sagerdahl 
 being superintendent. Then the Gem Mirror Works of James- 
 town, N. Y., came and put up a plant as the result of the in- 
 fluence exerted by these two furniture factories. This shows 
 that in the business line one thing follows another. And in 
 building for private families A. F. Swanson takes the lead. 
 This man is an enigma. About 20 years ago he opened a little 
 grocery store with about $400. Today he owns a half dozen 
 stores, dwelling houses sheltering 20 families, owns a hotel, 
 the Youngsville house, owns considerable stock in both furni- 
 ture factories, in the Gem Mirror Works, in the First National 
 Bank, of which he is a director, also the Forest Manufacturing 
 company. He owns an opera house, owns stock in the Standard 
 Shale Brick plant, and other properties "too numerous to men- 
 tion." Mr. Swanson has not made any sensational strikes In 
 the way of speculation. He has conducted a store all these 
 years, and has quietly accumulated somewhere in the neighbor- 
 hood of $100,000. E. C. Swanson, brother of A. F. Swanson, 
 has also done his full share of helping Youngsville. 
 
 C. A. Hazard is another man who believes in making 
 homes for new-comers. For several years he erected two first- 
 class tenement houses each year. A. F. Peterson is another 
 
NEW TIMES IN OILDOM. 139 
 
 gentleman who has built a nice row of brick houses along- 
 West Main street. Mr. Peterson is the president of the Gem 
 Mirror plant and is one of the foremost capitalists of our 
 town. He owns stock in nearly all the industrial plants in the 
 place. E. A. McDowell, superintendent and secretary of the 
 Forest Gas Company, is another of our foremost business up- 
 builders of the town, assisted by his three sons, one of whom, 
 Forest, has gone west, "to grow up with the country." Roy is 
 one of Uncle Sam's "mail route agents," and Fred is cashier of 
 the First National Bank of Youngsville. Charles Newgreen 
 is another man who has been active in the work of helping to 
 double the population of the town in the last five years. 
 
 Hon. J. B. White, a former resident of Youngsville, but now 
 a resident of Kansas City in the winter, and Chautauqua Lake 
 in the summer, has done his share in the educational line. 
 Three years ago he built a High School building costing 
 $25,000 in memory of his son Frank. In the same year the 
 Currie Memorial Industrial school building was erected. J. T. 
 Currie, a wealthy resident, died about 19 years ago, leaving 
 money on interest for the purpose of putting up a building 
 where the boys can learn to do carpenter work, iron work — 
 work at other trades — thereby educating the hands as well as 
 the head; a place where the girls can also learn the art of 
 cooking and sewing. At the same time the old four-story 
 wooden school building was veneered with No. i standard 
 shale brick and overhauled generally. Now we have a row 
 of three brick school buildings, fronting on College street, 
 with a background of three acres for a playground for the 
 children. I have traveled a great deal in New York state, 
 Pennsylvania, Ohio, West Virginia and Canada, and I have 
 never seen a town of 2,000 inhabitants have as many nice 
 school buildings as this town has. And we have the living 
 J. B. White and the dead J. T. Currie to thank for two of the 
 finest of the buildings. Both of these magnificient gifts were 
 turned over to the Youngsville school board as free gifts. 
 
 C. S. Mead, the leading dry goods merchant of this place, 
 has also been one of our town builders. He owns the old H. P. 
 Kinnear farm, which is situated near the center of the borough 
 and has there a little village of his own. 
 
 Among the newcomers is Robert Slater, a man who has 
 made a great deal of money along the Allegheny river at the 
 
I40 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 lumber business. He is a good citizen to have lying around 
 loose. He takes stock in all manufactories that are being 
 built. 
 
 This is an answer to the question often asked, "What makes 
 Youngsville grow so fast?" It is the enterprising moneyed 
 men. And let me add that the town is often helped by the enter- 
 prising and "moneyed ladies." Mrs. Laura Jackson and Mrs. 
 Frank Kay built two of the finest of the many brick houses 
 erected last year. Mrs. McCormick, Miss Callie Mead and other 
 ladies own nice brick houses. Oh, yes, the ladies are doing their 
 full share of the work of making Youngsville what it is today ; 
 the only town of its size that I know of which has laid about 
 ten miles of shale brick sidewalk within the last five years, and 
 doubled its population in the same length of time, except of 
 course towns that have struck oil or gas, or opened coal mines. 
 
 Another who must not be left out among the helpers in 
 Youngsville, is H. C. Preston, who has been the superintendent 
 of the Rouse hospital farm here for the last 12 years. 
 
 John A. Day, a man who was born here," about 50 years ago, 
 is counted among one of the most enterprising citizens of the 
 borough. He, single handed and alone, promoted the Warren 
 County Traction Co. He brought C. H. Smith, G. W. Wood, 
 Mr. Gibson, Mr. Bailey and other moneyed men of Sheffield, 
 and William Culbertson, of Girard, the wealthiest man in Erie 
 county, Pa., into the company which made it a success from the 
 start. The roadbed is cut and filled the whole nine miles, mak- 
 ing it a road for both passengers and freight. The road will 
 soon be extended from Sugar Grove to Chautauqua, a distance 
 of about 16 miles, and from Youngsville to Warren, a distance 
 of nine miles. Then it will be one of the best paying properties 
 of the kind in the country. No roads, either steam or electric, 
 parallel it from Youngsville to Chautauqua. It has a splendid 
 farming country all to itself. Mr. Day has not let this monop- 
 olize his mind entirely. Just to fill in his time while he has 
 been building the trolley road on his own hook he has built 
 telephone lines nearly all over Warren county. And his only 
 son, Archie, "is a chip of the old block." Archie has stiick up 
 his poles and strung his wires and does the "hello" business 
 for the wealthy and .enterprising town of Sheffield,. 22 miles 
 east of Youngsville. 
 
"DUNC" KARNS AND ''TOM" KING. 141 
 
 CHAPTER XXXV. 
 
 "DUNC" KARNS AND "TOM" KING. 
 
 Noticing the announcement of the death of S. D. Karns 
 brings very forcibly to my mind once again "Old Times in 
 Oildom" in Parker City. I owned a lumber yard in thai: 
 noted city at its inception. "Dune," as he was called by eyery- 
 body, lived in his oil country house, next door to my lumber 
 office. He was a lively oil operator and no mistake. All he 
 had to do was to drill a hole in the ground and get a big 
 gusher of five or ten hundred barrels a day. Oil was four dol- 
 lars a barrel, and his income v^^as simply immense. Everything 
 he took hold of melted into great piles of money. He bought, 
 or leased, the McClimens farm, one mile and a half south of 
 Petrolia, and aside from the gusher oil wells, he made a nice 
 little pile in lots, on which to build "Karns City." The writer 
 of this bought ground for an opera house, a restaurant and 
 hotel and a city office, where was located the lumber business 
 and Western Union telegraph office, and land on which the 
 lumber yard was situated. All these pieces of land were situat- 
 ed in the western part of the town, and when the town burned, 
 a cross street was all that saved my property. My chief loss 
 was simply some ornamental cut glass in the "telegraphic" part 
 of the building, worth but a couple of hundred dollars. This 
 would have been saved if the wild, noisy crowd of men had 
 obeyed my instructions not to carry it out, but to let it take its 
 chances, as there was a cross street between my building 
 and the fire, and as the fire companies from Parker City, 
 Petrolia and Millerstown each had a stream of water on the 
 fire, I felt in but little danger. But they paid not the least at- 
 tention to me. They were crazy, and they rushed past me as 
 I stood in the front door, and a half dozen grabbed the frame 
 work and carried the whole business out and into the middle 
 of the street, where they dumped it into the mud, and the fire 
 companies soon made mince meat of it. After that fire, Karns 
 City was partly rebuilt, but it never fully recovered from the 
 damage. But it is today far from being a toad-stool town. 
 It is a pretty little farming village, reinforced by many old time 
 wells, and it will be a success as long as good producing farms 
 abound in that region. 
 
142 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 But back to "Dune" Karns. He was "it" in everything per- 
 taining to the business of Parker City and vicinity. Any kind 
 of business that did not have Karns attached to one or the 
 other end of the names of it was considered "shiall potatoes." 
 It was "Parker and Karns City railroad," "Karns bank," 
 "Karns bridge," "Karns City," "Karns pipe line," in fact he 
 was the main spring. "Dune" was not one of those business 
 men who go around with a troubled look on his face. No, 
 indeed ! He scattered sunshine every day. He mixed pleasure 
 with business, and had a good time generally. He was a young 
 man, full of life, and energy when his great piles of money fell 
 upon him. The weight of his money did not crush him. He 
 never put on money airs, and make himself disagreeable to 
 the average man. He would play a game of billiards with a 
 respectable oil worker with as much enjoyment as he would 
 have had playing with the owner of a thousand-barrel well. I 
 recollect one little mark of pride on his part, however. He 
 bought a billiard cue, finished with silver trimmings. The bil- 
 liard man kept Mr. Karns' cue in a separate receptacle from 
 the other sticks. Although this looked somewhat "uppish," 
 "Dune" bought it for what it was, a finely wrought plaything. 
 
 The first sign of opulence on "Dune's" part was the building 
 of a fine brick mansion a few miles below Freeport, Pa. He 
 graded a lawn all around it, large enough for a common sized 
 farm, with a nice setting of evergreens all over it. This place 
 was on the opposite side of the Allegheny river from his boy- 
 hood home — Karns eddy. But the old saying it, "It's a long 
 lane that has no turning." The lane was turned with "Dune," 
 but turned the wrong way. He was not the first to dip in a 
 little too deep, nor will he be the last. The oil country is 
 paved with men who have made and lost money. The writer 
 speaks from experience, he having earned a small fortune in 
 two years and lost it in one. You see by this that you can go 
 down hill twice as fast as you can go up. At a certain time 
 when the oil business was at its height, there were 30 lumber 
 yards in the lower oil regions. These lumber yards were all 
 doing a good business, when, lo and behold ! oil dropped from 
 $3.00 a barrel to 50 cents a barrel. Then the lumber men got 
 it "in the neck." Oil operators by the score, who had been 
 paying their lumber bills every 30 days, went into bankruptcy. 
 One little bit of an example is this : One operator, who had been 
 
"DUNC KARNS AND "TOM" KING. 143 
 
 one of my best customers failed for $1,500,000. Then where 
 was my $900 lumber bill? This kind of thing was not un- 
 common. Out of this number, 30 yards, only two came off un- 
 scathed — 28 having found the oil country a slippery place to do 
 business in. Money slipped into the dealers pocket easily, but 
 it slipped out again much more easily and quickly than it came. 
 You may ask 28 lumber yard owners if they do not agree with 
 me. One of the surviving two is now dead, leaving but one 
 witness in favor of the beauties of the lumber business in the 
 "lower oil regions." 
 
 The Parker City of today in a business point of view, is 
 not a shadow of its former self. I feel inclined to give one 
 incident of many that could be given to show the strenuous 
 way the Allegheny Valley railroad had of doing business. The 
 railroad being on the opposite side of the river from Parker 
 City, with onl}'- a wire cable to guide a ferry boat across the 
 stream, made it anything but easy to do business in the new 
 and hustling town. Everything was "hurly-burly." The short 
 side track at the "Phillips House" could not hold half the cars 
 sent to the new oil town, and the cars would be "switched" off 
 at Foxburg, three miles above, or at Bear creek, one mile be- 
 low, and they would lie there until a small opening on the 
 switch at the Phillips House could make room for one or two 
 cars. Then the cars destined for Parker City would be 
 "switched in." One day the freight train men put two car 
 loads of lumber for my yard, lumber needed at once for oil 
 well purposes, on Bear creek end of the side track. No room 
 was made for cars for nearly a week, and no team could get 
 near the cars to unload the lumber. As "gondolas" were in 
 great demand about that time the railroad could not well spare 
 its cars a week at a time lying idle on a side track. Consequent- 
 ly "Tom" King, assistant superintendent of the road, came up 
 from Pittsburg and ordered his track workers to pitch my 
 lumber down the steep bank onto the gravelly beach. There it 
 was, partly in the water and partly out of the water, before I 
 was even aware of the "King's" decree. Well, my customers 
 were in a great hurry for the lumber and I put my own team 
 and a couple of other teams at work hauling that lumber nearly 
 a half mile up that river beach over gravel, and rocks and up a 
 steep bank. A team could haul about one quarter of a load 
 at a trip, and it was fully $100 damage to me considering the 
 
144 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 breakage and extra teaming, lost time and everything. I had 
 not time to sue the railroad company. "Tom" King had not 
 time to lose with a law suit, and the most important of all the 
 reasons for not suing the railroad was that I had a free pass 
 over the road from year to year, and if I had resented "Tom's" 
 mean action it would have, in all probability, had a bad effect 
 on the pass. And as the pass covered the Allegheny Valley 
 road and its branches, and I was over the road very often, 1 
 figured that it would not take a great while to "deadhead" 
 $ioo worth of transportation in my kind of business. So 
 "Tom" King was not put in the sheriff's hands to answer for 
 his unheard of way of doing unheard of things. I hear that 
 "Tom" King, with a big "K," is still railroading in the 
 western country somewhere. If he takes such liberties with 
 some of those cowboys as he did with me he would have to 
 "excuse himself" at the point of one of their playthings, a 
 revolver. But what is the use of being named King if you 
 can't be a King. 
 
 It was uphill and downhill business those days to run a 
 lumber yard in the new Eldorado even when the hard-worked 
 yard master could get a car on that little short side track at 
 the Phillips House where wagons could reach it. It was no 
 picnic to get the lumber to the yard on the other side of the 
 river. When the teamster was lucky enough to get his team 
 in through the crowd of teams it required two men to load the 
 wagon, one on the railroad car and another on the wagon. 
 Then the brakes had to be put on good and hard to get down 
 the steep river bank and onto Fullerton & McLaughlin's 
 chain ferry boat. Then upon reaching the Parker side of the 
 river a steep bank had to be ascended before reaching the yard. 
 It cost something to get lumber from that little crowded side 
 track to the yard, the wages of two men and team and the 
 tremendous ferry toll of Fullerton & McLaughlin on small 
 loads. And now I will give the other side for there were two 
 sides to the business : I bought a raft of icxd.ooo feet of boards 
 from the Weston mills, three miles above Olean, N. Y., on 
 Monday morning, paying $io per thousand feet for it in the 
 water. Saturday evening it was all gone at $19 per thousand 
 feet. This was without cost to me. The oil operators would 
 drive their teams into the water beside the raft and load their 
 wagons from the raft. I cleared ^900 on that raft in one week 
 
WARREN'S BIG MEN. 14.:; 
 
 without touching a board. Another $900 easy transaction took 
 place a short time after the last mentioned. A bridge was 
 built across the river and the contractor gave me the contract 
 of furnishing the square hard maple timber to put under the 
 bottom of the stone piers. I gave the contract to a Springcreek 
 mill owner at his own price and cleared about $900 without 
 tounching a piece of this timber. This looks like making 
 money easily. But old saying is: "Come easy, go easy." As 
 stated heretofore in these chapters there is no trouble about the 
 reader seeing where the "go easy" came in. All the old oper- 
 ators will remember the method, if there was any method in it, 
 of doing business. It was up and down and up and down again 
 and again and all branches of buisness were in a state of chaos 
 until the Standard Oil Company, through marvelous manage- 
 ment, gradually brought things in the oil country into under- 
 standable shape. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVI. 
 
 WARREN'S BIG MEN. 
 
 At this time there comes to my mind many of the old busi- 
 ness men of Warren, Pa. There were among the members of 
 the bar Judge S. P. Johnson, Judge Rasselas Brown, Judge 
 Glenni W. Scofleld, Thomas Struthers, Judge L. D. Wetmore, 
 William Parmlee, J. D. James, and Judge W. D. Brown. Of 
 those named all are dead but the last named, who has good 
 health and the prospect of enjoying the well earned fruits of 
 his former efforts for many years to come. Judge Johnson 
 was noted for his stern visage and plain talk. During his 
 long and successful legal term he never spoke but he said 
 something in a manner to be plainly understood. Many were 
 offended at his plain speaking, biftt those who knew him best 
 knew well that underlying his stern outward appearance was 
 a warm and tender heart. The writer had business relations 
 with him and was never more kindly treated. The last inter- 
 view was just before the opening of the World's Fair at 
 Chicago. I found him in ,the consulting room of Thomas 
 Struther's law office, writing that philanthropist's last will and 
 testament. It was a somewhat sad sight to meet those two 
 
 10 
 
146 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 substantial old lawyers trembling on the very edge of eternity, 
 making a disposition of their very large inheritance. The 
 judge dropped the will writing and accompanied me to the 
 court house. On the way he, the judge, informed me that 
 he had been at Chicago to see the "White City." He said he 
 was well paid for his trip. Said he : "I am 84 years of age but 
 I arn in good health and active for a man of my years. I can 
 walk nearly as nimble as ever." He then proceeded to give 
 me an example of his nimbleness. "And," he said, "I hope to 
 live long enough to make the second visit to the World's 
 Fair, after those buildings are filled with the best products of 
 the world." But, alas, for the uncertainty of all things mortal. 
 The judge was seized with sickness and died before those 
 buildings were filled. These old lawyers were an honor to 
 Warren. At the time of which I write Warren and Erie 
 counties were one congressional district. Warren furnished 
 the member of congress for both counties for many years, 
 Erie being left out of the race. The large county and city 
 of Erie seemed to be content to help elect Warren county men 
 to represent them on the floor of congress. G. W. Scofield 
 was elected and re-elected several terms. Then Colonel L. 
 F. Watson followed him a couple of terms, and when Erie did 
 put forward a man and elected him, Mr. Scofield was chosen 
 congressman-at-large. The congressman elected in Erie was 
 C. B. Curtis, a former lawyer of Warren. Then came a 
 genuine Erie county man, Mr. Brainard. All those named 
 above were Republicans, but then a Democrat — Erie's pride — 
 walked over the 4,000 Republican majority a couple of times, 
 and represented his, the "wildcat district" — with much credit 
 to himself and to his constituents. Colonel Scott was as smart 
 as he was rich. He was an honor to the Democratic party, 
 but the old saying is "the good die young," and years ago 
 Erie's lamented citizen, W. L. Scott, passed away. 
 
 But let us return to Warren. All the old set of lawyers 
 were full of legal lore and an honor to the legal profession. 
 One of the recent deaths of the Warren judges was that of 
 Hon. L. D. Wetmore. His 10 years on the bench as president 
 judge was a pleasant term for both himself and people. He 
 did not seem to grow old under the pressure of that responsible 
 office, but rather a:ppeared happy, but he, too, had to obey the 
 call of the Great Judge of the World. 
 
WARREN'S BIG MEN. 147 
 
 Another of the president judges was "Charhe" Noyes, as he 
 was famiharly called by his innumerable friends. Although a 
 Democrat, in a strong Republican county, he was elected to the 
 high office of president judge by a good majority. Judge 
 Noyes was a man of many parts. He was connected with all 
 good societies and everything tending to make Warren one of 
 the finest and best towns of its size in the country. When he 
 died the newspapers were filled with eulogies. He was indeed 
 missed. He was a young man at the time of his death, but 
 was old in the knowledge of the laws of this country. 
 
 I will now make mention of the younger and at present 
 active lawyers at the Warren county bar : These are D. I. 
 Ball, D. U. Aired, Hon. O. C. Allen and his son, Samuel — 
 Bordwell, W. W. Wilber, W. M. Lindsey, who has just com- 
 pleted a lo-year term as president judge with honor to himself 
 and to his constituents, and Charles W. Stone and son, Ralph. 
 C. W. Stone has filled about all the offices worth having in the 
 state of Pennsylvania. From principal of the Warren schools 
 he has passed through the state assembly, state senate, lieuten- 
 ant governorship and three or four terms of congress. Mr. 
 Stone stood second best of the hundreds of congressman at 
 Washington. When "Tom" B. Reid, the then speaker of the 
 house, was absent for a week at a time he chose the Hon. 
 Charles W. Stone to take his place. 
 
 But let me now tell of the old, old lumbermen. There were 
 Orris Hall, "Joe" Hall, Chapin Hall, and Judge Hall, Boon 
 Mead, Guy Irvine, A. H. Ludlow, S. H. and S. V. Davis, 
 James Eddy, "Zack" Eddy, Judge L. D. Wetmore, Hon. L. 
 F. Watson, Andrew Hertzel and a host of others, who made 
 fortunes in the lumber business, when nearly the whole coun- 
 ty and the adjoining county of Forest were literally green with 
 as fine pine trees as were ever found anywhere. Many of the 
 old settlers of Warren made their fortunes by "bidding off" 
 unseated wild land. I'll take Colonel Watson as an example. 
 He came to Warren from Titusville when a mere boy, with 
 25 cents in his pocket, but full of energy, business and integrity. 
 He commenced work in a store on a very small salary, but he, 
 unlike many young men, saved his money. When the day 
 came for the selling of unseated lands — unseated land means 
 that many owners of wild land though it not worth while to 
 pay their taxes in the wilderness of Forest and Warren coun- 
 
148 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 ties, and let the assessors place them on the unseated list — 
 young Watson was possessed of a keen vision and he could 
 look into the future and use good common sense. He expected 
 and knew that this country would grow and this isolated tim- 
 ber would come into the market sometime in the future. Con- 
 sequently he bought large lots of this wild land. It cost but 
 a few cents an acre and a small amount of his savings would 
 buy large tracts of land. 
 
 I'll give a conversation that I had with Mr. Watson a few 
 years ago in the directors' room of the Warren Savings bank. 
 I was seated in an easy chair when Mr. Watson entered the 
 room. After a cordial shake of my hand, and a warm hand 
 was always extended to his friends by that genial gentleman, 
 he said, "I have just got back from quite an extended trip 
 over in Forest county. Yesterday I saw for the first time a 
 thousand acre lot that I bought at tax sale 50 years ago. I 
 paid a few cents an acre for it. It is completely covered with 
 pine all over, except about 20 acres in one corner, and that 
 20 acres is covered with the best of hemlock timber. I had 
 heard that it was a good pine lot, but there are about 8,000,- 
 000 feet more pine than I expected." I made this remark: 
 "The surplus, or the timber that you did not know that you 
 owned, is worth more than your whole bank here." He said 
 "yes." 
 
 Since the interview above mentioned all timber has raised 
 more than one-half in price. Mr. Watson became several times 
 a millionaire. This certain piece was one of many pieces of 
 his early purchases of wild lands at unseated sales on the 
 court house steps. Many other old settlers, the late Hon. L. 
 D. Wetmore among the number, became immensely wealthy 
 by the same fair methods. And no wonder that Warren is one 
 of the wealthiest cities of its size to be found anywhere. 
 
 The late Hon. Henry Brace helped Mr. Watson with some 
 of his land sales and afterwards went to California and be- 
 came wealthy himself in timber and other transactions. He 
 was buried in the Odd Fellows cemetery at Youngsville only 
 a short time ago. Mr. Brace was at Mr. Watson's side when 
 he (Watson) dropped dead in Washington, D. C, and like a 
 coincidence death came to Mr. Brace at his California home 
 instantaneously. All of the above named old time lumbermen 
 have sent their last rafts down the Allegheny, except the last 
 
WARREN'S BIG MEN. 149 
 
 named, Andrew Hertzel, and it is to be hoped that he will 
 live to be 100 years old to superintend the beautiful Odd Fel- 
 lows' cemetery at Warren as he has managed it for the last 
 40 years without one dollar of cost to the society. Can Mr. 
 Hertzel's equal in this respect be found in this or any other 
 country? Nearly every day finds him driving "over the river" 
 to the beautiful city of the dead, where he keeps his eyes on 
 all the workmen and gives them friendly instructions. There 
 is only one Andrew Hertzel. Two other gentlemen, S. V. 
 and S. H. Davis, twin brothers, were helpers of Mr. Hertzel 
 in his laudable work while they were busy citizens of Warren. 
 Their twinship has ended here on this earth and has com- 
 menced again in the unknown country beyond. A word 
 about these two that were nearly always seen together here 
 while alive on this earth will not be amiss : They were both 
 Democrats living in a county with 1,500 Republican majority. 
 S. V. received the Democratic nomination for sheriff of War- 
 ren county and was elected over his Republican opponent by a 
 majority of 85. When S. V.'s time expired his twin brother, 
 S. H. Davis, repeated the performance of his twin brother, S. 
 V. Davis, the only difference being that the former had a 
 trifle more of a majority than the latter named. Those three 
 workers for the cemetery were also three good workers in 
 the I. O. O. F. lodge at Warren which controls the cemetery. 
 The two last named are missed in the councils of both the 
 lodge and cemetery. 
 
