On our second visit to Stockton a year later we passed through without delay on our way to the state capital. We came from Oakland—where we passed the night at the magnificent new Hotel Oakland, unsurpassed by any of California's famous hotels—by the way of Haywards, Niles, Pleasanton, and Altamont. The direct road by way of Dublin was closed and we were saved a useless twenty-mile jaunt by an obliging garage man at Haywards, who hailed us as he saw us turning into the obstructed route.
"You'll have to take a round-about road," he declared on learning of our destination. "A car which tried the Dublin road just returned, having found it completely closed. The county board is cutting down the big hill near Dublin—commenced a year ago and was held up by a lawsuit. They had to condemn a piece of land—so steep a goat couldn't stand on it—for which an Eastern owner wanted seven thousand dollars. The jury awarded the owner seventeen dollars, and now the work can go on."
"Our Eastern friend must have thought he saw a chance to get rich quick," we ventured.
"No, the funny part of it was that he wanted just what he paid for the land, which he had never seen. Some real estate agent had sold it to him for seven thousand dollars and he only wanted his money back. I reckon that any man who buys land in California on someone's representations is a sucker,"—a proposition that we did not feel called upon to dispute.
We had no reason to regret our enforced change of route, for we passed through some beautiful country—quite different from what we had previously seen in this vicinity. Following the railroad southward to Niles, we turned sharply to the left, entering the low green hills along which we had been coursing. Crossing a moderate grade, we came into a narrow valley lying between rounded hills, which showed evidence of having been in cultivation for many years. The roads, bridges, farm houses, and other improvements indicated a prosperous and well-established community and the towns of Pleasanton, Livermore, and Altamont must have sprung into existence as far back as the "days of gold." These were quiet, pretty villages connected by a fine macadam road, evidently a temptation to the "scorcher," for placards in the garages warned motorists against the despised motorcycle "cop."
It was a glorious day and the well-groomed valley showed a wonderful display of color, the prevailing green being dashed with the brilliant hues of wild flowers. The low hills on either hand were covered with lawnlike verdure and dotted with ancient oaks, while an occasional cultivated field redeemed them from monotony. Beyond Livermore we came into the San Joaquin Valley, which at this time was reveling in the promise of an unprecedented harvest. The wide level plain was an expanse of waving green varied with an occasional fringe of trees, and a low-lying, dark-blue haze quite obscured the distant mountains.
Beyond Stockton the characteristics of the country were much the same, though it seemed to us as if the valley of the Sacramento were even greener and more prosperous. The vast wheatfields were showing the slightest tinge of yellow and the great vineyards were in bloom. Some of the latter covered hundreds of acres and must have been planted many years ago. The luxuriant, flower-spangled meadows were dotted with herds of sleek cattle and it would be hard to imagine a more ideal agricultural paradise than the Sacramento Valley at this particular time. On either hand the rich plain stretched away to blue mountains, so distant that only their dim outlines were discernible, and at times they were entirely obscured by low-hung clouds or sudden summer showers.
The road between the two cities is a recently completed link of the state highway and the smooth asphalted surface offers unlimited speed possibilities if one cares to take the chances. In the spring and early summer Sacramento is surrounded by vast swamps and we crossed over a long stretch of wooden bridges before entering the city. Our original plan was to come from Napa, but we learned that the roads north and west of the city were usually impassable until late in the summer. The entire city lies below high-water level of the Sacramento and American Rivers and in its early days suffered from disastrous floods. It is now protected by an extensive system of dikes, which have successfully withstood the freshets for half a century.
A handsome city greeted us as we coursed down the wide shady street leading past the capitol to the Hotel Sacramento. Palms and flowers were much in evidence in the outskirts and many imposing modern buildings ornamented the business section. There were, however, many indications of the city's age, for Sacramento is the oldest settlement of white men in the interior of California and was a town of ten thousand people in 1849, though probably there were many transient gold-seekers among them. It was the objective of the early "Argonauts" who crossed the plains long before the discovery of gold. Here in 1839 Colonel John H. Sutter established a colony of Swiss settlers which he called New Helvetia, and the old adobe fort which he built still stands, having being converted into a museum of pioneer relics. Sutter employed Marshall, who was sent into the mountains to build a mill at Coloma, and who picked up in the mill race the original nugget that turned the tide towards California in the forties. The first railroad in the state ran from Sacramento to Folsom, and the experimental section of the state highway system was built between these two towns.
There were many productive gold mines about the town in an early day, and though these are largely worked out, Sacramento has to-day a greater and more permanent source of wealth in the rich country surrounding it. It was made the capital of the state in 1854 and the handsome capitol building was erected a few years later. This is of pure classic design in white stone and though small as compared with most other state capitols, it is surpassed architecturally by none of them. It stands in a forty-acre park intersected by winding drives and beautified with the semi-tropical trees and plants which flourish in this almost frostless climate. Among these is the Memorial Grove, composed of trees collected from the battlefields of the Civil War. The state insectary, which breeds and distributes millions of fruit-protecting insects every year, may also be seen on the capitol grounds.