Click here for Part Two of The Lost Dutchman Mine
Richard “Dick” James Holmes was born on July 18, 1865, near Fort Whipple in the Arizona Territory. At twenty-six, he and his friend Gideon Roberts found themselves at the bedside of a dying Jacob Waltz. It was the night of October 25, 1891, and though few could have known it at the time, a legend was about to be born. Holmes would later claim that Waltz, in his final hours, revealed the location of a secret gold mine and left him with forty-eight pounds of rich ore. Whether that deathbed confession ever truly happened, or whether Holmes simply took what he found, remains one of the most contested questions in the story of the Lost Dutchman’s Mine.
I’ve always viewed the Holmes narrative with skepticism. While it’s clear that Holmes walked away with the gold and had his account supported by Roberts, everything else tied to him is either secondhand or shrouded in uncertainty. Still, when examining the broader body of Dutchman lore, a more consistent picture starts to form, one that suggests Holmes may have been telling at least part of the truth.
Holmes paints a much darker portrait of the Dutchman than the one Julia Thomas presents, and it includes a different set of clues. Most of those clues come to us through his son, George “Brownie” Holmes, and from a dubious document known to Dutch Hunters as the Holmes Manuscript. We will discuss both Brownie and the manuscript in more detail in another chapter. This makes it nearly impossible to know what, if anything, Dick Holmes truly heard from the Dutchman.
For now, let’s set skepticism aside and examine the core of Holmes’ story. He claimed the mine was on the western side of the Superstitions and that Waltz had taken it by force, murdering its previous owners. Those men, he said, were descendants of the Peralta family, a name woven throughout Dutchman lore.
Holmes portrayed Waltz as a man who would kill anyone who got too close to the mine, even his own nephew, according to one version. Holmes himself once followed Waltz into the mountains but was caught, a detail often cited as proof that they knew each other before Waltz’s deathbed confession.
What lends Holmes’ story a measure of credibility are the details that align with the accounts of Thomas and the Petrasches. Chief among them is the landmark where Waltz is said to leave the trail, a rock formation resembling a man, described by Petrasch as a rock face. Across the canyon lie the ruins of a stone house, another detail echoed in multiple versions. Taken together, these shared elements suggest the stories may stem from a common truth.
Dick Holmes searched for the mine for years, stopping only when his health failed him. He passed the mantle to his son, Brownie, who carried on the obsession. If the two shared anything, it was a deep paranoia and an abiding mistrust of anyone else seeking the mine. If Waltz truly passed down clues, it’s reasonable to believe Holmes would have shared them with his son, even if he misled everyone else. And one thing seems certain to me, if either Dick Holmes or his son ever found the Dutchman’s mine, they never told a soul.
A notable gap in the Holmes narrative is Gideon Roberts. He was reportedly much older than Holmes and is said to have died not long after the events of October 25. I’ve come across a few scattered accounts of the man, but none provide a satisfying picture. Most books mention him only in passing, acknowledging his presence that night and little else. Some even suggest false or conflicting information in the published record. Of all the missing voices in this story, his is the one I’d most like to hear.
Dick Holmes’ story is difficult to accept, as we are dependent mostly on Brownie Holmes’ word. According to him, his father did not lie, and that is the end of the discussion. The Holmes family were true Arizona pioneers and were well respected in the community. That respect carries through to this day, where you will seldom hear an ill word spoken about them.
In my opinion, Dick Holmes likely stole the gold. In any case, he walked away with forty-eight pounds of rich gold ore. From there on, it’s a slippery slope as to what to believe. To me, the real treasure in this story lies in unraveling that mystery.
Dick Holmes died on October 31, 1930, almost 39 years to the day of Waltz, taking the secrets of the Dutchman’s last words with him.
