_STAGECOACH DAYS_
For twenty-three years after the coming of the first sightseers,
Yosemite Valley was accessible only by horse trail. The twelve thousand
tourists, who frantically clung to their Yosemite-bound steeds during
this period, included many Easterners and Europeans not accustomed to
mountain trails. They had departed surcharged with enthusiasm but
sometimes were caustic in their expressions regarding their mode of
conveyance and the crudity of the facilities found at their disposal
both en route and in the valley. Not a few of the comments made by
visitors found their way into print. Yosemite bibliography is not
limited to items printed in English. The entire world sent
representatives to the valley during that first period of travel, and
foreign literature carried the story of Yosemite wonders quite as did
American publications. The reader may form some opinion of what the
printed word has done for Yosemite, if he will scan the titles which are
given in the bibliography appended to this volume. In addition to these,
of course, are hundreds of books and articles to which no reference has
been made in the present work.
The merchants of the towns along the routes of approach, as well as the
businessmen within the valley itself, felt the need of providing more
adequately for the greater numbers that might be brought to their
attractions. Foremost among the provisions, naturally, was the
construction of wagon roads.
To Dr. John T. McLean, the president of the Coulterville and Yosemite
Turnpike Company, belongs the honor of first making the Yosemite Valley
accessible to wheeled vehicles. The Coulterville Company was formed in
1859. It had extended its road to Crane Flat, and, at the insistence of
Dr. McLean, arranged with the Yosemite commissioners to build and
maintain a toll road to the floor of Yosemite Valley. The commissioners
had agreed that this company should have exclusive rights on the north
side of Yosemite Valley; that is, no other company was to build a road
into the valley from the north for a period of ten years. Under this
agreement, the Coulterville Road was projected in 1870 and completed to
the Merced River in 1874. The following paragraph from a letter sent by
Dr. McLean to the president of the Yosemite National Park Commission,
1899, gives interesting information on the discovery[5] of the Merced
Grove of Big Trees, as well as a statement regarding the opening of the
Coulterville Road:
While making a survey for this road a grove of big trees was
discovered, its existence not having been previously known except to
Indians before these explorations for the building of this road were
prosecuted. It was determined to carry the road directly through this
grove, which was named the Merced Grove by me because of its nearness
to the Merced River. In order to carry the proposed road through this
new-found grove of _Sequoia gigantea_ it was necessary, in order to
secure the best grades and shortest distances to Yosemite, to leave
the road already built at Hazel Green instead of at Crane Flat six
miles farther east. It was thought the greater length of road required
to start from Hazel Green and build through the Merced Grove would be
compensated by the advantage the road would have of passing through
this grove of over 50 _Sequoias_ on the way to Yosemite. The
additional cost in construction of the road by reason of this new
departure from Hazel Green instead of from Crane Flat was about
$10,000. The work of construction was vigorously prosecuted, and on
June 17, 1874, the Yosemite was first opened to travel by wheeled
vehicles over this road, on that day a number of stage coaches and
passenger and freight teams passing over it to the level of the
valley.
The Big Oak Flat and Yosemite Turnpike Company applied to extend their
road to Yosemite Valley after the commissioners had conveyed exclusive
rights to the Coulterville Road. The commissioners refused to violate
their agreement with McLean’s company, but the Big Oak Flat Company
secured the passage of an act by the state legislature, which granted
the privilege asked. In July, 1874, the Big Oak Flat Road was completed
to the floor of Yosemite. Needless to say, this second road functioned
to the everlasting detriment of the Coulterville route.
In the fall of 1874, Washburn, Chapman, Coffman and Company of Mariposa
sought the right to extend their Mariposa Road to Yosemite Valley. The
commissioners granted their request on the same terms as given to the
Coulterville Company. On July 22, 1875, amid much celebrating, the
Mariposa Road was completed to the valley floor.
