John Robert Shaw, Well-Digger

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Estimated time to read:

5–8 minutes

I have a spe­cial fond­ness for authors who make me laugh.  Among my favorites are P. G. Wodehouse, Gerald Durrell (broth­er of more famous Lawrence), David Sedaris, and Bill Bryson.  Bryson’s Walk in the Woods led me to a whole series of his auto­bi­o­graph­i­cal come­dies.  He intro­duced the mis­fit Katz, with whom he lat­er hiked the Appalachian Trail, in the uproar­i­ous­ly fun­ny Thunderbolt Kid.

One hilar­i­ous read I stum­bled on was writ­ten at a sur­pris­ing­ly ear­ly date.  A Narrative of the Life & Travels of John Robert Shaw, the Well-Digger was pub­lished in 1807 by John Bradford, edi­tor of the Kentucky Gazette.  Born in England, Shaw joined the British army and came to America in 1778.  He described his plights with the mil­i­tary from Rhode Island to South Carolina.  He stayed on after the war, try­ing des­per­ate­ly to assim­i­late in the fledg­ling nation.  Our pre­em­i­nent his­to­ri­an, Dr. Thomas D. Clark, praised the book:

“The peri­patet­ic Yorkshireman found his way to Lexington, where for­tune, but not fame, avoid­ed him.  Shaw was a man who found solace in a bot­tle.  Well dig­ger, turn­pike work­er, dam builder, and faith­less hus­band, he lived out his tur­bu­lent life in and near Lexington.”

The best way to get acquaint­ed with Shaw is to sam­ple his remark­ably acces­si­ble prose.  In one episode after the war, he went on a drink­ing spree with a friend in Philadelphia.  At the “Sign of the Three Jolly Irishmen,” they start­ed off with a gal­lon of wine and a quart of whiskey, “in the pun­ish­ment of which we were joined by half a dozen fine girls with a piper and fiddler.” 

The group broke up late that night “pret­ty well done over.”  He con­tin­ued, “Being deter­mined to enjoy the plea­sures of the night as well as the day, I pro­ceed­ed with my doxy to her lodg­ings” and “was invit­ed upstairs into a room, with a good bed and oth­er­wise ful­ly equipped for enter­ing on the wars of Venus.”  There he would learn that his lassie was a trickster:

“But alas! how dis­ap­point­ed were my hopes; for when ready to jump into the arms of my fair one, I unfor­tu­nate­ly, at her request, stopped to put the can­dle out, when lo! the floor sunk, and in a few sec­onds I found myself land­ed in a back street, with no oth­er cov­er­ing to guard me against the inclemen­cy of a cold win­ter night than my shirt.”

Each chap­ter begins with an out­line of its con­tents:  “Chapter 9.  The author pro­ceeds to Frankfort—experiences a vari­ety of vicis­si­tudes and works at dif­fer­ent places until he arrives at Lexington; at which place and its vicin­i­ty he meets with a num­ber of adven­tures, par­tic­u­lar­ly that of see­ing a vision, and like­wise the anx­i­ety of mind which he laboured under from an excess of spir­i­tu­ous liquors and the result thereof—swindled by Prothroe—was blown up—loses the use of one eye—proves the infal­li­bil­i­ty of ble­ton­ism [water divin­ing or dowsing]—blown up a sec­ond time—gets married—has a son—a daughter—another son, etc.”

In his adopt­ed pro­fes­sions of quar­ry­ing and well dig­ging, Shaw used quan­ti­ties of black pow­der to “blow rock” and suc­ceed­ed in blow­ing him­self up mul­ti­ple times.  In 1806, the Kentucky Gazette pub­lished his obituary:

“John R. Shaw, of Lexington, killed Saturday, August 17, 1806, by a blast being used in a well for Lewis Sanders, near Lexington.”

