Part 26

Petroleum wells can be “salted” or “baited,” just as gold or other mines can be salted, and in the early days of the oil fever, the baiting of petroleum wells was by no means an uncommon thing. Sometimes it would be done by one of the owners of a well in order to defraud other owners. For instance, Smith and Brown have entered into partnership to put down a well. They join their money together, buy the necessary drills and machinery, and go to work. The well is down one or two hundred feet. Smith gets tired of it. He knows that Brown has more money, and so thinks that he will sell out. While Brown is asleep, Smith gets a barrel or so of petroleum, and pours it into the well. Next morning, when they go to work, the condition of the hole is tested as usual, and of course there are indications of petroleum. If a barrel has been poured into the hole it is filled for quite a long distance. Smith has taken care to be away at the time, and appears in perfect ignorance. If Brown is honest he will tell Smith, on his reappearance, of the rich supply they have found; but the chances are two to one that Brown will say nothing, except to suggest carelessly that the well is not very promising, and ask Smith what he will give for his share. Smith says, with equal carelessness, “I don’t want to buy, but I will sell my interest for three thousand dollars.”

Perhaps he puts it at a higher figure. He knows the length of Brown’s purse, and goes for its contents. The result is, that Brown secretly chuckles over his speculation, and buys the well.

Smith goes on his way rejoicing, and Brown, still more rejoicing, stays where he is. He knows that a few inches more of depth to the well will yield abundant oil, and he works away very earnestly; but somehow he keeps on drilling for a long time, and at last awakens to the consciousness that he has been sold.

A great many petroleum wells have been salted and sold in this way, but it sometimes happens that the would-be swindler gets the worst of his bargain. I knew one case, in 1863, where a man baited a well in the above way, and sold it. He laughed that evening over his sharp trick; but he laughed less the next morning, when he passed the well and saw that the tools had been withdrawn, and the well was flowing at the rate of three hundred barrels a day. A few hours after the purchasers entered upon their work, they struck oil and were happy.

[Sidenote: A NEAT SWINDLE.]

A trick that has been practised in the oil regions to some extent is to convert a well which has no oil in it into a genuine flowing well. I have known this to be done by conducting a pipe underground from a tank at a genuine well a few hundred yards away. The pipe opens into the baited well, and it can readily be seen that with a good “head” on the pipe the well will be a perfect flowing well, to all intents and purposes. Men are engaged in barrelling the substance, and a visitor can see with his own eyes the amount of the yield. If he wants to buy a well, nobody has any great desire to sell, and he may have difficulty in buying the whole thing outright; but he can get an interest in it for a comparatively low figure. Sometimes he may buy one man’s interest, and then another man’s, and he thinks he has struck a very fine bargain. But during the night, after his purchase, the oil ceases flowing, and he finds that his property is worthless.

Another swindle of the same sort is to have a tank filled with oil, and a pipe run through one of its supporting posts, and under ground into the well. The pumping machinery is kept at work, and it may be pumping, say, at the rate of one hundred barrels a day. But all the time that the pump is working, the oil is running into the well, and it may run in and be pumped out again and again. The operation is a simple one, and well calculated to deceive.

[Sidenote: FRAUDULENT OIL COMPANIES.]

A great many petroleum companies were organized at one time, which had no existence beyond the paper one that they had in New York and other cities. Some of these companies gave most brilliant promises. I remember one which printed a flaming prospectus, and announced that there was room on its territory for three thousand first-class wells. No one could doubt the truth of this assertion, but its territory happened to be on the top of a mountain, where three hundred thousand wells might have been sunk without finding a drop of oil. The projectors of this concern sold a great deal of stock, but I believe they never declared a dividend of a single dollar, or even took the trouble to sink a well. Their money was made by defrauding their patrons rather than by doing any work in an honest way. Millions of dollars were sunk in oil speculations whose investors never obtained any return whatever. The public heard of the wells that yielded enormously, but they never heard of the thousands of wells that never amounted to anything.

So great was the rage for oil speculation during the height of the fever, that a well would be sunk where there was the least chance or prospect of obtaining oil. Suppose a man found a spring of pure water; he might pour a gallon or so of oil on the surface, and then carelessly, and with apparent innocence, lead a stranger to the vicinity. The stranger soon smells the oil, examines the water, and buys the spring at a high price.

One day a farmer broke a kerosene lamp in his cellar. A few hours later he admitted a stranger who wanted to buy some potatoes. The stranger discovered the oil, forgot about the potatoes, and immediately opened negotiations for buying the house and the land on which it stood. He paid about three times as much as they were worth, and the farmer went away happy.

A man, who thought crude petroleum a good remedy for freckles, one day bathed his face in that article, and lay down to sleep. As he tells the story, he was waked in half an hour by a New York speculator who was trying to sink a shaft into his ear.

