
Subway Cave, a lava tube near Lassen Volcanic National Park. Nothing to do with the tunnels in this post.
Does every town in California, or the nation, have stories about secret tunnels under the buildings and under the streets? I know Chico does — maybe your town does too.

Stansbury House in Chico
Just last week a fellow I know said he knew the man who used to be the caretaker at Stansbury House. The man’s name was Tom, and Tom took him down into the cellar and showed him the tunnel that the Chinese used to get to Dr. Stansbury. This sounded bogus to me, but I have never been in the basement of the Stansbury House, so how would I know?
I mentioned it to John Gallardo, who has been the caretaker at Stansbury House for many years. He told me that there are no tunnels under Stansbury House and there was never a caretaker named Tom.
And when you think about it: Where would that tunnel go? Dr. Stansbury didn’t live next door to Chinatown, not the old one and not the new one. How many blocks would that tunnel have to run?
My friend Sandy Hill told me that when she was going to Chico High School, she heard stories that John Bidwell had a tunnel from his Mansion to the creek so he could sneak out and go the Indian village.
Guess what? No tunnels running under the lawn at Bidwell Mansion either. At one time the Indian village (or rancheria) was quite close to the mansion, but Annie was upset with the wailings she heard during a two-day funeral, and so in March 1869 (a year after Annie arrived) Bidwell had the rancheria moved a mile away. That would have made for a very long tunnel!
More plausible are the stories of tunnels under the buildings of downtown Chico. In many cities the old buildings have basements, and often these basements were connected, one building to another. That would facilitate moving goods, going from building to building out of the weather, and maybe more clandestine activities. Basements could be used for opium dens, gambling dens, and speakeasies.

Underground opium den in San Francisco, 1906. Image courtesy of Bancroft Library and Calisphere.
My husband says he saw this kind of tunnel and room arrangement under an old building in downtown Bakersfield many years ago. He was told the room had been a Chinese opium den, and that may well be true.
If anyone has an authentic story about spooky basements and tunnels in Chico, I’d like to hear it. Just don’t tell me about a tunnel that runs under Chico Creek, so that John Bidwell could go to a saloon and get a drink without Annie knowing.

William M. Gwin got everything he wanted out of California, and he got it quickly.
Between the first of September and the thirteenth of October, the 48 delegates met in Colton Hall and hammered out a constitution for California. One of their jobs was to set the boundaries of California. We are so used to California as it looks today that we don’t think it might have been otherwise, but Gwin wanted California to consist of all the vast lands taken from Mexican in the Mexican War, except for Texas. Finally the men decided that the Sierra Nevada range would make a natural eastern boundary for the state.
If you covet a seat in the U.S. Senate, one way to get it is to find a place that is just about to become a state, and make yourself a leader in state politics. Come with the air of a man who already knows the ins and outs of Washington, D.C., and lesser men may give way before you.
John Bidwell was not only an American pioneer on the California Trail, he was California’s foremost pioneer in agriculture. Agriculture was Bidwell’s consuming passion and lifelong pursuit. After discovering gold at Bidwell Bar, he was able to purchase Rancho del Arroyo Chico, a 22,000-acre Mexican land grant. The development of his ranch as an agricultural showcase was his enduring mission.
But Bidwell saw the Sacramento Valley’s potential for a much greater variety of crops. He planted the first peach trees, raised the first raisin grapes, and produced the first olive oil in Butte County.




You will never experience that emotion reading JoAnn Levy’s For California’s Gold (University Press of Colorado, 2000). As the author of They Saw the Elephant: Women in the California Gold Rush, JoAnn knows the pioneer experience better than anyone.
Ghosts of Gold Mountain, by Gordon H. Chang, is “the epic story of the Chinese who built the transcontinental railroad,” a book that combines faultless scholarship with compelling storytelling. (published by Houghton, Mifflin, Harcourt, 2019; available at your public library.)