To para­phrase Mark Twain, reports of Shaw’s demise were great­ly exag­ger­at­ed.  However, he came very close.  This was the fourth time he had blown him­self up, and his injuries were described by his attend­ing physi­cian, Dr. James Fishback, in a let­ter to the Gazette.  Shaw suf­fered a frac­tured skull, a bro­ken eye sock­et, bro­ken shin bone, a left arm bro­ken with the loss of two fin­gers, right arm bro­ken in two places, as well as “con­sid­er­able injury of the hand, the skin upon the breast, and stom­ach was very much bruised and cut, from which I inferred he was lean­ing near­ly over the blast.  The sur­face of his remain­ing eye ball was con­sid­er­ably bruised and torn by a num­ber of small pieces of stone, in addi­tion to the above, his face was enor­mous­ly swelled and cov­ered with blood, gun­pow­der and dirt, so that it was utter­ly impos­si­ble to rec­og­nize the lin­ea­ments of John Robert Shaw.” 

In spite of his dire injuries, Dr. Fishback not­ed that “ulti­mate­ly the wounds healed in the most friend­ly manner.”

Shaw’s sto­ry does have a Clark County con­nec­tion.  In the course of his trav­els, he did a job for Hubbard Taylor at Spring Hill on present-day Colby Road.

“I then pro­ceed­ed on to Mr. Hubbard Taylor’s, liv­ing in Clarke coun­ty, for whom I dug a well and for which he hon­ourably paid me.  I then went on to Strode’s sta­tion, where I spent all my money.”

At Strode Station, he met up with sev­er­al old acquain­tances.  They pur­chased “goods in Cock and Lytle’s store to the amount of eigh­teen pounds.”  This is the first report I have seen of this store, pre­sum­ably locat­ed at Strode Station, which was then a small com­mu­ni­ty west of Winchester. 

Afterwards, Shaw “jogged on with them to Clark court house, and there com­menced a roar­ing frol­ic, with a set of as jovial fel­lows as ever sat over a half pint of whiskey, amongst whom was a jol­ly Irishman, who cut as many didos as I could.”

"The wonderful recovery of JOHN R. SHAW"

At the con­clu­sion of their frol­ic, Shaw described an unpleas­ant exchange with John Baker:

“I exchanged all my goods for whiskey; then turned to job­bing about the town, and shew­ing Mr. [John] Baker, the pro­pri­etor of the land, a num­ber of places where water may be found.  He kept me there a con­sid­er­able time, endeav­our­ing all in his pow­er to acquire of me some knowl­edge of ble­ton­ism, after which he sent me off with­out either fee or reward.”

In con­clud­ing his book, Shaw recount­ed the price he had paid for acquir­ing some mate­r­i­al success. 

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“In con­se­quence of accu­mu­lat­ing prop­er­ty [in Lexington] I have been equal­ly if not more dis­abled in bat­tle­ing with the rocks than the gal­lant [Lord] Nelson has been in bat­tle­ing against the ene­mies of his coun­try, as I have lost no less than one eye, four fin­gers, one thumb and sev­en toes.”

(Lord Horatio Nelson was wound­ed sev­er­al times in com­bat, los­ing most of one arm in the unsuc­cess­ful attempt to con­quer Santa Cruz de Tenerife and the sight in one eye in Corsica.  He was shot and killed dur­ing his final vic­to­ry at the Battle of Trafalgar in 1805.)

At the end of his book, Shaw list­ed the names of sub­scribers who pur­chased a copy of his Narrative.  There were twen­ty-sev­en from Clark County, Hubbard Taylor among them.

Shaw con­tin­ued dig­ging wells and adver­tised reg­u­lar­ly in the Kentucky Gazette.  The lat­ter were described by a biog­ra­ph­er as done “in the shape of the most exe­crable poet­ry, ‘writ­ten by him­self.’”  Sadly, it was the Gazette that announced his end.

“John R. Shaw, well-dig­ger and stone quar­ri­er, of Lexington, died Monday evening, September 6, 1813, when blown up in a well he was dig­ging for Robert Wilson.  He was the author of the biog­ra­phy bear­ing his name.”

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