Sierra Stories: Dandy Jim to the Rescue

By Mark McLaughlin

Bold visions of instant riches fueled the 1849 California Gold Rush and tens of thousands of intrepid Argonauts inundated the Sierra Nevada foothills searching for valuable precious metal. A few lucky miners achieved the dream; the rest endured months trying to survive in the squalid, miserable mining camps that popped up overnight along the river ravines of the Sierra west slope. The high demand for food, mail and mining equipment encouraged small independent stagecoach lines to proliferate on both sides of the Sierra. The dense population and abundant wealth enabled transportation to flourish without government aid.

Commercial staging got its start in California when one entrepreneur hitched a spirited team of wild mustangs behind a secondhand French carriage and offered passenger service between San Francisco and San Jose. Soon other staging operations sprouted in Sacramento and Stockton, the gateways to the Mother Lode. By 1853 a dozen small lines were fighting for business. The following year the competing stagers merged and formed the California Stage Company. Under the tight reins of company president James Birch, the enterprise soon controlled most of the staging business in the mining country of Northern California. It wasn’t long before they expanded into Southern California and the Oregon Country, eventually operating 2,690 miles of stage routes in all.

The lucrative stage lines were soon challenged by the “express business” that took advantage of miners who would pay exorbitant rates to safely transport their gold or to receive cherished letters from home. The first to capitalize on the miner’s social isolation was Alexander Todd. In 1849, Todd appeared at the mining camp of Jacksonville where he offered to deliver letters to or from San Francisco for 1 ounce of gold dust, or about $16 per letter. Communication with their loved ones was worth more than that to the lonely men and Todd was besieged with business. The fat profit margin lured others into the trade until there were dozens of similar one-man operations scattered throughout the Sierra.

Merger mania eventually swept the express business, too. A large eastern conglomerate, Adams & Company, soon absorbed the hodge-podge of small-time couriers. For a while, Adams & Co. seemed destined to monopolize California expressing. It probably would have if its rival from the East, Wells Fargo & Company, the western branch of the powerful American Express Company, hadn’t joined in the fray. American Express played hardball from the first, ruthlessly cutting prices and quickly challenging its opponent for control of the field. The competition was cutthroat and by 1855 Adams & Company was bankrupt. From that time on Wells Fargo dominated the Western express business.

New roads were constructed and old ones improved so that heavy loads of merchandise and bullion could be transported quickly throughout the mountains. Two toll-roads were built across the Sierra; one called the Placerville and the other Dutch Flat, or the Donner Lake route. These toll roads were wide enough so that teams could pass in even the narrowest places. Water wagons put down the dust and the roads were packed fairly smooth. The stages ran with exacting regularity and all business was conducted with promptness and efficiency.

Wells Fargo displayed the professional decorum of an established, profit-earning business. But, there were plenty of frustrated hard-luck miners, drifters and miscreants who coveted the lucrative cargo Wells Fargo carried. Many of these criminal opportunists saw themselves as the medieval character Robin Hood, “taking from the rich to give to the poor.” Grim and determined, few road agents were killers; it was the Wells Fargo gold chest that they were after.

An article in the Nevada State Journal described a typical robbery; “The men [bandits] were armed with revolvers and made no attempt to molest the passengers, eight in number, but when one or two of them put their heads out of the window they were ordered to take them in or they would have them blown off.”

Western stage drivers had a style all their own. One of the most colorful was the celebrated dandy Jim Miller. Even in an occupation notable for formal attire, with long cloaks and fancy accessories, Miller’s ostentatious style stood out. His hats were the widest Mormon wide-brims available, his Ascot tie held in place by stickpins as large as a lady’s brooch, and his whip stock bound with bands of pure gold. Miller had started out as a stager based in Virginia City, but when the Comstock mines began to peter out, he started another company in the White Pine region of Nevada.

The stagecoach driver was often the only defense against attempted robbery. On one run in the mid-1860s, Miller set out with five passengers and $30,000 in minted gold for a mining payroll. As the stage slowed on a steep pitch, a bandito hidden in the twilight ordered Miller to stop and “throw down the box!” But Miller was in no mood for bandits and without hesitation “he aimed a swinging blow with his buckskin lash at the near-wheel horse and in the same movement drew a heavy dragoon revolver from his cloak. There was a roar of cannon fire from the dragoon. The horses leapt as though the devil was driving, the Concord lurched with terrifying abruptness, and the answering gunfire from the ditch lodged hot lead in the expensive painting on the door. The passengers cowered on the floor, desperately sharing the remains of the evening’s rum. Amazingly, the entire entourage thundered off into the dark with the Wells Fargo treasure intact.”

The grateful passengers were elated at their remarkable escape. When word of his bravado reached Wells Fargo’s headquarters in San Francisco, the company announced that Miller would be awarded “the biggest bullion watch and chain in Nevada.” J.W. Tucker, a well-known San Francisco watchmaker, went to work with a 4-lb. bar of pure gold bullion while artisans forged a complementary watch chain. Together they produced a striking masterpiece. The legendary Comstock newspaperman Alf Doten described the impressive commendation in his 1866 journal entry: “Saw Jim Miller’s watch today – and chain – all of solid Washoe Bullion. Watch and chain weighs four and a half pounds, the watch alone weighs 22 1⁄2 ounces. It has Jim Miller’s name and a coach and eight horses engraved on the outside of one of the cases.” It was the largest and heaviest watch and chain ever seen in the West. Dandy Jim Miller wore it with pride, and deservedly so.

Tahoe historian Mark McLaughlin is a nationally published author and professional speaker. His award-winning books are available at local stores or at www.thestormking.com. Mark may be reached at mark@thestormking.com.