The settlement of Utah by the Mormons in 1847 and the discovery of gold in California in 1848 led to a need for a mail route from the "end of civilization" at St Joseph, Missouri to the new population settlements at Salt Lake City and Sacramento. Mail service from San Antonio to San Diego had been started in 1857 by a private company; later that year, Congress authorized a government contract for US Mail delivery from St Louis to San Francisco. John Butterfield was awarded the contract in 1858 with a route running from Memphis to Ft Smith, Arkansas, through El Paso, along the southern border (though the lands of the Gadsden Purchase) through Tucson, and on to Los Angeles up the Central Valley to San Francisco. The route was selected as avoiding snow and mountains. The route was judged an excellent road; the one-way journey took almost 2 months.

Attempting to provide faster "express" service, a shorter route using men on horseback rather than stage coaches or wagons was started in 1860. Cutting straight across the central west, the Pony Express could deliver mail in 10 days between St Joseph and Sacramento but the operation was not awarded an exclusive delivery contract. In spite of high delivery charges and subsidies, the Pony Express was not profitable and the competition of the transcontinental telegraph in 1861 caused the demise of the venture.

Meanwhile, after the war back east started, the route had to be moved north and Ben Holladay was awarded the mail contract between Atchison and Salt Lake after purchasing the assets of the Pony Express holding company. He named the new company The Overland Mail Company. The post office designated the route: "Central Overland California Route."

A large number of employees was necessary for such an operation as the Overland Stage. Aside from Ben Holladay, the main company officials were Bela Hughes who served as the general counsel; David Street as Paymaster; and Robert Pease as the trustee.

The operation was divided into three major divisions; from Atchison to Latham (later Denver*) was the eastern division; Latham to Salt Lake was the mountain division; and the western division covered Salt Lake to Placerville. A superintendent was placed in charge of each division, each again divided again into three subdivisions being of about two hundred miles in length. A division agent having considerable authority was in charge of each minor division; he being in charge of all company property within his territory.

*Denver itself was a small mining camp on the South Platte River at Cherry Creek in the earliest gold mining days of 1858/59 near where today's Speer Blvd crosses I-25. Several other settlements in the area were larger - notably Auraria. Golden - about 15 miles west - was the capital of the Jefferson Territory, then the Colorado Territory until 1867 when the capital was moved to Denver. Denver is now a major metropolitan city; even the location of Latham is now relatively uncertain.

The division agent was usually an experienced stage man, often having risen from the rank of driver. The agent was responsible for the purchase of all the grain, hay and supplies for his division, he hired the station-keepers, drivers, blacksmiths, harness-makers and stock tenders. Any matters on his division over which there was a dispute were adjusted by him. Within each division was a local agent who usually acted as clerk for the division agent in addition to his other duties.

The mail contract paid the company $365.000 per year but additional receipts from passenger and express business were even larger, often being from $150,000 to $200,000 per month. The fare for the full distance - from Atchison to Placerville - was $600. Fares between points ranged from twelve and one-half (1 bit) to fifteen cents a mile. Passengers were allowed 25 lbs of luggage; extra baggage, 75 cents to $1.50 per pound. When the mining excitement ran highest, the coaches were carrying full loads both ways (and fares were increased). Each coach might carry twelve passengers and nearly half a ton of mail and express matter, in addition to the driver and messenger. Depending on road conditions, the coach would average between 6 and 16 miles an hour. In order to meet the schedule, an average of a bit over 110 miles needed to be covered every day

Equipment was usually of the very best; the usual Concord coach was built by the Abbot-Downing Company of Concord, NH. There were about 100 of these high-end coaches on line at any one time - each costing about $1300 and built for endurance. A standard set of 4 harnesses per coach cost about $150. Feed for the stock was one of the important items of expense - each station allocated from forty to eighty tons of hay annually - hay costing from fifteen to forty dollars a ton. Feed was allocated at about twelve quarts of corn daily per animal; costing from two to ten cents a pound.

No animal could excel the mule for endurance, but horses were used when speed over endurance was preferred. Mule teams in particular were used on the eighteen mile stretch through sand from Junction and Bijou Creek to Fremonts Orchard. A team used on that stretch would use five mules. The two heaviest were the wheelers, another two forward of them, and the lightest hitched as a single in the lead. Mules seemed to be much better adapted for work in sandy regions than horses and were used in such places.

The Concord coach weighed 2,500 pounds, were 8 1/2 ft long and stood over 9 feet tall. The body was suspended on straps attached to the frame. Wheels were wooden with iron straps as tires. The driver applied brakes by pushing on a foot-lever which forced wooden blocks against the rear tires.

