Click here for Part Five of The Lost Dutchman Mine
Sims Ely was born in 1862 in Overton County, Tennessee, where he spent his early years working in farming and agriculture. In 1874, his family relocated to Kansas, where Sims began studying law and writing for local newspapers. Over the next few years, he would become editor-in-chief of several publications and serve as a secretary to Kansas Senator John Martin, before resigning in 1895 to become the Water Storage Manager for Arizona’s Roosevelt Dam project on the Salt River. It was around this time that he met Jim Bark, forming a lifelong partnership in the search for the Lost Dutchman Mine.
Like Bark, Ely was a pioneer in the search for the Dutchman and was in a position to know all the original players, except for Jacob Waltz himself. Over the course of twenty-five years alongside Bark, he came as close as anyone to unraveling the truth behind the legend. Still, Ely’s legacy in the Dutchman story leaves behind a trail of curious contradictions, questionable details, and inconsistencies with other well-regarded sources.
Throughout this series, I’ve tried to clarify where specific information comes from, particularly by tracing it to either the Petrasch-Thomas camp or the Holmes camp. In his book The Lost Dutchman Mine, Ely cites his extensive interviews with Julia Thomas and the Petrasch family, yet he never mentions Dick Holmes at all. Ely also presents a version of Waltz’s final days that directly contradicts other established accounts. The closest he comes to mentioning Holmes or Gideon Roberts is to claim that some “unknown” individual entered Julia’s house while she attended Waltz’s funeral and stole the ore he had left her.
A few other significant differences in Ely’s version include the origin of Waltz, the location of his mine, and the addition of a partner named Jacob Weiser. Ely claims this version came directly from Waltz via Rhiney and Julia and offers reasons for trusting their account. In this telling, Waltz and Weiser are in Sonora, Mexico, when they rescue a man named Miguel Peralta from a violent poker game. In gratitude, Peralta grants the two Jacobs a stake in his mine. Later, while working the mine, Weiser is killed during an Apache attack, leaving Waltz grief-stricken and too fearful to return. Ely describes this sequence with such vivid detail that it strains belief when compared to less embellished accounts also said to have come from the Petrasch-Thomas camp.
The rest of Ely’s book continues along similar lines, chronicling stories that have since become foundational elements of Dutchman lore. Among them are his versions of the Two Soldiers, the Joe Deering, and the Dr. Thorne stories. These tales are delivered with an unusual level of detail, cross-references, and supporting anecdotes. Their echoes have been passed down through generations of Dutch Hunters, shaping the search as we know it. Ely writes with such confidence and has such a strong reputation that it’s easy to accept his word as fact. The truth, however, is that many glaring inaccuracies cast doubt on the authenticity of his work.
A notable example is the story of Dr. Abraham Thorne, a physician who supposedly served at Fort McDowell in 1865. Dr. Thorne was said to be well-liked by the local Apache and often provided them with medical care. After saving the life of a chief, Thorne was rewarded. According to the tale, the Apache blindfolded him and led him into the Superstitions, revealing a pile of gold ore they had prepared as payment. On the return journey, the blindfold slipped, and he glimpsed several distinct landmarks. The implication is that this was the same mine later associated with the Dutchman. Although Ely’s telling includes numerous biographical details that, if accurate, should have helped verify his claims, there is no evidence that Dr. Thorne ever existed, let alone that such an exchange occurred. That leads to a larger question: where did Ely get his information?
One of the most questionable claims is Ely’s insistence that Waltz had a partner. He recounts how Waltz and Weiser were attacked by Apache while working the mine. Weiser, unknown to Waltz, survived long enough to crawl across the desert to the home of a certain Dr. Walker, who lived among the Pima and Maricopa tribes. Before dying, Weiser supposedly gave the doctor a rawhide map that detailed the route from Sonora to the mine in the Superstitions. This map, said to have been given to the two Jacobs by Miguel Peralta, conveniently disappears later in the story. Ely supports this claim with an elaborate biography of Dr. Walker, citing his historical contributions to the Arizona Territory, although many of those details appear to be fabricated. As with so many parts of Ely’s account, more of it can be disproven than confirmed.
It is not my intention to discredit Sims Ely. By all accounts, he remains a revered figure in the annals of Dutchman lore. Personally, I suspect Ely’s account contains a fair amount of embellishment, and perhaps even deliberate misdirection. As readers, we expect his work to be grounded in fact. What we have instead is something far murkier, raising the question of whether his inaccuracies were accidental or intentional, and if intentional, to what end?
Yet another puzzling piece of the elusive Dutchman mystery.