The easier mode of travel introduced by this road construction, coupled
with the increased publicity from the pen and brush of enthusiasts, made
for a substantial increase in the number of Yosemite visitors. In
keeping with this wagon-road building was the steady extension of the
Central Pacific Railroad. Stockton, Modesto, Copperopolis, Berenda,
Merced, and Madera were, in turn, the terminals. Seven routes to
Yosemite made bids for the tourist travel. The Milton and Calaveras
route permitted of railroad conveyance to Milton. Those who were induced
to take the Berenda-Grants Springs route took the train to Raymond. The
Madera-Fresno Flats route afforded railroad-coach transportation to
Madera. The Modesto-Coulterville route meant leaving the rails at
Modesto. The Merced-Coulterville route involved staging from Merced. The
Mariposa route also required detraining at Merced, but the stage route
followed took travelers through Hornitos and Mariposa. Those tourists
who chose the Milton-Big Oak Flat route left the train at Copperopolis
and traveled in the stage to Chinese Camp, Priests, and into the valley
on the Big Oak Flat Road. Dodgers, pamphlets, and guidebooks furnished
by the competing towns and stage companies produced a confusion to say
the least.
The conveyances were of two types. At the height of the season, when
travel was heavy and roads dry, the Standard Concord Coach was employed.
At other times, a vehicle commonly termed a “mud wagon” was put to use.
During this era of horse-drawn vehicles, the trains of pack mules were,
of course, replaced by great freight wagons. Today, in driving over the
old wagon roads, one is led to wonder how passenger vehicles succeeded
in passing the great freight outfits.
Some years ago, in searching through the objects left in a deserted
house in the ghost town, Bodie, I came upon a manuscript describing
staging as it was practiced in that famous mining camp. What the unknown
author has to say about the business there applies to neighboring
mountain regions, and is a reminder of a phase of life of the ’eighties.
The stage coach is to California what the modern express train is to
Indiana, and people unaccustomed to mountain life can form but little
conception of the vast amount of transportation carried on by means of
coaches and freight wagons.
Even though California may truly be termed the “Eden” of America, yet
there is not a county in the state but has more or less traffic for
the stage coach, and in the northern and eastern part of the state,
especially, there is an entire network of well-graded roads,
resembling Eastern pikes. These roads are mostly owned by corporations
and, consequently, are toll roads.
Over these are run the fast stages drawn by from two to ten large
horses, and the great freight wagons drawn by from fourteen to twenty
mules.
The stage lines have divisions, as do railroads, and at the end of
each division there is a change of horses, thus giving the greatest
possible means for quick conveyance. Over each line there are
generally two stages per day, one each way. These carry passengers,
mail, and all express traffic. At each town is a Wells Fargo office,
and business is carried on in a similar manner to that of railroad
express offices. Telegraph lines are in use along the most important
roads.
The stage lines have time cards similar to railroads, and in case a
stage is a few minutes late, it causes as much anxiety as does the
delay of an O. & M. express. A crowd is always waiting at the express
office; some are there for business, others through some curiosity and
to size up the passengers.
A stage from a mining town usually contains a bar of gold bullion
worth $25,000, which is being shipped to the mint. Bullion is shipped
from each mine once a month, but people always know when this precious
metal is aboard by the appearance of a fat, burly officer perched
beside the stage-driver, with two or three double-barreled shotguns.
He, of course, is serving as a kind of scarecrow to the would-be stage
robbers.
The average fare for riding on a stage is 15 cents per mile.
The manner in which freight is transported is quite odd, especially to
a “Hoosier.” Wagons of the largest size are used. Some of these
measure twelve feet from the ground to the top of the wagon bed; then
bows and canvas are placed over this, making a total height of fifteen
feet, at least. Usually three or four of these wagons are coupled
together, like so many cars, and then drawn by from fourteen to twenty
large mules. All these are handled by a single driver. A team of this
kind travels, when heavily loaded, about fifteen miles per day, the
same being spoken of always as the slow freight. In some mining
districts, however, where business is flush, extra stages are put on
for freight alone. These are termed the fast freights. This business
involves a large capital, and persons engaged in it are known as
forwarding companies. Even the freight or express on goods from New
York is sometimes collected a hundred miles from any railroad, and so
even to those living in the remote mountain regions, this is about as
convenient, and they seem to enjoy life as well as if living in a
railroad town.
The city of Bodie has its entire freight and passenger traffic carried
as mentioned above. A short time ago its population was 10,000; there
were three daily papers and free mail delivery, and all the
improvements necessary to any modern town or city.