Although taken from plans for a model, the following images give an idea of the construction of a Concord coach.

There were three bench seats inside; the bench seats at the front and rear had limited headroom; the center bench had no backrest but had a leather harness suspended across the coach by straps from the roof. The coach could accommodate another six passengers on the roof.

Luggage was carried on the back or roof if room; valuables were carried in a compartment under the driver's seat.

Some stations along the trail were built of cedar (juniper) logs; some of frame construction which cost about $2,000. About three-quarters were built of adobe or sod. The home stations were often frame type, built of lumber hauled from south of Denver. Home stations were usually provided with sheds, outbuildings, and other conveniences.

"The stables were built 50 feet long by 25 feet wide, and they had large granaries built to them, and they were battened up, attached and shingled roof. The houses were shingled roofs, and had upright bolts, and were battened tight; very neat kitchen and dining room; most of them had four rooms besides the dining-room and kitchen".

Drivers were changed at the home stations - located about every 50 miles. The home stations also provided food for passengers - between Julesburg and Denver the meals cost $1.00. The food served usually included bacon, eggs, hot biscuits, tea, coffee, dried peaches, dried apples, dried apple pie, some beef, bison, and canned fruit and vegetables. Groceries were often available along with blacksmith services. Hay and wood were sold at some stations; however, travelers in the know carried their own wood tied under the wagons.

For the most part, swing stations where teams were changed were placed every 10-15 miles between home stations. Much of the South Platte route was across sand dunes creating a hard pull for the stage teams which were often of mules along this section. Among the worst was the section between Bijou Creek and Fremonts Orchard. An extra team of mules, called a spike team, was used and even then the teams went no faster than a walk. It took almost a full day to travel between Julesburg and Denver.

Each of the swing stations built along the 250 mile long stretch along the South Platte were built to similar construction. Most of the buildings were constructed by the stage company; each were usually nearly square, one-story log structures having one to three rooms or muslin partitions used to separate the kitchen from the dining-room and sleeping quarters.

The roof was supported by a log placed across gable to gable which supported closely placed cross poles as rafters. Willow branches served as "shingles" with a layer of hay covered with sod; then the whole covered with a sprinkling of coarse gravel to keep the dirt from being blown off. The logs used came from the southern part of western Nebraska.

The home stations were more solidly constructed - often of frame and two or three times larger than the swing stations.

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The importance of the stage stations did not escape the attention of Indians intent on blocking American expansion into the west. The hostilities with the Sioux, Cheyenne and Arapaho which led Holladay to abandon the Oregon Trail eventually spread to the Overland Trail. Fort Halleck was established near Elk Mountain in the fall of 1862 with elements of the 11th Ohio Cavalry stationed there to protect the trail. Troops were posted at the stage stations east from LaClede beginning in 1863.

Indian raids increased in 1865 along the South Platte and Wyoming sections of the route after the Sand Creek massacre in late 1864. Many of the stations along the South Platte were destroyed; some never re-built. Raids along the route were so bad, all service stopped in the summer of 1865.

Between late May and late June, there were significant attacks at the Bridger Pass, Sage Creek, Pine Grove and Sulphur Springs stations in Wyoming. In early June, the Washakie Station was attacked with one man was wounded and nine cavalry horses driven off. Two emigrants were killed in the Sage Creek area that same day and the country was raided for 50 miles along the mail line. A troop from the 11th Ohio Cavalry were sent from Fort Halleck to open up the mail route. The Pine Grove and Bridger Pass stations were found deserted; the employees had gathered at the Sulphur Springs station. During this period, each station in the affected area supported a small group of soldiers to protect the mail. Mounted cavalry also escorted the stage at times.

Construction of the transcontinental railroad began after the war ended in 1865, although planning had begun several years earlier. Union Pacific surveyors looked at the Overland Trail as a potential route through Wyoming but chose a more northerly route across the Red Desert. Ben Holladay sold the Overland Stage Line to Wells Fargo while the Union Pacific was still building across Nebraska in 1866 - Wells-Fargo misjudging how fast the rails would be laid.

The railroad reached the Colorado border in June, 1867. Third Julesburg (or Weir) was founded as a Union Pacific end- of-track town and consisted of a few tents at the time the first train arrived on June 25. The town later had a population of around 2500 people, 120 structures, and about 100 people in Boot Hill cemetery. After the railroad reached Julesburg - where the rails swung north, the stage continued to serve the area to and beyond Denver.

