California Admission Day in Los Angeles Newspapers, 1854-1869

by Paul R. Spitzzeri

On this date 175 years ago, California was admitted as the 31st state in the American Union and not without considerable controversy and debate. The seizure of the Mexican department of Alta California in 1846-1847 took place during the Mexican-American War, which was described by then-Lieutenant Ulysses S. Grant, who went on to fame as commanding general of the Union Army during the Civil War and then a two-term president of the United States, as “one of the most unjust ever waged by a stronger against a weaker nation.”

There were other reasons why the war was unpopular beyond Grant’s assessment in his celebrated, best-selling 1885 memoir, including concerns about bringing into the nation a large number of people of color who many thought could not become true Americans through assimilation, while others pondered the status of slavery in the massive territory, covering about a staggering 55% of all of México’s sovereign territory.

Stunningly, on 24 January 1848, just nine days before the Treaty of Guadalupe Hidalgo was signed officially ending the war, James Marshall spied a glittering piece of gold while building a mill for John Sutter in the Sierra Nevada Mountains and, after purportedly declaring “Boys, I believe I have found a gold mine,” launched a unrivaled and unmatched frenzy in world history as the Gold Rush burst forth.

California was then nominally under military rule, but with most of the few soldiers in the possession going AWOL to the mines, it was virtually ungoverned for the better part of two years or so. Congress wrangled with its status, largely because the particularly vertical geographic orientation of California, being basically both North and South, was vexing in the context of the Missouri Compromise of 1820, which allowed for Missouri, where David Workman just settled and where his brother William would soon join him, to be a slave state, while Maine was admitted as a free state to maintain a balance. The act also banned slavery above a certain line in what was left of the Louisiana Purchase.

Newly settled Americans in California decided to act on their own and wrote and passed a constitution late in 1849 that banned slavery—though not for reasons of equality, but, rather concerns about cheap labor—forcing Congress to move more expeditiously. The result was the complicated Compromise of 1850, which allowed for California’s admission on 9 September through several bills that allowed for popular votes regarding slavery in new states, provided for a tougher fugitive slave act, and banned slavery in the District of Columbia, among other effects.

Today, Governor Gavin Newsom sent a “State of the State” letter to the state legislature, which began, not surprisingly, given his highly publicized feud with the Trump Administration, “Today, as California celebrates the 175th anniversary of its admission to the Union, our country faces an uncertain future and pernicious threats to the foundation of our democracy.” The point here isn’t to focus on the latter section of that sentence, though there is obviously a widening divide in our country about its future, including how its government functions amid 250 years of democratic norms, but, rather, the idea of how “California celebrates the 175th anniversary of its admission to the Union.”

It seems rather clear the celebrations are, if existing at all, very muted and understated, while there is also a distinction to be made between celebrating and commemorating. In this post, we look at how California’s admission day was mentioned in Los Angeles newspapers for about a quarter century, from 1854 to 1880, and, for those of us who see a decided lack of interest now, the content here will seem more than familiar.

Speaking of distinctions, there was a vast difference between how 9 September was marked in Los Angeles, which had a large percentage of Spanish-speaking Californios and Mexicans, as opposed to San Francisco, which, from the furor of the Gold Rush onward, was city significantly populated by white people. It is striking, for example, that the Bay Area metropolis was home to a Society of California Pioneers in 1850, with the organization launched the month prior to statehood and exclusively of Anglos. Later, F.P.F. Temple and his son William became members of the association, which took on Admission Day as one of its major events.

The Los Angeles newspaper, the Southern Californian, reprinted in its edition of 14 September 1854 correspondence in the northern city testifying that “the Pioneers are out today, in strong numbers, celebrating the California State admission day into the Union.” Military companies and a volunteer fire department marched in accompaniment from bands, with banners flying, to the Metropolitan Theatre for a concluding event.

The orator of the day was Edward J.C. Kewen, a Gold Rush ’49er who was California’s first attorney general, though only briefly, and then a lawyer at Sacramento and San Francisco, while he was also involved in the notorious Nicaragua filibuster of the mid-Fifties. In summer 1856, Kewen relocated to Los Angeles, where he practiced law, owned the old Mission San Gabriel grist mill (previously the property of William Workman), was a die-hard supporter of the Confederacy and was a spirited and often fire-breathing speaker.