 Away back, 60 years ago, Guy Irvine was the king lumber- 
 man of the Allegheny river. He owned many sawmills, all 
 propelled by water, and it required many mills those days of 
 single sash, upright saws, to manufacture his dozens of "Alle- 
 gheny fleets." On the pring freshet Mr. Irvine would float to 
 Pittsburg fleet after fleet, and tie them up to both shores of the 
 river for miles above the city. He would pay off his army of 
 "hands," leaving one to each raft to keep it afloat as the water 
 would recede. After each man had received his nine to twelve 
 dollars, about the amount paid in those early days for a down 
 the river trip, Mr. Irvine would take them to the Red Lion 
 hotel, on the Pittsburg side of the river, or to Old Ton> 
 Gardner's hotel on the Allegheny side of the river, and treat 
 them to a "cityfied meal." And let me say right here that no 
 landlord ever got rich from those men's meals. After a week 
 
I50 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 on the raft, subsisting on bread, meat and potatoes, prepared 
 by some man who was taking his first lessons in cooking, those 
 hungry up-the-river men got away with all the apple butter, 
 apple sause, stewed peaches, stewed cherries, etc., that came be- 
 fore them. No newfangled side dishes were used in those 
 early day taverns. The victuals were heaped up on single 
 plates, and each fellow pitched in and helped himself. If the 
 "tavern keeper" got full pay for the raw material of one of 
 those meals — the cooking thrown in — he came off lucky. When 
 those Pennsylvanians and New York state Yankees had more 
 than satisfied "the inner man," a large majority of them in- 
 dulged in something stronger than river water, and then would 
 commence the foot sore march toward their homes up the Alle- 
 gheny. 
 
 Those raftsmen were a lively set, both floating southward 
 on an easy going raft or trudging northward over hard stony 
 roads. The denizens of the scattered farms along the way 
 generally let those raftsmen run things in their own way. 
 And let it be said to the credit of those pioneer raftsmen, whom 
 I have accompanied many times, that their wild deeds were few 
 and far between. 
 
 But let me return once again to Guy Irvine. He, with ail 
 his riches, had not the enjoyment of his northern home only a 
 small part of the summer months. He could not, as now, slip 
 up home in a day or in a night and visit his family and back 
 again in the same length of time, but he had to stay away a 
 long time to sell and deliver his vast amount of lumber. And 
 when he did get away, sometimes nearing the fall of the year, 
 he would come home on horseback, loaded down with money. 
 And he was bold enough to ride along through farm and 
 woodland without a companion. One of the great wonders 
 is that no highwayman even "interviewed" him. 
 
 A story was rife at one time that one robber stationed 
 himself in a dense piece of woods, with a gun, and awaited the 
 passing of Mr. Irvine. But in vain, as Mr. Irvine had hap- 
 pened to take another route and thereby spoiled the robber's 
 fun. 
 
 Let us look at the great strides in the manner of doing busi- 
 ness now, compared with 60 or 70 years ago. Instead of 
 running the risk of being robbed, if Mr. Irvine was selling 
 lumber now at Pittsburg, he would only have to drop his pile 
 
WEST VIRGINIA EXPERIENCES. 151 
 
 of money into a Pittsburg bank, take a certificate of deposit 
 and drop it into a Warren bank when he got home, ask for a 
 blank check book, and draw his money at his pleasure. And 
 instead of that tiresome ride on horseback, he could step into 
 a Pullman car and sleep until he reached his home. 
 
 I would like to speak of more of the old time business men 
 of Warren, but to do the beautiful island town full justice 1 
 would have to write a whole book. I can, with my mind's eye, 
 look back and see Judges Galbraith, Vincent, Johnson, Brown, 
 Noyes, Lindsey and Wetmore. The reader, who was acquainted 
 with those legal lights, will see that five out of the seven have 
 presided at their last suit, Judge Vincent having only recentl> 
 passed away. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVII. 
 WEST VIRGINIA EXPERIENCES. 
 
 I think a few words about West Virginia will be interesting. 
 The writer of this spent the largest part of two years in the 
 ''Mountain State," organizing insurance lodges. It was easy 
 work to get a list of names of men and women and organize a 
 lodge, but when it came to paying dues and assessments, in 
 some of the 20 towns where I organized they were "not in it." 
 I organized five lodges in Wheeling, the largest city in West 
 Virginia. The members were always on hand at the meetings 
 of the order, but when it came to paying their assessments 
 and keeping their protection safe, they were not as good as the 
 Pennsylvania people. In the way of entertainments they were 
 the best in the world. I made an appointment with 10 lodges 
 for a visit from the supreme president of the order. I notified 
 each lodge of the time of his appearance. The meetings were 
 for all members of the order and non-members. Well, those 
 10 meetings were 10 big picnics. They had entertainments 
 galore. We had brass bands, mandolin clubs, quartets, duets, 
 solos, recitations, oratory and everything that would add to 
 the entertainment of a crowd. At Wheeling the entertainment 
 was far in advance of anything ever witnessed before, or since, 
 by such a "jiner" as I, and I belong to nine different secret 
 societies. I'll not try to describe this entertainment, but I'll 
 
152 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM.^ 
 
 give a few pointers that will give the readers a chance to guess 
 at the magnificence of the performance. The Grand opera 
 house was the place of the meeting. The orchestra belonging 
 to the building made splendid music. The best performers of 
 the city gave their efforts on all parts of the varied program. 
 The members of the order were all dressed up to their special 
 parts in the program at great cost to themselves. In fact, this 
 could hardly be called an amateur performance. The per- 
 formers — many of them — were professionals. This is one of 
 the "unguessable" things. To think of men and women at- 
 tending so faithfully to the frivolous parts at great cost and 
 neglecting the impotrant parts at little cost. 
 
 Let me make a little correction. I said I had organized 
 five lodges at Wheeling. One was at Benwood and another 
 at McMechen, but all were on the trolley lines. Of the 20 
 lodges organized in West Virginia, they were nearly all in oil 
 towns. Many, in fact a majority of my members, were Pennsyl- 
 vania oil men and women. The inhabitants of West Virginia 
 are largely made up of Pennsylvania and Ohio people. The 
 Pennsylvania people are a little more appreciated than the Ohio 
 people. Senator Stephen B. Elkins informed me, in the town 
 named after him, that the Pennsylvania people took much 
 more kindly to West Virginia than the Ohio people. The for- 
 mer are accustomed to a mountainous country and the latter 
 to a level country. The Senator says it makes more dif- 
 ference than one would suppose at first thought. 
 
 There is but one difference between the two states of 
 Pennsylvania and West Virginia. The sidehills are very much 
 more precipitous in West Virginia than in Pennsylvania. When 
 I first saw Wheelng it was a black little village, not much 
 thought of by the raftsmen who rode lazily past it from the 
 Pennsylvania and York State lumber woods. Black coal smoke 
 rose in several places as a nest tgg to Wheeling's future great- 
 ness in the iron business of the country. Parkersburg was the 
 next largest town on the Virginia side of the Ohio river — it 
 was old Virginia at that time, as no division had been made. 
 Parkersburg was a little huddle of old fashioned houses. -Just 
 make the comparison now, and then. Now it is a city of nearly 
 20,000 inhabitants. All the recent buildings are up-to-date — 
 built in the latest fashion. Oil has been largely instrumental 
 in making Parkersburg what it is today. Many of the inhab- 
 
WEST VIRGINIA EXPERIENCES. ' 153.. 
 
 itants of the city came there full-fledged oil operators, as they 
 generally came from the Pennsylvania oil fields up the river. 
 I spent four months within the confines of the old-time city 
 and found a very social and intelligent lot of cizitens. I, for the 
 first time since railroads were built, did not ride one rod in a 
 railroad coach in four months. I organized a lodge of over 200 
 members before I left the town, and, unlike Wheeling, all the 
 insured members paid their assessments promptly each month. 
 It was the best lodge of the 475 that I have organized within 
 the last 32 years. 
 
 I stopped at the Palace hotel that winter, and one peculiarity 
 of the situation was that nearly all the young couples who 
 came across the river from the state of Ohio to be joined in 
 wedlock put up at the Palace hotel. The proprietor of this, 
 hotel had a preacher within easy call always when one of these 
 matrimonially inclined couples were ready to put on the yoke, 
 and he had a standing witness in the person of your humble 
 servant. I became regular in mj^ attendance at weddings. 
 The name of that landlord and my own decorated the marriage 
 certificates of dozens of new beginners as sailors on the matri- 
 monial sea. 
 
 I found myself in a rather noted crowd at dinner one day. 
 There were seven Hatfields and one Brown at the table. The 
 McCoys stopped at another hotel. The relationship did not 
 seem exactly cordial between the two famielies, although they 
 were both making a visit to Parkersburg at the same time. A 
 word of explanation is due here. A great land suit was on in 
 the United States court, then being held at Parkersburg, and 
 the Hatfields and McCoys were there as witnesses. But they 
 demonstrated their good sense by not mixing up the names of 
 the two families on the same hotel register. Well, I had the 
 honor of dining at a table full of Hatfields, with "Devil Anse" 
 as one of the number. As they had been stopping at the 
 "Palace" and boarding quietly with people that were not 
 murderers, for nearly a week, we all got used to them and it 
 was no great feat to be one of eight who was not a Hatfield, 
 at the same table at the same time. In fact, I became somewhat 
 intimate with the family. I was assured that if I behaved my- 
 self I would be in no danger of bodily harm. I'll give a little 
 conversation that one of the crowd and I indulged in one even- 
 ing while we sat quietly in the hotel office. I said, "People up- 
 
154 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 your way say that you fellows are not a very bad lot in gen- 
 eral." He replied, "Oh, we are not the worst men in the world, 
 but a little fiery." I told him that I "would write them up" for 
 the Parkersburg Journal and that I would hand him a copy of 
 the paper. He said, "all right, I would like to have it." The 
 next day I went to the railroad depot and just as the train 
 moved off toward the mountain home of the Hatfields I handed 
 him a copy of the Journal. I will explain why I held the paper 
 until the departure of the train. I thought that if he should 
 take offense at any part of my remarks I would rather he would 
 take offense riding on a trian speeding way from Parkersburg 
 than before he left the city. Now, to show plainly how we 
 can be deceived in appearances, one of those Hatfields had 
 every appearance of being a perfect gentleman, both in dress 
 and actions. I said to myself there is no danger of that man 
 ever murdering anyone. But in less than tw^o years from that 
 time I read an account in the papers of a man being murdered 
 by this same quiet looking Hatfield. But time mellows all 
 things. I have since read of the two noted families inter- 
 marrying and thereby modifying the feud between the world 
 renowned Hatfields and McCoys. 
 
 I never in my 32 years of organizing lodges met but two 
 editors of newspapers who refused to publish the list of of- 
 ficers of my newly organized lodges. The first was a Penn- 
 sylvania editor, a U. P. preacher, by the way. Secret societies 
 were not to his liking. The other was a McCoy, of West 
 Virginia. He was a lawyer, editor, owner of a big oil farm and 
 a trustee of the Presbyterian church. It was not because of 
 his religious scruples that he refused the publication of the list 
 of officers, but he felt that it was "paid matter." He did not 
 seem to know that editors in general are very much pleased to 
 have items of local news of that character. Often the managers 
 of daily papers in large cities have sent their news gatherers to 
 the ante room of the lodge rooms with orders to stay until the 
 list of officers could be obtained. I have had them wait two 
 hours before the installation was finished. 
 
 The first locomotive that I saw running along a track was 
 in the state of Ohio. I was on a lumber raft, lazily floating 
 down the Ohio river, when we met an engine, with no coaches 
 attached, coming up the river, on the Ohio side. It was a sight 
 for our up-the-Allegheny river eyes, and I also actually had 
 
WEST VIRGINIA EXPERIENCES. 155 
 
 my first ride on steam propelled cars on the same side of that 
 same river. After landing our Ohio fleet at Cincinnati, and 
 staying as watchman on the raft until my employer, the late 
 Eben G. Mead, than whom no better man ran lumber to the 
 lower markets, sold and delivered his raft, I got into a coach 
 and took my first railroad ride to Cleveland, O., then on a 
 lake boat to Dunkirk, N. Y., then in a stage coach to James- 
 town, N. Y., and "footed it" across the line into the Keystone 
 State, 18 miles, to my home in Youngsville, Pa. Was not that 
 going around the bush some, if not more ? 
 
 I have mentioned the down-the-river people learning how 
 to land a raft with a long rope. Let me just mention the 
 beauties of this long rope business on the rafting trip just 
 described. After we landed this big Ohio raft, I took up my 
 abode in the raft shanty until the raft was sold. One nice 
 warm day during the first half of the month of May, I laid 
 my sleepy head on the straw pillow in the raft shanty and was 
 soon in the land of dreams. The river was very high, over 
 its banks in many places. My dreams came to an end very 
 suddenly when four Clarion timber rafts, owned by Mr. Ford, 
 of Ridgway, Pa., broke their cables and came down against my 
 raft with a crash that broke my cables and sent me down to- 
 wards Cincinnati. I was "monarch of all I surveyed," sailing 
 down into the heart of the city on a very large "Ohio fleet," 
 with no one to boss me and thousands of feet of square timber 
 floating after me. Now comes in this long rope business. When 
 the raft had made about two miles toward Porkopolis, I saw 
 two men jump into a skiff and row towards me. I first thought 
 that they intended to take me to shore. But I soon found that 
 they had a better object in view. They rowed vigorously until 
 they reached the side of my runaway raft. They then asked 
 me for the privilege of landing the raft. The reader may guess 
 that the privilege was instantly granted. They then, with my 
 help, lifted a coil of rope, 900 feet long, one and one-half 
 inches in diameter, and carried it onto the raft. Next one of 
 the men took hold of one end of the rope and got into the skiff 
 and the other rowed him to shore, and while the man with 
 the rope took a half-hitch around a big plum tree, the other 
 man rowed back to the raft and took a hitch on the raft snub- 
 bing post, and played out the 900 feet of rope, bringing the 
 big raft to shore, safe and sound. I felt like the passengers 
 
156 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 who offered prayers and thanked Marconi when the big vessel 
 went down recently, when the wireless telegraphy saved 1.650 
 lives. These two men will always have my best wishes. Their 
 act, the next day, when Mr. Mead called to pay them for the 
 job, proved them to be fair minded indeed: Their charge was 
 only $10. Mr. Mead expected to pay about $100, as their work 
 saved him over $1,000. If not for getting that raft landed 
 above Cincinnati, where it was sold, it would have gone below 
 the city, and would have been sold for a much less price than 
 it was already sold for at Cincinnati. Mr. Ford's timber went 
 on below the city and he afterwards informed me that he lost 
 $6,000 by the breaking of his ropes. His rafts were towed 
 ashore by tugboats after they had passed the city, where they 
 were sold. 
 
 This rafting was a peculiar business. One instance is worth 
 mentioning on this trip. On the Ohio river we ran night and 
 day. Not so on the Allegheny river. There were too many 
 islands and bars and crooks. It required daylight to navigate 
 it safely. Sometimes when the water was falling or when a 
 pilot failed to make a landing in a safe eddy he was obliged to 
 run all night and it was remarkable the small number of mis- 
 haps that did take place. When we take into consideration 
 the large number of rafts that passed Oil City every rise of the 
 water it fills one with wonder that so few rafts were wrecked. 
 Why, the old inhabitants of Oil City can recollect the time that 
 they could stand on the bank of the river all day and never be 
 out of sight of rafts either opposite or up or down the stream. 
 
 The description in the Derrick recently of the lights of Oil 
 City at night reminded me of the Pan-American show at Buf- 
 falo a few years ago. And it also reminded me of Oil City 
 many years ago. Then, instead of the glorious blaze of light 
 of the present, about all that could be seen in the way of illum- 
 ination was a tin lantern, with holes cut in the sides, and a 
 "tallow dip" standing in the bottom. There was but little 
 difference between those old fashioned lanterns and a common 
 sized lightning bug. Why, did you ever think that we are 
 2,000 years behind the times? The Bible tells us that in A. D. 
 70, Antioch had street lamps, water running in the streets and 
 into the houses. Once or twice Oil City has had water running 
 in the streets and into the houses, too, and Antioch was not 
 "in it" in regard to fire, but Oil City was "in it" to a sorrowful 
 
WEST VIRGINIA EXPERIENCES. 157 
 
 degree. Many of the older citizens and some younger ones will 
 agree with me in this. It is to be hoped that the fire fiend will 
 never again make such disastrous visits as it has done when that 
 beautiful city was first springing into its wonderful growth. 
 
 The Derrick recently spoke of John Haliday being a pioneer 
 in the ferry business in Oil City. My next door neighbor is 
 John Haliday's son, Thomas, and he is a "chip of the old 
 block," interested at present in the oil business between Oil City 
 and Pleasantville. 
 
 Speaking of Pleasantville, reminds me of a little lumber 
 transaction M^hen things were running wild. Very late in the 
 fall of that exciting year, when Plumer was the terminus of 
 the only railroad in sight of Oil City, I landed a raft of hem- 
 lock derrick lumber at Oleopolis, or at the mouth of Pithole 
 creek. I sold the raft to a New York City man who was 
 operating quite extensively in the rather prolific Plumer oil 
 territory. This man gave me $15 per thousand feet for this 
 lumber. He drew a part of it for his own use and sold part of 
 it to other parties for $60 per thousand feet, and nearly half 
 of it floated off down the river in the great flood of 1865. I 
 was the only man who did not lose on that raft, and taking out 
 the cost of one day's run, I made one-third on my investment. 
 I mention this to show the uncertainties of the lumber business, 
 as well as the oil business. And while talking of lumber, let 
 me make the remark that something like dreariness comes 
 over me when my mind wanders back to rafting times, when 
 water floated the lumber to market instead of steam pulling 
 it on wheels. The beautiful green pines have been cut down 
 and are gone, and nearly all the sturdy axe-men who cut the 
 trees have been overtaken by Old Time and cut down as ruth- 
 lessly as were the thrifty green trees. ,The places that knew 
 them both will know them no more forever. But in time the 
 ' places of trees will be filled with a new growth of flourishing 
 trees and the work of these pioneers — good men and true — 
 will live long after them. 
 
158 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVIII. 
 
 RAMBLING RECOLLECTIONS OF THE LAST FIFTY 
 YEARS IN THE OIL AND LUMBER COUNTRY. 
 
 (Published in the Oil and Gas Man's Mag-azine in 1909.) 
 
 I have been requested by my friend, C. R. Wattson, of 
 Butler, Pa., Secy-Trea,s. of the Oil Men's Association of 
 Western Pennslyvania, to write an article for this issue of the 
 "Oil and Gas Man's Magazine." I take up the task willingly 
 but hardly know where to begin. A flood of incidents lie calm- 
 ly on the surface of the sea of 50 years' memory. To cull the 
 best out of the lot is something of a task — ^but I have no mis- 
 givings about the interest the readers will take in it, if well 
 culled. To show the extent of the field of knowledge I will 
 say: I saw the old Drake Well, or first well, putting out its 
 second day's production. Strangers and residents of the then 
 litttle village of Titusville were standing around so thick that 
 to get near the great American wonder required both strength 
 and skill. 
 
 Every onlooker was surprised to see pure grease, covered 
 with white heavy froth, pouring so abundantly from sixty-nine 
 feet below the surface of mother earth. People from all around 
 the country farms and towns were equally astonished at na- 
 ture's new departure. Visitors were present from all the 
 great cities of the nation. New York, Chicago, Philadelphia 
 and Boston were well represented. They all were of the same 
 opinion relative as to how so much oil was to be utilized. Up 
 to that time the little that had been gathered along Oil Creek 
 by soaking it into blankets had been sold in the crude state as 
 a panacea for all the ills that poor human nature is heir to. 
 The query, therefore, with everybody was, what will be done 
 with this heavy production of oil ? No one thought of using 
 it as an illuminant. The question was left to be answered by 
 John D. Rockefeller and his coterie of intelligent and ener- 
 getic helpers. Just stop and think a moment, dear reader. 
 The man that was at the head of the greatest of the world's 
 discoveries, namely, petroleum and its by-products, is one of 
 the best abused men in this country. Little did Mr. Rockefeller 
 think when he was racking his young brain for the everlasting- 
 benefit of the oil business that he was bringing down on his 
 
RAMBLING RECOLLECTIONS. 159 
 
 devoted head more abuse than any other man ever carried in 
 these United States. I mean misplaced abuse. It was ever 
 thus for greatness and success to receive its reward by the his- 
 torical pen of future writers after the Tarbells and the like 
 have passed into oblivion, and there is no doubt Mr. Rockefeller 
 will get justice in the pages of history yet to be written. 
 
 But let me leave this Drake well in its present loneliness (it 
 has nothing to mark the spot at present, but thanks to the good 
 and enterprising ladies of the oil country, this will soon be 
 remedied) and take a look at the Williams well on the John 
 Watson farm, a mile north of the Drake well — here was the 
 pioneer spouter. It was my good fortune to see this well two 
 days after it was drilled in. The oil went skyward to a great 
 height and the first flowing well was doing business with great 
 energy. This well was planned and put down by Mr. D. M. 
 Williams, the then leading dry goods merchant of Warren, Pa. 
 
 Although Mr. Williams was the moving spirit in putting 
 down the first flowing oil well of the thousands that followed, 
 for some reason he vanished from the oil business and died with 
 "nary" a well. This Williams well, although the wonder of 
 the world, as regards gas, did not cause the commotion that the 
 Drake well did — for the reason that the Drake well uncovered 
 the fact that large deposits of heretofore unthought-of wealth 
 underlaid this country. The Williams well only demonstrated 
 the fact that said wealth could be boosted out of mother earth 
 by a hitherto unseen power, called natural gas. By direction 
 of Divine Providence, Titusville had the first pumping oil well 
 and also the first flowing oil well. The inhabitants of the 
 "Queen City" are justly proud of this. California, Illinois, 
 Oklahoma, Kansas, Texas, Mexico and Indian Territory must 
 take a back seat at the discovery business, as many slow moving 
 years passed after Titusville pointed the way before these now 
 prolific states knew that they were in it. 
 
 Shortly after the Williams well began to spout oil I did my 
 first and only work on an oil well. It was helping John 
 Duncan, of East Titusville, "kick" at a well on Pine creek. We 
 used a spring pole, and did not make a very long hole in a 
 day's "kicking." I left John at the end of six weeks, satisfied 
 to abandon the drilling business with a spring pole. Medical 
 authorities say the exercise of the lower limbs is healthful. I 
 did not quit because I disagreed with said medical authorities 
 
i6o OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 l)ut I thought I would rather take their word for it than to 
 prove it by prolonging my "kicking" job. Duncan filled my 
 place with another "kicker" and soon got a fair producer. 
 But even then it would have been hard to convince the average 
 settler on Pine creek, at that time, that the oil belt ran up the 
 creek as far as Grand Valley and beyond. It was left for the 
 years to prove that Pine creek was oil territory from the Drake 
 well to the Summit on the D., A. V. & P. railroad. As a mat- 
 ter of fact, the drill is the only way to test the location of 
 petroleum. 
 