The prospect of a holdup always added to the thrill of staging. Yosemite
literature is not replete with road agent episodes, but highwaymen did
occasionally appear along the routes to the valley. “Black Bart,” whose
fame as a gentleman stage robber was world-wide during the early
’eighties, met his downfall in the Yosemite region on his twenty-eighth
robbery.
Black Bart was a very unusual bandit. He took no human lives. In fact,
he never fired a weapon in any of his exploits. He carried an unloaded
shotgun and bluffed, successfully, twenty-seven times. His forays began
in 1877, and his returns were such that he was enabled to reside in San
Francisco as a respected and rather dapper citizen. His absence from the
city on the occasions of his robberies was accounted for through his
story of visiting mines in which he held interests. His desire to be
well dressed and his penchant for clean linen proved his undoing. It was
a laundry mark on a handkerchief which brought about his capture after
his twenty-eighth robbery.
Not all the holdups along Yosemite roads took place in the distant past.
D. J. Foley’s _Yosemite Tourist_ for July 10, 1906, carries the
following account of a robbery that brings the melodramatic influence of
highwaymen into the very end of the period of stage coach days. It was
entitled “Five Stages Held Up by the Lone Highwayman of the Chowchilla,
An Event Full of Excitement and Interest,” and reads:
This is the story of a plain, ordinary “hold-up” of the
Raymond-Wawona-Yosemite stages; and the time was Saturday afternoon at
ten minutes of four. The place was about six miles this side of
Ahwahnee, upon the side of the Chowchilla Mountain, about a mile and a
half this side of where a similar, but less important, event took
place last August.
The point, carefully selected by the bold robber was an ideal one. The
road here is in the form of the letter _S_, flattened out, and he
selected the upper part of the letter, about all of the other parts
being visible.
The first stage was in charge of Will Palmer, one of the new drivers.
Puffing and sweating, the team of four were rounding the turn in the
road, when Walter Brode, who, with Mrs. F. J. House, occupied the
front seat, yelled: “Hold up!” For up the road a hundred or more feet
away he saw the fellow jump out from behind some brush and, with his
old 44 Winchester up to his shoulder, he was advancing toward them.
And in tones, musical and soft but determined, he said:
“Throw out that box!”
The driver was not aware of the presence of the express box, but it
was there and Mr. Seth Hart threw it out like a gentleman.
“Get out of that stage,” came the cool, determined command,
supplemented with that ugly-looking 44.
And out they got.
Then he requested one of the ladies, Miss Bowen, to “pass the hat
around,” which she did under protest.
The other stage was then about due and so he moved down the road a bit
to a point where he could keep them well “covered,” and yet not be
seen by the approaching stage. In the meantime all their hands were
up, for that big “44” was pointed their way.
Around the turn came the second stage with “Josh” Wrenn as driver. No
especial importance was attributed to the unusual sight, believing it
to be a joke. But the illusion was quickly dispelled when out rang
that soft and musical command: “Get out of the stage,” and out they
got, the vicious-looking “44” being much in evidence. He lined them up
with the others and then ordered a boy of about fifteen to “pass the
hat around.” The boy was badly scared, and justly, too, and was about
to comply with the request, when up spoke C. E. McStay, a well-known
business man of Los Angeles, who very kindly offered to take the boy’s
place. To this the robber consented, not suspecting the “job” that was
so quickly put up on him. For “job” it was, and one, too, that saved
the passengers many dollars and valuables. “I quickly thought of and
settled this proposition,” said Mr. McStay. “If that boy passes the
hat and searches us, for this is what he was ordered to do, he will
not use any discretion, and we will all be heavy losers; whereas, if I
can do that honor I shall take but little, unless I have to.” All this
and more, too, was thought out by Mr. McStay in less time than it
takes to write this, and so he acted at once, and to him is due the
credit of the “buncoing” that followed; for this mild-mannered,
soft-voiced Lone Highwayman of the Chowchilla was most thoroughly
“buncoed” in this change of “hat passers,” and he suspected it even
before the first stage was ordered to “move on.” But that’s another
story.
