goldfields

Pres Longley came down from Helltown and stayed at the Chico Hotel, perhaps paying his bar tab with the following poem:

If you travel to Chico by stage or by rail,
By buggy or horseback, you never should fail
To stop at the Chico Hotel, where you’ll find
A welcome that’s warm among friends that are kind.
A table well-filled with choicest of things 
That would please epicures among princes and kings.
Cigars and fine drinks, at the bar you’ll obtain,
Though you smoke and you sip, you will never complain;
And the beds, if you try them you’ll like them I know,
For the sheets are as white as the beautiful snow,
And then, in the reading-room, pleasant and bland,
You’ll find all the news that’s afloat in the land.

     (published in the Chico Enterprise, April 11, 1879)

The first Chico Hotel was built in 1869, but the hotel burned down more than once. It was located at The Junction (where Broadway, Main, Park Ave., Humboldt Road, and 8th and 9th streets come together), and here it is in 1890.

This ad for the Chico Hotel appeared in the same newspaper issue that published Pres’s poem. French cooks! Pretty classy.

However, the Chico Hotel was one of the hotels in Chico which, according to Philip A. Bell, “refuse to admit a colored person within their doors.” He and his friends stayed at the Central Hotel, located on Broadway between 3rd and 4th streets. I don’t have a picture of it but here is their ad..

Philip A. Bell, born in New York City in 1808, came to California during the Civil War and in 1865 founded The Elevator, a San Francisco newspaper that covered events in the Black Community and advocated for Black suffrage and other causes important to African Americans.

In 1874 he visited Chico to take part in the 4th annual celebration of the passage of the 15th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution. In the April 18th edition of his newspaper he described Chico and saw much to admire.

Not having completed our business in Chico we concluded to remain a couple of days longer; and we made our visit both profitable and pleasant. By invitation of Gen. Bidwell we witnessed the working of a newly invented machine for leveling roads, which was highly satisfactory. The machine has a large steel blade, or share of steel, and was drawn by a team of ten mules.

It would have been fun to see that at work on the unpaved streets of Chico.

Bell’s impressions of Chico were favorable. “It is really a beautiful little place, now dignified with city privileges,” having been incorporated in 1872. “It is situated in a fertile valley of rich, alluvial soil, and has the advantages of grain and timber. The crops are always productive. We were informed by General Bidwell that a failure has never been known in Chico valley.”

“The city contains about 2500 inhabitants”, and he goes on to list various flourishing businesses: planing mills, carpenters, wheelwrights and blacksmiths. And hotels– “There are three hotels, the Central House, the Chico Hotel and Union House. At the Central, kept by Messrs. Clark and Trimble, the visitors to the celebration were well accommodated. The other houses refuse to admit a colored person within their doors.” Chico wasn’t perfect.

The Town Hall is a neat unpretentious building, erected on a lot donated by General Bidwell. The churches consist of Episcopalian, Presbyterian, Catholic and three Methodist Churches : the M. E. [Methodist Episcopal]Church North, M. E. Church South, and A. M. E Bethel Church; all built on laud donated by Mr. Bidwell. He also gave a large tract of land in the heart of the town to the Northern California Agricultural Association on which the Pavilion is erected.

He also lists the banks, newspapers, and fraternal lodges in town, and then goes on to focus on prominent African American men and their businesses. As Michele Shover has said, “The late 1860s and the early 1870s constituted the pinnacle of nineteenth century black experience”*and the black citizens of Chico for the most part were doing well.

There are several tonsorial and bathing establishments. Beverley Henderson has a handsome Saloon and is doing well. Peter Jackson is temporarily situated, but is fitting a saloon with all modern improvements. Wm H. Stewart has settled permanently in Chico and is preparing to go to business. He has sold, or is about selling his farm in Tehama, and is fitting up a handsome Hair Dressing, Shaving and Bathing Saloon. Peter Powers has a Fruit and Vegetable Store, and is well patronized. Mrs. Catanche, formerly of Grass Valley, is the principal Ladies’ Hair Dresser in town and is well satisfied with the change. Edward Holmes keeps a saloon to which we were invited, but did not have time to visit. The colored residents of Chico are doing well and living comfortably. We believe nearly all are owners of property, and are highly respected by all classes of citizens. We learn there are several colored farmers in the vicinity of Chico; likewise a number of mechanics.

*Michele Shover, “The Black Experience in Chico, 1860-1899: Climbing the Slippery Slope,” in Exploring Chico’s Past and other Essays, (2005), p. 146. The essay contains more information about the people mentioned here and is highly recommended for anyone interested in African American life in Northern California.

What Juneteenth is to black history today, the celebration of the ratification of the 15th Amendment to the U.S. Constitution was to 19th century black Americans. The amendment prohibited the federal government or any state from denying or abridging a citizen’s right to vote on the basis of “race, color, or previous condition of servitude.” The ratification of the amendment was certified on March 30, 1870, and celebrations began to take place on dates in early April for at least the next few years.

In April 1874 the editor of The Elevator, a San Francisco newspaper serving the black community, came to Chico to witness Chico’s celebration.

The celebration was held on Monday, April 6th. Editor Bell and his group came in two railroad excursion cars from Sacramento, along with members of a Sacramento brass band and the Sacramento Zouaves, a black militia unit formed in 1867, designed for both military training and political action. The day’s events began with a demonstration of anvil-firing, “an excellent substitute for cannon.”

The parade, led by the brass band, moved from the train depot up 5th Street to Broadway, down Broadway to the Junction, up Main to Front Street (now 1st), down Front to Broadway, and along Broadway to the pavilion, which stood between 4th and 5th across Broadway from City Plaza. “Every available vehicle in Chico was in the procession, and made quite an imposing array,” according to editor Bell, including General Bidwell, who had “a double team buggy drawn by a pair of beautiful black horses.”