 Among the many old-time lumbermen of this country was 
 John McKinney, uncle to John L. and J. C. McKinney, two of 
 Titusville's wealthy and leading citizens. His father, also 
 named John, was one of the first settlers of the Brokenstraw 
 valley. John McKinney, Sr., had a family of seven sons and 
 one daughter. The old gentleman had a good farm for each, 
 but his son John outdid all his brothers in adding to his fortune. 
 He was a fixture each early spring in the Pittsburg lumber 
 market. Mills were strung along the Brokenstraw creek, every 
 place that high banks were found, and many places where the 
 banks were not high enough, artificial banks were thrown up 
 to make a head race and tail race, as they were called. The 
 mills beginning at the mouth of the creek were owned by Dr. 
 William A. Irvine, William Freese, Judge William Siggins, 
 John Mead, John Garner, James McKinney, father of the 
 Titusville men mentioned above; A. H. Ludow & Co., Eben 
 Mead, Wm. White, John McKinney, (the first mentioned), 
 Robert Andrews, William Cotter, Daniel Horn, Dr. W. A. 
 Irvine, Daniel Donaldson, William Demming, E. Hyde, 
 Ogden Demming, John Walton, and here the creek crosses 
 the state line and I don't vknow the Yankees' names that owned 
 the mills on the creek over on the "York State" side. Those 
 water mills would run nearly the year around and in the 
 early spring when the melted snow raised the creek to a raft- 
 ing stage, the Brokenstraw creek would get a move on it. All 
 day long the board rafts were pulling out from the many 
 mills and crowding each other around the crooked bends of 
 the creek. Many times they would crush together and pile up, 
 completely blocking the navigation until the swift moving 
 water would force a passage through. The men that pulled 
 the oars and piloted the rafts were skilled in that work. A 
 
RAMBLING RECOLLECTION. i6i 
 
 large majority of them were born and reared about those saw- 
 mills and were real water ducks. They were right in their 
 element, when manipulating those raft oars. The writer 
 prided himself on his skill as a creek pilot and always got his 
 raft through to the down river markets without mishap. For 
 years upon years he enjoyed himself hugely floating rafts ou': 
 of Brokenstraw creek, and after the creek pieces were coupled 
 together into the Allegheny fleets bossing the men at the oars 
 from Irvineton to Cincinnati and still further down the Ohio. 
 This rafting business was only a part of the floating done on 
 the Allegheny river. The iron business came in for a share of 
 the trade of this country at that time. Iron furnaces were 
 numerous and the man that was not interested in pig iron in 
 some manner was considered a back number. Making pig 
 iron along the Allegheny river and running it to Pitttsburg in 
 flat boats was generally considered among the money making 
 pursuits of life. A man that had not a pig metal furnace of 
 a few tons capacity was looked upon as a man of not much 
 consecjuence from a business standpoint. Those old pioneers, 
 w^hile pecking away at this laborious business, had never an 
 idea that they were working above a sea of oil that would lay 
 in the shade their iron ore, and not only outstrip their business, 
 but bury it in everlasting forgetfulness. When a man gets 
 after oil and gas it is good bye to pig iron. ' And let me here 
 remark "where in this world will be found a more favored 
 set of men than the Western Pennsylvania farmers?" In 
 some single counties is found iron, coal, oil, gas, limestone, 
 salt, rich soil, good timber, in fact nearly everything that man- 
 kind needs in this vain world of ours. A farmer doesn't need 
 to go away from home to provide for his family, everything 
 is right on his farm. Where — oh, where can its equal be 
 found ? — echo answers, where ? No need of a young man tak- 
 ing Horace Greeley's oft quoted advice "to go west and grow 
 up with the country." Many a young man has grown up with 
 this oil country since good old Mr. Greeley gave his advice 
 and has nothing to regret at staying at home, and the end is 
 not yet. Human nature, however, is never satisfied. Mam^ 
 young men have gone west since the advent of the Drake well, 
 and some of them have come back to this country that flows 
 with milk and honey and some have grown up with the western 
 country in poverty ; of course, some have struck it rich, as they 
 
 II 
 
1 62 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 would probably have done in any other country. I said a 
 farmer had everything on his farm. I'll take it back — I have 
 not discovered or heard of gold, silver or diamonds being- 
 found on Western Pennsylvania farms, but would not be sur- 
 prised to see or hear of their discovery before I die. Perhaps 
 some, if not all, of these metals will, ere many years, bob up 
 in the face of these aforesaid farmers while peacefully harvest- 
 ing their buckwheat crops. The reader may think me too 
 optimistic, but listen, more strange things have happened to 
 the honest farmer in the striking of oil and gas than the dis- 
 covery of the last three wealth producers mentioned above. 
 
 As a stimulus to young men just starting out in life "on 
 their own hook" I wish to hold up an example in the person 
 of Hon. J. B. White, a former resident of Youngsville, but 
 now of Kansas City, Mo., and Bemus Point, N. Y., the latter 
 being his summer home. 
 
 Mr. White was born and reared in Watts Flats, Chautau- 
 qua county, N. Y. When but eighteen years of age he came 
 to Stillson Hill, five miles from Youngsville, and taught 
 school in that district one term. He then bought a pine timber 
 farm and took up his residence in Youngsville, which turned 
 out in years afterward to have been a good move for the 
 town. He commenced lumbering from his pine tract and the 
 business had a peculiar charm for him. After he had cut the 
 timber from his Stillson Hill farm he transferred his lumber 
 business to Tidioute. With the advent of Parkers Landing as 
 the center of oil operations. Mr. White began business at that 
 point. He prospered so well that the eagle eyes of the million- 
 aire Grandins alighted on him and prevailed upon him to go 
 to Missouri and buy yellow pine timber, by the tens of thous- 
 ands of acres. The Grandins and the late lamented Hunters, 
 and Capt. H. H. Cumings paid White a liberal salary and 
 gave him a sixth interest in the business for his services. 
 White was as full of energy as an tgg is full of meat and he 
 proved to be the very man to carry the deal to a successful 
 issue. After making piles of money for the company and 
 finding himself owner of fourteen lumber yards in as many 
 states and owner of vast amounts of long leaf yellow pine in 
 Louisiana and other southern states, and a fine Chautauqua 
 Lake property with unlimited means, Mr. White did not lie 
 down "on flowery beds of ease" while doing this work, but 
 
RAMBLING RECOLLECTIONS. 163 
 
 while attending to the superabundance of work in building and 
 putting in order a very large lumber town (Grandin, Mo.), he 
 traveled over all the southern states adding to the holdings 
 of the company in the way of the best long leaf yellow pine 
 found anywhere in the south. The lucky part of this whole 
 business is that this immensely valuable timber was bought 
 before the wonderful upward jump in the price of lumber. 
 Another most favorable point is that at the rate the lumber 
 of this country is being cut there will be no decrease in price 
 no matter what the tariff tinkers do in the matter of rates. 
 
 The benefit resulting from the young school master from 
 Stillson Hill selecting Youngsville as his home at the close of 
 the first school will now appear. After Mr. White became 
 a citizen of Kansas City his oldest son, John Franklin White, 
 M. D., received his diploma and became a prominent physician. 
 He accidentally shot himself, dying within three weeks. Be- 
 fore his death his father promised that he would build a 
 memorial high school building to his memory in Youngsville. 
 This promise was made good last year, the school board re- 
 ceiving from Mr. White's hands a $25,000 building. The 
 building has all the latest conveniences that go to make up a 
 first-class building of this character. It stands between an- 
 other memorial building, erected by the estate of the late 
 J. T. Currie, and the old four-story high school building. The 
 Currie building, is an industrial school. It is supplied with all 
 kinds of tools, suitable for learning the different trades to 
 boys and girls. 
 
 Mr. White is a strong believer in educating the fingers as 
 well as the mind, and years ago induced Mr. Currie to leave 
 money at his death to perpetuate his memory in this manner. 
 Mr. White is, therefore, credited with two of Youngsville's 
 fine educational buildings. Mr. White says, "as I have a 
 father, mother, two sons and wife buried in the beautiful I. O. 
 O. F. cemetery in Youngsville, it is only natural when I quit 
 active business I will move to Youngsville and spend my de- 
 clining years there." Mr. White has a warm side towards 
 Warren county, as it sent him to Harrisburg to help make the 
 laws for the great state of Pennsylvania when he was a mere 
 boy. He is not the man to forget past favors even if many 
 years have intervened. 
 
1 64 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 Our postmaster, Clyde Wright, says his father put down 
 an oil well at Tidioute 41 years ago that is at the present day 
 producing a half barrel of oil a day. We have a well in Youngs- 
 ville that was drilled by A. McKinney and John Black 22 
 years ago and is now flowing a half barrel a day. So the 
 operators of the present time may not feel discouraged if they 
 don't strike gushers every time. Small wells will produce 
 longer than larger ones. At the rate some wells start off Lake 
 Erie could not supply them forever and forever. Besides a 
 little slow well will run on for years and years, until petro- 
 leum g-ets scarce and rises in price. My good friends and 
 operators, don't get in a hurry — take it cool. The oil business 
 will not down. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX. 
 
 INTERESTING LETTERS TO THE AUTHOR. 
 
 When I wrote the preceding chapter of "Old Times in Oil- 
 dom" I thought I had finished. But since the publication of 
 the first of the articles in the "Derrick" I have received many 
 letters from the readers of that paper, a few of which I would 
 like to have printed. One is from a brother of the late 
 Charles Dinsmoor, Esq., of Warren, and who is now an expert 
 botanist, of St. Marys, W. Va. The letter explains itself. 
 It does more than explain itself. It gives a little insight into 
 the size of my feet that might otherwise have remained a 
 secret, so far as those who never saw me are concerned : 
 
 St. Marys, W. Va., June 29, 1909. 
 
 Hon. G. W. Brown, Youngsville, Pa. 
 
 Dear Sir : — Your "Old Times in Oildom," now running in 
 the Oil City Semi- Weekly Derrick, is most intensely interest- 
 ing to me. It is barely possible that you can remember me. 
 I was "head" sawyer at Tiona and cut lots of tank plank for 
 you along about 1871, '72 and '73, and remember you quite 
 distinctly. You frequently gave me directions of the kind 
 you wanted. You were then quite grey, somewhat stooping 
 and had feet nearly as large or larger than President Lin- 
 
LETTERS TO THE AUTHOR. 165 
 
 coin's. One instance I can recall. You were standing near 
 the ''edger" in a slightly dangerous place. I motioned to a 
 young fellow of Irish extraction, directing him to have you 
 stand in another place, as you might get injured. He replied, 
 "Be jabbers, he is long enough for this world," meaning that 
 you were very "tall timber," as we domoinated six-footers 
 I regret not having had the pleasure of "hoeing it down" 
 after your "scraping" the "fiddle" and keeping time with 
 your No. los. 
 
 Many pleasures have come my way in the last half hundred 
 years ; none that surpassed the old-time dances of the mill and 
 woods men and women of "Old Lang Syne." As you recalled^ 
 the names of leading lumbermen of Warren county, a sweet, 
 sad remembrance stole over me that I can scarcely shake off 
 3^et. I was personally acquainted with nearly every one of 
 them. Guess I did my share in tearing up the noble wilder- 
 ness that once covered so much of Warren county; perhaps 
 sawed as many logs as any young man of that period ; every 
 piece that went into Pleasant bridge at Warren in 'yz ; also 
 the timber in Dunkirk, Warren & Pittsburg railroad ; hundreds 
 of walking beams ; also stuff that went as far as Boston. 
 Came near being a resident of Youngsville, with L. B. Wood, 
 but commenced to roam ; have since spent 20 years in the west ; 
 have taken the Derrick for 25 years at least; have had, and 
 still have splendid health ; am on "Easy street ;" have fine 
 children. Was born on the very summit of Quaker hill, 
 1 ,900 feet above the Allegheny river ; was the youngest of 1 5 
 children — one only settled in Warren, Charles Dinsmoor, all 
 having crossed over except three. Am now living one and a 
 quarter miles from the Ohio river, 550 feet above the same. 
 On my next visit to Warren county will make it a point to 
 see Youngsville and the "15 miles of sidewalk." Should you 
 come down in Ohio be sure to stop at St. Marys. You will 
 have no trouble in finding Dinsmoors in plenty. 
 
 Sincerely younrs, 
 
 G. W. Dinsmoor. 
 
1 66 OLD. TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 Another letter from the secretary and treasurer of the Oil 
 Men's Association of Western Pennsylvania is as follows : 
 
 Butler, Pa., April i6, 1909. 
 
 Mr. G. W. Brown, 
 
 Youngsville, Pa. 
 Dear Sir : — I have been reading your reminiscences in the 
 "Derrick" with interest. These old stories bring up memories 
 of the past and are worthy of being preserved. 
 
 The Oil Men's Association meets this year at Conneaut 
 Lake, August 5th, and would be glad to entertain you there 
 for a couple of days. 
 
 I don't know whether you recall me or not, but I remember 
 meeting you here several years ago, and like yourself, I have 
 been on the Derrick staff for a decade or more, 
 I remain, with best wishes. 
 
 Yours respectfully, 
 
 C. R. Wattson. 
 The Oil Men's Association of Western Pennsylvania. 
 
 Another letter is as follows : 
 
 Butler, Pa., May 8, 1909. 
 
 Hon. G. W. Brown, 
 
 Youngsville, Pa. 
 Dear Sir : — It is these reminiscences that the oil people like 
 to go over again. 
 
 Will you kindly send me a photo of yourself? Thanking 
 you for your kindness in this matter and with best wishes, I am, 
 
 Sincerely yours, 
 
 C. R. Wattson. 
 
 National Transit Company, United Pipe Lines Division. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 
 GENERAL CHARLES MILLER. 
 
 167 
 
 4^ 
 This portrait represents ^ 
 
 a gentleman from Frank- ', ' 
 
 lin, Pa., who is a power 
 unto himself and all that 
 he comes in contact with. 
 It is beyond the power 
 of my pen to describe 
 him — a book the size 
 of this would not be 
 large enough to do him 
 justice. There is but one 
 Gen. Charles Miller. He 
 is a gentleman of so many 
 parts that it is impossible 
 to describe all, and it seems unfair to leave off any, when all 
 are equally interesting. It is a real puzzle to the writer and 
 everbody else how an)^ man can handle the vast amount of 
 fiancial business, social matters, church matters, military mat- 
 ters and other matters relating to a busy life, and act in each 
 capacity as if he has nothing else on his mind. For instance, 
 how does the General find time with his multiplicity of busi- 
 ness of many kinds on hand, to commit to memory every 
 hymn in his Sunday school singing book? The writer of this 
 has had the extreme pleasure of atteding his unequalled Sun- 
 day School many times, and never saw him look at his book 
 while leading his thousand singers. If a stranger attends 
 Sunday School at the First Baptist church, Franklin, Pa., at 
 3 :oo p. m., any Sunday, when the General is not out of town 
 (and the strang-ers names are legion that embrace the op- 
 portunity of seeing and hearing the General in his role of 
 Sunday School superintendent) he would be led to think that 
 the General had been occupied all the past week in preparing 
 the program and had no business matters on his mind. His 
 immense oil business, railroad business, manufacturing estab- 
 lishments and military business must be merely playthings to 
 him, as it seem to be enough to fill any man's head to do the 
 church work that Mr. Miller does with the expenditure of 
 about $600,000 on one church in the beautiful little city of 
 
i68 
 
 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 Franklin, Pa., alone, not to mention his open hand to all calls 
 from numerous other churches. When General Miller pre- 
 sents himself for admission at St. Peter's gate, the keeper of 
 the gate will not be obliged to count pennies to ascertain 
 whether he has won a seat in Heavenly mansions by a close 
 financial shave. "God loves a cheerful giver," and if any 
 man or woman can take comfort in this Bible promise in this 
 part of God's universe, it is General Charles Miller of Frank- 
 lin, Pa. 
 
 1 
 
 HON. O. C. ALLEN. 
 
 r- 
 
 This portrait shows the 
 face of one of the lead- 
 ing lights in the legal 
 line in Warren county. 
 
 Mr. Allen was born on 
 a backwoods . farm in 
 Pinegrove township War- 
 ren county, Pa. He was 
 a good farmer boy, but 
 early imbibed a desire for 
 a knowledge of the law. 
 He belonged to a law lov- 
 ing family, Samuel, Har- 
 rison, George, brothers, 
 all were admitted to the Warren bar (the first two named have 
 long since passed over the divide where God's law is supreme, 
 and where no legal discussions arise). George went toward 
 the setting sun many years ago, and has honored the judicial 
 bench of some western town, by his being chosen to decide 
 question of law for his newly made neighbors. Of the quartette 
 of Allen lawyers, only ex-state senator Hon. O. C. Allen, 
 pleads at the Warren county bar, and let me say right here 
 that his natural eloquence is not excelled in this neck- o'- 
 woods." Senator Allen has a large and growing clientage, 
 and as Warren does not lack for "limbs of the law" the 
 senator does well to stay at the head of the flock. As I have 
 said before in this book, Warren has furnished more good 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 169 
 
 judicial timber than any town of its size in Western Pennsyl- 
 vania, and has held its own up to the present time. Senator 
 Allen has held man}^ important officers, borough, county and 
 state, and one of the most important which he has held for 
 many years is a trustee of the North Warren Insane Asylum, 
 where his good judgment has been a boon to the management 
 and inmates. 
 
 
 JOHN L. McKINNEY. 
 
 The cut here is the 
 shadow of one of the best 
 business managers in the 
 oil country, beginning to 
 operate in oil in the earl- 
 iest stages, when the 
 spring pole done duty m 
 the drilling line. He was 
 one of the "A B C" scho- 
 lars. He commenced b}'^ 
 putting a few hunred dol- 
 lars in a well and follow- 
 ing said few hundred dol- 
 lars with faithful and 
 m u s c u 1 ar "kicking" — 
 
 kicking at a springs pole was the only power used in reaching the 
 greasy fluid when John, in his teens, commenced the oil busi- 
 ness, and being a boy "man grown," both his muscle and dis- 
 position went in harmony towards a good solid day's work. He 
 met with losses at first that would discourage any but the earn- 
 est, in an unknown business. When he commenced to lay the 
 foundation for his fabulous fortune, he met with many discour- 
 ing circumstances. The fortune did not push itself upon him, 
 it required an indomitable will on his part to climb to the finan- 
 cial heights to which he has attained. He comes from solid 
 stock. In 1792 John McKinney, (John L.'s grandfather) came 
 from Belfast, Ireland, and settled at Philadelphia, Pa., then 
 came to Irvineton with a party of surveyors, pre-empted the 
 broad, wild river flats there. Then learned that Gen. John W. 
 Irvine held a claim ahead of him. He then relinquished his 
 
lyo OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 claim on the banks of the Allegheny river, and came to Youngs- 
 ville and got a claim on nearly all the land in sight. Mr. Mc- 
 Kinney then returned to Reading, Pa., and married Miss Re- 
 becka Arthur, and brought her into the wilderness. Shortly 
 after the couple were settled in their log cabin, a Scotchman 
 came and boarded with them, named Matthew Young. He 
 soon made himself so useful in the embryo town, that Mr. Mc~ 
 Kinney consented to the town being named Youngsville instead 
 of McKinneyville. Eight sons and one daughter was born to 
 Mr. McKinney and his wife. The eight sons and one daughter 
 are all dead. Two of the sons never married. Four sons and 
 the daughter have each but one living representative, at present. 
 Two sons, Arthur and James, have fair sized families (the lat- 
 ter named, James, being the father of the well known oil men, 
 John L. and J. C. McKinney, of Titusville). The two named 
 in brackets, have very recently (a couple of months ago) placed 
 an eight ton monument on the cemetery lot containing the re- 
 mains of their grandparents, named above, in Odd Fellow's 
 cemetery Youngsville. The monument is of Barre granite 
 and of beautiful design. The good man, Mr. McKinney, sent 
 money to Ireland and brought his two brothers to this country 
 and presented each one with a farm and sawmill. He also 
 presented a farm to each of his eight sons, and to his only 
 daughter. The reader of this can see from this statement 
 that the McKinneys have done their share of business in the 
 commercial world and made a wilderness "blossom as the rose."' 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 171 
 
 HON. CHAS. W. STONE. 
 
 Hon. Charles W. Stone, 
 M. C, four terms, was in 
 reality the second best 
 member of the United 
 States congress. When 
 "Tom" Reed was speaker 
 of the house and was 
 obliged to vacate the chair 
 Mr. Stone was his choice 
 as his substitute, and had 
 the high honor of filling 
 Mr. Reed's place a week 
 at a time. This is some- 
 thing for the wildcat dis- 
 trict to be proud of. Mr. Stone has the qualfications of a first- 
 class business man, in addition to his high statesmanship. Dur- 
 ing the last six months he has made two trips to Mexico, and 
 has purchased immense tracts of timber lands which is an 
 investment not loaded down with uncertainties. 
 
 Lawyer, ex-congressman; born in 1843; among his an- 
 cestors there were revolutionary blue-coats, intermarried with 
 the families of Prescott and Greene. He was educated at Law- 
 rence Academy and Williams College, earning his way by 
 teaching and other work, graduating with honor. He accepted 
 a position as principal of the Union school at Warren, was 
 elected county superintendent of schools in 1865, and later in 
 the same year was chosen principal of the academy at Erie. He 
 took up the study of law, was admitted to practice in the courts 
 of Warren county in 1866, and entered into partnership with 
 Judge Rasselas Brown ; served three years in the borough 
 council, nine years on the board of school directors, and the last 
 three years as its president. In 1869 he was elected to the 
 legislature from the counties of Warren and Venango, and 
 was re-elected without opposition. In 1876 he was state sen- 
 ator, and served as chairman of the General Judiciary Com- 
 mittee, and in 1878 he was elected lieutenant governor. Mr. 
 Stone was one of the three commissioners in 1883 who located 
 the United States public building at Erie, and later was a repre- 
 sentative of Pennsylvania at the Inter-state Extradition Con- 
 
172 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. , 
 
 ference, called by the governors of the several states ; sub- 
 sequently he was a delegate from Pennsylvania to the Prison 
 Congress, over which ex-president Hays presided. In 1877 he 
 was appointed by Governor Beaver to be Secretary of the 
 Commonwealth, and served until his election to congress from 
 the twenty-seventh district in 1890; and he was four times 
 re-elected by large majorities. During two of the terms of his 
 service in congress he was the efficient chairman of the commit- 
 tee on coinage, weights and measures. In 1890 he was a 
 candidate before the Republican convention for the nomination 
 for governor and received one hundred and sixty-five votes, 
 one hundred and eighty-three being necessary to nominate. 
 Address : Warren, Pennslyvania. 
 
 HON. W. M. LINDSEY. 
 
 This photo shows the 
 face of another of the 
 self-made men of Warren 
 county. He was born and 
 raised on a farm, like the 
 majority of the legal 
 lights of Warren, but left 
 agricultural pursuits and 
 studied law and joined is- 
 sue with that strong- 
 minded lawyer, Hon. S. 
 P. Johnson, and for 
 many years worked m 
 harness with Mr. Johnson 
 and when the latter nam- 
 ed died, was chosen to fill the chiar recently vacated after a ten 
 years service by his long-time partner. The Hon. W. M. Lind- 
 say has just finished his ten year service as president judge of 
 this district and leaves without a blemish on the judical ermine. 
 Although entirely competent to fill any office in the gift of the 
 people, Mr. Lindsey has refused to mix in politics very deep, 
 preferring to give his rich talents undividedly to the laws of his 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES 
 
 173 
 
 country. The ex- judge is comparatively a young man yet, 
 and no doubt he will be one of our law-makers before he quits 
 this mundane sphere. He is fitted for a politician in many 
 respects, the one best respect is geniality. It is his nature 
 to be social, the best hold of a politician. 
 
 C. N. PAYNE. 
 
 The man whose photo- 
 graph is seen here is one 
 of the many self-made 
 men of the oil region. He 
 pitched into the oil busi- 
 ness when a boy and took 
 hold of it just as though 
 he had served an appren- 
 ticeship at the business. 
 At the time of his leaving 
 his father's farm, the oil 
 business was an untried 
 proposition. There were 
 no precedents to follow 
 and nobody had learned 
 the business for the reason that it had never been a business. 
 It had to be worked up to a point where it could be called a 
 business. Nobody could impart knowledge to anybody else. 
 All men stood on an equality, each could guess as close as the 
 other, but all were not good guessers. C. N. Payne was one 
 of the "cut and try" good guessers, he had a way of his 
 own and his way was crowned with success from the begin- 
 ning. Much pluck, good sense and good management put him 
 to the front and he is now one of the valuable advisors of the 
 greatest business aggregation in the world today. Mr. Payne 
 owns three automobiles and his son-in-law owns one, four 
 housed in the same garage. His dwelling house in Titusville, 
 shows signs of opulence on the part of its owner that are un- 
 mistakable. His high standing in the oleaginous world has 
 not unhinged "Cal's" mind in the direction of geniality. He 
 don't let his immense business spoil him socially. He can 
 make an old acquaintance feel as much at home in conversa- 
 tion as before he climed the oily ladder. 
 
174 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 HON. FRANK M. KNAPP. 
 
 Frank M. Knapp, of 
 Warren, Pa., was born in 
 the township of Farming- 
 ton, Warren county, Pa., 
 June 29, 185 1. His early 
 hfe was spent on his 
 father's farm, where dur- 
 ing the summer, he did 
 such work as is required 
 of those engaged in this 
 ^ occupation, and during 
 
 the winter months he at- 
 tended the district school. 
 At the age of 18 and for 
 several years thereafter he 
 followed the occupation of a "school teacher" during the win- 
 ter and attended the Jamestown Collegiate Institute and the 
 Edinboro State Normal during the fall months. In 1873 he 
 entered the law office of Johnson & Lindsey as a student and in 
 1875 was admitted to the Warren county bar. He followed 
 the law profession until 1880, when his Republican friends 
 elected him county treasurer. At the expiration of his term 
 in 1883 h^ entered actively general manufacturing, production 
 of oil and gas and general business. From 1898 to 1904 he 
 held the office of prothonotary and clerk of courts of Warren 
 county. He was twice elected chairman of the Republican 
 party of his county. 
 
 At the present time Mr. Knapp is the president of the 
 Jacobson Machine Manufacturing Co., the treasurer and vice 
 president of the Warren Table Works, the secretary of the 
 Allegheny Foundry Co., and secretary and treasurer of sev- 
 eral large carbon companies operating in West Virginia. 
 He is a member of the First M. E. church of Warren, Pa. 
 In politics he has always been a true and loyal supporter of 
 the principles of the Republican party. His first presidential 
 vote was cast for General Grant and his last for William H. 
 Taft. 
 
 Mr. Knapp in addition to his law business takes a hand in 
 the business of building up the city of Warren. He is pres- 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 175 
 
 ident of the Glade Oil Refinery, treasurer of the Jacobson 
 manufactory, half owner of the latest big brick block built in 
 Warren, on a corner near the New Struthers hotel, and lives 
 in and owns a dwelling house that shows opulence on the part 
 of the owner. Taken all in all he is a good man for the up- 
 
 building of his home town. 
 
 CAPT. H. H. CUMINGS. 
 
