THIS WAS NEVADA: Phillip I. Earl

      The administration of justice in many of Nevada's early mining camps was often hampered by the lack of a jail. Men who got into serious trouble sometimes ended up paying their dues on the short end of a long rope. Those who committed lesser offenses were tarred and feathered, lost an ear, were run out of town, handcuffed to a hitching post or chained to the nearest tree for a couple of days.
      The camp of Eureka was established in September 1864, but did not gain importance until new smelting techniques were developed in 1869. The district nevertheless drew its share of drifters and troublemakers. Since County Commissioners in Austin, seat of Lander County before Eureka County was created in 1873, refused to provide funds for a local jail, Eureka's citizens took it upon themselves to build a rough log structure they felt would serve their purposes.
      For the ordinary troublemaker, the jail was adequate, but Newton Thacher was no ordinary man. Following a prolonged drinking spree and a near-riot in the red-light district, Thacher and his partner found themselves confined to the aforesaid structure. They drifted off into a drunken repose and did not awaken until another confederate on the outside aroused them by calling through the walls. An ax was soon passed through a convenient crack and Newton and his partner hacked down the door and walked out free men.
      The pair appeared at the bar of the nearest saloon and ordered drinks for all present. The barkeep expressed considerable surprise at the fact they were at liberty, but Thacher explained to him what happened.
      Displaying the ax, he asked the saloonkeeper to inform all those who inquired that "Newton Thacher, like George Washington, could not tell a lie, and that he had done it with his little hatchet."
      The local constable took Thacher at his word and he and his partner were locked up again within the hour, minus their ax. They were chained to the floor for the night. Next morning, they appeared before the justice of the peace, were duly fined and set to repairing their previous night's handiwork.
      Other prisoners found the log structure equally as easy to crack, but the officials in Austin still refused to spend good money on any such foolishness as a proper jail. Eureka's leading citizens, feeling that justice had to be served, finally met to concoct a scheme to impress the recalcitrant officials with the need for such an institution. In early October 1868, an Austin teamster, Leonard Jackson, arrived in Eureka with his rig heavily laden with sacks of barley. Since the hour was late, he pulled out his bedroll, spread it beneath his wagon and retired for the night. One of Eureka's citizens, John Dennis, saw his opportunity. He contacted two local rounders and paid them to steal four sacks of barley from Jackson's wagon. The deed was done within the hour and the barley was stored in a back room at Dennis' residence.
      When Jackson awoke the next morning and found his grain gone, he was wild with rage. "What kind of a town is Eureka," he wailed, "stealing my grain when I'm asleep?"
      "Well, you see," Dennis told him, "we have something of a crime problem here because we don't have a jail. These thugs can run loose even after they have been convicted. We can't be hauling them to Austin every day."
      Jackson stormed off down the street, sold the rest of his barley before leaving town and considered himself fortunate that he still had his team and wagon. While he was having a last drink in a nearby saloon, someone unhitched the team and lead them away. Jackson, in utter frustration, finally hired another team and whipped them back to Austin.
      Shortly after his return, he contacted County Commissioners and related the manner in which he had been treated in Eureka. At the next meeting, they voted funds for a jail and dispatched a rider to tell Eureka officials they should immediately put out bids. Curiously enough, Jackson's team and the missing sacks of barley were "found" and returned to him several weeks later when he again happened to be in Eureka on business.
     
      Phillip I. Earl is curator of history for the Nevada Historical Society.