In subsequent years, when Admission Day was mentioned at all in the Angel City’s press, it was about events happening in San Francisco or Sacramento. The 18 September 1858 issue of the Los Angeles Star, the first newspaper in town when founded seven years prior, it was observed that the California Pioneers held its celebration with a parade of the Independent National Guards, while the Pioneers, in all of their finery, marched to Musical Hall for the usual speech, poem and other program elements.

In its 3 September 1859 number, the Star exhorted its readers to, for the coming county elections, which were always held early in the month, to turn out to vote for the Democratic Party, which ruled the political roost in Los Angeles and its environs—notably, William Workman’s sole foray into electoral politics was to run for county supervisor as part of a slate of disaffected Democrats, which, however, lost. The paper asserted that,

Under a democratic administration, and against a determined and deadly hostility, the war with Mexico was declared, which not only brought victory to our arms but with it this broad territory, now the wonder of the world, the anomaly in the history of nations. Under a democratic administration, and surrounded by hostility and opposition, California, with all its gold, its broad acres, and its hardy sons, became a part of this great confederacy. At our first call for admission, the democracy of the nation rallied around us, and with joyful tongues and loving hearts they hailed us as their newborn sister.

Yet, there were no local events celebrating, or commemorating, Admission Day, in this period and the outburst of the Civil War, a little more than a year-and-a-half later, brought about divisions that, in a very pro-Confederacy greater Los Angeles, undoubtedly meant that any remembrance of the entry of California as an anti-slavery (and, anti-Black) state would not have any public utterance or events. It was remarked by the pro-Union Los Angeles News in 1862 that the Sacramento Pioneer Association, established in 1854 and which, like the Pioneer society, still exists, celebrated with a dinner.

For Admission Day 1866, the Wilmington Journal, a Republican and pro-Union paper which used the printing press of the defunct Star, a virulent Confederate supporter during the war, quoted from the San Francisco Alta California that,

To the people of California the admission [to the Union] was a most welcome event. Their Senators and Representatives had been excluded [from participation in the national government] for nearly a year, and it was doubtful for a long time whether the State would be permitted to come in at all with the Constitution formed in 1849. The news of the admission was received with rejoicings throughout the State, and was thrice celebrated in San Francisco. The news was brought by the steamer Oregon, on the 18th of October [six weeks afterward], and as soon as generally known, business was suspended, the city was covered with flags, the streets were covered with people congratulating one other, and a couple of canon [sic] were fired on the Plaza . . . In the evening there were bonfires and illumination, and bands of music paraded the streets.

We can only assume that the news was received with much more moderation and, for the Angel City’s Spanish-speaking population, a variety of emotions likely, for most, to be the flip side of the celebratory coin at San Francisco. In 1868, all that was said locally was that the California Pioneers once again led the proceedings at the northern city, though the reconstituted Star, more subdued version 2.0 from its predecessor, merely remarked “they seem to have had the celebration all to themselves.”

As the Sixties came to its close, the Star of 18 September 1869 noted that the California Pioneers held its usual military parade and procession of members, which, on this occasion, gathered at the California Theatre. There, they heard the oration of John S. Hittell, another ’49er who, for a quarter century, worked for the aforementioned Alta California as well as authored books on Golden State mining and its general resources—his brother, Theodore, wrote a four-volume History of California which is often compared to the much larger and detailed work of Hubert Howe Bancroft.

John Hittell provided a detailed examination of California’s history to date, beginning with the “Indian Era,” which he averred was not a subject of history so much as geology, or, really, anthropology, which really began about this time. Not surprisingly, he was rather blunt about indigenous California and asserted there was “no art, no custom, no monument (except a few mounds, the accumulation of shells, bones and ashes around their rancherias,) no original thought, no recollection of a noble deed, no tongue . . .”

