Disposing of the Overland Stage
By William Daugherty, for the Reno Evening Gazette in 1891.
The tale of the Overland Stage, a vital artery connecting far-flung communities in the American West, is a story of ambition, innovation, and ultimately, obsolescence. As the iron horse relentlessly pushed westward, the stagecoach, once the undisputed king of overland travel, faced an inevitable decline. This account, originally penned by William Daugherty for the Reno Evening Gazette in 1891, delves into the intriguing methods employed by Wells, Fargo & Co. to divest themselves of their Montana stage line, a route stretching from Salt Lake City to Helena, Montana, during the transformative era of transcontinental railroad construction.
The Overland Stage: A Lifeline of the West
In the mid-19th century, before the advent of the railroad, the Overland Stage was the primary means of transporting passengers, mail, and precious cargo across the vast, often unforgiving, landscapes of the American West. Stagecoaches, sturdy vehicles pulled by teams of horses or mules, braved treacherous terrain, hostile weather, and the ever-present threat of bandits. The Overland Stage lines were more than just transportation routes; they were lifelines connecting remote settlements, fostering commerce, and enabling communication across immense distances.
Wells, Fargo & Co., a name synonymous with the Wild West, played a pivotal role in the Overland Stage’s history. In the early 1860s, the company acquired the Overland Stage line from Ben Holladay, further solidifying its dominance in the transportation and financial sectors of the West. For years, Wells Fargo diligently operated the stage line, navigating the challenges of the frontier and serving the needs of a burgeoning population.
The Inevitable March of Progress
However, the relentless march of progress, in the form of the transcontinental railroad, cast a long shadow over the Overland Stage. As the railroad tracks snaked their way across the continent, connecting East and West, the stagecoach’s days were numbered. The railroad offered a faster, more efficient, and ultimately more cost-effective mode of transportation, rendering the stagecoach increasingly obsolete.
Faced with the prospect of declining profits and dwindling relevance, Wells Fargo & Co. made the pragmatic decision to dispose of its stagecoach properties. In the summer of 1868, the company dispatched a trusted agent from New York City to assess the situation and devise a strategy for divesting the stagecoach assets. The agent’s mission was clear: to minimize losses and maximize returns as the railroad gradually eroded the stagecoach’s market share.
A Scheme Unfolds
The agent, a man described as possessing "great reserve and aristocratic bearing," wielded his authority with an iron fist. He embarked on a series of sales, disposing of stagecoach properties west of Salt Lake City to various companies. These companies often utilized the stagecoaches to operate feeder lines, connecting mining towns and other settlements to the railroad network. In many cases, the agent accepted payments in the form of unexpired mail contracts, a shrewd move that allowed Wells Fargo to recoup some of its investment.
However, the agent harbored a secret ambition. He recognized the enduring value of the Montana stage line, which was relatively insulated from the immediate impact of the railroad. This line, connecting Salt Lake City to Helena, Montana, promised continued prosperity, and the agent coveted it for himself.
To realize his scheme, the agent meticulously orchestrated a plan. He began by transferring the best horses and coaches from other parts of the Wells Fargo system to the Montana line, effectively upgrading its equipment and enhancing its profitability. This clandestine operation ensured that the Montana line would be the most desirable asset when the time came to sell.
The Dummy Purchaser
The agent knew that he could not directly purchase the Montana line without raising suspicion. Therefore, he enlisted the help of a "dummy" purchaser, a well-known division agent on the Montana line. The plan was simple: the division agent would nominally purchase the Montana line, and then, after the sale was ratified by the Wells Fargo board of directors, the agent would buy out the division agent, effectively acquiring the property for himself.
The agent approached the division agent with his proposition, promising him a share of the profits in exchange for his cooperation. The division agent, enticed by the prospect of financial gain, readily agreed to participate in the scheme.
With his plan in motion, the agent approached the Wells Fargo board of directors, painting a bleak picture of the Montana line’s future. He argued that the uncertainties of the mining territories and the overall decline of the stagecoach industry made it prudent to sell the line, even at a discounted price. He claimed to have found a buyer willing to pay $40,000 in cash, and he urged the board to approve the sale.
The Sting
The board, swayed by the agent’s persuasive arguments, summoned him to New York for further consultation. Before departing, the agent instructed his confederate to act swiftly upon receiving telegraphic confirmation of the sale.
The agent successfully convinced the Wells Fargo board to approve the sale of the Montana line for $40,000. The board stipulated that the payment must be made in cash, deposited immediately in Wells Fargo’s bank in Salt Lake City.
Upon receiving the telegram, the division agent sprang into action. He secured a temporary loan to cover the purchase price, fully aware that the Montana line was worth far more than the agreed-upon sum. He deposited the money in the bank, and the sale was officially ratified.
The agent returned to Salt Lake City, and together with his confederate and a partner, he traveled the Montana line, formally transferring the property. With the transaction seemingly complete, the agent summoned his confederate to settle their "little business" and finalize the details of their partnership.
It was then that the division agent revealed his true colors. In his characteristic nasal voice, he declared, "Not much; I’m the sole owner of the Montana stage line; I bought it, and have no partner, and don’t intend to have, for I got it pretty cheap."
The trusted agent was dumbfounded. His meticulously crafted scheme had been foiled by the very person he had entrusted to carry it out. The division agent, seizing the opportunity, had double-crossed him and claimed sole ownership of the Montana line.
The agent, defeated and humiliated, returned to the East, never revealing the details of his failed scheme. Meanwhile, Jack Gilmer, the former division agent, prospered from his cunning deception, amassing wealth from the Montana stage line.
A Cautionary Tale
The story of the Overland Stage’s disposal serves as a cautionary tale of ambition, greed, and the unpredictable nature of human behavior. It illustrates the lengths to which individuals will go to pursue their self-interests, even at the expense of others. It also highlights the transformative impact of technological innovation, as the railroad irrevocably altered the landscape of the American West, rendering the once-indispensable stagecoach a relic of the past.
By William Daugherty article in the Reno Evening Gazette, May 27, 1891. Compiled and edited by Kathy Weiser/Legends of America, updated March 2025. About the Author: Written by William Daugherty for the Reno Evening Gazette in 1891. The Reno Evening Gazette was first published on October 12, 1876, and continued for the next 107 years. In 1977, it was merged with the Nevada State Journal and continues to exist today as the Reno Gazette-Journal. 1876, and continued for the next 107 years. In 1977, it was merged with the Nevada State Journal and continues to exist today as the Reno Gazette-Journal. The text here is not verbatim, as it has been heavily edited for the modern reader.