Dan DeQuille's Fourth of July, 1861 - A True Story from the Old West

By many accounts, Dan DeQuille (William Wright) was destined to be as popular a journalist as Samuel Clemens' Mark Twain. History would not support that idea, but many Nevadans would insist upon it. As a contributor to the Pacific Coast's publication, "Golden Era", Dan had fans on both coasts and many in between.

A chronicler of the mining life, DeQuille was gifted with a natural wit and a keen eye. His eyewitness accounts of gold-rushing, as published in "The Washoe Rambles", had been serialized in the "Golden Era". Thus by installments did the eager public learn of his exploits and explorations into the wild. Not only did DeQuille observe and report the goings-on of gold miners, he became one himself.

In 1857, DeQuille set out to make his "pile" by chasing the enigmatic "big thing:" the gold mine. He never found it. But he left another kind of wealth for posterity -- his writings. One of his contributions was this story of DeQuille's 1861 celebration of the Fourth of July.

The night before the Fourth had been depressing for Dan and his comrade. Though he hated travelling the desert at night, Dan and his partners were forced to look for water. Finally, the familiar tinkle of a nearby cow bell signaled that relief was at hand. Horses, burros and men knew that their thirsts would be quenched when they followed the bell. Though the well water that they found that day was a tad alkaline, it was better than nothing. DeQuille and his party wasted no time in hauling up a full bucket. Thirsts quenched and canteens filled, the partners decided to call it a night. They hunkered down in the bedrolls and went fast asleep.

Morning came early in those days. As Dan and his friend slowly unrolled themselves from their blankets, they tried to begin a new day. Bob, Dan's partner, griped and grumbled under his breath. Dan started to admonish him, but then he paused as he remembered the day. This was not just any morning. T'was the Fourth of July!

Dan wrote, "This morning was the morning of the birthday of Independence to a great people -- the Goddess most loved by the American people -- the birthday of Liberty!"

Bob went out to fetch the horses while Dan tried to prepare a feast. His meager rations left him little to prepare. Nonetheless, their hearts were full of celebration as they fetched cold water, flapped some jacks and chawed down on a leathery bit of rabbit.

Just as they finished up their breakfast, the owners of the well suddenly appeared, demanding to be paid for the water that Dan and his friends had used. Dan and Bob pardon themselves and huddled. They could not allow these opportunists to ruin their day. They made a pact not to pay them one red cent, and decided to leave the matter entirely in the hands of another friend, Tom, who was expected to catch up with them the next day.

Bob suggested to the well owners that if they could be excused today, then their friend Tom would be most delighted to settle their debt tomorrow--

But Dan suddenly interrupted, working a new plan in his mind. "My partner here was going to use his twenty dollar bill to pawn, but...." His voice trailed off as he gave his words a weight they really didn't have. "Oh, but surely you can change a twenty dollar bill?" he asked, narrowing his eyes on his prey.

The owners frowned and look at each other. "'Fraid not," one said. "We ain't got five dollars in the whole house."

"I see," said DeQuille, cutting a sideways look at this friend. "Well, then perhaps we can settle this in trade since we won't be allowed to pay in cash -- which would be my preference, you understand."

DeQuille breathed a sigh of relief before he went on. "And by the way, gentlemen, it is really an inconvenience for us travellers that you don't have change. After all, change is essential to men engaged in business."

The owners were chagrined. "I'm mighty sorry," said one. "Perhaps you'll be passing by here again and then maybe--"

DeQuille held up both hands in protest. "I'm afraid not, gentlemen. It is highly unlikely that we will EVER return to this part of the world. Besides, we would much prefer to settle our debts immediately, as it were. But wait! Here is a fine slab of bacon that we can spare. Certainly it would cost twice the bill in Virginia City. At least."

The two men smiled at each other as they receive the fare. Waving a hearty goodbye, Dan and Bob left the area a bit lighter than they had been previously, but it was all to the good. Dan stuck out his chest and thumbed his suspenders as he moseyed over to his horse.

Bob scratched his head. "I don't get it. That bacon was worth twice what we owed them. How'd we come out ahead on that deal?"

"You surprise me, Bob, you really do!" Dan said, shaking his head. "We actually made a great deal. We made an impression! Those fellows believed that we carried a twenty dollar bill, so we saved our credit AND our reputation. Granted, we had to sacrifice our bacon, but who'd ever admit to being flat broke on the Fourth of July!"

Dan and Bob wound up their trip in Virginia City where it seemed their newfound reputation had proceeded them. After they observed the holiday fireworks with the townsfolk, they were allowed sufficient credit at their favorite saloon to top off their celebration of Independence Day. While they didn't save their bacon in the actual sense, Dan Dequille and friends had a memorable Fourth, nonetheless.

Karal Ayn Barnett is a freelance writer in Las Vegas, Nevada. Just after she moved to that area in 1991, she began researching the history of the state and discovered the many wonderful stories of the old west -- stories that run the gamut from trial to triumph, with a good dose of humor all along the way. The above story is an excerpt from her ebook, "Echoes Of Holidays Past In The Old West".

(Note: The story and images on this page are Copyright © 2000, by Karal Ayn Barnett. This story may not be reproduced, reprinted, or used in any way without the permission of the author.)