goldfields

I have a new respect for the seamstresses and tailors of yore. What a lot of work went into a shirt or a waistcoat! And a full three-piece suit — let’s not even go there.

The patterns I used contained complete instructions for sewing the garments by hand, for the true and authentic 19th century experience. I am not that dedicated and did most of the work on my trusty Bernina sewing machine. Even so, there was a fair amount of hand-stitching to be done, especially on the shirt. And 19th century men’s shirts were voluminous — longer and fuller than men’s shirts today.

And yet in 1850 a man could buy a shirt for less than a dollar. Unless he was mining in California. In 1849 at Bidwell’s Bar and other mining camps a shirt sold for $8. Men were astonished at the prices.

On Thursday I am doing a school presentation, and I am taking “John Bidwell” with me to talk to the kids. Here is a picture of Nick Anderson in his new Bidwell outfit. All he needs is a cravat, and his costume will be complete.

I feel like I ought to be writing more blog posts. I have some topics I’d like to research and write about. But instead I have been sewing.

I have a friend named Nick Anderson who portrays John Bidwell at events put on by the Bidwell Mansion Association. He and I are going to take our show on the road next week and visit a couple of 4th grade classes at Fairview School in Orland during the school’s Community Read-In. I’ve gone and talked about John Bidwell before, but I never actually brought him with me. I think it will be great fun!

At Mansion events Nick wears a fabulous 19th Century frock coat. But I didn’t want to ask to borrow that from State Parks. So I decided to make a vest, using this pattern from Past Patterns. And here it is — I finished it last night. Let’s just hope it fits.

Next I want to make a shirt. Here’s the pattern for that. And now I am going to get off the computer and go cut out some fabric.

Just as John Bidwell had his casaba melons, so Henry Wallace had his banana squash. Grown right here in Chico, the giant squash shown in this photo played a role in the presidential campaign of 1948. This item came via the Facebook page “You know you’re from Chico when . . . ” and was posted by Suzanne Stone.

The squash in the picture was grown by Joe Stutz of Chico, Ms. Stone’s grandfather. He cut the letters in the squash rind when it was small. As the squash grew the cuts scarred over and formed the slogan.  Mr. Stutz was an ardent fan of Henry Wallace, who had served as Secretary of Agriculture. Secretary of Commerce, and Vice President under Franklin D. Roosevelt.

In 1944 Wallace was dropped by the Democratic Party in favor of Harry Truman for Vice President, so in 1948 he ran on the Progressive Party ticket for President against Truman, Republican Thomas Dewey, and “Dixiecrat” Strom Thurmond. He won about 2.4% of the popular vote.

The article about oddities in American politics came the website Past Daily, which features a variety of historic and cultural stories, and is well worth checking out.

A snippet from a letter by John Bidwell gives a glimpse into his political views in 1891. The image may be difficult to make out — it reads as follows:

What political party do you belong to? As to myself, I am a Prohibitionist – have lost all faith in the old parties – they are corrupt – non-progressive – controlled by the liquor and foreign vote. I believe in progress – that Americans should rule this county – that all the corrupt rings and monopolies must be overthrown – and that women should be given the ballot.

Bidwell wrote the letter to Nicolas “Cheyenne” Dawson in 1891. Dawson was one of the few members of the 1841 emigrant party to California still surviving. He was living in Texas, and wrote to Bidwell for news about others in their party.

John Bidwell considered himself a progressive — he stood for a number of social reforms — not only prohibition of alcohol, but also control of monopolies, educational reform, restrictions on immigration, the Australian ballot, and votes for women.

When Bidwell ran for president in 1982 he only got 2% of the national vote, but one of those votes came from Texas, where Nicolas Dawson voted for his old traveling companion.

Back in November 2014 a metal box was discovered in the base of the pioneer monument that sits on the corner of The Esplanade and So-Wil-En-No Ave. A mystery time capsule! What wonders might it hold?

At the time I wrote:

What do you guess might be inside the box? A dry and dusty scroll commemorating the occasion? Pictures by school children? Mementos of John and Annie? A nice big gold nugget?

Don’t we all wish it were John’s first gold nugget or Annie’s Cherokee diamond ring! But it looks like the contents are closer to my first guess: a list of donors. Today the results of the investigation were announced, and you can read about it in the Chico Enterprise-Record. Quoting Ranger Kirk Coon, the article states:

“We are all so excited about what this process revealed,” said Kirk Coon, state parks valley sector supervising ranger, in a press release. “What appeared to be a disintegrated roll of paper turned into pages of readable names of people who donated for the monument. Many school children and other community member’s names are clearly visible.”

Beginning this Saturday you can visit Bidwell Mansion SHP and view the unrolled and carefully preserved contents of the time capsule. Perhaps you will recognize a name. Come take a look and see a bit of Chico history.

I was reminded this afternoon by Sandy Hill that I never followed up on the origin of the name of So-Wil-Len-No Avenue, which she asked about in a comment. The background is interesting, and worth knowing for any Chicoan who enjoys learning about local history.

So-Wil-Len-No Ave. runs between Bidwell Mansion State Historic Park and Big Chico Creek, from The Esplanade to Arcadian Ave. There it turns into a campus road, and ends at Tehama Hall. Once upon a time it went further, at least as far as Warner Ave. No structure has an address on So-Wil-Len-No, as far as I know. Google maps spells it Sol-wil-le-no, but what do they know?

It is also sometimes spelled without the hyphens, as Sowillenno Avenue.

The avenue was named by Annie Bidwell for her dear friend, Maggie Lafonso. Maggie’s Indian name, according to Annie’s notebook, was So-will-len-no, as you can see in the image below. This notebook is in the Bancroft Library. Maggie’s name is the last in the list.

Maggie Lafonso was the daughter of Amanda and Holai Lafonso, the Mechoopda rancheria chief. Annie seems to have known that Amanda was the daughter of John Bidwell, a fact considered common knowledge among tribal members today. Maggie was therefore John Bidwell’s grand-daughter and someone whom Annie would have given particular attention and care.

Maggie is frequently mentioned in Annie Bidwell’s diary. She had a lovely singing voice and often sang in the Mechoopda church. She worked together with Annie in establishing the church, teaching and leading worship services. Annie relied on her as a liaison with the Indians on the rancheria and as a co-worker in Christian good works.

On December 21, 1907 Maggie, aged 25, married Joseph Mitchell, an Indian from Colusa. Annie recorded the event in her diary:

Sat., December 21.

Maggie Lafonso married this Evg. Maggie notified me of her intended marriage at 6 this P.M. Invited me to marry her, but I told her it would be illegal. She then said she wished Mr. White if I could not. Young Head took Mr. White & I to village in his automobile to see if they had a license, “yes”.

At 6 P.M. Mr. White & I were at Maggie’s mother’s, where she was married to Mr. Mitchell in parlor. Present: Santa & Amanda Wilson & family. Billy Preacher, Pablo, Hayce, Martha (brides-maid) & others of family. Maggie & Martha dressed in white. Mr. Mitchell & Maggie represented in reverent attitude, at prayer, the figures in the Angelus. I spoke of it to Mr. White who said he had seen it.

Maggie and Joe Mitchell

Sadly, Maggie Lafonso Mitchell passed away after childbirth in 1909. Annie, who had visited her frequently in her illness, was overwhelmed with sorrow at the death of her “beloved Maggie,” and memorialized her in the name of the avenue that ran alongside Bidwell Mansion.