A rival corporation known as the "Butterfield Overland Despatch" had absorbed the Smoky Hill line running through Kansas. The territorial legislature of Colorado changed the name of the now consolidated lines to the "Holladay Overland Mail and Express Company." This name was used until nearly all the stage and express lines of the west were bought and consolidated under the name of "Wells, Fargo & Co.'s Express."

Once the railroad reached Cheyenne in November, 1867, the stage line along the South Platte River was severely curtailed, and most of the people and businesses in Third Julesburg moved to Cheyenne. Stage service to Denver from Third Julesburg decreased on both the Overland Trail and the Fort Morgan Cutoff but stages still went south from Cheyenne to Denver. However, by the winter of 1867-1868, freighting by wagons had nearly ended in this area.

The first train reached Denver in 1870 and the last stage coach came into Denver on the Overland Trail. The rail from Cheyenne reached Denver in June, 1870 ending the stage traffic north into Wyoming.

After abandonment, the now deserted stations were scavenged for building materials; remnants were obliterated when the land was plowed or leveled for irrigation. The South Platte has flooded many times over the years; the location of the river itself has shifted in places and has possibly washed away some stations and parts of the trail, particularly around Fremonts Orchard. The trail has been subjected to wind erosion and has been covered by wind-blown sand; however, many segments of the Overland Trail along the South Platte were not farmed and sections of the trail are fairly well extent - some sections becoming county roads, some now ranch roads.

Wells Fargo continued running stages west from the nearest station on the Union Pacific railhead through 1868. As the railroad was built across Wyoming, the stage stations were closed sequentially from east to west and military posts such as Fort Halleck were replaced by new forts along the railroad. The era of transcontinental stagecoach traffic through Wyoming ended when the Union Pacific and Central Pacific Railroads met at Promontory Point, Utah in May 1869. Wells Fargo sold its stagecoach holdings in October 1869.

Wells-Fargo was not alone in misjudging the time expected to complete the railroad. The railroad companies, having an army of railway builders constantly at work, kept steadily shortening the stage rides. The railroad was completed years earlier than believed possible with the result of its early completion being a severe financial blow to the purchasers of the Overland Stage, and they lost heavily. They had between $50,000 and $75,000 worth of surplus stagecoaches; these were sold for surplus at less than one-third the original cost.

Although local stage traffic did not stop, the Lincoln Highway became the principal automobile road across southern Wyoming in 1913. Auto stages - the forerunners of bus service - replaced the horse-drawn coach. Portions of the stage route between Point of Rocks and Granger were incorporated into the early Lincoln Highway - now a service road off I-80. Other segments of the trail are in use now as local ranch roads. Eventually, the stations and majority of the Overland trail were abandoned to time.

The last stagecoach robbery occurred outside Jarbridge, Nevada near the Idaho line in 1916. The driver was killed and $4,000 was stolen. Three suspects were arrested shortly afterward. The $4,000 was never recovered and is assumed hidden in the Jarbridge canyon - a well-documented case of "hidden treasure".

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[most of the maps may be viewed at higher resolution by right-clicking and viewing in a new window]

The original stage line - The Butterfield Overland Mail - ran along what was referred to as the southern route from 1858 to 1862. Two originating points: Memphis and St Louis to join at Ft Smith, then a single route south to roughly follow just north of the Mexican border to LA and eventually up to San Francisco. It took just shy of 25 days to get from San Francisco to St Louis with twice weekly service. There were about 140 stations and 100 coaches on this line. After 1859, the fare was about $200 for the entire 2700 mile distance. There were no stops for sleep and barely any for food. There were bandits and Indians though.

One passenger stated:
"Had I not just come out over the route, I would be perfectly willing to go back, but I now know what Hell is like. I've just had 24 days of it."

When that little squabble back east started in early 1861, the Butterfield company - holding the contract to deliver US mail - closed the southern route and moved to serve the then-lucrative US-controlled route from Salt Lake City through Carson City/Virginia City and on to Placerville, California (roughly along now-back roads from Salt Lake, skirting south of the Dugway Proving Grounds to Ely, NV and then more or less along today's US50 from Ely to Placerville, California). The re-routed organization was called the Central Overland Route and was the main "highway from the east to California" until the Transcontinental Railroad was completed in 1869 ... although smaller stage lines continued to serve settlements away from the railroad into the 20th century.

This isn't the route segment I want to speak of.

Ben Halloday's Overland Stage Company

Meanwhile, the Central Overland California and Pike's Peak Express Company (COCPPEC) held the mail contract between St Joseph, Missouri and Salt Lake City with a branch to Denver. This company also operated the Pony Express mail route ... which only operated for 18 months when in 1861, the line went bankrupt and the transcontinental telegraph line was opened. Except through Colorado and Wyoming, the Overland Route eventually closely followed the Pony Express Trail up through Ft Laramie and through South Pass - the "Northern Route".