 Captain H. H. Cum- 
 ings was born in Mon- 
 mouth, Illinois, but spent 
 his youth and early man- 
 hood in Madison, Ohio. 
 He graduated in 1862 
 from Oberlin college and 
 immediately entered the 
 Union army — served un- ,' ^ 
 til the end of the war — / » 
 was captain of the 105th 
 Ohio Volunteer Infantry. 
 In September 1865 he 
 came to the Pennsylvania 
 
 oil regions, and was located in June 1866 at Tidioute, Pa., en- 
 gaged in buying and shipping crude oil and operating an oil 
 refinery, as a member of Day & Co. Late in the year 1873 
 he formed a partnership with Jahu Hunter, of Tidioute, in 
 operating for oil the fourth sand or "cross belt" in Butler 
 and Armstrong counties, Pennsylvania, successfully for many 
 years, and is still owning oil wells in these counties, also in 
 the Bradford district and recently in Oklahoma, since 1880 
 to the present time. He is considerably interested in lumber- 
 ing in Missouri and for the past few years in Louisiana. At 
 one time he was interested in lands in the Red River Valley 
 in North Dakota. The captain represented the Warren and 
 Venango districts in the senate of Pennsylvania for eight 
 years, 1899 to 1906. 
 
176 
 
 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 Such men as Captain Cumings are an honor to Warren 
 county and the state of Pennsylvania, as a helper in making- 
 laws for the Keystone State he has no superiors and but few 
 equals. Oh, for more Cumings as law makers for the great 
 state of Pennsylvania and the nation. 
 
 HON. T. C. McKINNEY. 
 
 This portrait is a 
 good reminder of a for- 
 mer mayor of Titusville, 
 and one of the upbuilders 
 of the Queen City. He 
 was born near Youngs- 
 ville, before oil was dis- 
 covered in this country. 
 He was a faithful helper 
 to his father, James Mc- 
 ivinney, who owned and 
 run a sawmill a couple of 
 miles up the Brokenstraw 
 creek, above the town of 
 Youngsville. The rich soil of the Brokenstraw valley was 
 drawn upon in the summer time to bolster up the lumber busi- 
 ness in the winter time. The mill was always run when the 
 water was at a good stage, or not frozen to thick ice. 
 
 The ancestral history of Hon. J. C. McKinney, will be 
 found in the souvenir number of the evening Titusville 
 Courier, for 1906, and also in the biography of an older 
 brother, Hon. John L. McKinney, in the "History of Petro- 
 leum," written by J. T. Henry, in 1873. 
 
 Hon. J. C. McKinney, like his brother, John L., pitched 
 into the oil business on his own account when but a boy, and 
 prosecuted the work with wisdom and vigor for five years, 
 being unusually successful in several fields. He then went 
 into partnership with his brother, John L., and has remained 
 a partner ud to the present, about 39 years. It is doubtful 
 if a like history can be found in the archives of oil country 
 historv. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 
 HON. R. E. DICKINSON. 
 
 177 
 
 He whose picture 
 adorns this page of "Old 
 Times in Oildom" is the 
 present mayor of Titus- 
 ville, the city and birth- 
 place of Seneca oil. He 
 also enjoys the distinction 
 of acting as confidential 
 secretary to the million- 
 aire, Hon. John L. Mc- 
 Kinney, for the last 15 
 3^ears. As a sign of good 
 standing in his adopted 
 home he was elected as a 
 
 Democrat mayor in a city which is largely Republican. The 
 Hon. Mr. Dickinson is the youngest mayor that ever occupied 
 the executive chair in Titusville. He was elected in February, 
 1908. He is qualified for any position that the far famed 
 city of Titusville ma}^ put upon him. He is the son of Au- 
 gustus Warren and Clara Olney Dickinson. Born in Butler 
 county. Pa., July 30th, 1877. Was graduated from Titus- 
 ville high school in 1895, ^I'^d then secured a position with the 
 South Penn Oil Company and has been associated with Hon. 
 John L. McKinney and Hon. J. C. McKinney, vice president 
 and general manager, respectively, of said company, ever since. 
 
 Mr. Dickinson was married April 17, 1901, to Miss Mary 
 Theobold, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Peter Theobold, who 
 was a pioneer in the oil refining business, being president of 
 the Independent Refining Company, of Oil City, Pa. Hon. 
 R. E. Dickinson is in the prime of life and no doubt but his 
 past success will cling to him for many, many years to come. 
 His host of friends all hope so and he will not be likely to dis- 
 appoint them. 
 
 12 
 
178 
 
 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 A. J. HAZELTINE. 
 
 This portrait represents 
 one of the best bankers in 
 the state of Pennsylvania. 
 Below will be found a 
 brief history of his rise to 
 a self-made man. 
 
 Born .on the Hazeltine 
 homestead in Chautauqua, 
 county, New York, in 
 1847 • Educated in the 
 common schools. Began 
 business life in a countrj' 
 store and was partner in 
 business at the age of 18. 
 Was deputy clerk of the 
 board of supervisors of Chautaucjua county in 1869, but came 
 to Warren, November 10, 1869, as bookkeeper for the Piso 
 Company. Was chosen bookkeeper of the First National 
 Bank, in March, 1870, and teller of the same bank in Septem- 
 ber, 1870. He was elected cashier of the Warren Savings 
 bank February i, 1872, president of the same on the death of 
 the former president. Col. Watson, in November, 1889. Is 
 still president of the bank. Has been on the United States 
 Assay commission, treasurer of Pennsylvania Bankers Associa- 
 tion and on legislative committee of the association which 
 drafts the new law as to reserve of state banks. 
 
 His son, Dr. Harold Dexter Hazeltine, is now professor 
 in English law at Cambridge University, England. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 179 
 
 HON. J. B. WHITE. 
 
 The picture that this 
 represents is famihar in 
 more than half the States 
 that make up this most 
 glorious country, Hon. J. 
 B. White is the best 
 known and the most pop- 
 ular lumber dealer in the 
 United States. He was 
 born in Chautauqua coun- 
 ty, N. Y., December 8th, 
 1847, son of John and 
 Rebekah Barber White. 
 He received a public 
 school and academy ed- 
 ucation in the Empire State; taught school in Warren county. 
 Pa., two winters, and one winter in Chautauqua county, N. 
 Y., and when yet in his teens, crossed over the line into Penn- 
 sylvania and began the lumber business, which has increased 
 with gaint strides, until he today is one of the best known men 
 in the business, owning a majority of the capital stock in 
 seventeen lumber yards in different states. He has interests 
 in over five hundred thousand acres of timber lands mostly 
 in the Louisiana yellnw pine region. 
 
 He married Miss Arabell Bowen, of Chautauqua county. 
 N. Y., in 1874 (now deceased), and his second marriage was 
 with Miss Emma Siggins, of Youngsville, Pa., December 6th, 
 1882. He taught school winters 1866-9. He was engaged in 
 lumber manufacturing at Youngsville, Pa., and East Brad]/ 
 Pa., as a member of the firm of White and Kinnear until 
 1874. He was a founder of the Warren County News 
 (weekly) in 1874, and later sole proprietor. He was a mem- 
 ber of the committee of seven elected by the Pennsylvania legis- 
 lature in 1879 to prosecute bribery cases. He was president of 
 the board of education, Youngsville, 1877-9, 1880-3. 
 
 Mr. White moved to Missouri in 1879. He is president of 
 the Missouri Lumber & Mining Company, Louisiana Central 
 Lumber Company, Eorest Lumber Company, Reynolds Land 
 Company, Salem, Winona & Southern Railroad Company, 
 
i8o OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 Ouachita & Northwestern Raih'oad Company, vice president 
 of the Grandin-Coast Lumber Company (Kansas City and 
 Seattle), director and secretary of the Louisiana Long Leaf 
 Lumber Company; secretary, treasurer and general manager 
 of the Missouri Lumber & Land Exchange Company; director 
 of the New England National Bank (Kansas City) ; president 
 of Bank of Poplar Bluff 1886- 1907; member Pennsylvania 
 House of R.epresentatives 1878-1879; postmaster Gradin, Mis- 
 souri, 1 887- 1 892; appointed by President Roosevelt Novem- 
 ber, 1905 as his personal representative to investigate affairs 
 on Cass Lake, Minn., Indian reservation, as to whether the 
 reservation should be opened up in part for settlement; ap- 
 pointed by President Roosevelt in 1907 as member of Forestry 
 Commisison ; appointed by Governor of Missouri in 1909 as 
 member of the State Forestry board; delegate to the first 
 National Conservation Congress, Seattle, Wash., 1909; dele- 
 gate to Southern Conservation Congress, New Orleans, 1909; 
 member of executive committtee of National Conservation 
 Association ; chairman of executive committee of National 
 Conservation Congress since its organization. He organized 
 the first lumber manufacturers' association in the Southern 
 States in 1882, called the Yellow Pine Manufacturers' As- 
 sociation, and was its first president, serving for three years ; 
 director Y. P. M. A. ; member of board of governors Na- 
 tional Lumber Manufacturers' Association; deputy governor 
 general Missouri Society Colonial Wars; fourth vice president 
 of the Missouri Society of the Sons of the Revolution ; life 
 member of the American Academy of Political and Social 
 Science; member of National Geographic Society; life mem- 
 ber of Holestein-Friesian Association of America; life mem- 
 ber of the New England Historical and Genealogical Society ; 
 life member and vice president of Historical Society of Heath. 
 Mass. ; member of Virginia Historical Society, vice president 
 for Missouri of Ohio Historical Society; member of Kansas 
 City, Mo., Historical Society; member of Missouri Historical 
 Society; member of Harleian Society of London, England. 
 Trustee of Kidder Institute, Mo., (Congregational school) ; 
 member of Commercial Club of Kansas City ; member of Mid- 
 day Club of Kansas City; 32nd degree Mason. 
 
 Has published four volumes of the genealogy of John 
 White, of Wenham, Mass. ; also the Barber and Gleason gen- 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. i8i 
 
 ealogies; author of ten pamphlets on "Conservation of Na- 
 tural Resources." Chairman of the conservation committee 
 of the National Lumber Manufacturers' Association and chair- 
 man of the conservation committee of the Yellow Pine Manu- 
 facturers' Association. He is a member of the Missouri State 
 Board of Education of the Congregational Church; vice presi- 
 dent of the Fisher Flouring Mills Company ; vice president of 
 llie Fisher-White-Henry Company; vice president of the 
 White-Dulany Grain Company, the last three of 
 Seattle. The reader will, no doubt, think that Mr. 
 White has reason to be troubled with a disease commonly 
 named "big head." But he is far from that. He is the same 
 socially inclined individual that he was when he taught school 
 at Sugar Grove and Stillsons Hill, Pa. He has a good reason 
 for being pleased with his record. A few days ago we read in 
 the newspapers of the country of his being one of a quartet 
 of speakers at Kansas City, Mo., composed of President Taft, 
 the governor of Missouri, and a member of the Conservation 
 Committee. 
 
 CYRUS A CORNEN 
 
 The writer of this 
 sketch was born in the 
 city of New York, No- 
 vember 3, 1844. At the 
 age of ten years my par- 
 ents moved to Ridgefield, 
 Connecticut, where I at- 
 tended select school until 
 seventeen years of age, at 
 which time I taught a 
 district school, the school 
 house being located on *^^P 
 
 one of the many Con- 
 necticut mountains, the 
 district being known as 
 
 the "vast mountain." One term of school teaching was 
 sufficient for me. Upon Good Friday, 1862, my father and 
 uncle, W. H. Beers and myself left Ridgefield for at that time 
 the far west. Oil City, Pa. We left New York the same 
 day via the broad gauge railroad, the Atlantic & Great 
 
1 82 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 Western, arriving in Corry, Pa., the next day. When we 
 changed cars for Garland, the nearest raih'oad point to Oil 
 City. We staid over Sunday in Garland with Landlord Stout 
 and on Monday morning-, with Charlie Johnson, as commonly 
 known, the regular stage driver between Garland and Oil 
 City, a distance of some twenty-eight miles, we made a start 
 on our overland route. After turning over twice that day, 
 spilling out trunks, seat cushions and all, we got as far as 
 Enterprise, where we stopped for the night. 
 
 The next morning, Tuesday, we started for Oil City, after 
 crossing what was and is known as Cherry run some ten times, 
 we arrived at Rouseville, where we concluded to leave the 
 stage and make it our headquarters to investigate for future 
 headquarters. After a few days investigation we rented for 
 $5.00 a month from one Mr. Wilhelm, a small portion of a 
 building he had built for a store at McClintockville. We 
 went to work at once putting in bunks for beds, having 
 brought bed ticks and bedding from home, made a table, 
 stools for chairs, etc., where we lived two and a half years, 
 and let me say I never enjoyed two and a half years of bet- 
 ter health in my life. I embarked in the butcher business at 
 this time. Soon finding out that I did not have the facilities 
 to carry on the butcher business I did not follow it but a 
 short time. My father, I. Beers and myself under the firm 
 name of Cornen & Beers, went directly into the buying and 
 shipping of oil to the Pittsburg market ; the dry season came 
 on and Cornen & Beers had a flat bottom boat at what was 
 known as the Breedtown well on the upper end of the Story 
 farm. Oil was selling at this time from ten to fifteen cents a 
 barrel. Either the land owner or well owner I have forgot- 
 ten which, dug out of the clay a large hole in the ground near 
 the creek, (Oil creek) planked it, puddled it, etc., but the 
 scheme was a failure and the oil oozed through the clay and 
 found its way into the creek ; this came to my notice by seeing 
 the oil going to waste on the surface of the creek. I spoke to 
 my father about it ; he gave me th® use of the boat I have 
 referred to, I rigged a boom out into the creek ; took a com- 
 mon pail and with a stone sunk it to the surface of the water; 
 as the oil came into the boom it found its way into the pail. 
 With a long tin pump I would stand in the bow of the boat 
 and pump the oil out of the pail into the boat. I was not long 
 
 Hi 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 183 
 
 in the filling the boat and I sold considerable. That was 
 hauled to Union, Pa., a station on the P. & E. railroad, 
 averaging about 50 cents per barrel, the market having ad- 
 vanced in the meantime. I took into partnership, one John 
 Gilbert, of Connecticut, who was a carpenter. He worked at 
 his trade to pay living expenses while I pumped the oil. The 
 oil in the boat became exceedingly heavy from evaporation 
 from the sun's rays, so we bought a boat, bought it about half 
 full of fresh oil from the well. We pumped the fresh oil into 
 the heavy boat to and fro, mixing it thoroughly, the lye pro- 
 ductions in those days being worthless. The first natural 
 freshet that came we started for Pittsburg with our two 
 boats of oil, as the water in the Allegheny was Cjuite low, our 
 pilot, Arnor, did not wish to take chances of going over some 
 of the lower bars in the river so we stopped at what wa.^ 
 , known as the Success Oil Works above Kittanning, I think, 
 where we sold our oil for 16^ cents a gallon, netting us 
 something over $1,200.00. I never was so wealthy before, I 
 never will be again. We continued for a time buying along 
 the creek and selling in the Oil City and Pittsburg markets. 
 I then devoted my time for a while in going in among wells 
 and buying what oil was in the bottom of tanks. I would dig 
 three holes in the ground, tap the tank and the sun's rays 
 from the first to the third hole would separate the water and 
 other impurities and when it was barreled and hauled to the 
 Oil City market it sold at the same price as oil fresh from 
 the wells, after which I devoted my time in trying to become 
 a producer. In the meantime ni}^ father and Mr. Beers had 
 bought from one Mr. Parsons, of Westfield, N. Y., fifty acres 
 on Gherr}^ run for a nominal sum and had the same surveyed 
 and plated into leases 99 feet square, the royalty being one- 
 half. The writer was one of four eastern parties who took 
 the first lease from Cornen & Beers, and known as the Cherrv 
 Valley Oil Company and drilled the first well upon the pro- 
 perty, and as the four owners were from Massachusetts and 
 Connecticut we named it the Yankee well. When the stake 
 was driven for the well she proved to be a fifty barrel flower. 
 Oil was sold from this well the first season she produced for 
 $13.00 per barrel. It was quite common in those days to- 
 sell one-half of ones interest before the well was completed 
 for a sum of money sufficient to complete the whole interest: 
 
1 84 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 which was the case with my interest in this well. I drilled 
 many wells upon this property with various results. In one 
 case I was awarded with a one-fourth interest in one of the 
 largest wells ever struck upon the property. At one time 
 Cornen & Beers had an auction of some of the leases; at this 
 I paid $1,700 bonus for one lease 99 feet square and 
 half the oil. Little did I think when going down this run to 
 Rouseville that I would ever assist in taking out of this 
 property the hundreds of thousands of dollars that was taken 
 out. This same property is owned by Henry I. Beers today 
 and I am of the opinion it is still producing. The derrick to 
 this Yankee well was hewn from chestnut timber and morticed 
 together, being 56 feet high. The entire rig in those days cost 
 $600, 250 barrel tank, $250; drilling $3.00 a foot. An eight- 
 horse power second hand portable boiler and engine was pur- 
 chased at Franklin for $1,800 and hauling the same from 
 Franklin to Cherry run $200; Butwell 2-inch tubing, $1.25 per 
 foot; Cranberry coal $1.25 per bushel, (did we get a bushel?). 
 Any one who might suggest to drill upon the mountains in 
 those days was a fit subject for an insane asylum. In 1867 I 
 bought from one Dr. John Nevins 160 acres on Haliday run. I 
 drilled many well and made many leases ; while the caliber of 
 the wells was small they were very lasting; the property is 
 producing today. It proved to me to be a lucrative property. 
 My south line was the dividing line between Oil City and 
 Cornplanter township. My first visit to the Bradford field 
 did not impress me with favor. I could not believe that oil 
 produced from a chocolate rock could be lasting, but as time 
 rolled on I soon followed the rush and with my brother, who 
 had arrived to a business age, we formed a partnership under 
 the style name of C. A. & D. Cornen. We drilled many wells 
 in various parts of the field, having as our motto to buy the 
 property and drill on free ground. It came to our ears there 
 had been a new well struck at Clarendon, Warren county. Pa. 
 We at once investigated the matter and found the same to 
 be a fact, with from 20 to 25 barrels daily output, with a 
 number of wells that were flowing at Stoneham, about one- 
 half mile from the new well, and had been for a number of 
 years, but they were small. We looked upon the situation 
 with favor and at once bought in fee the Davis farm at Clar- 
 endon, 200 acres. The fee of 556 is 165 acres, of 531 is 165 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 185 
 
 acres. The oil and gas, right in fee of 586 is 165 acres, the 
 oil and gas right in fee of the west half of 563, 80 acres, all 
 in Mead township. Also the south half of the oil and gas 
 right in fee of lot 608, Cherry Grove township, aggregating 
 some 887 acres. Every piece of property proved productive of 
 gas or oil or both except the west half of 56, 80 acres. In 
 drilling a well upon 586, which was known as a wildcat, pure 
 and simple, not knowing the altitude, we intended to drill deep 
 enough, at a depth which we afterward found out was 140 
 feet, below the level of the Clarendon oil sand, we struck a 
 very large gas well. We set to work at once to pipe the 
 same to Clarendon for domestic purposes and through the oil 
 field for drilling purposes. The caliber of the well gave us a 
 large clientage of consumers from this well. A 450 line was 
 run by Peter Grace, of Jamestown, N. Y.,to 646, which opened 
 up the famous Cherry Grove oil field. Operating a short time 
 in northwestern and southeastern Ohio and also in West 
 Virginia, neither of which swelled my bank account, this 
 writing finds me and mine, after traveling over 43 years of 
 life's journey tog'ether, in possession of the old homestead in 
 Ridgefield, Connecticut, in a house large enough for a 
 moderate sized hotel with 1 1 feet 6 inches ceilings on the first 
 floor, with II windows, each of which can be made a door 
 if you wish it, with cultivated sugar maples of some forty- 
 five years' growth on either side of a wide highway for over 
 three-quarters of a mile, and when foliage is out they form 
 an arch of grandeur and beauty and comfort to man and beast, 
 as the hot rays of the summer's sun seldom finds its way 
 through the foliage ; of a cultivated sugar maple orchard of 
 some 250 trees of the same growth. With a trout stream 
 running through this 300 acre property where my two sons 
 from the banks of this same property last season caught six 
 trout that weighed seven pounds and seven ounces. It is not un- 
 common to fill an 8 pound basket from this stream. Two of 
 the trout weighed i pound 9 ounces, the other i pound 8 
 ounces. I have fished many of the mountain streams of 
 Pennsylvania and I don't know where to equal it in that 
 state. 
 
 With a new railroad, for which they are now procuring the 
 right of way, bringing Ridgefield within one hours run of 
 
1 86 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 New York City, will almost make us feel we are living in 
 the confines of the metropolis. This connection brings the 
 Berkshire hills mucli nearer New York City which will be a 
 great convenience to the city tourist. 
 
 E. B. GRANDIN. 
 
 Alhough E. B. Gradin's photo does not appear in this 
 "Album of Self-made Men," he is entitled to a short bio- 
 graphy, being one of the subscribers who has bought a large 
 number of copies of this book to distribute among his friends. 
 Mr. Grandin stands out conspicuously as one of the best typej 
 of an oil man. He commenced the business when it was an un- 
 known quantity. It required genuine grit and sticktoitive- 
 ness to produce oil before tools were made to produce it suc- 
 cessfully. It was much easier for Mr. E. B. Grandin to fol- 
 low the business than many other boys who started in and 
 fell by the wayside, as his was an exceptional beginning. I 
 have my doubts of finding another boy, (he was a mere boy 
 when he took his first chance of the greasy fluid,) that had 
 such universal good luck as he had from the beginning to the 
 present time. He handled more different interests than any 
 operator of his age and made a strike every time he took an 
 interest in an oil lease, either in fee simple or lease. To know 
 that E. B. Grandin owned an interest in an oil well when 
 drilling was to know that it would be a great money maker 
 and the same may be said of other investments outside of the 
 oil business. He has now a heavy interest in 325,000 acres 
 of wheat and pine timber lands in many southern states that 
 keep swelling his already immense fortune. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 187 
 
 GEORGE WELLINGTON DINSMOOR. 
 
 George Wellington 
 Dinsmoor was born in 
 Elk township, Warren 
 county, Pa., June 20, 
 1847, being the youngest 
 son of G. F. and Cath- 
 erine Dinsmoor. He re- 
 ceived a very meager ed- 
 ucation, attended school 
 not to exceed one year in 
 all. He had to work 
 hard at an early age be- 
 ing the youngest of a 
 very large family, he 
 
 helped his father and brother on the farm, also doing odd 
 jobs for neighbors. At the age of fourteen years he secured 
 employment of a farmer in Cattaraugus county, N. Y., at 
 twelve dolalrs a month during the summer and during the 
 winter worked in the woods and sawmill for a lumberman by 
 the name of Edward Reynolds, in Elk township, and at in- 
 tervals during the following summer and winter. The next 
 summer back to Cattaraugus county for the same farmer, 
 milked ten cows and made a hand in hayfield also. Getting 
 the war fever he enlisted and was rejected on account of age, 
 tried again with same result, the third time he was accepted 
 and assigned to the iiith New York Infantry. A splendid 
 organization standing fourteenth in fatalities of all the two 
 thousand or more regiments of the Union army (according 
 to Colonel Fox, late of Oil City). Mr. Dinsmoor being 
 present and in many of the hardest fought battles of the latter 
 part of the war was right on the "firing line" when General 
 Lee surrendered at Appomatox. 
 
 On returning home he worked at lumbering and in saw- 
 mills in various places and for different men. Sawmills at 
 that time were principly uprights, Mulleys, Gangs. Once or 
 twice he undertook to farm but the farm had no charms and 
 was soon abandoned. 
 
 In the late 6o's Joseph Hall's splendid sawmill at Tiona 
 (then called Tionesta) was burned to ashes but was soon re- 
 
1 88 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 built by that enterprising lumberman and an up-to-date cir- 
 cular mill established. On going over to see it work he at 
 once became fascinated. So delightful to see a circular take 
 swing on hemlock knots. He at once secured employment 
 from Mr. Hall and commenced at "tail" sawyer (off bearing 
 would be proper), and was soOn promoted to setter, next to 
 handling the levers. Studying closely he became head sawyer, 
 filing saws and having about full charge of the entire estab- 
 lishment and had a good understanding of every part. When 
 E. G. Wood & Co. sold to Clapp, Stowe & Co. he left and has 
 not done an hours' work in a sawmill since. In 1874 he 
 went into the lower oil country, Venango, Clarion, Butlei- 
 counties were the "front" at that period. He worked in coun- 
 try coal mines, soon went to pumping, dressing tools, drilling, 
 done some of all kinds of work in connection with the oil 
 business and kept at it until 1884. Then with his son, L. D. 
 Dinsmoor, a "husky" lad of seventeen years, started out to 
 see a little of the world. Went to the Pacific coast, followed 
 it from Mexico to Vancouver, B. C, but returned to the 
 southern part of Missouri, where they spent one year, then to 
 Moberly, Missouri, where they worked in and around coal 
 mines and in 1888 was a candidate for representative from 
 Randolph county. He chd not get elected but got, a fine vote, 
 (the county was almost three to one Democrats). He spoke 
 in several places where a Republican had not been before. 
 In 1889 he went to Macon county, Missouri, it looked good 
 and he concluded to settle down and "hew" out a home. 
 He was census enumerator in 1890, worked at mining, was 
 hoisting engineer, weigh boss, etc., until 1905. Meantime 
 he had built up a beautiful home with unequalled surround- 
 ings, conventional designs, exquisite flowers, etc., the finest 
 in that section of the county and was justly proud of the 
 same. In 1895 his son, L. D., had returned to West Virginia 
 and had been very successful in the oil business, securing 
 quite a large settled production, urged him to come and take 
 charge of some of it which he did. He has been pumping 
 for Dinsmoor & Co. up to the presnt time. He is pleasantly 
 located on a high hill above the city of St. Marys having a 
 fine view of over five miles of the Ohio river. 
 
