Departure for San Jose.--Palo Alto.--Advertiser.--Leland Stanford, Jr.,
University.
Our next point after leaving San Francisco was San Jose. On our flight
thither, we stopped off for some four hours at Palo Alto, and took a
lovely ride through the gorgeous Leland Stanford estate, and also some
others; taking in besides, the wonderful Leland Stanford, Jr.,
University. It was all, it is true, but a glimpse, but a glorious one.
Are not our best impressions often but the result of supreme moments!
We see and feel in such moments, with an intenseness, which gives us
our best conceptions and our most cherished memories. If we approach a
scene with the imagination all wrought up, we are often apt to be
disappointed; for, there is that in the ideal of all minds which never
can be realized. But, as if to make up for this condition of our being,
nature and art, each alike, sometimes come upon us unawares, with such
unexpected beauty, that our ideal is accomplished for us, and even more
than realized, before we know it. Then we submit ourselves to our
surprise, and are satisfied.
Somewhat in this mood Palo Alto broke upon us. There were the rich
lands in high cultivation, the spreading trees of various kinds, the
vineyards, the olive yards, the orchards, the spacious houses, the
glowing gardens all abloom. The whole was a rich combination gratifying
every sense.
We saw in one of the gardens a beautiful piece of Greek art brought
from Pompeii, a portion of a graceful curved peristyle of marble, once
white and glistening, but now a rich fawn color, the result of time
stretching back to the beginning of the Christian era or beyond. Every
line of the fluting on the columns, and the carving on architrave and
capital, was fresh as if of yesterday. It stood there like a dream of
the far past, made visible to us here to-day, in a garden of roses in
this enchanting West.
Another object also interested us. It was a superb living thing which
might have served as a model for the sculptor of the Parthenon frieze.
It was the great blooded horse "Advertiser," for which some fabulous
sum had been offered and refused. I forget who owned the creature, or
what the sum was which was thus offered. It matters not. I remember
only the graceful stallion led out from his stall for us to look at
him. His glossy coat, his perfect form, his noble attitude, his fiery
eye, his strange look of intelligence--all these spoke of the art of
Athens and the Greeks. The life and force, which could carve such a
creature in marble, seemed to have place also in the superb living
creature himself. I was struck particularly by his noble bearing, by
the contour of his head, and also by a peculiar length of the upper
lip, having a kind of quivering, prehensile property, not often seen in
such animals. When he was led back into his stall, it seemed to me,
that we sightseers, should have apologized to him for our intrusion.
We also saw in our short stay the famous Leland Stanford, Jr.,
University. The first sight of the structure is rather disappointing.
Its low elevation on the broad plain on which it stands, and a huge
chimney for heating and engine purposes rising above it, give the whole
place the aspect of a machine shop or railroad works; but on closer
approach this impression vanishes. Then the spirit of the architect is
understood. He had ample space for his design, and so he laid out a
vast, cloistered parallelogram of one story in height, all built of a
warm-tinted yellowish stone, giving the richest shadows of blue and
purple.
It was a delight to gaze down the perspective of these enclosing
aisles, and then from the arches to look out on the fountains playing
in the sunshine, to see the richness of flowers and trees and shrubs,
all overarched by a sky of blue without a fleck of cloud.
How different it all seemed to the quads of Oxford, or the backs of
Cambridge, where the yew, the beech, and the ivy give a sombre tone of
the past, with which the weather-worn buildings and the clouded skies
well accord; while the ever-verdant turf under foot, gives all a touch
of a constant life that is ever new.
Here all was different. The court was asphalted, the flowers were as if
in baskets, the trees were the product of untiring care. It was all the
result of energy and art conquering nature and chaining it down to a
definite work.
The whole University speaks of this forceful energy. It is the result
of fortune amassed by untiring purpose and sleepless activity; but all
the intense activity which it symbolizes has on it the touch of a
tragedy, which lifts itself and its conception, into a far higher
sphere than ordinary things. It is the crystallization of affections
which shine out from grieved hearts. It is the memorial of an only son
taken from boundless fortune and all that earth could promise--taken in
the first flush of his beautiful manhood, from parents, whose whole
life was centred in his being.
There is a touching pathos in the picture of this youth, as it looks
down from the walls of the library, on the group of young students, men
and women, gathered there to reap the benefit of the institution which
his fortune sustains, and ever will sustain. He was the sole heir to
vast estates, to many commercial interests, to great enterprises. All
that was his, is now devoted to the uses of those who teach and are
taught, in the Leland Stanford, Jr., University.
One leaves the place with regret. One turns back longingly to take a
last look at its quaint Spanish architecture, and one treasures up the
memories of it all with greatest pleasure. One remembers the quiet of
the marble mausoleum in the woods, where father and son rest side by
side, waiting for the completion of the family group beyond the tomb.
One also calls to mind the beautiful museum which our time would only
allow us to glance at; and also, the many picturesque homes springing
up all about the University, the whole leaving an impression upon us
which cannot soon be forgotten.
Our four hours in the luxuriant surroundings of Palo Alto and the
University, every moment filled in with busy sightseeing, caused us to
enjoy the rest of our further railroad ride to San Jose.