After Holladay bought out the near-bankrupt COCPPEC towards the end of 1861, he reorganized the company and changed to name to the "Overland Stage Line". He spent a considerable amount in making it the best-equipped stage line in the country. The stages were of the Concord type driven with the best horse and mule teams available. He also hired the best people, from the division agents down to the lowest stock tenders. His main goal was to improve the transportation of the mail as well as improving travel for his passengers.

From Ft. Kearney to Big Springs, Nebraska, the route generally followed what is now I-80 on the south side of the Platte River though Nebraska (later, the route of the Transcontinental Railroad also followed the Platte on the north side of the river along what is now US30). The trail split near Big Springs, Nebraska: one route heading towards Ft Laramie, the other along the South Platte River (now I-76) - also splitting at Julesburg (to allow for obtaining supplies), again later splitting near what is now Ft Morgan into a southwest route to Denver. The main route continued along the river, passing through Latham (now Greeley) where it left the South Platte and followed the Cache la Poudre River (US34) to LaPorte, north into Wyoming (US287), and on to Salt Lake City. As Denver grew, the main route turned south at Latham to Denver, then back north - along US287 - and re-joining the original trail at LaPorte.

Eugene Ware wrote a memoir, The Indian War of 1864, describing the stage operation:

The stage stations were about ten miles apart, sometimes a little more and sometimes a little less, according to the location of the ranches. Stores of shelled corn, for the use of the stage horses, were kept at principal stations along the line of the route. Intermediate stations between these principal stations were called "swing stations," where the horses were changed. For instance, the horses of a stage going up were taken off at a swing station, and fed; they might be there an hour or six hours; they might be put upon another stage in the same direction, or upon a stage returning. It was the policy of the stage company to make the business as profitable as possible, so it did not run its coaches until each coach had a good load, and they were most generally crowded with persons both on the inside and on top. Sometimes a stage would be almost loaded with women. From time to time stage company wagons went by loaded with shelled corn for distribution as needed at the swing stations. All of the coaches carried Government mail in greater or less quantities. Occasionally when the mail accumulated, a covered wagon loaded with mail went along with the coaches. These coaches were billed to go a hundred miles a day going west; sometimes they went faster. Coming east the down-grade of a few feet per mile enabled them to make better time. They went night and day, and a jollier lot of people could scarcely be found anywhere than the parties in these coaches.

The coaches were all built alike, upon a standard pattern called the "Concord Coach," with heavy leather springs, and they drove from four to six horses according to their load. The drivers sat up in the box, proud as brigadier-generals, and they were as tough, hardy and brave a lot of people as could be found anywhere. As a rule they were courteous to the passengers, and careful of their horses. They made runs of about a hundred miles and back. I got acquainted with many of them, and a more fearless and companionable lot of men I never met. There seemed to be an idea among them that while on the box they should not drink liquor, but when they got off they had stories to tell, and generally indulged freely. They gathered up mail from the ranches, and trains, and travelers along the road, and saw that it reached its destination. They had but very few perquisites, but among others was the getting furs, principally beaver-skins, and selling them to passengers. Most of them had beaver-skin overcoats with large turned-up collars. We soon understood the benefits of these collars, and the officers of our post put large beaver collars on their overcoats, and the men of the company fitted themselves out with tanned wolfskin collars, which were equally as good. Wolves were so numerous that there was quite an industry in shooting or poisoning them, and tanning their skins for the pilgrim trade.

[I sometimes wonder if by "wolves", they meant coyotes ...]

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Samuel Clemens (Mark Twain) described a station and passengers in Roughing It (not that Mark Twain ever embellished a good story):

The station buildings were long, low huts, made of sun-dried, mud-colored bricks, laid up without mortar (adobes, the Spaniards call these bricks, and Americans shorten it to 'dobies). The roofs, which had no slant to them worth speaking of, were thatched and then sodded or covered with a thick layer of earth, and from this sprung a pretty rank growth of weeds and grass. It was the first time we had ever seen a man's front yard on top of his house. The building consisted of barns, stable-room for twelve or fifteen horses, and a hut for an eating-room for passengers. This latter had bunks in it for the station-keeper and a hostler or two. You could rest your elbow on its eaves, and you had to bend in order to get in at the door. In place of a window there was a square hole about large enough for a man to crawl through, but this had no glass in it. There was no flooring, but the ground was packed hard. There was no stove, but the fire-place served all needful purposes.