[Sidenote: THE SPRING THAT FLOWED WHISKEY.]

A story is told in California of a man owning a farm which he wanted to sell. He had heard of the petroleum dodge, and thought he would try the same plan in another way. So one day, when a lot of speculators from San Francisco were at his house, he poured a gallon of whiskey into a small spring, and then led the speculators in that direction. The farmer spoke of the spring, said that he made no use of it, as he had an abundance of water near his house. He had never observed the spring except to remark its peculiar color. He roused the curiosity of the strangers so that one of them tasted the water, winked at his neighbor, and stepped aside. Before night the farmer had sold his place at a high price, and the speculators had organized a company for supplying the California market with an excellent article of whiskey cocktail. But somehow their enterprise never succeeded.

The immense fortunes made from petroleum speculations were almost marvellous; a man might be poor to-day and worth a million dollars to-morrow. In the morning he could not raise enough money to buy a breakfast, and at noon his credit would be good for the purchase of a first-class steamship. A man might be working as a day laborer this week, and his wife would be taking in washing at a dollar a dozen. Six days later he would be a millionnaire clad in broadcloth and fine linen, and wearing a diamond like a calcium light, while his wife would be arrayed in silks of the most costly character, and wearing them as uneasily as a bull-dog wears a pair of trousers tied around his neck.

A good story is told of a woman one day selecting some diamonds in a jewelry store on Broadway. Two other women were standing near and observing her motions. One of them suggested to her friend, “Evidently shoddy.”

The diamond purchaser raised her eyes for a minute, and said, “No, madam; petroleum.”

A great many stories are told of a youth in the oil regions who was brought up on a farm, and who, for a year or more, after the outbreak of the oil fever, was driving a team at fifteen dollars a month. He had a grandmother, as most young men have, but she was unlike a great many grandmothers, as she was enormously rich. She owned a large farm, and leased it to speculators who wished to search for oil. She always stipulated for half the oil, and her farm was so productive that she had a magnificent income, and accumulated money at a very rapid rate. A common report was, that she had eleven barrels and four trunks full of greenbacks.

[Sidenote: THE MILLIONNAIRE YOUTH.]

One day she did as all good grandmothers do,—she died. The youth, whom I will call John, as that was half his name, became heir to her vast estate. He dropped into two millions of cash, and into the farm, which yielded about two thousand dollars a day. He had never had so much money before in all his life. Ox-driving at the compensation he received would require a long time for the accumulation of such a fortune.

He thought the matter over, and determined to have a good time. He engaged several youths of his acquaintance to assist him in wasting his substance in riotous living. The party went first to Cleveland. At the railway station they had some dispute about a carriage, and so John bought a carriage to take them to their hotel. When he reached the hotel he concluded that that was not the kind of carriage he wanted, and so gave it away. He secured all the best rooms in the house, ordered the best supper the proprietor could furnish, and the party went to bed on the floor as drunk as a quartette of badgers. They rose the next morning with very large heads on their shoulders, and were occupied during the forenoon in removing their Mansard roofs by means of soda water and cocktails.

John sent for the best team in Cleveland, and obtained a four-horse one, with a carriage gorgeous enough for a third-rate emperor. He picked out one of the drivers round the front of the hotel, told him they were going to stay in Cleveland a few days, and if this driver would take the team and drive them round during their stay, he should have the whole concern, at their departure, for his trouble.

John next proposed to charter a grog-shop, and another institution which shall be nameless, for the exclusive use of himself and friends during their stay. They made things lively for a few days, and then left for Philadelphia by way of Buffalo.

They stopped at Niagara Falls, and proposed hiring a boat-load of people to be sent over the falls for their amusement; but, somehow, they could not find anybody willing to make the jump. John wanted to buy the Falls and run them as a private show, but he changed his mind and continued his journey.

[Sidenote: WASTING HIS SUBSTANCE.]

In Philadelphia, and subsequently in New York, the party was guilty of various extravagances, and sometimes displayed absolute ingenuity in getting rid of their money. On one occasion they treated a party of fifty or more street laborers to champagne, filling each of them up to his chin, and sending them home blind drunk. They bought horses and carriages to give away next day. They chartered hotels and other public resorts for their exclusive occupation. They used to give away ten-dollar bills, and sometimes hundred-dollar bills, as gratuities to servants.

John seemed to be troubled to know what to do with his money, and it gave him more anxiety than he was ever blessed with during the days of his ox-driving experience. I believe he died after a year or so of this new life. It was too much for him; he could endure poverty, but he could not enjoy or endure such an accumulation of wealth.