 On August 2, 1909, his son, L. D., was thrown from a 
 horse and fatally injured, only surviving about three hours, 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES 189 
 
 the saddest shock of his entire hfe. His solace being his 
 son's children, four in number, one born four days after 
 the fatal accident. 
 
 He is a fair "off-hand" speaker, always in demand at camp 
 fires, encampments, decorations, anniversaries, etc. 
 
 He is patriotic to the core, displaying the flag on all occa- 
 sions, presenting flags to those that will display them. Never 
 meets an old comrade, Union or Confederate, in need of as- 
 sistance without rendering every assistance in his power. 
 
 At one time in life he was fairly well posted in geology, 
 at present entirely superceded by botany. His chief delight is 
 in roaming woods and hills, with congenial companions, 
 studying wild flowers, forestry, rocks, etc. 
 
 Always makes a rule to work for the best interest of his 
 employers. 
 
 He makes it a strict rule never to speak cross or angry. 
 
 The little advance in education was prompted as necessities 
 appeared. 
 
 Is optimistic in regard to the future. Thinks most people, 
 especially financiers, take life too seroiusly. Hence tries to 
 be cheerful under all circumstances. 
 
 He is fairly well posted in history, war history a specialty. 
 
 In religion and politics he is extremely liberal. Does not 
 belong to any church but believes there is good in all of 
 them, also that there is good in nearly all societies, secret and 
 open. For a number of years belonged to the Knights of 
 Labor. For two years, 1886 and '87 was worthy foreman of 
 district No. 11, embracing all territory between the Missis- 
 sippe and Rocky mountains. Was presiding officer on several 
 occasions. 
 
 Has belonged to the Grand Army of the Republic about 
 twenty-five years. Commander of Posts several times. Was 
 delegate at large from West Virginia last year (1909) to 
 National Encampment at Salt Lake City. 
 
 Entered the campaign in 1896. Made addresses in several 
 states in the west in the interest of the Republican ticket. 
 Was member of National League of Republican Clubs from 
 first congressional district of Missouri. 
 
 Has this advice to all young people, "Do not be mean, and 
 the longer you live the more firmly you will be convinced it 
 is the best advice you ever received." 
 
190 
 
 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 E. O. EMERSON. 
 
 Mr. E. O. Emerson 
 was all throug-h the Civil 
 War, and when it was 
 over came directly to the 
 f oil reg-ions and located in 
 
 Titusville. His first ven- 
 ture being- in Pithole in 
 1865 when he bought a 
 half acre near the famous 
 Grant well, paying for 
 the same $5,000 bonus 
 and half the oil. Starting 
 to drill two wells on this 
 little piece of ground, the 
 estimated cost of which 
 was $10,000. After this was done there was nothing to do 
 but await developments ; one day upon climbing one of the 
 adjacent hills, where he could look down upon the innumer- 
 able derricks thickly covering the valley, he observed a line 
 of teams nearly half a mile in length awaiting their turn to 
 fill their barrels at the Grant well, then flowing 1,000 barrels 
 a day, and it occurred to him that if all these drilling wells 
 got oil it would swamp everybody in the business, there be- 
 ing no pipe lines to carry away the oil then. There was also 
 the danger of getting dry holes, so he decided it was too great 
 a risk to take and at once decided to sell. Very soon he found 
 a purchaser by which he doubled his money inside of a 
 month and went back to Titusville. His two wells when com- 
 pleted were both dry, and nearly everybody there went broke 
 or sustained large losses. Later Mr. Emerson bought the 
 lease of the famous Riddle farm off Dune Karns, located 
 at Karns City, containing 200 acres, and secured a large 
 production. 
 
 In 1880 Mr. Emerson went into the natural gas business at 
 Olean and Pittsburg, in company with J. N. Pew and laid the 
 first pipe line for commercial purposes into that city from 
 Murraysville, about eighteen miles from Pittsburg. When 
 they struck their first well, the gas could neither be seen or 
 smelled, it was just as if a blast of wind was coming out of 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 191 
 
 the hole. All of his experience with gas up to this time was 
 that it had distinct odor and could also be seen as a vapor, 
 so when the question of laying the pipe line to Pittsburg came 
 up, Mr. Emerson was like the man from Missouri, he must be 
 shown; people would laugh if he laid a line to carry wind 
 to the city, so he insisted that a pipe be carried out to a safe 
 distance, and then prove by lighting the gas. This was done 
 and all doubts dispelled upon applying the torch. 
 
 Mr. Emerson has had forty-five years of experience in the 
 oil and gas business, and is still more or less actively engaged 
 in various enterprises, in all of which he is noted as a con- 
 servative operator. 
 
 GEORGE COLIN PRIESTLY. 
 
 George Colin Priestly, 
 now a prominent oil 
 producer of the Mid-con- 
 tinent field, was born at 
 Fort Kent, near Houlton, 
 Maine, June 10, 1862. 
 His father and mother 
 were of Scotch parent- 
 age, thus by birth he was 
 e n d o w e d with good 
 health and great vitality, 
 which have assisted him 
 in the great struggle to 
 attain his present posi- 
 tion. His early years were passed in Pleasantville, Venango 
 county, Pennsylvania, where his father moved his family in 
 August, 1866. His boyhood days were full of hard work, 
 Leaving school before he was twelve years old, he assisted his 
 father by driving team, hauling coal from Titusville to the oil 
 wells near his home. At that early age the oil business seem- 
 ed to have a fascination for him that grew with age. He 
 wanted to be an oil man. Getting a little money ahead he at- 
 tended Duff's Commercial school at Pittsburg one term, and 
 
192 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 then accepted a position in the general store of S. O. Brown 
 & Co. Clerking" did not seem to appeal to him and a pumping 
 job being offered to him by W. B. Benedict and D. McKelvey 
 he quit the store and went to work for them. He soon adapt- 
 ed himself to the work and was made superintendent of their 
 properties at Wardwell run farm, near Glade, Warren county, 
 Pa. He was then under twent}^ years of age. At the opening 
 of the Grand Valley oil field he was transferred to Goodwill 
 Hill and developed their property there. On December 25, 
 1885, he was married to Miss Julia Ruland, of Enterprise, and 
 moved to the little home on the Hunter farm, which he had 
 prepared for his Christmas present. He remained with the 
 company until they sold their property. About this time Mr. 
 Gillam, who owned the small store on the hill, died, and Mr. 
 Priestley bought the property from the heirs. This was his 
 first venture and in a measure showed his ability to do things. 
 From a ver)^ small trade he built up a business that surprised 
 the oldest. He soon had a shingle mill, then a sawmill, and 
 took great pride in selling the best shingles and lumber that 
 went to the trade. During- these years his family increased to 
 six, four children being born : Willis, Hazel, Bessie and 
 George. School matters began to interest him and he was 
 elected school director and was president of the school board 
 for several years. His activity in politics (Republican by the 
 way), fighting as hard to elect a township official of his faith 
 as he did a president, soon attracted the attention of the leaders 
 of his party at the county seat and he soon became a strong 
 favorite for county treasurer to which office he was elected 
 in 1900. At the expiration of his term of office he immediate- 
 ly went to Oklahoma and plunged into the fight for leases and 
 wealth. On his arrival at Bartlesville he was told that he was 
 too late, that everything good was taken up and in less than 
 two weeks he bought from local parties the Lumberman Oil 
 Co., which today is one of the best companies in the state. 
 Since then he has acquired the Wolverine, Fort Pitt, and 
 Pickwick companies, all gilt edged and good paying proper- 
 ties. His outside interests are large, some good real estate in 
 Bartlesville, a nice interest in the Indepdendence & Coffeyville 
 Traction company, one of the best investments in the state of 
 Kansas, an interest here and there in various manufacturing 
 concerns in the cit3^ seem to indicate that he may attain the 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 193 
 
 position which he smiHngly mentions when poHtics have been 
 broached to him, viz : I am out of the game until I make a 
 fortune. 
 
 Southern courtesy has attached colonel to him and from his 
 second month there he has been addressed in no other way. 
 His eastern friends do not seem to catch onto the title, but if 
 you are in Bartlesville, ask for Colonel Priestley and every 
 citizen can tell you where to find him. His success has not 
 changed him in the least, he is still George to all his old 
 friends and the "latch string has never been pulled in to them." 
 
 From the first he has been a member of the Commercial 
 Club of the city. No public improvement or anything for the 
 good of Bartlesville has ever passed his door without a con- 
 tribution. 
 
 His Scotch blood shows in his religion, Presbyterian, but 
 none of the others can find any fault, as he treats them very 
 nicely when called upon to assist them. His donations to 
 charity are known only to those who receive but they are 
 second to none in one of the most charitable cities of its size 
 in the United States. 
 
 Bartlesville is proud of her citizenship. Coming from all 
 parts of the world, all working to build up the best city in the 
 state, she gives credit to all upon her roll of honor among 
 whom you will find the name not far from the top. Colonel 
 Geo. C. Priestley. 
 
 13 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 195 
 
 McKINNEY'S CORNET BAND. 
 
 This band is one of the oldest in Warren county. It is 37 
 years since its organization. W. S. McKinney, when but a 
 boy of 15, joined and was elected leader, which position he has 
 held up to the present time. For the first four years the band 
 hired Mr. George Gross, a German gentleman, who had play- 
 ed 20 years in a military band in Germany. He taught the 
 McKinney band two nights each week, and at the end of 
 four years the members of the band were fully competent to 
 play beautiful dirges at the funeral of their faithful teacher. 
 They played at many noted places during that time, among 
 which was the laying of the corner stone of the insane asylum 
 at North Warren, the dedication of the I. O. O. F. cemetery 
 at Youngsville, at the I. O. O. F. grand lodge of New York 
 at Jamestown, N. Y., where they took second premium at a 
 contest of man}^ bands, at the laying of the corner stone of the 
 magnificent high school building erected in the memory of his 
 son, Dr. Franklin White, by his father Hon. J. B. White, a 
 former resident of Youngsville, but now of Kansas City, Mo., 
 in the winter and Bemus point, N. Y., in the summer, and 
 other noted places, too numerous to memtion. All these years 
 this band has made music for their home town free of charge, 
 dozens and dozens of times. They have made music nearly 
 all over the country and are more widely known than any 
 band in Pennsylvania outside the large cities. One novelty is, 
 that every member belongs to the Odd Fellows, and they 
 make free music for the initiatory ceremonies. They are called 
 the I. O. O. F. band. In fact, they proclaim the fact by carry- 
 ing the big letters I. O. O. F. on the end of the bass drum. 
 The names of the members are, reading from left to right, 
 seated : W. H. Gray, W. F. Schnell, W. S. McKinney, leader ; 
 H. Babcock, W. B. Phillips. 
 
 Back row, standing: Sam Rima, Archie Davis, A. Schnell, 
 Elmer Sederburg. Members absent, R. A. Head, George 
 Schuab, Ross Mead. 
 
196 
 
 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 NELSON P. WHEELER. 
 
 Jfy. 
 
 N. P. Wheeler was 
 born at Portville, N. Y., 
 and grew upon a farm 
 with its work and lum- 
 .. ■.-;;■ bering, attended district 
 
 , * school. At the age of 
 
 *. ' thirteen began attending 
 
 ,.— ^".'..- O 1 e a n Academy, six 
 
 ). miles away, caring for 
 
 the horses and cows, pigs 
 and chickens, getting the 
 wood and driving down 
 and back each school day. 
 When seventeen years of 
 age he made his first 
 trip on the river, pulling an oar the whole distance from Port- 
 ville to Cincinnati and going out with the line at each landing. 
 At twenty-three he went on the Tionesta to take charge of 
 the lumbering establishment of H. Stow & Co. At twenty- 
 six he was elected county commissioner. Li 1878 was elected 
 assemblyman from Forest county and refused another term 
 on account of increasing business. In 1906 he was elected 
 congressman in the twenty-eighth district of Pennsylvania 
 and re-elected in 1908. He has been an active lumberman all 
 his life. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 197 
 
 JOSEPH ANDERSON SCHOFIELD. 
 
 The portrait herewith 
 is a good hkeness of Jo- 
 seph Anderson Schofield, 
 a prominent attorney and 
 oil producer of Warren 
 county, Pa. Mr. Scho- 
 field was born in Phila- 
 delphia, December 31, 
 i860, his parents being- 
 Albert R. Schofield (a 
 prominent attorney of the 
 Quaker City, and a mem- 
 ber of the state legisla- 
 ture for two terms ) and 
 
 Mary E. Anderson, a descendant of Patrick Anderson, who 
 fought in the Revolutionary War as one of the aides to General 
 Washington. 
 
 Joseph A. Schofield received his education in the schools of 
 Chester county and Philadelphia, where he resided until 1885, 
 when he came to Warren, Warren County, Fa., where he has 
 resided continuously since. 
 
 He is an attorney of ability and is the principal owner of 
 the largest oil production, consisting of one continuous pro- 
 perty, in Warren county, being known as the J. A. Schofield 
 & Co. oil lease. This property was originally purchased from 
 O. AV. and D. W. Beatty, but Mr. Schofield has added to it 
 adjoining lands from leases until now it consists of over 1,500 
 acres of land on which is situated 220 oil wells. It is conceded 
 by all that it is the best fitted up oil production in Warren 
 county, all the wells being pumped by the latest machinery, the 
 foundations of the powers being laid in cement, wire rope 
 being used for pull rods, maintains its own thread cutting 
 machnery and machine shop, and everything up-to-date in 
 every particular. 
 
 Mr. Schofield is an ardent Republican, has been chairman 
 of the Republican County Committee and is a member of the 
 Warren borough school board, and has been prominent in 
 Warren for many years as a public spirited, progressive 
 citizen. 
 
198 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 In 1889 he married Clare C. Braddock, of Philadelphia, who 
 is also a descendant of revolutionary stock. They have four 
 children, Braddock, Albert R., Anderson and Rebecca. 
 
 YOUNGSVILLE FIRE DEPARTMENT. 
 
 The photo on the next page shows the very efficient fire 
 fighters of Youngsville, Pa. They are a set of firemen that a 
 borough of only 2,000 inhabitants may well take pride in. 
 
 Several years ago the city fathers built a town hall of brick 
 and bought a fine $3,000 engine. An addition is being built 
 at present to make more room for the big engine. Since buy- 
 ing this, it has, in saving property, paid for itself over and 
 over, many times. Several fires have started that would have 
 swept streets if not for this engine and thirty-two lively 
 fighters. Twelve were absent when this photo was taken, but 
 the twenty present show determined faces. All take pride 
 in the good they do for the town. 
 
 The names of these members beginning at the left of the 
 lines are : Sitting — Foreman Wickham ; Chief Bradway ; As- 
 sistant Foreman Black. First row standing — Dalrymple, R. 
 McKinney, J. M. McKinney, Benson, Phillips, Weaver, Han- 
 son, Yarling, Kirkham. Second row — Lightner, Haupin, 
 Wickwire, Brooks, Bartlett, F. Black, Davis. Engine Master 
 Ralph Dalrymple; Driver Ed.. Johnson. 
 
200 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 JOHN CALHOUN DINSMOOR. 
 
 At one time in his life 
 John Calhoun Dinsmoor, 
 *- ' of Marietta, Ohio, aspir- 
 
 ed to the profession of 
 the law and as disciple of 
 the illustrious Blackstone, 
 he would, no doubt, have 
 w^on enduring fame, as 
 his keen and analytic 
 mind admirably adapted 
 him to a career in the 
 forensic world. But at a 
 critical moment the allur- 
 ino- fascinations of the oil 
 field served as a magnet 
 to draw him away from well-laid plans, and as a result the 
 profession of the law, no doubt, lost one of its most shining- 
 satellites. That he made no mistake is strongly accentuated 
 in the fact that he has won enviable prominence in his chosen 
 field, not only accumulating wealth but making a reputation 
 among the leading oil operators of the country as a man of 
 remarkable business ability. 
 
 John Calhoun Dinsmoor was born March 21, 1838, in 
 Warren county, Pa., and his ansectors were noted foi; their 
 many intellectual attainments. His father, a lumberman and 
 farmer, was a son of Governor Dinsmoor, of New Hampshire. 
 The Dinsmoors were of Scottish origin, while James Calhoun 
 Dinsmoor's mother, who was Katherine Harper before her 
 marriage, and noted for her Christian spirit, came of fine old 
 English stock. 
 
 The subject of our sketch first attended the common schools 
 of Warren county, and later in Jamestown and Randolph, N. 
 Y. The early years of his schooling constituted only a few 
 months in the winter and the balance of the time he worked 
 on his father's farm, endeavoring to secure enough money to 
 obtain an education, and one of his ambitions was to possess 
 knowledge. He taught school for several winter terms and 
 then read law with his brother, Charles Dinsmoor, in Warren, 
 Pa., with the expectation of adopting the profession as his life 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. " 201 
 
 work. But when the oil excitement broke out at Oil Creek, 
 Pa., he cast aside legal lore and got a position boating oil on 
 Oil creek. Later he went to Cranberry township, where he 
 engaged in the coal business, making his first money. After 
 two years he sold out and was next heard from in the west, 
 where he followed agricultural pursuits for six years, return- 
 ing to Clarion county, and again started in the coal trade, 
 from which he realized considerable money. 
 
 Although he had been wandering in other fields, he still 
 looked forward to a career in the oil business, and with the 
 money acquired from his coal business he obtained a small 
 lease of several acres including two wells, which he operated 
 and realized a very fair production. The oil market finally 
 got on a down grade and Mr. Dinsmoor sold out to pay his 
 debts, but his credit remained good. 
 
 He then went to Oil City, Pa., and located in the Tarkill 
 oil field, not far from the city, purchasing a small interest in a 
 large lease and went to work pumping. He bought in on this 
 lease, but oil again taking a drop, lost everything he had. His 
 credit remained good, however, and he retained the property, 
 which he operated later with eminent success. Since then he 
 has been an extensive buyer of oil lands in Pennsylvania, hav- 
 ing an immense production. Since 1901 he purchased large 
 properties in West Virginia, where he now has 450 produc- 
 ing wells. 
 
 Our subject is a heavy stockholder in the concerns of Dins- 
 moor & Co., Dinsmoor Oil Co. and J. C. Dinsmoor & Son, 
 besides having large individual holdings in oil and gas in- 
 terests in various parts of the country. He is a member of 
 the Oil City Gun Club, Oil City, Pa., St. Marys Gun Club, 
 of St. Marys, W. Va., and the Odd Fellows. 
 
 Mr. Dinsmoor was married in 1865 to Miss Jane Holt, of 
 Warren county. Pa., and they have two children, James Den- 
 ton and Lyell Emerson. Club life holds forth no charm for 
 Mr. Dinsmoor, whose chief delights are the associations that 
 surround his home, and when not engrossed in his multifar- 
 ious business afi^airs, can always be found in the society of his 
 family. 
 
 Mr. Dinsmoor made his way up to his present enviable 
 position by work, his alma mater was the college of hard 
 knocks, and he had the rare faculty of never getting dis- 
 
202 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 couraged when failure stared him in the face. He has been 
 blessed with the best of health all his life, and he was thus 
 enabled to prosecute his labors without interruption. Our sub- 
 ject has an extensive acquaintance among the oil fraternity, 
 and is one of the most popular men in the business. He is an 
 omniverous reader, having a magnificent library of scientific 
 works, and is an expert on the geological conditions of the 
 early oil fields, a subject of which he has wonderful know- 
 ledge. 
 
 He attends the Unitarian church and his religious views are 
 broad and liberal. He attributes his success to being ambitious 
 and keeping his credit. He has rubbed elbows with all con- 
 ditions of life, and as he puts it himself, been thousands of 
 dollars worse off. than nothing. His experience has made 
 him a good man to tie to when in trouble, as his perseverance 
 and wise counsel have frequently brought success to an enter- 
 prise that appeared to be doomed to failure. He assures the 
 young man that refuses to become discouraged- and works 
 hard that he will ultimately sweep all obstacles from his path 
 and attain the fame and success to which he aspires. 
 
 ■^*^ 
 
 LANSING DITMARS WETMORE. 
 
 Lansing Ditmars Wet- 
 more was born in War- 
 ren county. Pa., on the 
 ,. ii8th day of October, 
 
 '1818. He was decended 
 from Thomas Whitmore, 
 whose name has become 
 abbreviated to Wetmore. 
 Thomas Whitmore, a 
 member of a well known 
 English family, came to 
 Boston in 1635 and later 
 lived at Hartford and 
 Middleton, Conn. 
 
 Lansing Ditmars Wet- 
 more was a son of Lansing Wetmore and the grandson of 
 Parsons Wetmore, who married Aurelia White, daughter of 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 203 
 
 Judge Hugh White, the founder of Whitestown, N. Y., as 
 western and central New York in 1784 was then cahed. 
 
 His mother, CaroHne Wetmore, born at Newton, L. I., was 
 decended from mixed Dutch and French Hugenot ancestry; 
 from the Dutch famihes of Ditmars and Remsen, and the 
 ancient Hugenot family DeRapelye. 
 
 He received his early education at the district schools of 
 Warren county, graduated with honor from Union college in 
 the class of 1841 and then began the study of law in Warren. 
 He was admitted to practice at the bar of Warren county in 
 1845 and from that time on he conducted a large and success- 
 ful practice in Warren and the adjoining counties, first alone, 
 later associating with him younger men, the firm name of 
 Wetmore, Noyes & Hinckley being the most widely and best 
 known. 
 
 In 1870 he was elected president judge of the sixth district 
 composed of the counties of Erie, Warren and Elk. Soon after 
 he retired from the practice of law to take up the duties of the 
 bench, Hon. W. E. Rice became a member of the firm. It is 
 a fact of interest that Judge Noyes, Judge Rice and Judge 
 Hinckley, have succeeded Judge Wetmore on the bench of this 
 judicial district — four judges from one firm, including every 
 member thereof. He was one of the founders of the First 
 National bank of Warren, and president of it for many years. 
 He was elected president of the American Lumbermen's As- 
 sociation at its meeting at Williamsport, Pa., in the early 
 seventies. Like his father, he was always remarkable for the 
 affability of his manner and his social disposition in all the re- 
 lations of life. His judicial decisions were almost always cor- 
 rect, notwithstanding the fact that he was engaged in private 
 business enterprises that would alone fully tax the energies 
 of most men. He studied all the questions that came before 
 him for decision with the thoroughness of a student in love 
 with his task, and refused to neglect the minutest detail of 
 his position. 
 
 As a citizen he was both public spirited and liberal to a 
 marked degree. His influence and purse could be relied on in 
 every movement for the benefit of the community. He was 
 a generous contributor to the fund to purchase the site for the 
 Struthers library building and was one of the original trustees 
 appointed by Mr. Struthers. He took an active part in secur- 
 
204 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 ing the location near Warren, of the State hospital for the 
 insane; was an original trustee of that institution and for 
 many years president of the board. The Warren Emergency 
 hospital was made possible by the subscriptions of Judge 
 Wetmore, and several other like public spirited men. 
 
 After the expiration of his term as judge, he purchased a 
 plantation where the Lynnhaven river enters Chesapeake bay, 
 in Princess Anne county, Virginia, and devoted the latter 
 years of his life to the development of that property. He 
 died at his home in Warren on the 30th day of December, 
 1905. 
 
 Judge Wetmore was twice married. His first wife was 
 Betsy Weatherby, of Warren, who died in 1856, leaving one 
 child, now the wife of J. P. Jefferson, of Warren. In 1858 he 
 married Maria C. Shattuck, of Groton, Mass. There were 
 three children of this marriage: Edward D., Frederick S. and 
 Albert L. 
 
 I 
 
 LEWIS EMERY, JR. 
 
