A Guide to the Virginia Springs / Giving, in addition to the routes and distances, a description of the springs and also of the natural curiosities of the state

by J. J. Moorman

"Among the sand-rocks are found layers of slate and coal; this latter being also, by the same upheaving, made more conveniently accessible than in most other parts of the country.

"The salt water is obtained by sinking a tight curb, or gum, at the edge of the river, down about twenty feet, to the rock which underlies the river, and then boring into the rock. At first the borings did not exceed 200 feet in depth, but the upper strata of water being exhausted, the wells were gradually deepened, the water of the lower strata being generally stronger than the upper had ever been. Until 1842, none of the wells exceeded 6 or 700 feet in depth. Mr. Tompkins, an enterprising salt-maker, was the first to extend his borings to a thousand feet, or more. His experiment was attended with a most unexpected result. He had somewhat exceeded a thousand feet, when he struck a crevice in the rock, and forth gushed a powerful stream of mingled gas and salt water. Generally, the salt water in the wells was obtained in rock merely porous, and rose by hydrostatic pressure to the level of the river. To obtain the strong water of the lower strata, unmixed with the weak water above, it is the practice to insert a copper tube into the hole, making it fit tightly below by means of wrapping on the outside, and attaching the upper end to the pump, by which the water is drawn up to the furnaces on the river bank.

"When Mr. Tompkins inserted his tube, the water gushed out so forcibly, that instead of applying the pump, he only lengthened his tube above the well. The stream followed it with undiminished velocity to his water cistern, 60 feet above the level of the river.

"In the next place, he inserted the end of the spout from which the water and gas flowed, into a large hogshead, making a hole in the bottom to let out the water into the cistern. Thus the light gas was caught in the upper part of the hogshead, and thence conducted by pipes to the furnace, where it mingled with the blaze of the coal fire. It so increased the heat as to make very little coal necessary; and if the furnace were adapted to the economical use of this gaseous fuel, it would evaporate all the water of the well, though the quantity is sufficient to make five hundred bushels of salt per day. The same gentleman has since obtained a second gas-well near the former, and in all respects similar to it. Other proprietors of wells have also struck gas-fountains by deep boring. In one of these wells the gas forces the water up violently, but by fits, the gush continuing for some two or three hours, and then ceasing for about the same length of time. In another of these wells there has been very recently struck, a gas-fountain that acts with such prodigious violence as to make the tubing of the well in the usual way impossible; when the copper tube was forced down through the rushing stream of brine and gas, it was immediately flattened by the pressure; and the auger-hole must be enlarged to admit a tube sufficiently strong and capacious to give vent to the stream without being crushed. In another well, a mile and a half from any gas-well, a powerful stream of gas has been recently struck. It forces up the water with great power; but, unfortunately for the proprietor, the water is too weak to be profitably worked. It appears from this fact, that the gas is not inseparably connected with strong brine. When struck before good salt water is reached, it will operate injuriously, for no water obtained below it can rise at all, unless the pressure of the gas be taken off by means of a strong tube extending below it.

"Several wells have been bored to a depth equal to that of the gas-wells, without striking the gas; the source of which seems to lie below, perhaps far below, the depth of the wells. This light elastic substance, wheresoever and howsoever generated, naturally presses upwards for a vent, urging its way through every pore and crevice of the superincumbent rocks; and the well-borer's auger must find it in one of the narrow routes of its upward passage, or penetrate to its native coal-bed before it will burst forth by the artificial vent.

"The opinion just intimated, that the gas originates in deep coal beds, is founded on the fact that it is the same sort of gas that constitutes the dangerous fire-damp of coal-pits, and the same that is manufactured out of bituminous coal for illuminating our cities. It is a mixture of carburetted and sulphuretted hydrogen. Philosophers tell us that bituminous coal becomes anthracite by the conversion of its bitumen and sulphur into this gas, and that water acts a necessary part in the process. Whether the presence of salt water causes a more rapid evolution of the gas, the present writer will not undertake to say; but somehow, the quantity generated in the salt region of Kanawha is most extraordinary.

"It finds in this region innumerable small natural vents. It is seen in many places bubbling up through the sand at the bottom of the river, and probably brings up salt water with it, as in the gas-wells, but in small quantity. The celebrated burning spring is the only one of its natural vents apparent on dry land. This stream of gas, unaccompanied by water, has forced its way from the rocks below, through 70 or 80 feet of alluvial ground, and within 80 yards of the river bank. It is near this burning spring where the principal gas-wells have been found; but, twenty-five years ago, or more, a gas-fountain was struck in a well 200 feet deep, near Charleston, 7 miles below the burning spring. This blew up, by fits, a jet of weak salt water 20 or 30 feet high. On a torch being applied to it one night, brilliant flames played and flashed about the watery column in the most wonderful manner."

Leaving the Salines, we pass on to the Falls of Kanawha, 30 miles; to Gauley Bridge, 5 miles; and to the Hawk's Nest, 8 miles.

Marshall's Pillar, or the Hawk's Nest, as it is more generally called, is in Fayette County, on New River, within a few yards of the Kanawha Turnpike. This rocky precipice rises perpendicularly above the river, to the height of about 1000 feet. The following account of this great curiosity, given by a foreign traveller, is from Howe's Sketches of Virginia, to which work we are indebted for most of the matter respecting the curiosities of the state.

"You leave the road by a little by-path, and after pursuing it for a short distance, the whole scene suddenly breaks upon you. But how shall we describe it? The great charm of the whole is connected with the point of sight, which is the finest imaginable. You come suddenly to a spot which is called the Hawk's Nest. It projects on the scene, and is so small as to give standing to only some half dozen persons. It has on its head an old picturesque pine; and it breaks away at your feet, abruptly and in perpendicular lines, to a depth of more than 1000 feet. On this standing, which, by its elevated and detached character, affects you like the monument, the forest rises above and around you. Beneath, and before you, is spread a lovely valley. A peaceful river glides down it, reflecting, like a mirror, all the lights of heaven—washes the foot of the rocks on which you are standing—and then winds away into another valley at your right. The trees of the wood, in all their variety, stand out on the verdant bottoms, with their heads in the sun, and casting their shadows at their feet; but so diminished, as to look more like the pictures of the things than the things themselves. The green hills rise on either hand and all around, and give completeness and beauty to the scene; and beyond these appears the gray outline of the more distant mountains, bestowing grandeur to what was supremely beautiful. It is exquisite. It conveys to you the idea of perfect solitude. The hand of man, the foot of man, seem never to have touched that valley. To you, though placed in the midst of it, it seems altogether inaccessible. You long to stroll along the margin of those sweet waters, and repose under the shadows of those beautiful trees; but it looks impossible. It is solitude, but of a most soothing, not of an appalling character—where sorrow might learn to forget her griefs, and folly begin to be wise and happy."