Jim Bradshaw: In one early field, post-hole diggers were enough to drill a well

When we say that some of the early oil wells in south Louisiana were shallow wells, we mean really shallow.

Some of them were dug with long-handled post-hole diggers.

The Abbeville Meridional reported in 1907 that those wells were “showing a marvelous production when the way they are brought in is considered.”

“A prominent oilman” who’d gone to look at prospects near Vinton in western Calcasieu Parish “explained the extent of the production on the farm of Aladin Vincent” about three miles south of town.

The oilman said there were about 20 little wells on the farm, each producing from one to five barrels of “good quality” oil per day.

The wells were “anywhere from eighteen to twenty feet deep, being dug with a post-hole auger with a long handle attached.”

Vincent’s neighbor, the oilman said, was “making preparations to sink a deep well … [and] it is thought an excellent gusher will be developed.”

I don’t know how Vincent’s neighbor fared, but the Aladin Vincent No.1 well, 300 feet deep, had been drilled in the regular way in May 1904, three years before the Meridional’s post-hole report.

But that turned out to be not as lucky as it seems. It started the chain of events that ultimately reduced Vincent to digging wells by hand.

His wife, the former Azema Perry, was said to be the good luck charm when the 300-foot well came in.

She and a friend had driven out to watch the drilling and had just arrived on the scene when, according to the newspapers, “the overflow from the well suddenly changed. Water began to be covered with a glassy looking coat which rapidly became thicker. The workmen skimmed it up on shovels, the flow became stronger and stronger, and ‘oil’ was the shout of the workmen.”

After that well was brought in, Vincent and his brothers-in-law, Alex and James Perry, began buying property in the vicinity at prices hugely inflated by the lure of black gold, including more than 200 acres from John Geddings Gray.

But something went wrong with that deal. The account of just what that was depends on which family’s story you believe.

The court sided with Gray, and made him beneficiary in November 1904 of what newspapers called “the largest judgment ever awarded in the district court of Calcasieu.”

According to one report, “The writ of seizure includes all the lands of the defendant [Vincent] stretching away from the town of Vinton to the Sabine River and containing between ten and twelve thousand acres, mostly pasture land.” It included Vincent’s “fine dwelling,” Hominy Hill, and “numerous outbuildings, barns, stables, etc.”

John Geddings Gray was nicknamed “Ged.” That pasture land became known as Ged’s, then Ged, then the Ged Oil Field.

Gray formed a partnership with R. F. Benckenstein, who was one of the pioneers in the first fields in Beaumont and Jennings and, according to one biographical sketch, “made and lost several fortunes in the oil business.” This one was a winning venture.

The Benckenstein No. 1 well “came in with a great rumble and roar and shot high into the air over the sixty-foot derrick” in September 1910, beginning something big.

At its peak, more than 1,200 wells had been drilled at the Ged field, some of which are still producing.

My great-uncle Aladin held onto the scrap of land where he was digging tiny wells by hand in 1907.

He did eventually drill a real well on the fringe of the giant field he’d once owned. His post-hole digging turned up just enough oil to convince a driller that a deeper well would be worthwhile.

It supported him and Azema, but played out years ago.

You can contact Jim Bradshaw at jimbradshaw4321@gmail.com or P.O. Box 1121, Washington LA 70589.<>/i>