Grand Plans for a City South of Dixon

The budget for the current Morning View Studio project is said to be over two billion dollars. Back in 1913, exactly 100 years ago, a similarly large and sensational development project began to take shape south of Dixon. However, in today’s dollars, that project was to cost “only” 171 million dollars.

By 1913, the broad and mostly flat area between Elmira, Rio Vista, today’s Highway 12, and Suisun City was served by two railroads: the traditional mainline railroad passing through Dixon and Elmira and the now-defunct Oakland and Antioch electric railroad further south. The area was also served on its margins by navigable waterways such as the Sacramento River and its sloughs.

Because of these good transportation connections and the fact that the land was apparently still inexpensive and mostly used for grazing, this area had attracted the attention of a group of San Francisco real estate investors and developers, which included M. H. DeYoung, who owned the San Francisco Chronicle, and Patrick Calhoun, grandson of U.S. Vice President John Calhoun.

By the sale of stock, $7.5 million had been raised as seed capital, and a land-buying binge of massive proportions ensued in early 1913. Newspapers breathlessly announced the acquisition of each new, large ranch south of Dixon. When finished, 175,000 acres had been accumulated.

The investors’ company, Solano Irrigated Farms, quickly began to execute its plan to break up the ranches into small farm plots, with guaranteed water brought in via canals and ditches from Lindsay Slough. Sales were handled by A. J. Rich and Company of San Francisco. From an editorial comment and ad in the Dixon Tribune, I gather that the investors bought the land for about $10 an acre and wanted to sell it for $175 to $300 an acre. The editor noted that some in Dixon were saying buyers were being stung, but felt that if the right crops and animals were raised, that price would be merited.

The Tribune ad in September for the farm plots claimed “The finest combination soil in the world” and “the choicest alfalfa and dairying farm sites in California.” A long list of inducements was offered to sweeten the offer, such as 10 or 20 percent down. In reality, the soils in that area are a mixed bag, with some having decent drainage or permeability and others, such as in the Jepson Prairie area, having a hardpan layer of soil that prevents good drainage during winter rains. It’s telling that even today, this area is still used almost entirely for cattle and sheep grazing and not for growing crops.

Still, the Vacaville Reporter in February, 1913 said that the farm plan “probably will break all records for speed in development.” The San Francisco Examiner reported that an incredible amount was being done to break up the land by ditching, and dredging irrigation canals. 

But Solano Irrigated Farms wasn’t the most interesting part of the plan. The company, led by Calhoun, announced in March of 1913 its vision of creating a vibrant commercial center – a city – in the midst of this claimed farming paradise. They named it Solano, or Solano City, and it was to be located along the electric railroad tracks apparently between present-day Lambie and Creed roads. This is about four miles southwest of the prominent jag in Highway 113 and also southwest of the Jepson Prairie Preserve. The old electric train tracks still cross through that area.

This would be no ordinary country town with a post office, church, school and 15 houses. The planners were said to be creating the largest city in the county (occupying 1,500 acres), to be filled with 75,000 residents and many businesses. The entire county at that time only had 30,000 citizens.  

Excitement was certainly building, and the Vacaville Reporter predicted that “Solano City will be the next real estate sensation flashed on the California market.”

Said landscapist Mark Daniels, “Solano is the only city on the Pacific West Coast … and one of the few in the world that has been started and planned all through, to its last detail, before any construction was begun. … Solano will be one of the most beautiful cities in the world.”

From Solano’s planned civic center, eight major streets would radiate outward. One million tree seedlings had been procured so that all streets would be lined with shade trees. A water filtration plant providing 200,000 gallons of potable water per minute was to be built.

Three schools, a library, a city hall and a hotel were said to be in the works.

Moving ahead fast, the company ran a large and fanciful ad in the Dixon Tribune in August, 1913 announcing the sale of lots in the city. “Solano – the wonder city – goes on the market !!” exclaimed the ad, continuing, “ … The greatest opportunity in the state for big, quick profits will be offered you. Take a lesson in money-making from the thousands of fortunes made in Los Angeles. … Values ALWAYS jump along a new electric (railroad). Solano City is a necessity.”