The Zouaves colorful uniforms and precise maneuvers were a big hit with the parade spectators. I wish I could find a photograph.

The young lady portraying the Goddess of Liberty was the daughter of Peter Powers — probably his oldest daughter, Martha Jane, who was 16 years old.

The parade was followed by a “collation” in the pavilion and “exercises,” consisting of an invocation, speeches, poetry, band music, and an oration by the Rev. William H. Hillery of San Francisco. At 4 o’clock the Zouaves gave an exhibition of “their inimitable Tap Drill” on the Plaza, followed by a grand ball in the evening.

It was a full day of celebrating. The Chico Weekly Enterprise, rather condescendingly, said that “Our colored citizens have covered themselves with credit, and have in suitable manner and perfect decorum given observance to the occasion, which to them has the same significance that the fourth of July, has to the white citizen.” John Bidwell remarked in his diary: “Fifteenth Amendment celebration by the colored people of the State – grand time!”

Philip Bell stayed on for two more days to look over the town of Chico. I’ll write about his impressions next time.

On the morning of April 4, 1900, John Bidwell set out to mark a new road along Big Chico Creek. Driving the wagon was William Conway, one of his oldest Mechoopda employees. Also in the wagon was Florence Blake, a maid at Bidwell Mansion who came along to open gates and hold the horses while Bidwell showed William the work he wanted done. Florence would later write a statement for Annie Bidwell about her husband’s sudden turn of ill health.

Florence reported that when the General got down from the wagon he stamped his foot and exclaimed, “There! I am as spry as a young boy.” He had always led an active life and he enjoyed nothing more than marking out a new road. Although he had grown portly over the years, at six feet tall and 225 pounds (as weighed on the scale at the flour mill) he was by no means obese.

Another workman, Harry, was burning a stump. Bidwell poked at the fire, gave directions, and did some sawing with William Conway. Florence kept her eyes on the General, worried that as he walked around he might trip over a limb or a stone. Instead, she heard him call her, then sit down on a log “with his head held down as if he had the neuralgia.” He had had these attacks of “neuralgia” before, which were probably not nerve irritation, but minor heart attacks. While Harry went to town for help, Florence and Conway tended to Bidwell, laying him down and loosening his clothing. “As he commenced to rally,” wrote Florence, “he wanted to be propped up and complained of too much weight on his chest though there was nothing there.”

When help arrived he was taken back to the Mansion. Three doctors, including Dr. Oscar Stansbury and Bidwell’s cousin, Dr. Ella Gatchell, were called to attend. For a time, he seemed to improve, but he suffered a relapse and died in his bed at 2:30 p.m.

The news of his sudden and unexpected death spread quickly. Businesses in town immediately began decorating their buildings in mourning as flags were lowered to half-staff and the bells of the city tolled.

The funeral was delayed for a week until Annie’s sister and other relatives could arrive from the East Coast. On the day of the funeral the coffin was displayed on the Mansion porch, surrounded by floral tributes. In accordance with Annie’s wishes, and because of the crowds of people wishing to attend, the funeral was conducted from the porch of the Mansion. Businesses closed, children were let out of school, and classes at the Normal School were cancelled.

After prayers, hymns, and eulogies, the funeral procession proceeded to the cemetery. Children scattered flowers along the way. General John Bidwell was laid to rest near the entrance of the cemetery he had set aside 50 years earlier. A large boulder, weighing six or seven tons was brought down from the mountains to serve as a headstone. On it was engraved simply his name: John Bidwell.

California State Parks has launched a number of ways to engage the public in “reimagining” the future of Bidwell Mansion, since the devastating fire that consumed the Mansion in December 2024.

If you are a downtown Farmer’s Market shopper, stop by the Reimagine Bidwell Mansion pop-up booth this Saturday, March 28th. It’s your chance to talk to a real live State Parks employee and express your opinion.

A Virtual Community Workshop will be held on Tuesday, April 14, from 6–7:30 p.m. Register to attend.

The Reimagine Bidwell Mansion webpage also has an Online Public Survey. It takes about 15 minutes to complete and invites feedback on visitor experiences, potential options for the fire-damaged structure, future educational programs, and possible changes to park facilities. The survey will remain open through Friday, April 24.

Keep in contact: At the Reimagine Bidwell Mansion webpage, you can leave your name and email address to receive project updates.

Bret Harte knew how quickly a California spring could turn into a California summer. Enjoy!

California Madrigal (On the Approach of Spring)

Oh, come, my beloved, from thy winter abode,
From thy home on the Yuba, thy ranch overflowed;
For the waters have fallen, the winter has fled,
And the river once more has returned to its bed.

Oh, mark how the spring in its beauty is near!
How the fences and tules once more reappear!
How soft lies the mud on the banks of yon slough
By the hole in the levee the waters broke through!

All nature, dear Chloris, is blooming to greet
The glance of your eye and the tread of your feet;
For the trails are all open, the roads are all free,
And the highwayman’s whistle is heard on the lea.

Again swings the lash on the high mountain trail,
And the pipe of the packer is scenting the gale;
The oath and the jest ringing high o’er the plain,
Where the smut is not always confined to the grain.

Once more glares the sunlight on awning and roof,
Once more the red clay’s pulverized by the hoof,
Once more the dust powders the ‘outsides’ with red,
Once more at the station the whiskey is spread.

Then fly with me, love, ere the summer’s begun,
And the mercury mounts to one hundred and one;
Ere the grass now so green shall be withered and sear,
In the spring that obtains but one month in the year.