 Lewis Emery, Jr., of 
 Bradford, was born about 
 two miles from the pretty 
 little village of Cherry 
 Creek, Chautauqua coun- 
 ty, N. Y., August 10, 
 1839. In 1842 his father 
 had been engaged con- 
 structing a railway near 
 Olean, N. Y., for the old 
 Erie, now the New York, 
 Lake Erie & Western 
 railroad, and lost a great 
 deal of money through 
 the failure of that cor- 
 poration. After severing his connection with the railroad he 
 secured a contract on one of the levels of the Genesee canal, 
 and when that company defaulted he was again a sufferer, 
 financially ; and, becoming disgusted with the state of affairs 
 in the east, determined upon going to the west. In January, 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 205 
 
 1842, he started, with his family, to drive overland to Janes- 
 ville, Wis. He was a thorough general mechanic, and an 
 adept in all the varied details of woolen cloth making. When 
 he reached Jonesville, Mich., on his westward journey, the 
 loss of some of his live stock compelled him to make a halt, 
 and the people of the surrounding country, learning of his 
 ability, persuaded him to settle among them, and they agreed 
 to and did build a mill for him, allowing him to pay for it 
 from the profits on his sales. He remained in Jonesville for 
 seven years, during the latter part of which period he built an- 
 other mill at Hillsdale, the county seat, to which place he 
 moved with his family in 1849. 
 
 Hon. Lewis Emery, Jr., the subject of this sketch, after 
 spending his early youth learning the trade with his father, 
 and acquiring what rudimentary education the country schools 
 afforded, was sent to Hillsdale college, Hillsdale, Mich., where 
 he finished his mental training. At the age of nineteen he 
 engaged to teach the district school of Wheatland township, 
 and continued to do so for two years ; after which he resumed 
 work at his father's flour mill, which he continued until he left 
 the state. During his attendance at Hillsdale college he mer 
 with, and formed an attachment for. Miss Elizabeth A. Cald- 
 well, and on December 29th, 1863 he married her at the home 
 of her parents, in Vistula, Elkhart county, Ind. Four child- 
 ren were the result of their marriage : Delevan Emery, born 
 September 26, 1867; Grace Elizabeth Emery, born January 
 27, 1874; Earle Caldwell Emery, born December 12, 1875, 
 and Lewis Emery, born August 27, 1878. Li May, 1864, he 
 went to Southern Illionis and engaged in general merchandis- 
 ing, and also built a mill. The war was brought to a close 
 soon after he went there, and, business coming to a stand-still, 
 he concluded to seek other fields, and in August, 1865, start- 
 ed for the oil regions of Pennsylvania. He made his first 
 stop at Pithole, Venango county, remaining a short time, and 
 in that memorable year located his first well at Pioneer, that 
 county, and shared the ups and downs of the producers of that 
 period. For the next five years he followed the excitement, so 
 characteristic of the oil country, with all its varied successes 
 and disappointments, until in 1870, he went to Titusville, 
 Crawford county. Pa., and was fairly on the way to wealth. 
 He rapidly rose to the top rank among the well-known pro- 
 
2o6 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 ducers of that field, and by his determination and enterprise, 
 coupled with a strong sense of honor in all business dealings, 
 he soon commanded the respect and confidence of the whole 
 community. Like hundreds of others of the then prosperous 
 producers, the financial panic, precipitated by the failure of Jay 
 Cooke & Co., of New York, caught him with the floating 
 obligations that could not be quickly enough protected to save 
 him from the desolating ruin that followed, and in the parlance 
 of the country he "went to the wall," almost hopelessly ruined. 
 With a recorded debt against him that would have driven a 
 less intrepid man to lunacy, or, possibly, to the grave, he, with 
 his characteristic enterprise and confidence in himself, was soon 
 looking about for a way to recover his lost fortunes. He had 
 often viewed the hills and vales of McKean county. Pa., with 
 the strong suspicion that they held beneath them a vast lake 
 of petroleum, only waiting to yield up its wealth to the pioneer 
 who should tap it. Now, in a spirit of desperation, almost, he 
 determined to test his ideas with a drill. He had leased and pur- 
 chased about 14,000 acres of territory, without a cent of 
 money. The people had confidence in him, trusted to his ability 
 to pay, and never questioned his honor. He commenced opera- 
 tions in this field July 28th, 1875, his first well being at Toad 
 Hollow, on what was known as the Tibbets farm, about two 
 miles south of the city of Bradford. This well opened up at 
 the rate of forty barrels per day, and not only proved of vast 
 financial importance to him, enabling him to wipe out every 
 cent of debt, and accumulate a handsome fortune, but it virtual- 
 ly opened up the g-reatest oil territory the world has ever seen. 
 His wealth piled up, and each year saw acres of territory fall- 
 ing into his possession, until over 50 wells were pouring their 
 wealth into his store-house. In thus entering such a vast under- 
 taking without money, the firm of Eaton, Cole, Burnham Com- 
 pany, of New York, proved great friends to him. They gave 
 him unlimited credit, though he was a bankrupt. They realized 
 that a man who had gone down two or three times, and as often 
 came out of the ordeal with honor unstained, would not long 
 remain down, and so it proved. In 1878 he was elected by the 
 people of McKean county to represent them in the general as- 
 sembly, where, in the session of 1879, he took such a warm and 
 untiring interest in the wants of the oil country, that the people 
 returned him to the legislature, in 1880, with credentials of a 
 senatorship. During his sitting in the lower house of the legis- 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 207 
 
 lature, he manifested an independence of spirit in political labor 
 similar to that which had always characterized his action else- 
 where. While he did not object to the party caucus, he would 
 follow no leader whom he suspected of packing the caucus, 
 either by purchase or the party lash. He ever edvocated the 
 most frank and honest dealing where the rights of the people 
 came into the question; and never could reconcile the man- 
 dates of packecl caucuses with either frankness, honesty or 
 honor. It was for this reason he refused to go into the sen- 
 atorial caucus of 1879. At that time the Republican party was 
 being wielded by and for the interest of a few individuals, and 
 the "gag" rule and caucus packing were two of their favorite 
 instruments to carry on their plans. The continuation of these 
 practices led to the memorable senatorial dead-lock in the legis- 
 lature in 1 88 1, when fifty-six Republicans remained out of the 
 party caucus, many refusing to be tied to Galusha A. Grow for 
 the United States senatorship, and this action ultimately re- 
 sulted in the election of Hon. John I. Mitchell, and was fol- 
 lowed a year later by the three-cornered fight for the guber- 
 national chair, by Hon. John Stewart, Robert E. Pattison 
 and James A. Beaver. He was re-elected to the State senate 
 from the twenty-fifth district in 1884, by a largely increased 
 majority. In the same year he was chosen delegate-at-large 
 to represent the State of Pennsylvania in the National Repub- 
 lican convention, that convened at Chicago, June 19, and was 
 in attendance during the memorable contest which ended in the 
 nomination of James G. Blaine and John A. Logan. He was a 
 warm advocate of Mr. Blaine's nomination, and an ardent 
 supporter of him in the election that followed. In 1886 he 
 was a candidate for congress from the sixteenth district, and 
 again in 1888 from the twenty- fourth district, but both times 
 ■was compelled to yield his claim, because of the rotation system 
 so determinedly clung to in that part of the state. During his 
 ten years of public service he was unflagging in his opposition 
 to the tendency of corporate monopolies and trusts to prostitute 
 their rights to private purposes, and the crushing out of fair 
 competition. In this direction he was the recognized leader of 
 the anti-monopolists, and, though tempted to withdraw his 
 opposition to the monopolists, by prospects of ample financial 
 returns in the way of business facilities, he consistently stuck 
 to his principles, and refused to be cajoled in any manner. In 
 
2o8 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 1879 he went to Europe, and made a thorough investigation 
 of the oil fields of the Baku region in Russia, to learn, if 
 possible, what its competition with American oil would ever 
 attain. In 1881 he made a second visit to Europe, this time 
 traveling through France, Germany, Italy, Turkey, Greece, and 
 up the Nile 1,000 miles, as far as the second cataract. He has 
 also traveled extensively in this country, and in the Canadian 
 provinces, and has equipped himself with a vast store of gen- 
 eral information as to the needs and capability of the country. 
 While traveling he was always a keen observer and a painstak- 
 ing student of the men and things he met. He is a man of 
 broad views, a ready reasoner and most determined in execu- 
 tion. His philanthropic work, while it has been very extensive, 
 has been directed in a modest and unostentatious manner, and 
 many are the institutions and private personages who have felt 
 the influence of his quiet beneficence. In his personal habits, 
 as in his public actions, he is plain and unpretentious. His 
 home life is one of domestic peace and happiness, and furnishes 
 him a harbor from the labors of business and public service, 
 to which he always hies with pleasure unfeigned. His public 
 spirit, coupled with a firm conviction that the rights of the com- 
 mon people must be sustained against the encroachment of in- 
 dividual or corporate gain, has made him an object of admira- 
 tion among the people, and one to whom they have always 
 shown a readiness to entrust their welfare. He is now engaged 
 in the production and refining of petroleum on a very exten- 
 sive scale in Bradford, McKean county, Pa. ; has large wheat 
 land interests in Northern Dakota and is owner of a large oil 
 well and general supply store in Bradford, McKean county. 
 Pa. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 209 
 
 LEVI SMITH. 
 
 Levi Smith, of War- 
 ren, Pa., was born April 
 12, 1844, in Lowhill 
 township, Lehigh county, 
 Pa., son of Gideon and 
 Ehza (Reber) Smith. 
 His father was a farmer 
 and his ancestors were 
 from Germany and Hol- 
 land. 
 
 Levi Smith, our sub- 
 ject, attended the com- 
 mon school, in Lowhill 
 township, only spending 
 four months of the win- 
 ter at school, and his summers were spent working hard on 
 the farm until he was nineteen years of age, when he left 
 home and school, and engaged with Kressley brothers at Lyon 
 Valley, Pa., to learn the agricultural machinist trade, where 
 he remained two years for $75.00 and his board; he then went 
 to Allentown, Pa., where he worked at his trade until he left 
 for the oil region of Pennsylvania on June 22, 1865, with a 
 worldly possession of $72.00. His first work in the oil regions 
 was at East Sandy, Pa., where he helped to build a hotel; from 
 there he went to Pithole, where he helped to build an oil rig 
 and drill the first oil well he ever worked on. After having 
 worked at this well about one year, a proposition was made 
 to him by Miram Judson, of Conneaut, O., to take possession 
 of an oil well nearby on a percentage of one-half of the pro- 
 duction, which he accepted, and increased the production of 
 the well from four to eighteen barrels per day, oil being worth 
 about five to eight dollars per barrel. 
 
 He afterwards formed a partnership with Peter Schreiber, 
 and operated for oil at Pithole, Pleasantville, Henry's Bend 
 and Tidioute, Pa., and when this partnership was dissolved 
 after four years of agreeable business relations, he formed a 
 new partnership with Brady & Logan, of Tidioute, Pa., in the 
 oil business, on Triumph Hill, of which he had charge; his 
 partners being also engaged in the hardware and oil well 
 
 14 
 
2IO OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 supply business' with a branch store at Triumph at the same 
 time, who during the time of the "thirty day shut down" re- 
 quested him to take charge of their branch store at the latter 
 place, which position he accepted, and when later on Brady 
 & Logan went into bankruptcy, our subject formed a new 
 partnership with A. J. Mclntyre and purchased the. hardware 
 and oil well supply stock and machinery, in which B. & L. 
 had formerly been dealing largely, from Grandin brothers, 
 of Tidiuote, who purchased the stock at sheriff sale, being the 
 principal creditors of Brady & Logan; he remained at the 
 head of this partnership for about seven years, with a moder- 
 ate degree of success, when he determined to get out of part- 
 nership, though with kindliest feelings and regards for his 
 partner, to whom he disposed of all his property interests in 
 and about Tidiuote ; after disposing of his interest at Tidiuote, 
 he purchased an oil well supply stock at sheriff sale, formerly 
 belong to J. W. Humphrey & Co., at Clarendon, Pa., and later 
 on also a large stock of oil well fishing tools of William 
 Robertson & Son, and in 1884 he became associated with 
 John Japes and Robert Thompson in a very crude and cheaply 
 constructed oil refinery of twenty-barrel capacity for which a 
 ditch of water served as a condenser, and of which the entire 
 inventory amounted to a little less than $850,000, of which he 
 purchased the undivided one-third interest, but took no active 
 part in the management of the works. The first year's busines? 
 showed quite a little loss, and then Japes' interest was pur- 
 chased by the remaining two partners, and the second year 
 also proved profitless, apparently for lack of still capacity and 
 other necessary improvements. At the end of the second year 
 Mr. Smith bought Thompson's interest also and devoted most 
 of his time to the refining business from that time on ; he re- 
 built and improved his plant from time to time, as he was 
 making financial headway, until his still capacity reached over 
 1,000 barrels per clay, and excellent success has attended his 
 untiring efi^orts in the refining as well 3S in most of his other 
 varied lines of business. He is and has been largely interested 
 in western lumber and timber business, Portland cement, in 
 and Kansas and Texas, mining and milling interests in Colo- 
 rado, soap and grease business in Warren, Pa., and has also 
 been president of the Citizens' National bank of Warren, Pa., 
 for a number of years until he resigned that position. 
 
 1 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. .211 
 
 Mr. Smith was married January i, 1873, to Miss Amanda 
 J. George, of Lyon Valley, Pa., by which marriage four 
 children have been born to them, two sons and two daughters, 
 the oldest son having died at the age of six years. His 
 residence is located on Market street, in Warren, Pa., where 
 he is surrounded with every home comfort. He is naturally 
 of a cheerful, musical, poetical and mechanical turn of mind 
 and all of the family are musically inclined. He is a fine 
 marksman and hunter, and is possibly the only man who ever 
 encountered a huge grizzly and a cinnamon bear at one and 
 the same time and came off victorious after ramming his rifle 
 barrel clown the grizzly's throat, which incident happened in 
 the Rocky Mountains in Colorado, in 1882, while on a hunt- 
 ing expedition with several others, who witnessed at a dis- 
 tance, the horrifying, fearless experience on his part, with 
 hearts in their months, and which he regards as having been 
 the busiest moments of his life. 
 
 Mr. Smith has taken much interest in school matters in 
 Warren, and other places, but more especially in instituting 
 the various industrial and physicial culture departments, be- 
 ing a great believer in combining the cunning of the brain and 
 hands for the benefit of both the individual and national wel- 
 fare, and he says if it were in his power to bring it about, 
 he would make physical culture and manual training com- 
 pulsory in every school in the United States, to the extent that 
 it could be made practical. He has equipped the Warren high 
 school with a first class manual training outfit for boys, 
 domestic science and sewing departments for girls, and an 
 excellent gymnasium, and donated to the same also, what is 
 said to be the finest collection of crystallized minerals in this 
 country, and which is a magnificent mineral flower garden. 
 In addition he has also contributed largely to other schools 
 and institutions. He is and has been sustaining a number of 
 foreigfn missionaries in China, Korea, and India for a number 
 of years also, and had at one time proposed to erect a first- 
 class municipal building and donate it to the town of Warren 
 for the use of the necessary town offices, the W. C. T. U., the 
 Salvation Army, and other homeless organizations, but which, 
 on account of objections raised by some who will never make 
 such a proposition themselves, he decided not to force it upon 
 the community. He neither uses tobacco or liquor in any 
 
212 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 form, having smoked but half a cigar when a boy, and never 
 learned to play any games except dominoes, and his advice to 
 young men would be never to adorn themselves with a neck- 
 lace of such millstones. 
 
 Mr. Smith has enjoyed good health most of his life, and has 
 kept a diary since 1865, which he writes up regularly every 
 night before going to bed. 
 
 Fraternally Mr. Smith is a Mason, being a thirty-second 
 degree Consistory Mason, Knight Templar and Shriner, and 
 socially he is most affable, genial and respected by all who 
 know him in a business and social way. He can be termed 
 a strictly self-made man, who has paved his own way to his 
 present enviable position, by industry, perseverance and strict 
 integrity. 
 
 We're spieading on life's records 
 
 The acts of our careers ; 
 
 Our deeds of good and evil 
 
 Throughout our mortal years 
 
 Whereby we may aid others 
 
 To win life's doubtful race 
 
 Or prove ourselves a hindrance. 
 
 A failure and diserace. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES 213 
 
 GUY C. IRVINE.. 
 
 Guy C. Irvine was 
 borri December 15, 1792, 
 near W a r r i e r s run, / 
 
 Northumberland county. ^ 
 
 Pa. His brother, James 1 
 
 Irvine, wrote him to come * ^W' 
 
 to the Little Brokenstraw ' 
 
 creek, and work at his 
 trade — blacksmithing. He 
 walked to Pittsburg in 
 181 7 and was kicked by a, 
 horse, while working at 
 his trade, and was laid 
 up with a broken arm. 
 He then went to Broken- 
 straw township, and found a chance to buy some lumber, 
 sawed, rafted, and ready to run down the Allegheny river. 
 He did not have the money to pay for it, so he walked back 
 to Warriors run, and borrowed the money — $400 — from his 
 step-father, walked back againi bought the lumber, run it to 
 Pittsburg, sold it, and within forty days, was on his way back 
 to his home, in Northumberland county, to pay back the bor- 
 rowed money. 
 
 He later bought a mill from James Irvine. He was mar- 
 ried to Miss Mary (Polly) Cotton, February 5th, 1822, by 
 'Squire Donaldson, of Youngsville, and began housekeeping 
 in a log house which they named "Castle Comfort," on what 
 is now known as the Brooks farm, near Dugall, Pa. In Castle 
 Comfort they had born to them three sons and one daughter. 
 Then in 1826 he founded Irvineburg, near Russellsburg, in 
 Pinegrove township, and was engaged in the lumber business 
 until his death in August 24, 1868. He had a partner when 
 founding, Irvineburg, Refus Weatherby, his brother-in-law 
 who died April 21st, 1833. 
 
 This firm, Irvine & Weatherby, commenced the building of 
 a large gristmill and storehouse. Mr. Weatherby died and 
 never saw it finished. Mr. Irvine carried out their plans 
 alone, after the death of his brother-in-law. From that time 
 up to the time of his death, Guy C. Irvine carried on a very 
 
214 
 
 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM 
 
 large lumber business alone, and everything he touched 
 turned into ready money. He was the first man of 
 the hundreds of mill owners to introduce "gang saws" 
 in the mills of this country. He buih mill after 
 mill and bought mill after mill until he owned 20 mills at one 
 time. He was the wealthiest man on the Allegheny river, 
 from its mouth at Pittsburg, to its source in the up-country 
 mountains. For further information concerning this remark- 
 able business man, turn to pages 132, 133, 134, of "Old Times 
 in Oildom." 
 
 GEO. E. LANGDON. 
 
 Geo. E. Langdon, edi- 
 tor and proprietor of the 
 Youngsville Enterprise, 
 one of the representative 
 young men of this sec- 
 tion, never did anything 
 of much account to the 
 great oil business, but 
 was born in Duke Cen- 
 ter, McKean county. Pa., 
 March 26, 1881, when 
 the oil excitement was at 
 its height. He can re- 
 member "Duke" in its 
 palmy days when it was 
 served by two railroads (but now it has none) and had a very 
 large population, living in houses built upon blocks as was 
 typical of oil country mushroom towns. He says that the 
 "wheeze" of the old Duke Center pump station that run night 
 and day for years still lingers in his ears. 
 
 He is the son of Rev. and Mrs. C. G. Langdon, now of War- 
 ren, Pa. His father was a rig builder and pipe line man. 
 \\'hen George was but a small boy his father caught a hand 
 between a walking beam and sampson post, and smashed that 
 member, losing two fingers. The never took up oil work again, 
 but entered the ministry. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES 215 
 
 Geo. E. Langdon entered the newspaper business at the age 
 of nineteen years, when, in partnership with his father and a 
 brother, J. P., now of Warren, they started the Warren Coun- 
 ty Record, at Sugar Grove, Pa. Afterward he and his 
 brother were left to carry on the newspaper and printing busi- 
 ness. In the spring of 1907, they moved their plant to 
 Youngsville and founded the Youngsville Enterprise. In 
 January, 1909, J. P. took up other work and left Geo. E. 
 proprietor and editor of the Enterprise. 
 
 The Enterprise is the pride of Youngsville and one of tne 
 best papers in this section and is loyally supported by the 
 people of the town and vicinity. Its mechanical equipment is 
 probably one of the very best to be found in any country of- 
 fice, and includes one of the most complicated and remarkable 
 machines now manufactured — a Lanston Monotype. 
 
 Mr. Langdon has a long life before him, ancl if nothing 
 happens will make himself an influential citizen in the near 
 future, and build up a lucrative business and an enviable 
 reputation. 
 
 JAMES ROY. 
 
 The following obituary 
 of James Roy is reprint- 
 ed from a Warren paper 
 published at the time of 
 his death. It is very ap- 
 propriate. 
 
 IN MEMORIAM. 
 
 Since our last issue 
 Warren county has suf- 
 fered a very heavy loss in 
 the death of Mr. James 
 Roy, of Glade township. 
 He was born in Phelps- 
 town, Ontario Co., N. Y., 
 
 on the 14th of September, . 
 
 1822 He came to this state in 1836, locatmg m Elk town- 
 ship. For many years he was one of the most promuient 
 lumbermen in this section of the state. 
 
2i6 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM 
 
 In the various business enterprises which engaged his at- 
 tention, farming, stock raising, oil producing or lumbering, 
 he was ever known for unwavering honesty and integrity. He 
 was not a member of a church but his life would put to shame 
 that of many who are, judged by the text of the Apostle 
 James : 
 
 "Pure religion and undefiled before God and the Father is 
 this : To visit the fatherless and widows in their affliction and 
 to keep himself unspotted from the world." 
 
 What he knew to be right he did, and had no use for 
 questionable methods of acquiring wealth by taking advantage 
 of the necessities of others. 
 
 His generosity was unbounded and his supreme happiness 
 was in doing good. 
 
 He died on Friday afternoon surrounded by his two sons 
 and five daughters. The survivors have the deepest sympathy 
 of the community in their irreparable loss. 
 
 The following beautiful lines which appeared in print sev- 
 eral years ago, are, we think, very appropriate to our late 
 esteemed and benevolent fellow citizen, Mr. James Roy : 
 
 WHAT WAS HIS CREED. 
 
 He left a load of anthracite 
 
 In front of a poor widow's door. 
 When the deep snow, frozen and white, 
 
 Wrap'd street and square, mountain and moor. 
 
 That was his deed ; 
 
 He did it well ; 
 "What was his creed?" 
 
 I cannot tell. 
 
 Blest "in his basket and his store," 
 
 In sitting down and rising up; 
 When more he got, he gave the more, 
 
 Witholding not the crust and cup. 
 
 He took the lead 
 
 In each good task; 
 "What was his creed?" 
 
 I did not ask. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 21; 
 
 His charity was like the snow, 
 
 Soft, white and silken in its fall ; 
 Not like the noisy winds that blow 
 
 From shivering trees and leaves ; a pall 
 
 For flower and weed, 
 
 Dropping below. 
 "What was his creed?" 
 
 The poor may know. 
 
 He had great faith in loaves of bread 
 
 For hungry people, young and old; 
 And "hope inspired kind words" he said, 
 
 To him he sheltered from the cold. 
 
 For he must feed 
 
 As well as pray. 
 "What was his creed?" 
 
 I cannot say. 
 
 In words he did not put his trust, 
 
 In faith his words he never writ; 
 He loved to share his cup and crust 
 
 With all mankind who needed it. 
 
 In time of need 
 
 A friend was he, 
 "What was his creed?" 
 
 He told not me. 
 
 He put his trust in Heaven, and 
 
 Worked ever on with hand and head ; 
 And what he gave in charity 
 
 Sweetened his sleep and daily bread. 
 
 Let us take heed. 
 
 For life is brief! 
 "What was his creed?" 
 
 "What his belief?" 
 
2i8 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM 
 
 GLENN W. SCOFIELD. 
 
 The portrait herewith 
 represents one of the best 
 lawyers and statesmen 
 U->. that ever graced the nice 
 
 f httle city of Warren. His 
 
 pohtical career commenc- 
 ed many years ago, when 
 tlie voters sent him to 
 i. represent them in the 
 
 state councils at Harris- 
 burg. He made himself 
 felt in the legislative halls 
 to such an extent that 
 when he spoke all listen- 
 ed. He was a man of line physique and had wonderful ora- 
 torical powers. He laid the foundation at Harrisburg for a 
 successful political life. His great talents were ever after 
 given to the people of the United State, his unequalled ser- 
 vice to the great state of Wm. Penn only paved the way to 
 more extended service of his beloved country. Term after 
 term in congress was given to him by his admiring constitu- 
 ents until he was appointed one of the United States judges, 
 which position he adorned up to the time of his death. Mr. 
 Scofield was not one of the tricky kind of politicians. No 
 spot or blemish ever appeared either in his private or public 
 life. His constituents will endorse this statement. This is 
 not written in the stereotyped phrase of laudation generally 
 used in the praise of public servants, but it is solid fact. 
 Judge Scofield has left behind him an unsullied record, that 
 future generations will not be ashamed of. His wife was the 
 daughter of Mr. Archibald Tanner, one of the pioneers of 
 Warren. His old stone homestead stands in the very heart of 
 Warren, surrounded by tall native pines, which will not very 
 likely fall vicitims to the woodman's ax, while his son, Archie, 
 and daughter inhabit this earth. It is but a few weeks since 
 the judge's life partner, his wife, was laid to rest by his side, 
 in beautiful Oakland cemetery. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 219 
 
 GEORGE H. LEONHART. 
 