It’s interesting that the ad stressed not buying a lot to build a home and live there, but buying as an investment. Perhaps the promoters were finding that people visiting the site were less than impressed with the wind-swept and treeless prairie and visitors were finding that Solano City was built more from words and hyperbole rather than brick and mortar. A temporary hotel capable of holding 140 people was to be completed by May 1, 1913, but whether it actually was is unknown. How many people in 1913 were inclined to be pioneers?

The ad continued: “HERE IT IS! 40 miles (or) 2 hours from San Francisco. Cheap freight transportation by water. … SOLANO CITY now served by TWO navigable water-ways.”

I’m not sure how the city was to be served by two waterways, but an effort was made to build one navigable canal from Lindsay Slough (which connected to the Sacramento River) to Solano City. The canal would be deep enough to handle ships in size up to, but not including, ocean-going vessels. It’s my understanding that two of the straight waterways that still exist today over near Lindsay Slough – the Hastings and Calhoun cuts – were created as part of this project. The Calhoun Cut (named after the before-mentioned Patrick Calhoun) extends nearly all the way over to present-day Highway 113, and drivers cross a bridge over the water that that cut brings in.

The development company, Solano Irrigated Farms, had announced in April, 1913 that the canal was being dredged and would be nine miles long, 75 feet wide and 17 feet deep. Later that month the company announced that the canal had reached the city site.

The tons of soil and muck being moved and dredged were easily matched by the tons of optimism provided to newspapers by the company. In July, the company announced that “ … 30 blocks of the new city have already been spoken for, and inquiries made for (business locations) were greater than the company could care for.”

The sales component of the company, the A. J. Rich company, told the Vacaville Reporter there was “ … a heavy demand for town lots from nearly every person who visited the site.”

Because M. H. DeYoung, owner of the San Francisco Chronicle and San Francisco Call newspapers, was a major investor, it’s likely the project got a major editorial and advertising boost in that city. The company is said to have heavily advertised in newspapers all over California, and thousands of potential buyers visited the city’s location. Again, the company was quoted in August by the Vacaville Reporter as saying there was “A heavy demand for town lots from nearly every person who visited the site.”

It appears that by September, 1913 the company was getting desperate for enough sales to keep the money flowing. It had burned through a lot of money buying property, digging waterways and buying advertising. The venture, so much in a hurry to get Solano County’s largest city on its feet in a few short months, depended upon sales successes at each step of the way to continue. For example, the company needed to generate enough money to pay mortgage debt on its properties which began to come due in October, 1913.

As that month arrived, there was suddenly a silence in the newspapers about the project. There were no more confident pronouncements about sales and there were no more ads. The Dixon Tribune finally reported on October 17 that “The Irrigated Farms Co., of which Pat Calhoun is president, seems to be in trouble …. Many bills are unpaid. … Sales have not been as numerous as expected. … The Maine Prairie Land Company has also instituted proceedings against the corporation.

“It is charged that the idea (for the farms and for Solano City) was hatched with the belief that the immense project could be successfully exploited on very small capital. Had the sales been as successful as was originally intended, this might have worked out satisfactorily.”

A week later, the Tribune reported that financial claims against the company were piling up fast. Solano City soon was swept into the dustpan of history, one of the colorful events in Solano County that promised so much and delivered so little.

Some local farmers and ranchers who had purchased bonds to help finance the company’s irrigation project lost their investment.    

Patrick Calhoun, by the way, who had perhaps begun to believe his own hype about Solano City, soon left the real estate business and did well in the oil industry. Americans may not want to buy a lot on a prairie far from any big city, but they do need their gasoline.

Out where Solano City was to be built, perhaps the last remaining vestige of the project is the stand of eucalyptus trees where people park to visit the Jepson Prairie Preserve. These are grown remnants of the one million seedlings purchased to provide shade trees for Solano City.