goldfields

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.

John Bidwell met President Lincoln in 1864 and was greatly impressed.

Bidwell believed whole-heartedly in the Union cause. In 1864 he was a California delegate to the Republican National Convention in Baltimore on June 7-8, where Lincoln was renominated for president. Bidwell was in the delegation sent to the White House to inform Lincoln of his renomination.

Upon his return home, he spoke to the Butte County “Lincoln and Johnson Club” on August 10th, 1864, about his experiences. He was pleased to have met with President Lincoln and gave this description, as reported in the Weekly Butte Record:

While at the Capitol, I had the pleasure of several interviews with the President. I found him to be a man possessed of that great and most precious of all natural gifts, plain common sense. Still he was not exactly the man I had expected to see. I had been told that he was continually inclined to jest, and that he did not appear to appreciate the magnitude of our national troubles. Suffice it to say that much injustice has been done Mr. Lincoln in reference to his personal traits. What are called jokes should in most instances be styled apt illustrations. He is calm, reflective, quite fluent in speech, and evidently feels the weight of the responsibility resting upon him. The more I saw of him the better I was pleased, and the more he looked like a President.

(Weekly Butte Record, 20 August 1864)