He had more to say about the Spanish period, though it is notable that, in marking the founding of Mission Dolores in San Francisco in 1776, there would shortly be the centennial “of the white settlement” of that city. Yet, how many Anglos in 1869 thought of themselves in kindred terms with Latinos, aside from comparing both to the more despised Black and Chinese residents of California.

Strangely, when it comes to Mexican era, which he noted was from 1822 to 1846, he went back to mark the establishment of San Jose and Los Angeles, founded in 1777 and 1781, respectively, though his point seemed to be that there was more harmony between the few colonists, including soldiers and their families, and the missionaries from the Spanish days than in the Mexican ones. In that time, he wrote, “the rancheros and town people never agreed very well with the friars,” as these were under the control of civil and military officials, while “the Indians ceased to obey their teachers, neglected their work and plundered the mission property.”

Hittell followed a well-worn interpretive path in asserting that “the Mexican Californians lived an idle, easy life” as “they had no work and little worry” and “they were happy; they did not know any better.” Excitement was rare, but so was anxiety, he continued, though he also remarked,

Most of them, and some of the old American residents, have regretted the change which has since taken place. From various miseries of life, common everywhere, they were exempt. [They lacked professions, technological developments like railroads and steamers, mail and stove-pipe hats.] They were a large, active, hardy, long-lived race, who made up by their fecundity [fertility in having children] for the failure of the friars to contribute to the population of the territory.

Noting the close relations between families because of often-intricate intermarriage, the orator claimed that “time with them was not money—knowledge was not power . . . and so their life was a succession of paseas and fiestas—riding and feasting.” He did, however, detail some of the regular rancor among those involved in Alta California departmental politics up through the Mexican-American War.

In identifying, as most did, that the American period began with the 7 July 1846 seizure of Monterey by the American Navy, Hittell commented on some of the early American arrivals prior to 1840, including Abel Stearns and Henry Mellus of Los Angeles, though he excluded Jonathan Temple who preceded them and was the second Anglo to reside in the pueblo.

He did note that, among the fur trappers, who followed their prey of beavers to the eastern limits of modern California, were two parties from 1827 including such names as “[George] Yount, [William] Wolfskill, [William] Workman” and others. Hittell then observed that,

Workman, after his first trip with the trappers, returned to New Mexico, where he had lived, and induced a considerable party of his friends and neighbors to come to this coast. The largest migration from the Valley of the Rio Grande came in 1841, and included the Vaca and Peña families [who settled northeast of San Francisco at and near modern Vacaville.]

After mentioning other Anglo arrivals during the first half of the Forties, the speaker characterized the American seizure of Mexican Alta California as one in which those Anglos who married into Californio families “induced the great majority of the Californians to submit quietly when the Stars and Stripes were hoisted” and then merely noted that “there was some resistance, but it was almost hopeless from the first.” Actually, General Andrés Pico and his mounted Lanceros did more than resist, they routed an American force at San Pasqual, while other examples of the spirited defense of greater Los Angeles were clear.

Hittell essayed, not always accurately, the Gold Rush phenomenon and he added “it was then that most of us determined to seek our fortunes in El Dorado” and he cast in somewhat heroic terms the adventures of the Argonauts. He also, however, noted that grand expectations, often based on grossly exaggerated accounts and claims about the preponderance of the precious metal easily picked from the earth, streams and so on, were very often quickly dashed by the lashings of hard reality.

Having just finished yesterday a second reading of Malcolm Rohrbough’s Days of Gold: The California Gold Rush and the American Nation, these comments stood out, as did the speaker’s ending comments, or at least those published by the Star:

But the excitement was up and we were not disposed to be critical or skeptical. The start was accompanied by the warnings of the old men, the tears of the women, and the envious and congratulatory remarks of our associates who wanted to come and could not. It was an impressive occasion, full of bright hopes and dark forebodings for many who remained as well as for all who came.

Hittell likely addressed the specifics of the Golden State’s admission to the Union, but the Los Angeles paper was clearly more interested in his recitation of the history as he saw it. The 1870s brought a modicum, minor as it was, of more recognition and commemoration of Admission Day in the Angel City, but we’ll plan to return to that period next year on this day, so be sure to look for that then.