Waltz’s exact role in the legend of the mine is muddled, but there is no doubt that he existed. Declaration of Intent and citizenship papers prove that Waltz came to the United States from Germany and eventually gained citizenship in 1861. Why a German’s legend would eventually become known as a Dutchman’s is still a bit of a mystery. Some say it’s because Americans constantly confused the Dutch and the Germans, and so the two terms became synonymous. Regardless, it is surmised that Waltz went west with gold seekers during the California gold rush of ’49, and later prospected his way back east, finally settling in Phoenix, where he took up a homestead claim of 160 acres in the Salt River Valley (about a mile west of what is now Sky Harbor International Airport). Like any good myth, various versions of the Lost Dutchman mine exist, but it’s virtually impossible to happen upon one in which Jacob Waltz is not the finder of the elusive gold.
Some versions of the tale claim Waltz had a partner, Jacob Weiser. The two Germans either discovered the mine together by chance or were supplied with a map to the gold by Don Miguel Peralta’s surviving son, who wished to repay the Germans for saving his life during a card game turned bloody. Some say that after locating the gold, Weiser was killed by Apaches. Others say Waltz killed him out of greed. Another alternative is that Waltz and Weiser were actually the same person, and that time and retellings have fractured the legend, creating two Jacobs when there was only ever one.
Until the late 1880s, Waltz supposedly spent his winters pulling gold from his Superstitions mine, and his summers on his homestead in Phoenix. A flood of the Salt River in the spring of 1891 destroyed his home and left him sick with pneumonia. His neighbor Julia Thomas nursed him during his final days. Perhaps one of the most agreed upon threads of the legend is that Waltz confessed the location of his hidden mine to Julia while on his deathbed, going so far as to provide her with a map. Armed even with all this information, Julia failed to locate the gold after Waltz’s passing.
The Lost Dutchman—if it truly does exist—has never been found. The story continues to be shared and retold, and numerous people have entered the Superstitions in search of the mine and continue to do so to this day. Many of them have been found dead years later, often in conditions that can only be concluded as the result of murder. The blood that seems irrevocably tied to the mine has led to whispers that the gold is haunted or cursed, or perhaps that the very mountains are.
Taking creative liberties is one of the best perks of being a writer, and I have, admittedly, been selective about which threads of the Lost Dutchman legend to weave into my novel. To me, it seemed quite possible that there was only one Jacob, so I eliminated Weiser. The theory that Waltz’s gold mine was actually Peralta’s, recovered years later, also seemed reasonable, so I incorporated that plot line. Rumors that the mountains are haunted manifested in Kate’s mother, the ghost shooter. And though Waltz likely had just the one home (in Phoenix) and entered the mountains only while prospecting, making camp as he traveled, I chose to give him a secondary home along the Salt. There’s no indication that such a residence existed, and even if it did, Waltz likely would have returned to Phoenix by June, when Kate and her companions encounter him in Vengeance Road. But as you can see, I tweaked things for my story.
As for how Waltz found the gold to begin with? This is where I’ve taken the most liberties, combining Kate’s story with the Lost Dutchman legend. Since the origins of the myth are already so highly debated, who’s to say Waltz couldn’t have found the gold because a young girl handed him the fitting maps? It was this idea that fueled Kate’s story, along with the possibility that all the answers could be contained in a mysterious personal journal, found by her parents when they stumbled upon the remains of the Peralta massacre years earlier. The clues Kate uses to find the mine are the product of my research: a combination of multiple theories and speculations that have surrounded the Lost Dutchman legend since Waltz’s passing. They are genuine in that they are pulled from published sources on the topic—but then again, how reliable is any myth?
Simply put, this novel was a joy to write. It is the culmination of years of daydreaming, my opportunity to tell my own “Wild West” tale set against a very real backdrop in American history. While I strived to be accurate, honest, and respectful in my portrayal of the people who populate Vengeance Road and the locations through which they travel, it is only fair to acknowledge that any errors or historical inaccuracies are mine and mine alone. Unless we’re talking about a detail related to the Lost Dutchman, because, come on—who really knows what happened? That’s the best part about legends: tons of holes and discrepancies just waiting to be theorized. It’s a writer’s dream come true.
Acknowledgments
I find writing acknowledgments to be an incredibly challenging task. How can I possibly express the true extent of my gratitude to everyone who made this book possible? There aren’t enough words, and yet, I’ll try . . .
My posse over at Houghton Mifflin Harcourt knocked this out of the park. Kate O’Sullivan, editor extraordinaire: I’m so glad you fell in love with Kate’s story and gave me the opportunity to share it with the world. Thank you for your gentle queries and steadfast dedication, for Pinterest boards and constant transparency. You kept me involved from book sale to book publication, and I am so very grateful. To one mighty fine design team, Scott Magoon and Cara Llewellyn: Thank you for dressing up this story so that it shouted “Western!” but didn’t scare off readers hesitant toward the genre. Teagan White: Don’t ever stop doing what you do. The illustration on Vengeance Road’s cover is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. You captured the essence of Kate’s story so perfectly and I still can’t believe that this gorgeous artwork graces the front of my book. Additional love to Betsy Groban, Mary Wilcox, Linda Magram, Lisa DiSarro, Karen Walsh, Hayley Gonnason, Ruth Homberg, and every last HMH employee who touched this project: thank you for saddling up and working tirelessly to get this book onto shelves, in the hands of readers, and on educators’ radars.
My wrangler? Partner in crime? Whatever the fitting Western lingo, I’d be lost without my agent, Sara Crowe. Thank you for supporting me as I jumped from dystopian sci-fi into a genre that couldn’t be more different, for encouraging me to write in a rich dialect, and for then finding the perfect home for this unique little book. I am so lucky to be navigating the unpredictable plains of publishing with you at my side.
The lovely, brilliant, wonderful author gals who read Vengeance Road prior to publication and had such nice things to say about it: Alexandra Bracken, Jessica Spotswood, Mindy McGinnis, Megan Shepherd, Saundra Mitchell, A. C. Gaughen, Jodi Meadows, and Susan Dennard. Thank you, thank you, thank you! Who knew there was so much love out there for Westerns?
My trusty critique partners and beta readers, Susan Dennard, Jenny Martin, and Mindy McGinnis: Thank you for weighing in early, for smacking the dust off the less-than-stellar scenes and setting my sights straight. (Sooz, you especially kicked me into gear. The second half of this novel was completely overhauled—for the better!—because of your astute insights. I owe you bigtime.) Additional love to Sarah Maas, whose friendship continues to keep me sane and laughing throughout this industry’s ups and downs.