There were no shelves, no cupboards, no closets. In a corner stood an open sack of flour, and nestling against its base were a couple of black and venerable tin coffee-pots, a tin teapot, a little bag of salt, and a side of bacon.

By the door of the station-keeper's den, outside, was a tin wash-basin, on the ground. Near it was a pail of water and a piece of yellow bar soap, and from the eaves hung a hoary blue woolen shirt, significantly -- but this latter was the station-keeper's private towel, and only two persons in all the party might venture to use it -- the stage-driver and the conductor. The latter would not, from a sense of decency; the former would not, because did not choose to encourage the advances of a station-keeper. We had towels -- in the valise; they might as well have been in Sodom and Gomorrah. We (and the conductor) used our handkerchiefs, and the driver his pantaloons and sleeves. By the door, inside, was fastened a small old-fashioned looking-glass frame, with two little fragments of the original mirror lodged down in one corner of it. This arrangement afforded a pleasant double-barreled portrait of you when you looked into it, with one half of your head set up a couple of inches above the other half. From the glass frame hung the half of a comb by a string -- but if I had to describe that patriarch or die, I believe I would order some sample coffins.

The furniture of the hut was neither gorgeous nor much in the way. The rocking-chairs and sofas were not present, and never had been, but they were represented by two three-legged stools, a pine-board bench four feet long, and two empty candle-boxes. The table was a greasy board on stilts, and the table-cloth and napkins had not come--and they were not looking for them, either. A battered tin platter, a knife and fork, and a tin pint cup, were at each man's place, and the driver had a queens-ware saucer that had seen better days. Of course this duke sat at the head of the table. There was one isolated piece of table furniture that bore about it a touching air of grandeur in misfortune. This was the caster. It was German silver, and crippled and rusty, but it was so preposterously out of place there that it was suggestive of a tattered exiled king among barbarians, and the majesty of its native position compelled respect even in its degradation.

There was only one cruet left, and that was a stopperless, fly-specked, broken-necked thing, with two inches of vinegar in it, and a dozen preserved flies with their heels up and looking sorry they had invested there.

For those working the stations, life could be hard and lonesome. Except for the brief flurry of activity when the stage arrived, there was little to do except wait for Indian attacks. Neighbors were rare and far apart - each being twelve to fifteen miles apart. Entertainment would often take the form of dances which frequently took place at the home stations. It was not unusual for the women to ride on horseback or take the stage to travel some ten or thirty miles, dance away the greater part of the night, then ride back home. Some rode as far as fifty miles each way; neighbors and entertainment both being scarce.

By necessity, there were rules applied to the passengers. Wells-Fargo posted these:

Not all stations were up to the standards Ben Holladay expected and more than even a driver who spent a great part of his time on the box could stand. Some stations were filthy, even for a station far out in the boonies (one station at one time being known as "Dirty Woman"). At one station, things were not quite as clean as they might have been. One passenger who had perhaps not "roughed it" much, sat down at the table with the other passengers, and started making some comments about the food, complaining about the amount of dirt. The station operator at once spoke up:

"Well, Sir, I was taught long ago that we must all eat a 'peck of dirt.'"


"I am aware of that fact, my dear Sir," responded the passenger, "but I don't like to eat mine all at once."

Another:
"Along the Platte west of Fort Kearney, for a considerable distance, we for weeks had nothing in the pastry line except dried-apple pie. This article of diet for dessert became so plentiful that not only the drivers and stock tenders rebelled, but the passengers also joined in, some of them "kicking" like Government mules. As a few of the drivers expressed it, it was "dried apple pie from Genesis to Revelations."

Finally the following gem, which very soon had the desired effect, was copied and sent on its way east and west up and down the Platte:

DRIED-APPLE PIES.
I loathe! abhor! detest! despise! Abominate dried-apple pies;
I like good bread; I like good meat, Or anything that's good to eat;
But of all poor grub beneath the skies The poorest is dried-apple pies.
Give me a toothache or sore eyes in preference to such kind of pies.  
The farmer takes his gnarliest fruit, 'Tis wormy, bitter, and hard, to boot;
They leave the hulls to make us cough, And don't take half the peelings off;
Then on a dirty cord they're strung, And from some chamber window hung;
And there they serve a roost for flies Until they 're ready to make pies. T
read on my corns, or tell me lies, But don't pass to me dried-apple pies.

The hostility of the Indians in the early/mid '60's, the difficulty in obtaining supplies on a route so remote from civilization, and the numerous perils incident to floods, snows, tornadoes, etc., rendered the "Overland" one of the great enterprises of the century.

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