And so in the fullness of his nerve—it’s the real California-Los
Angeles kind, too, Mr. McStay became the apparent Chief Assistant of
the Lone Highwayman of the Chowchilla.
The third stage drove up in due time with the experience of the second
stage duplicated. The fourth wagon had a load of ladies, and he did
not order them to get out. Tho thus honored it was from this wagon
that he secured most of his coin. The passengers of the fifth wagon
“lined up” with the others. On this stage, in charge of the driver, Ed
Gordon, was a sack, for the Sugar Pine Mills, with over $500 in it.
From the zig-zag below they saw the crowd “lined up” and they,
suspecting the cause, helped the driver to hide the sack under the
cushion of the seat.
During the forty-year period which rightly may be considered as the
stagecoach era, a combination of influences were at work. Politics sadly
affected the management of the state grant (brought into existence in
1864), and sheep threatened the upper country not under the jurisdiction
of the Yosemite commissioners. A national park came into existence which
physically encompassed the state park and figuratively engulfed the
state management.
Improvements grew apace. New hotels and public camp grounds were
created; trails were built; the road system was improved and enlarged;
electricity developed; and a climax reached with the construction of a
railroad almost to the very gates of the valley. In 1907 the Yosemite
Valley Railroad changed the entire aspect of stagecoach days by bringing
its coaches to El Portal.
With the advent of this new transportation, the long stage ride was no
longer necessary, but great fleets of horsedrawn vehicles were still
employed to convey visitors from the railhead to Yosemite Valley. The
various stage companies continued to operate, but except for the Big
Tree routes, their traffic was greatly reduced. The Yosemite Valley
Railroad menaced the business of staging, but a far more ominous threat
had already appeared on the scene. Motor-driven vehicles were proving to
be a success. The automobile was introduced to Yosemite more than a
decade prior to the time when its official entry was permitted by park
regulations. The first car to climb the Yosemite grades was a Stanley
Steamer, and its driver was A. E. Holmes of San Jose. In a letter to J.
V. Lloyd, Mr. Holmes testifies as follows:
This trip was made in the month of July [1900] by way of Madera and
Raymond in a Stanley Steamer car that was manufactured just outside of
the city of Boston. I was accompanied on this trip by my brother, F.
H. Holmes.
At that time Boysen took our photographs in the Valley; one at the
foot of Yosemite Falls, and another near Mirror Lake.
The body that is shown in the photograph is not the original body that
came with the car, but one that was made just for the trip into the
Yosemite.
To what extent noisy automobiles were regarded as a menace may be sensed
upon considering the following “Instruction” posted about the park and
published with _Rules and Regulations_ during the later years of the
stagecoach era:
(4) _Bicycles._—The greatest care must be exercised by persons using
bicycles. On meeting a team the rider must stop and stand at side of
road between the bicycle and the team—the outer side of the road if on
a grade or curve. In passing a team from the rear, the rider should
learn from the driver if his horses are liable to frighten, in which
case the driver should halt, and the rider dismount and walk past,
keeping between the bicycle and the team....
(9) _Miscellaneous._—Automobiles and motor cycles are not permitted in
the park.
What the railroad did to the stagecoach, the automobile, aided by storm,
did to the railroad. On December 11, 1937, as a result of prolonged and
heavy warm rains which melted the early snow cover at elevations as high
as 10,000 feet, a flood developed in the basins of Yosemite and Tenaya
creeks, and to a lesser degree in the other Yosemite watersheds. The
notch at the top of Yosemite Falls was filled almost to the brim with
muddy water that was estimated to leap 150 feet away from the cliff at
the top. In the valley itself Yosemite Creek was half a mile wide, and
the Merced River overflowed its banks on a similar rampage. Flood scars
were clearly visible in the chutes of the valley walls nine years later.
In the Merced Canyon far below the valley several miles of both the
All-Year Highway and the Yosemite Valley Railway were destroyed.
The expense of replacing miles of twisted rails and missing roadbed, the
loss of passenger traffic to automobile travel, and finally the loss of
freight revenue when the Yosemite Sugar Pine Lumber Company sold its
major holdings, combined to put the railway out of business. In 1945,
wrecking crews took up the track, and another pioneer railroad
disappeared.
[Illustration: Horse-drawn stagecoach]