There was a case similar to his of a young man growing suddenly rich through petroleum, who started on a riotous career, and managed to get heavily in debt. The wells gave out, and left him without money, and no prospect of obtaining any. In a year from the time of his becoming so suddenly wealthy, he was at work again as a day laborer, and meditating upon the uncertainties of life in the oil regions.

On one occasion an oil speculator came to New York with fifty thousand dollars or more in cash, and claiming that he had a flowing well yielding two hundred barrels a day. In less than a fortnight he had gambled away his money, sold his wells, and the last I saw of him he was on his way to the station-house for default of paying the amount of his hotel bill. He was kept there a short time, and then released. I believe the hotel never received anything from him.

A great many extravagances have been committed by the petroleum aristocracy. Persons suddenly raised from poverty to affluence are nearly always anxious to effect an entrance into society. They take fine houses, and sometimes they manage to get people of repute to visit them, though not often.

[Sidenote: GETTING UP A PARTY.]

Three or four years ago a family that had suddenly grown rich determined to give a party that should introduce them to society. They made preparations, and sent out a great many cards of invitation. They ignored their former acquaintances altogether. They selected the names of their guests from the City Directory, taking those that were prominent in the social world. They even pretended to an aristocratic descent, and I believe their card of invitation bore a crest of some sort or other.

The evening of the entertainment came. Madame, almost smothered in silks, with a large amount of store hair, and decked with diamonds enough to set up a jewelry store, was all ready to receive her guests. The daughters were in their best, and expected to make a dozen conquests apiece in the course of the evening. A magnificent supper had been prepared, and a troupe of servants were awaiting the commencement of their duties. Eight o’clock was the hour fixed for the party.

At eight o’clock there was not a guest in the house. “Surely,” said Madame, “they will be here very soon.” Half past eight o’clock came. Nobody. Nine o’clock. Nobody. Half past nine. Nobody; and then ten o’clock, and still Nobody. It was then the great truth stood revealed that the party was a failure.

The servants, who had been standing about with their tongues in their cheeks, were commissioned to eat what they could of the gorgeous banquet, and the aspirants to social honors smothered their sorrow, and made no more attempts, for that season at least, to get into society.

XXIII.

WINE AND BEER CELLARS.

WINE CELLARS.—HOW THEY ARE MADE.—PLACES FOR STORING BEER.—THEIR EXTENT.—THE GREATEST WINE CASK IN THE WORLD.—ITS CAPACITY.—PECULIARITIES OF WINE AND BEER VAULTS.—VISITING A CELLAR IN POLAND.—CURIOUS SIGHTS.—THE ANTIQUITY OF THE BOTTLES.—WHAT A VISITOR DID.—THE RESULT OF TOO MUCH WINE.—A DANGEROUS BRIDGE.

A German resident of New York, engaged in the manufacture of beer, visited the excavations at Hallett’s Point, near the upper end of Manhattan Island, and, on viewing the large space which had been dug out of the solid rock, exclaimed, “What a capital place for storing lager beer.” Many a wine and beer manufacturer has made the same remark on visiting the Mammoth Cave, or other huge caverns. The best places for storing malt or vinous liquors are under ground, for the reason that an equal temperature can be maintained at all times; summer’s heat and winter’s cold make but very little change of the thermometer in the depths of the earth.

[Sidenote: PLACES FOR WINE UNDER GROUND.]

In various parts of the world, particularly in Europe, there are vast underground spaces specially designed for the storage of wine, beer, and similar beverages. Nearly all these articles require to be kept some time before they are fit for use; especially is this the case with wines, some of which improve steadily during a year, or for ten, or twenty, fifty, or it may be for a hundred, or five hundred years. Some of the wine cellars of Europe have been hewn out of the solid rock, or dug out of the solid earth, at vast expense, for the simple purpose of storage. Other wine cellars were, originally, quarries, or mines; and after they had been abandoned by the miners, they were taken up by the wine and beer manufacturers, and adapted to their present uses. The same is the case in America. Reference is made elsewhere to the cellars of Dubuque, Iowa, which are nothing more nor less than exhausted lead mines. At several places on the Mississippi and Missouri Rivers there are cellars which originally were quarries or mines. Their natural treasures were taken from them, and they are now filled with artificial ones.

In California, particularly in the Sonoma Valley, are some wine cellars which have been dug out of the rock for no other purpose than for that of storage. Some years ago I visited one of these establishments with a small party, and the proprietor, in order to give us an idea of the temperature, shut us up a little while, and left us to ourselves. The place was not cold, but it was cool compared with the outer atmosphere, and we very soon began to sneeze. Had we been kept there for any length of time, I suspect that we would have had sore throats and all that sort of thing; but they were prevented by the select assortment of liquids which the wine manufacturer supplied to us with such liberality that some of his visitors’ legs became very much entangled, and refused to perform the duty usually required of them.