 The photo on this page 
 is a very good shadow of 
 a born hotel man. 
 
 George H. Leonhart 
 was born May 25th, 1842, 
 near Warren, Pa., in 
 Pinegrove township, and 
 received his education m 
 the Warren schools. He 
 worked during vacations 
 on his father's farm and 
 in the lumber woods until 
 i860. He then went to 
 Texas and stayed until 
 
 1 86 1, then to St. Louis, New Orleans and Chicago. He re- 
 mained in Chicago, Quincy, Milwaukee and LaSalle until 1865 
 when he came back to Warren and has remained there up to 
 the present time. 
 
 VVhile in Chicago he learned the art of cooking in a large 
 restaurant. After arriving on his "old stamping grounds," at 
 Warren, his thoughts naturally turned to the hotel business, 
 which he has followed all these intervening years with marked 
 success. 
 
 His family consists of a wife and two exemplary daughters 
 which makes his home very pleasant. 
 
 For several years he owned and conducted the Exchange 
 hotel, then purchased the Struthers house and moved in, rent- 
 ing the Exchange. Since taking possession of the Struthers 
 hotel the rise in real estate and his adaptability as a "land- 
 lord" has put a large amount of "filthy lucre" to his credit. 
 
 George has, very recently, sold his furniture and rented the 
 building to a young landlord named Gerow, of Tionesta, Pa., 
 and will take a vacation from the hotel business for a time. 
 No doubt he will feel like a cat in "a strange garret." 
 
220 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM 
 
 A. E. AGRELIUS. 
 
 The picture here be- 
 
 ^;-""'*"" longs to A. E. AgreHus, 
 
 "^ % cashier of the Farmers 
 
 State Bank, of Lindsborg, 
 
 Kansas. 
 
 "Gene" ArgeHus, as he 
 was famiharly named, 
 was born of Swedish par- 
 ents and raised on a farm 
 about two miles from^ 
 Youngsville. He received 
 a common education at a 
 country school and left 
 this town a penniless saw- 
 mill hand thirty-three 
 years ago. After reaching Lindsborg he began the real estate 
 business and soon found himself possessor of money enough 
 to organize the "Farmers' State Bank of Lindsborg, Kansas." 
 He was elected cashier and still holds that position up to the 
 present time. Mr. Agrelius was one of the organizers of the 
 "Kansas Bankers Association," in 1887, and helped to frame 
 legislation in financial matters, being one of the pioneers in 
 the movement for guaranty of deposits by legal enactment. He 
 was a charter member of the state Temperance Union and was 
 one of the supporters of the prohibitory amendment to the 
 state constitution, which has driven saloons from the state. 
 Mr. Agrelius has held many offices and has been city treasurer 
 for the last twenty years. He is also a director in a $150,000 
 manufacturing corporation. He took a very active part in 
 the organization of Bethany college, of Lindsborg and the 
 musical societies which have a national reputation for the 
 rendition of "Handel's Messiah" given annually for the past 
 twenty-eight years. 
 
 In addition to all this he and his estimable wife have reared 
 and educated a regular Roosevelt family of five boys and three 
 girls. Surely, A. E. Agrelius is entitled to a high seat among 
 the self-made men shown in the biographical sketches in this 
 book. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 221 
 
 JOHN D. ROCKEFELLER. 
 
 Who has not seen the 
 this picture ? I wonder if 
 there is a man, woman or 
 child, in this broad land 
 of ours, that has not seen 
 the picture of the greatest 
 "oil man" and greatest 
 organizer on the globe, 
 and the richest man of all 
 the billions beneath the 
 shining sun. 
 
 I am more tlian ever 
 surprised that whole 
 books of alleged "histor}^" 
 
 should be written in trying to make him uui, as one of the 
 meanest men in the countr}^ I am not one of those that could 
 see any truth in these bad reports. I am a stranger to him. I 
 never saw the man, but I have seen thousands of men that 
 were working for him, and his company, and I never heard 
 ■one word of fault found in him by any of his employees, nor 
 has there ever been a strike among his men. It was all praise, 
 praise, praise ; I speak with personal knowledge. I have or- 
 ganized 475 insurance lodges, within the last 35 years, all in 
 the oil region, or nearby; thousands of Standard Oil Com- 
 pany workers have became members of my lodges, and all 
 with one accord praise John D. Rockefeller and the Standard 
 Oil Company as a whole. Is not this unparelleled — just 
 think of it ! A man at the head of 70,000 employees, and not 
 one of them finding fault with him. Could any but a Chris- 
 tian, from childhood up to old age, show a better record. The 
 fact that he — of his own accord — when but 16 years of age, 
 saved the old First Baptist church, of Cleveland, O., from 
 being sold, on a debt of $2,000) shows in what channel his 
 mind ran. The boy appointed himself as solicitor and raised 
 the money by subscription. Two years after this, at the age 
 of 18, he was elected as one of the trustees of this same 
 church. Then when the boy reached manhood and became 
 immensely wealthy, he gave millions, upon millions to the 
 
222 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM 
 
 cause of Christian education. Dear reader, how many men 
 can you think of who would have piled up these millions to 
 help hasten the day that would make them a billionaire (as 
 Mr. Rockefeller will be, if he lives a few years more, and don't 
 give his untold millions, all to the cause of Christianity, and 
 — rating the sufferings of humanity — as he has been doing). 
 Many a well meaning man would have put out these millions 
 on interest, and let them help to shorten the time coming to 
 the billionaire mark. But few men in this wicked world of 
 ours but would prefer the title of being the only billionaire 
 on this earthly ball to the title of being the largest giver to 
 the cause of Christianity. 
 
 Now reader, I think that you think, by this time, that Mr. 
 Rockefeller is paying me for this space in my book. I want 
 to tell you that he knows nothing about this, and no other 
 person but myself knows that I am scribling this. I am 
 writing this as no vindivation of anyone. I have always 
 thought deeply on this subject, and was filled with wonder, 
 why so many people will abuse a man who has done so much 
 good, and no harm, to them. Perhaps "the green eyed 
 monster" — jealousy — has something to do with it. Some say 
 that it (the Standard) is a great combine, and combines 
 are very wicked things. The old saying is, "Many men makes 
 light work." It is a plain question to the mind of any fair 
 thinking man, or woman, that if not the Standard combine, 
 people would be paying three or four times as much for refined 
 oil, today (by each using his little pile of cash independently 
 of all others), than they are now paying. 
 
 We all know that no man, individually, could have spent 
 the millions in bringing the business up to the point of per- 
 fection, that the Standard Oil combination has brought it to. 
 No one man in the United States had money enough to do it. 
 And look at the millions of money saved by the company 
 bringing order out of chaos. Years ago when a big well was 
 struck in new territory, down went the price of oil, taking all 
 but the strongest operators down with it. One well worth a 
 few thousand dollars would cause many millions of dollars 
 loss. Now since the Standard has spent millions in investigat- 
 ing, and experimenting, and figuring, no flucuations up and 
 down takes place and when the oil is run the cash for it is 
 ready instead of taking paper promises ahead six or eight 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 223 
 
 months, and many times the payee would not last as long as 
 the promise and all was gone ; and all this was done by courage 
 and fearlessness. It took both, to spend so many millions 
 when the company might wake up, any morning, and learn 
 that the production had ceased. No one knew to a certainty, 
 that there was any oil to be found, beyond the banks of Oil 
 creek, and it seems to my weak vision almost a miracle, that 
 John D. Rockefeller, always chose the right man to fill the 
 almost uncountable positions of his great company. Who 
 ever heard of an employee being "bounced" by the Standard 
 Oil Company. It is wonderful, indeed, that one man's 
 head can contain such an unlimited amount of discernment 
 His lieutenants were always wisely chosen. And now, as I 
 write, I pick up the Oil City Daily Derrick, and learn that 
 "yesterday John D. Rockefeller contributed to the straving 
 millions in China, through the Red Cross, $5,000." How many 
 hearts, both Christian, and heathen, with swell with thanks to 
 "the richest man in the world." While this $5,000 worth of 
 "the bread of life" is indeed saving the lives of those that are 
 at the point of death, by starvation. Is John D. Rocekefeller 
 worthy of praise or censure ? It will not puzzle the brain of 
 any woman or man to answer this cjuestion. 
 
 And now, to end this brief mention of the most successful 
 man on God's footstool, I will say that to me, it looks little 
 short of a miracle for any man to choose exactly the right 
 men to help organize this company (which is the wonder of 
 the whole world), and not make one mistake. It looks like 
 inspiration to select such men to found the structure and carry 
 it to its unprecendented success, as William Rockefeller (his 
 Drother), Henry M. Flagler, John D. Archibold, Henry H. 
 Rogers, Charles Pratt, Hon. John L. McKinney, Hon J. C. 
 McKinney, C. N. Payne, and many others that I could mention 
 if my book was large enough. 
 
224 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM 
 
 EDWARD WALKER 
 
 This cut is an excellent 
 likeness of Mr. Edward 
 W^alker, one of Warren's 
 old and successful busi- 
 ness men and prominent 
 and respected citizens. 
 "A From an oil pumper to 
 
 I one of the largest if not 
 
 the largest manufacturers 
 of ice cream in the State 
 of Pennsylvania explains, 
 briefly of the strides for- 
 ward Mr. Walker has 
 made and his arrival at 
 the business goal of life. 
 Pumping oil was inter- 
 esting but it did not appeal to Mr. AA'alker as the vocation he 
 (desired. He branched off into the printing business and with 
 S. E. Walker- his brother, present publisher of the Warren 
 Evening Times, operated a job ofhce for a short time. And 
 S. E. Walker, his brother, present publisher of the Warren 
 ren Evening Mirror, for it was so merged in 1882. Mr. Wal- 
 ker, the subject of this sketch, guiding its destinies for many 
 years as publisher and proprietor. 
 
 In Jamestown, Chautauqua county, N. Y., on the 21st day 
 of April, 1856, Mr. Edward Walker was born. The mother 
 dying in his infancy, he was taken to Delaware county and 
 reared on the farm of his uncle. When a young man he 
 came to Warren and has since made it his home. By hard 
 work, a natural business ability, honest principles and a pleas- 
 ing personality, Mr. Walker rose to the top rung of the lad- 
 der of business success. And he started at the bottom, too. 
 
 In a small house in the rear of his home, Mr. Walker 
 launched his ice cream business. As the volume of trade 
 grew, he expanded the plant by tearing down an old barn and 
 erecting a commodious factory. In 1904 the factor}^ was des- 
 troyed by fire. This was discouraging but it did not deter 
 Mr. Walker from his outlined onward march. Purchasing 
 property on Union street which included a building erected for 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 225 
 
 the suspended factory, he opened the factory which has grown- 
 through Mr. Walker's executive abihty, into the largest 
 producer of ice cream in this section. The question of a fresh 
 cream supply than bobbed up and became a knotty problem. 
 Mr. Walker met this condition with characteristic wisdom and 
 energy by purchasing the Foster farm, which is located on the 
 Warren- Jamestown traction line at Riverside and adjoins the 
 Prendergast farm in Chautauqua county. A creamery was 
 located on this farm, now known as the Walker farm. Mr. 
 Walker then, extensively known as an expert manufacturer of 
 ice cream, became associated with Jamestown, N. Y., parties 
 and the Jamestown Ice Cream Company was organized and is 
 now one of the largest factories in New York State. Mr. 
 Walker is president of that concern. This venture which 
 proved a very successful one, again resurrected the cream 
 supply problem and it was met squarely and unhesitatingly 
 as before by purchasing the Sugar Grove Canning Company's 
 plant and installing- therein a creamery and condensed milk 
 plant which is without doubt the finest in Western Pennsyl- 
 vania. The creameries, condensed milk plants and ice cream 
 factory here, together with his outside interests, makes Mr. 
 Walker one of the biggest dealers in this line of business in 
 this part of the country. 
 
 His factory in Warren is a handsome, three-story, brick 
 building, supplied with all the latest devices and machinery. 
 Many important pieces of equipment came from the fertile 
 mind of Mr. AValker himself, who has many good inventions 
 to his credit, among these being a brine freezer which was in- 
 vented in 1900. 
 
 The Walker Ice Cream Company, of W^arren, of which 
 corporation Edward Walker is president, supplies all the im- 
 portant trade centers with sweet cream, condensed milk and ice 
 cream. 
 
 15 
 
226 
 
 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 LEWIS KRAEER. 
 
 Lewis Kraeer, of Shef- 
 field, Pa., was born De- 
 cember loth, 1845, i" 
 Washington county, Pa. 
 He attended the country 
 school until he was 16 
 years of age, and then en- 
 listed in the 13th Regi- 
 ment Cavalry, Co. E, and 
 went to war. He wa.s 
 captured by the Confed- 
 erates in the battle of 
 Winchester and taken to 
 Libby prison, but was ex- 
 changed at the expiration 
 of 17 days. About this 
 time his father became blind and he was honorably discharged. 
 This was in the summer of 1864, and he returned to his home 
 in Washington county. 
 
 Mr. Kraeer was employed about three months as brakeman 
 and fireman on the P., C. & St. L. R. R., and then went to the 
 oil field at Smith's Ferry on the Ohio river, with only three 
 cents to his name. He served some time dressing tools and 
 drilling and then took a contract to drill a well. Oil was sell- 
 ing at $8.00 a barrel, but before the rig was completed it 
 dropped to 25 cents. Throwing up his contract, he went to 
 Parker's Landing and went to work by the day dressing tools 
 and drilling. He took what money he had accumulated and 
 started in business for himself, getting nothing but dry holes. 
 Not dismayed, however, he persevered, and in 1875 luck be- 
 gan to come his way. Up to the present time he has drilled 
 with uninterrupted success in Butler, Warren, McKean, For- 
 est, Elk, Cameron, Lycoming, Fayette and Tioga counties. Pa., 
 and Allegany county, N. Y. He also had a number of wells 
 in Ohio and Lidiana. Altogether our subject has drilled about 
 500 wells. He was a large property holder in Ohio but has 
 sold most of it. He also owned land in Lidiana but disposed 
 of it. At the present time he is a stockholder in the Pure Oil 
 Company. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 j.^/ 
 
 Mr. Kraeer has always believed that oil and g'as could be 
 found in paying quantities at a greater depth than had hither- 
 to been drilled. In 1909 he started a test well at Lower 
 Sheffield, hoping to find the Medina sand. The well is located 
 about 1,350 feet above sea level. 
 
 The following is log of what is known as the "Kraeer 
 Deep Well:" Casing, 280 feet; Clarendon sand, 1,079 ^^^t, 
 some oil in this sand which is 20 feet through ; some showing 
 of gas at 1,160 feet, not paying cjuantities. Cooper or Shef- 
 field sand at 1,392 feet; gas at 2,330 feet, not pa3'ing; a 
 sand at 2,700 feet, 35 feet thick; a sand at 3.3600 feet, 15 feet 
 thick; 600 feet of black shale; 150 feet of limestone, then 90 
 feet of shale, followed by 390 of limestone. At a depth of 
 4,905 feet, salt in a solid form for 95 feet; at 5,000 feet, a 
 mixture of sand and slate was run into, wdiich continued to a 
 depth of 5,250 feet; the well began caving, a lining of 4^-inch 
 casing was put in, 5,250 feet; after drilling about 30 feet, the 
 casing parted and dripped, and the well was plugged. This is 
 the deepest w^ell ever drilled in Northeastern oil fields, and in 
 fact but one deeper well has been drilled in the Eastern field. 
 
 Our subject is a Democrat with Independent tendencies. In 
 19 10, Mr. Kraeer was candidate for representative in State 
 Legislature of Pennsylvania, but was defeated. He takes his 
 defeat in a Bryan way. 
 
 He has traveled through England, Scotland, and France, 
 having made two trips to those countries. 
 
 Mr. Kraeer was married August 30, 1866 to Miss Hepay 
 Baker, of Washington county, Pa. Ten children were born to 
 them. Of these five are living : Samuel, Edward, Caroline, 
 Alda and Oliver. His second wife, whom he married in 
 1890, was Miss Flora Kelley, of Tidioute, Pa. They have 
 two children, Lois and Donald. 
 
 Our subject is a member of the Odd Fellows and Wanda 
 Club, of Sheffield. He is a member of the United Presbyterian 
 church and takes an active interest in the furtherance of 
 Christian work. Mr. Kraeer's love for home is among his 
 shining traits, and his devotion to his family makes him a 
 man worthy of the highest esteem. 
 
228 
 
 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 
 JAMES B. BORLAND. 
 
 James B." Borland, 
 managing editor of the 
 Franklin Evening News 
 and president of the com- 
 pany which publishes it, 
 is a native of Lawrence 
 county, but practically all 
 of his life has been spent 
 in Franklin. While his 
 newspaper does not date 
 back to the earliest days 
 of the oil industry, it has 
 been associated more or 
 less with the business, 
 particularly with the re- 
 fining and manufacturing 
 branch. 
 
 Li his early youth Mr. 
 Borland displayed an apt- 
 itude for the printing 
 business. In 1875, when 
 he was only 14 years of age, he and J. A. Morrison bought 
 a small hand press and printed cards on a small scale, continu- 
 ing in that business for about a year. In 1877 Mr. Borlarid 
 and C. L. Griffin, now a Franklin merchant, published the 
 Venango Star, a monthly newspaper. Later he and J. Ross 
 Barackman published the High School Monthly, and after 
 that passed out of existence Mr. Borland assisted in the pub- 
 lication of the French Creek Daily, a small boys' daily. It 
 was while he worked on this paper that he decided to start 
 a daily that was more pretentious. And so, on February 18, 
 1878, the Evening News was launched by him, Barackman 
 and James B. Muse, now editor of the Democratic Vindica- 
 tor at Tionesta. In a short time Barackman dropped out and 
 his place was taken by Alex. G. McElhinney. The News was 
 about the size of a small handbill, but it met with popular 
 favor and continued to exist, though it passed through many 
 financial storms. 
 
 „>*-''^ 
 
 t'y'i 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 229 
 
 Mr. Borland has had numerous partners in the enterprise, 
 but he has been associated with the paper since the day of its 
 first pubHcation. It is now published by a corporation and is 
 housed in what is conceded to be the finest newspaper build- 
 ing in any small city in the country. 
 
 The Evening News is distinguished from the fact that it is 
 perhaps the only boys' daily, that ever reached the proportions 
 of a real newspaper, at least one the size and influence of the 
 News. 
 
 SAMUEL PETERSON. 
 
 This picture represents - 
 one of the most remark- 
 able self-made men in this 
 part of the country. 
 Samuel Peterson was 
 born in Denmark and 
 when but 17 years old 
 came to this country 
 without capital or friends. 
 He attended school in 
 this country until he could 
 talk "United States," and 
 when 22 years of age he 
 commenced the manufac- 
 ture of handles a n d 
 spokes in a diminitive 
 little building at Irvine- 
 ton, Pa. His business in- 
 creased quite fast and it soon became necessary to look for 
 more room. He then in the year of 1882 built a large and 
 commodious factory at Warren, Pa., with all the modern con- 
 veniences. The business seemingly continued coming his way 
 and he was obliged to build two more large buildings at War- 
 ren. He also built handle factories at other places, one at 
 Titusville, Pa., one at Cochranton, Pa., and in the spring and 
 summer of 191 1 he built another at Campbell, Mo., this facil- 
 litates taken care of a large and growing business. He car- 
 
230 
 
 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 ries a very large stock of both rough and finished materials 
 and ships his goods to nearly all the states of the Union. Mr. 
 Peterson has of late years invested a large amount of money 
 in real estate and stock in other concerns. He is a director in 
 the Jefferson County Gas Co. and the Citizens National Bank. 
 He lives in one of the finest residences in Warren. He is also 
 some of a farmer having purchased four of the best farms in 
 the fertile valley of Broken Straw between Youngsville and 
 Pittsfield and fitted them up with buildings, stock and ma- 
 chinery of all descriptions. There are many wealthy men in 
 Warren, a majority of them having made their wealth by 
 speculation, but Mr. Peterson has made his money by close 
 attention to all the details of a growing industry. 
 
 HENRY R. ROUSE. 
 
 The portrait of this 
 little sketch is put here 
 in remembrance of one of 
 the most remarkable 
 men that ever made a 
 home in Warren County. 
 Henry R. Rouse was 
 born at Westfield, Chau- 
 taucjua County, N. Y., the 
 ninth of October, 1823. 
 He was the son of Sam- 
 uel D. and Sarah Rouse. 
 He received a good aca- 
 demic education in his na- 
 tive town, chiefly by his 
 own exertions. He grew 
 up in indigent circum- 
 stances. His diligence, honesty and kindness won the esteem 
 and help of his teachers, most of whom remitted his tuition 
 fees, but in after years he paid all with interest. He, before 
 reaching his majority, migrated across the State line and 
 reached on foot Warren, landing among the Penemites with 
 only one dollar left in his pocket. Finally he brought up at 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 231 
 
 Tidionte and taught school one term with g-reat success. Lum- 
 ber was money those days, and he took part of his wages in 
 shingles. This laid the foundation for a large fortune. When 
 about 19 years of age he became a citizen of Enterprise, 
 Southwest Township, Warren County, Pa., where he remain- 
 ed until the time of his death. At Enterprise he soon made 
 himself felt in the business world. He bought fine tracts of 
 pine and hemlock timber, built a large saw mill and cleared 
 the best farm in the vicinity. The people of this county was 
 not slow to recognize his good qualities, and they sent him to 
 the State Legislature, where he proved himself to be a full 
 equal of many older men with many years experience in legis- 
 lative matters. When the oil business was in its infancy he 
 was quick to take hold of some of the best territory on Oil 
 Creek. But this wealth caused his extremely sudden death. 
 Just when he began to realize that he was one of God's favored 
 few, he was called hence, and the manner of his death had 
 been unheard of up to that eventful moment. He drilled a 
 well on one of his leased farms at Rouseville, a new oil town 
 named in his honor, and when the pay was reached a tremen- 
 dous flow of oil and gas went skyward with a roar that filled 
 the valley of Oil Creek. At that time the tremendous force 
 of this now natural blessing was not understood and a large 
 crowd of men gathered around the great curiosity and some 
 one was smoking that most useless of all useless things, a dirty 
 cigar, and when the gas came in contact with that little roll of 
 tobacco leaves the greatest explosion of the whole oil region 
 took place. Many men were killed instantly, many were 
 maimed and scared for the balance of their life. Mr. Rouse 
 was hurled to the ground unconscious, but soon recovered an 
 upright position and ran with oil saturated and flaming 
 clothes, but soon became exhausted and fell to the ground. 
 Two men picked him up and carried him from the flames. 
 This greatest of oil country holocausts took place April 17, 
 1861. 
 
 Although suffering excruciating pain he was brought back 
 to consciousness, in a short time, and wonderful to state, he 
 realized that he was in a dying condition and proceeded to 
 make his will, inside of two hours after the accident took 
 place. 
 
232 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 Here is a copy of his will, which reads as if he had spent 
 days. and weeks on it in place of pain racked hours: 
 
 In the name of God, Amen, I, Henry R. Rouse, being as I 
 believe near my last moments, but sound in mind, do make 
 this my last will and testament : 
 
 I — My executors to be George H. Dimmick, Samuel D. 
 Rouse and Samuel Z. Brown. 
 
 2 — I bequeath to my father, Samuel D. Rouse, five hun- 
 dred dollars per year during his life time. 
 
 3 — Rouse & Mitchell hold the notes of A. Skinner and 
 Allen Wright for twenty-five hundred dollars. My half I be- 
 c[ueath to them. They are having hard enough times with- 
 out having to pay the note. 
 
 4 — All the leases of Rouse & Mitchell and Rouse, Mitchell 
 & Brown I want to have their leases at one-half the oil, and 
 I bequeath to them all my share of said rents over the one- 
 half the products of the wells, as now stipulated, to be paid in 
 their respective leases. 
 
 5 — I bequeath to George H. Dimmick two thousand dol- 
 lars for the use of himself and his mother to be paid out of the 
 residue when my estate is settled up. 
 
 6 — To John Mitchell I bequeath my black mare. 
 
 7 — I have the Sheriff's Deed of the store and dwelling- 
 house occupied by Thomas Moreau. I becjueath said property 
 to his two youngest children, Eva and Maggie, their father 
 to have the use of it until they come of age. 
 
 8 — I bequeath the residue of my estate after making some 
 other bequests to the Commissioners of Warren county, the 
 interest of it to be expended on the roads of said county. 
 