All through Europe, and particularly in France and Germany, there are cellars of great extent. The wine makers of France and Germany are able to store away thousands of casks, and other thousands of bottles, every year without any difficulty. The same is the case with the beer makers of North and South Germany, particularly in the vicinity of Munich and Vienna. There is one wine cellar on the Moselle, which is said to be capable of containing a million bottles and twenty or thirty thousand casks of wine at one time, and I have heard of one wine cellar even larger than this. The capacity of the beer vaults of Munich is, I think, greater than that of the German and French wine vaults. It is certain that a storage capacity sufficient to supply the annual consumption of beer in Munich, Vienna, or Berlin, must approach the dimensions of a small city. It is well known that the average German can get outside of a great quantity of beer in the course of twelve months. As an illustration, I may mention that the day before writing this paragraph I was told of a strike among some German laborers in an establishment near New York. Their strike was not for wages, but for beer. They were satisfied with the pay they received, but not with the quantity of beer furnished to them. Their employer allowed them two five-gallon kegs daily for every three men, and in their strike they demanded a daily keg of beer per man. They said that two thirds of a five-gallon keg were not sufficient, but they would manage to get along with five gallons each per day. The employer agreed with them, and they resumed work as soon as he consented to their demand.

[Sidenote: FAMOUS BEER DRINKERS.]

It is on record that one individual German drank one hundred and fifty glasses of beer per day, and I believe there was an instance in Cincinnati, a few years ago, where a German consumed, on a wager, one hundred and eighty-eight glasses between sunrise and sunset of a summer’s day. It is not fair to take these ambulatory beer casks as an indication of the drinking abilities of the Teutons, but it may safely be assumed that an ordinary community of Germans can get outside of an average of twenty glasses a day per man without feeling it.

[Sidenote: THE GREATEST WINE CASK.]

It is not my province to describe the process of making beer or wine, as the work is mainly performed above ground, but simply to allude to the space where these beverages are stored. I have visited a fair proportion of them in various parts of the world, and they are all pretty much alike. They are simply large vaults or caves, sometimes arched over to prevent the falling in of the earth, while in other cases they are cut out of the solid rock, and require no arching. Sometimes a wine cellar will consist of a single vault, with regular pillars or arches sustaining its roof, while in other cases there will be a great many galleries, or tunnels, running off in different directions. Sometimes the casks containing the wine or beer will be of a size that will permit of their being rolled about, while in other cases the casks or tuns will be so large that they always remain stationary, and are filled and emptied without being moved from their places. An example of this is the celebrated tun of Heidelberg, constructed in 1751, and capable of containing forty-nine thousand gallons. It has been filled but two or three times since its construction, and the process of filling occupied on each occasion two or three weeks. It is sufficiently large to allow the erection of a ball-room upon it, and several festivals and dances have been held there. It is the largest cask which has ever been made, or probably ever will be made.

The preparation and preservation of wine require great care, and, above all things, an even temperature. Many a cask of wine has been spoiled by being kept too hot or too cold; and this is one reason why the preference is shown by wine makers for underground places of storage. Apart from this fact is the saving that can be made by utilizing the space under the earth where the surface is of great value.

As before stated, a visit to one wine cellar is very much like a visit to another. The stranger is led or guided among rows of casks and bottles, and sometimes his underground journey will amount to a mile, or two or three miles, of linear distance. He wonders how the demand can be so great for this material, just as a countryman wonders, as he walks through the market of a large city, how all the beef, pork, and mutton can find purchasers. He may go through a market and think the supply exceeds the demand, just as when he walks the streets for an hour or two, and sees the crowds of people, he will wonder where all this mass of humanity can find sufficient food. In the same way a person unfamiliar with the business may have alternate surprises about the supply and consumption of wine.

[Sidenote: A WINE CELLAR IN WARSAW.]

One of the first wine cellars which I visited in Europe was in the famous city of Warsaw, Poland. I had entered Europe by the back door, as it were, coming from Asia over the Ural Mountains; and consequently the first ancient city I found where there was any wine trade of significance was Warsaw. A travelling friend and myself were under the guidance of an officer serving on the staff of the governor of Poland, and while pointing out the curiosities of the city, he suggested taking us to one of the oldest wine cellars in Europe. I think he said there were a few, but only a few, which had greater antiquity.

Our party was small,—only three of us altogether,—and we drove in a single carriage to a very unattractive place in the Jews’ quarter of Warsaw. We entered a narrow and rickety-looking building, which gave no promise of the wealth stored away beneath it. The officer was acquainted with the proprietor of the place, so that we easily obtained permission and escort for our underground journey. The proprietor himself took charge of us, and was accompanied by a servant to assist in showing us round, and possibly to see that we did not stow away in our pockets any of the valuable bottles in the cellar.