 9 — I have a little namesake, Harry Rouse, in East Granby, 
 Conn. I becjueath him five hundred dollars. I cannot think 
 of his name. His mother is the daughter of Joel C. Rouse- 
 Viets. 
 
 10 — David H. Taylor I bequeath to him five hundred dol- 
 lars. 
 
 12 — I bequeath to my aunt, Clara C. Hart, five hundred 
 dollars. 
 
 13 — I bequeath to Myron Waters five hundred dollars to 
 be paid when my estate is settled up. 
 
 14 — I also bequeath five hundred dollars to my hired boy, 
 Myron Dunham, to be paid when my estate is settled up. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 233 
 
 15 — I wish to change the object of the bequest contained 
 in No. 8 so as to give the benefit of one-half of it to the poor 
 of Warren county. It is given in trust to the County Com- 
 missioners for that purpose. 
 
 1 6 — To Ahiiedia Arnold I bequeath two hundred dollars. 
 
 17 — To Joel C. Rouse, of Saratoga, N. Y., I bequeath three 
 hundred dollars. 
 
 18 — I bequeath to Mrs. Moreau, wife of Thomas Moreau, 
 three hundred dollars. 
 
 19 — Two gentlemen carried me out of the lire. I bequeath 
 to them each one hundred dollars. 
 
 20 — Let my funeral be without display. No funeral ser- 
 mon to be preached. Bury me by the side of my mother at 
 Westfield. 
 
 21 — I have a beautiful picture, an engraving, in Hershfield's 
 store at Pittsburg. I bequeath it to William Hearst, of Mead- 
 ville. 
 
 22 — I bequeath my library to my father. 
 
 23 — I bequeath my wardrobe to Mrs. Thomas Moreau. 
 I have nothing more to add at present. I authorize all who 
 are here present to witness the foregoing as my last will and 
 testament. 
 
 In testimony that the foregoing is the last will and testa- 
 ment of Henry R. Rouse 
 
234 
 
 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 SILAS E. WALKER. 
 
 Silas E. Walker, pub- 
 lisher and owner of the 
 Warren Evening and 
 Weekly Times, practi- 
 cally a lifelong resident 
 of Warren, Pa., and 
 numbered among that 
 city's respected and prom- 
 inent residents, has strug- 
 gled step by step up the 
 rugged, steep path of life 
 toward that goal coveted 
 by all men — business suc- 
 cess. That he reached the 
 top is due to the predomi- 
 nating composition in his 
 makeup — perseverance, coupled with honest, upright and 
 straightforward qualities and a pleasing personality. From 
 laborer to contractor; from part owner of a job printing office 
 to the owner of the leading daily paper in Warren — this in a 
 nutshell chronicles the strides Silas E. Walker made in realiz- 
 ing ambitions. 
 
 Silas E. Walker was born near Deposit, Delaware county. 
 New York, and came to Warren in 1868. He was then 16 
 years of age. For several years he followed the plastering 
 trade. He heard the "call of petroleum'' and branched off 
 into the oil business. This was in 1876 when the first petro- 
 leum strike was made in this vicinity. For a year he labored 
 as an oil pumper and then went to Bradford, Pa. Following 
 a year's stay in that city he returned to this locality and set- 
 tled in Clarendon, engaged in the oil drilling business as a 
 contractor and was very successful. Mr. Walker thought 
 there was a good opening for him in the meat business and 
 opened a shop with George W. Cogswell as his partner. He 
 subsequently disposed of his meat interests and returned to 
 plastering and masonry and prospered as a contractor in those 
 lines. 
 
 It was in 1893 that Mr. Walker entered the newspaper 
 business. He launched the daily and weekly Democrat, sell- 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 235 
 
 ing- out in 1900 during which year he started the Warren 
 Evening- Times. In 1901 Mr. Walker rebought the Demo- 
 crat and closed its life. It was hard sledding with the Times 
 and the upward route was beset with difficulties, but one by 
 one they were overcome. The Times kept its head "above 
 water" and slowly grew in circulation and prestige, in the 
 present, 191 1, Mr. Walker adding- to his equipment a perfect- 
 ing press capable of printing twelve pages at one operation. 
 
 Silas E. Walker has been a moving spirit in politics as long- 
 as he has been a booster for Warren and AVarren county and 
 that has been always. As a Democrat he has labored contin- 
 ually for his chosen party and is recognized as one of the 
 leaders of this party in this section. Mr. Walker served as 
 deputy revenue collector under the administration of Grover 
 Cleveland, was one of the presidential electors chosen eight 
 years ago. Mr. Walker served as constable in Warren at one 
 time, also. 
 
 Mr. Walker is active in lodge affairs, never allowing the 
 opportunity to slip by of attending meetings of the organiza- 
 tions he belongs to, when possible to participate. 
 
 Summing up his life in a few words he has been a sterling- 
 citizen, a clean, scrupulous officer holder and a shrewd, sue-, 
 cessful man of business. 
 
236 
 
 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 <#*•■ 
 
 MANLEY W. BOVEE. 
 
 Manley W. Bovee was 
 born in Eag-le Town- 
 ship, Waukesha County, 
 Wisconsin, February 25, 
 1849. Went to Pennsyl- 
 vania in February, 1869, 
 and did his first work in 
 the oil business on the 
 Wood farm near Petro- 
 leum Center pumping for 
 Willis Irwin and Milton 
 Stewart. 
 
 Worked near Fag-undas 
 a short time in 1870 and 
 then went to McCray 
 Hill where he worked for 
 the same concern. Was 
 married to Mrs. Elizabeth W. McCool, August 29, 1871. 
 Have four children, all boys. 
 
 In the fall of 1872 moved to Clarion County, working near 
 Turkey City until June, 1873, at which time he and his 
 cousin, Frank A. Bovee opened a store at Pickwick, a new 
 town started there at that time. They ran the store until 
 1880. During this time they got into the oil business being 
 compelled to take old wells and every other thing too numer- 
 ous to mention in payment of accounts. They soon had wells 
 at Triangle and Shippenville and a lot of junk which they 
 shipped to McKean County and drilled on the Barse tract their 
 first wells that paid. 
 
 They closed out their grocery business in 1880 and from 
 that time devoted all of their time to producing oil, owning 
 properties in Warren, Forest, Venango and Butler counties. 
 Mr. Bovee in 1888 was elected county chairman of the 
 Democratic party, and in 1890 was nominated for the Senate, 
 his opponent being W. R. Crawford. Uncle Billy beat him 
 nicely. 
 
 In the fall of 1892 his name was placed on the ticket for 
 Assembly. Mr: John Hunter who had been nominated at the 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 237 
 
 convention withdrawing. There was no show for an election 
 as his opponent, the Hon. C. C. Thompson, who was very 
 popular. 
 
 Was nominated for the Assembly in 1898, his opponent be- 
 ins: Hon. Ed. Parshall. Mr. Bovee made a fio-ht this time but 
 Mr. Parshall won out by 84 votes, a Republican majority of 
 2,000 being reduced to those figures. 
 
 Mr. Bovee has taken an active interest in lodge affairs be- 
 longing to the Ancient Order of United Workmen since 
 March, 1873, ^*^w one of the old members. He is a member 
 of the I. O. O. F. of Grand Valley, Pa., the Knights of 
 the Maccabees, and for twenty 5^ears has taken an active part 
 in the Grange. He was master of the Pomona Grange for 
 four years of Warren County, Pa. 
 
 Has been located at Bartlesville for six years. 
 
 When Mr. Bovee left Grand Valley and took up his resi- 
 dence in Bartlesville, Grand Valley, Warren County, Pa., lost 
 one of its brightest citizens, and Bartlesville gained accord- 
 ingly. He belongs to many lodges and is as much at home in 
 one as any other. He will take any office in any lodge that 
 he belongs to and perform its duties from the start as well as 
 if he had always filled the chair of all of them. In fact he 
 seems to possess all the gifts that nature showers upon mortal 
 man. He is competent to successfully fill any office within the 
 gift of the people, and the only reason that he has not been 
 one of our law makers is that he belongs to a minority party. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 239 
 
 FOREST FURNITURE FACTORY. 
 
 Here is the picture of the Forest Furniture Factory of 
 Youngsville, Pa. It is one of the great money makers of the 
 above named borough. Its four stories is packed with tiie 
 finest and latest style machinery. The location is directly in 
 the forks of the Lake Shore and Pennsylvania Railroads, a 
 very desirable location. Lumber is shipped in and furniture 
 shipped out with no horse power recjuired. If the Lord had 
 made the lay of the land with a view to the building of just 
 such an industrial building, it would not be excelled as a loca- 
 tion for the purpose for which it was built. 
 
 Fire protection is perfect, as the deep blue waters of the 
 Broken Straw creek flows gently by, and in easy reach if ever 
 needed. The furniture made here is' of the latest style and 
 best make. When once used by dealers there is no more use 
 for traveling salesmen. Dealers send orders after a trial, 
 without solicitation. Orders are lying around the office in 
 great piles unfilled. The superintendent has just called in 
 three salesmen to save being swamped with business. 
 
 Amel Sagadahl is the very efficient superintendent, and 
 likewise an inventor of new machinery used in the manufac- 
 ture of furniture. He has secured a half dozen new patents 
 within the last two years that are much appreciated by manu- 
 facturers at large. The Forest factory now has nearly 10,000 
 scjuare feet of floor surface, room for 200 men, and in the 
 near future a new addition will be added. More room is a 
 real necessity to meet the growth of the business. 
 
 The officers of the company are as follows : President, 
 Amel Sagadahl; secretary and treasurer, Arthur Briggs; su- 
 perintendent, Amel Sagadahl ; bookkeeper, F. H. Hokinson ; 
 dn-ectors, Amel Sagadahl, F. E. Sherman, Jamestown, N. Y. ; 
 Wilson McGrew, Pittsfield, Pa. ; Edwin Swanson and W. J. 
 Mead. 
 
240 
 
 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 JAMES D. WOODARD. 
 
 James D. Woodard was 
 born in Youngsville, Pa., 
 October 11, 1861, and 
 when but a mere youth 
 commenced to learn the 
 tailor's trade with Charles 
 Anderson of this place. 
 He prospered from the 
 start. After a few years 
 he transferred his busi- 
 ness to Erie, Pa., and 
 after a successful period 
 of business he became a 
 useful citizen of Warren, 
 Pa. By this move Erie 
 was a loser and Warren 
 a gainer. For the last twenty-five years Warren has had 
 the benefit of his business genius. He prospered from his 
 first investment. Everybody recollects the Woodard & Lessor 
 Clothing Store, managed successfully by Mr. Woodard as 
 senior partner. After a few years Mr. Woodard became 
 sole owner and carried on the business with marked 
 success until he sold out the clothing business and be- 
 came a large stockholder in the Warren Street Railway which 
 interest he still retains at the present time and now holds the 
 important office of secretary of the company. Mr. Woodard 
 does not tie himself down to one business interest alone, but 
 is connected with many that goes to make Warren the most 
 beautiful city of its size found anywhere in the United States. 
 In addition to helping organize the Warren road, he is one 
 of the main stockholders in the Warren & Jamestown Street 
 Railway and was the main mover in this excellent enterprise. 
 And as James D. Woodard is of a makeup that cannot lie 
 down on his laurels on "easy street" and take a well earned 
 rest, he has recently built one of the best equipped theaters 
 found in Warren or any other town, and "just to keep his 
 hand in" he has recently bought the Humphry House prop- 
 erty at Jamestown, N. Y., and will soon build a play house 
 that will set the pattern for that flourishing city of the lake. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 241 
 
 He has now within the past month taken his family to the 
 big hotel to make their home in the fast growing Chautauqua 
 County city of Jamestown, N. Y. Since becoming an Empire 
 State resident, he has made many up-to-date improvements on 
 this far famed hotel. Nothing is left undone that goes to 
 make a first class stopping place for the best class of hotel 
 patrons, and with all departments rivaling the first class city 
 hotels the charge is no hig-her than the average country hotel 
 charges. In fact Mr. AVoodard has improved the house from 
 top to bottom without regard to cost, and best of all, he has 
 made his riches by close, intelligent attention to honest busi- 
 ness. No wild speculation has entered into his business. His 
 mature judgment has always been his sure helper. As "Jim" 
 bought the heart of the city, we expect to hear that he has 
 bought the whole circle around him ere many years. 
 
 JOHN W. AGREELIUS. 
 
 This is a picture of one 
 
 -t^Sii, of the self-made men of 
 
 borough of Youngsville. 
 
 By his strict attention to 
 
 honest business, during 
 
 his whole life, he has 
 
 'Vi^. .^ , earned that title. He was 
 
 '" ' ,$ ' born in Sweden, 74 years 
 
 v^^i ago, and came to this 
 
 ^.iv " country when 12 years of 
 
 age. On his arrival in this 
 
 .g,,„ country he made his home 
 
 ■ :'* with the family of Joseph 
 
 '^y* Mead, on Mathews Run, 
 
 for one year. At the age 
 of 21 years he struck out 
 for himself and commenced the business of peddling wooden 
 pumps all around this part of the country. He was very suc- 
 cessful at that business. When he had saved up a sufficient 
 pile of cash he built a shingle mill and was an adept at the 
 manufacture of shingles. He, after several years of success at 
 that business, was overtaken by a fire, with but a small amount 
 
242 ■ OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 of insurance, and the devouring element laid his little fortune 
 low. But, nothing- daunted, he soon rebuilt his shingle mill with 
 a stave and basket manufactory added. Then he built the best 
 brick store building in town, filled it with goods of different 
 kinds, and was soon on the road to mercantile success. He 
 has continued the selling of different kinds of goods up to the 
 present time. 
 
 When a young man he formed the acquaintance of Miss 
 Sarah Jane Dexyou, of Russellsburgh, and took her as a life 
 partner, and lived many happy years with her. The couple 
 reared four children, three girls and one boy. Alice is a Mrs. 
 Siggins, of Meadville; Grace is a Mrs. Rhodes, of Corry, and 
 Blanche is Mrs. Jobs, of Erie. Three highly cultured young 
 ladies, well mated, and happy. The son is a druggist of more 
 than ordinary ability. When graduating at Buffalo he stood 
 at the head of his class of 50 at both junior and senior ex- 
 aminations. The only time that feat has been done (the same 
 student taking both premiums) at Buffalo was when Ray V. 
 Agreelius done it, and Ray is now superintendent of his 
 father's big store and "is a chip off the old block" as far as 
 strict attention to business is concerned. 
 
 John W. Agreelius has been a useful citizen. He has been 
 a School Director, Postmaster, Trustee of the M. E. church 
 for many years. He was a Trustee 27 years ago and Presi- 
 dent of the Board when the first brick church was built in 
 town, and last year the old church was torn down and a 
 larger and new one built, and as a coincidence Mr. Agreelius 
 was, and now is. President of the Board of Trustees. He, 
 for many years, has been the competent teacher of Bible class 
 No. I and is the best Bible scholar in the M. E. Sunday 
 school. His wife died last year and a good Christian church 
 worker went to her Heavenly reward. To temper his lone- 
 someness, to a certain degree, John makes monthly visits to 
 his three married daughters at Erie, Corry and Meadville. 
 With all this he keeps a quiet eye on his many kinds of busi- 
 ness, and things pass off with no drawback. If John W. 
 Agreelius is not a self-made man, Warren county don't con- 
 tain one. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 243 
 
 JOHN WILLIAM WAITZ. 
 
 John William Waitz, of 
 Oil City, Pa., son of John 
 a n d Louisa (Melitz) 
 Waitz, was born August 
 13th, 1858, at Albany, 
 N. Y. His father moved 
 from Erie to Oil City, 
 Pa., in the palmy days of 
 the oil business, and there 
 spent the last days of his 
 life, dying in 1882, at the 
 age of 64 years. 
 
 Our subject attended 
 the common schools at 
 Oil City and Rouseville 
 until he was fifteen years 
 
 of age, when he went to Erie, Pa., and served as clerk in the 
 grocery store of French & McKnight for three years ; has al- 
 ways been studious and technical and is a self-made man. 
 
 When Johnny Steele, or "Coal Oil Johnny," was winning- 
 fame as a prodigal by spending the large income from the 
 wells on the farm now owned by our subject, Mr. Waitz was 
 a small boy at Rouseville, and he has grown up among the 
 derricks of this region, gaining thereby a practical knowledge 
 of the business, which has enabled him to prosper to such a 
 large extent. From boyhood Mr. Waitz has always been a 
 close student of oleaginous events, and upon general principles 
 there are but few better posted men in the business. This 
 thorough knowledge of the industry, together with an in- 
 domitable will, push, energy and enterprise, enabled him, in 
 assuming control of the famous Steele farm, when about 20 
 years of age and has since turned every available resource to 
 the best possible advantage. The old farm, which had grown 
 into a barren waste by years of neglect, was soon transformed 
 into a pleasing and sightly place. The old wells, too, which 
 had gone to rack and were barely making sufficient production 
 to cover the cost of operating them, were renovated, put in 
 first-class order, and by a systematized method of operation 
 the old producers were made to yield a handsome production. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 245 
 
 With characteristic conservativeness he drihed quite a large 
 number of new wells, all, or nearly all, of which proved pay- 
 ing investments. Mr. Waitz at present has 80 producing wells 
 on the Steele farm, and it is safe to say that he will take out 
 more money in oil than there was in the halcyon days of "Coal 
 Oil Johnny." Mr. Waitz has since added to his producing 
 area by the purchase of the west side of both the Archie and 
 John Buchanan farms, and which lay adjacent to the original 
 Steele farm. This, too, proved good territory, and on which 
 he has in operation 50 producing wells, making in the aggre- 
 gate 130 wells. These give a handsome production and is 
 considered one of the best paying properties along the placid 
 waters of historic Oil Creek. 
 
 His ventures in the Raymilton field and other localities 
 in Venango county have likewise proved to be successful, and 
 to him belongs the honor of discovering the northern extension 
 of the Raymilton field. He is also interested in various manu- 
 facturing concerns in Venango county, has mining interests in 
 Arizona and old Mexico. 
 
 In 1870, when his father moved from Oil City to Rouse- 
 ville, Johnny Steele had already squandered his fortune and 
 was employed as baggage master at the Rouseville depot ; and 
 when our subject, a boy of 14 years of age, went about the 
 depot, little did he think that some day he would be the owner 
 of the Johnny Steele farm and 250 oil wells. 
 
 Mr. Waitz is mechanicall}^ inclined. When but 18 years of 
 age, he conceived the idea of pumping oil wells by compressed 
 air. A large amount of experimenting had been done in the 
 way of raising fluid by compressed air, the fluid being raised 
 b_Y the spray, in the proportion of about ten parts of air to one 
 of fluid ; Mr. Waltz's idea was to raise the fluid in a solid 
 column, upon the theory that if a cubic foot of air was sup- 
 plied it would raise a cubic foot of oil. From this idea he has 
 originated the plant for flowing oil by use of compressed air 
 now in operation on his property on the Steele farm. Among 
 the leading features of this system is that whereby the air is 
 compressed through the cylinder of an air compressor from 
 one well to another which gives the air compressor the benefit 
 of the back air pressure from the wells as they are flowed, 
 thereby reducing the horse power required, the air being sup- 
 plied from well to well, or from one group of wells to another 
 
246 
 
 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 until all the wells on an oil farm have been daily discharged of 
 fluid. The air lines to the various wells, can, if desired, be 
 conducted underground, so that the land can be tilled and 
 utilized as farming land. 
 
 Mr. Waitz is a man who always makes himself familiar 
 with the details of his various enterprises, and is guided largely 
 by his own judgment. His hobby being to do all work in a 
 practical way, he has ever utilized his ideas to that end. 
 
 Birthplace of "Coal Oil Johnny 
 
 Politically, Mr. Waitz is an Independent Republican, and 
 has taken quite an interest in politics, and is a thirty-second 
 degree Mason. 
 
 Mr. Waitz was married in 1889 to Myrtle M. Neill, of Oil 
 City, and to them one son, William Neill Waitz, has been 
 born. 
 
 He is a member of the Presbyterian church, and is a lib- 
 eral contributor to charitable organizations. He has been quite 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 247 
 
 a traveler, having been very generally over the United States, 
 Europe and South America. 
 
 His advice to young men is : "Be studious and persevering, 
 and do not waste your earnings and time in frivolity; protect 
 your standing; be self-reliant and be careful in your selection 
 of associates." Personally Mr. Waitz is a man of rare per- 
 sonal charm and strict business integrity. 
 
 A few facts about this world-renowned farm will be some- 
 Avhat interesting to readers of the present day. 
 
 The farm was formerly owned by a Mrs. McClintock, a 
 widow. She adopted Johnny Steele when he was but a child. 
 She was burned to death by lighting a fire in a stove with coal 
 oil — the very thing that made the farm famous. The old 
 farm house is still in good shape, and is now occupied by Mr. 
 Waltz's teamster, and the office in which Johnny done his busi- 
 ness is now being used as a chicken coop. Quite a change 
 from the palmy days of "Coal Oil Johnny." 
 
 The writer of this had the pleasure of attending the first in- 
 stallation of Mr. Waitz in the Masonic Lodge at Rouseville 
 when he first entered the oil business. 
 
OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 249 
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Page 
 
 Hauling Oil on Sleds 7 
 
 Staging Before Railroads Were a Blessing to Oil City 9 
 
 Oil Creek Pond "Fresh" 12 
 
 Pithole Hotel and Livery Charges 14 
 
 General Burnside's Railroad 16 
 
 James S. McCray 19 
 
 The Grandins and J. B. White 24 
 
 Narrow Escape From Being a Bloated Bondholder 27 
 
 The Lumber Business in Parker City 29 
 
 John Galey and the Robinsons 33 
 
 Parker City 36 
 
 Oil City Sixty Years Ago 39 
 
 Jack McCray 43 
 
 A Greedy Landlord 46 
 
 When Oil City Was a Shanty Town 53 
 
 High Standard Officials Who Are Natives of Brokenstraw Valley. . . 58 
 
 Big Things Which Started in Western Pennsylvania 60 
 
 Could Not Give His Rocky Hillside Away 63 
 
 A Public Spirited and Successful Editor 68 
 
 Something About Gas 72 
 
 Youngsville's Prospects of Oil and Gas 75 
 
 Bad Oil Speculation 80 
 
 H. P. Kinnear and the I. O. O. F 83 
 
 Oil Region Inhabitants 88 
 
 Pickpockets 92 
 
 Old Time Lumbermen 95 
 
 New Times in Oildom 100 
 
 Old Time Oil Tanks 104 
 
 Starving Animals 110 
 
 Old Time Quadrille Band 114 
 
 Churches in the Old Times 118 
 
 God Bless the Swedes 123 
 
 Youngsville's Founders and Business Men 129 
 
 New Times in Oildom 137 
 
 "Dune" Karns and "Tom" King 141 
 
250 OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 
 
 CONTENTS— ( CONTINUED) 
 
 Warren's Big Men 145 
 
 West Virginia Experiences 151 
 
 Rambling Recollections of tlie Last Fifty Years in the Oil and 
 
 Lumber Country ". 158 
 
 Interesting Letters to the Author 164 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES. 
 
 Gen. Charles Miller 167 
 
 Hon. O. C. Allen 168 
 
 Hon. John L. McKinney 169 
 
 Hon. Chas. W. Stone 171 
 
 Hon. W. M. Lindsey 172 
 
 C. N. Payne 173 
 
 Frank M. Knapp 174 
 
 Capt. H. H. Cumings 175 
 
 Hon. J. C. McKinney 176 
 
 Hon. R. E. Dltkinson 177 
 
 A. J. Hazeltine 178 
 
 Hon. J. B. White 179 
 
 Cyrus A. Cornen 181 
 
 E. B. Grandin 186 
 
 George W. Dinsmoor 187 
 
 E. O. Emerson 190 
 
 A. E. Agrelius 182 
 
 George C. Priestley 191 
 
 McKinney's Cornet Band 195 
 
 N. P. Wheeler 196 
 
 Joseph A. Schofield 197 
 
 Youngsville's Fire Department 198 
 
 John C. Dinsmoor 200 
 
 Lansing Ditmars Wetmore 202 
 
 Lewis Emery, Jr 204 
 
 Levi Smith 209 
 
 Guy C. Irvine 213 
 
 Geo. E. Langdon 214 
 
 James Roy 215 
 
 Glenn W. Scofield 218 
 
 George H. Leonhart 219 
 
 A. E. Agrelius 220 
 
 John D. Rockefeller 221 
 
 Edward Walker 224 
 
OLD TIMES IN OILDOM. 251 
 
 Lewis Kraeer 226 
 
 James B. Borland 228 
 
 Samuel Peterson 229 
 
 Henry R. Rouse 230 
 
 Silas E. Walker 234 
 
 Manley W. Bovee 236 
 
 Forest Furniture Factory 239 
 
 James D. Woodard 240 
 
 John W. Agreelius 241 
 
 John William Waitz 243 
 
 FOURTH EDITION, COPYRIGHT 1912, BY GEO. W. BROWN. 
 
m 23 1913