Fraternity-Testvériség, 1962 (40. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1962-12-01 / 12. szám
FRATERNITY 7 of only in millions of dollars. But the Civil War was on and California’s treasury was low. So the Legislature refused to pay Haraszthy even the Wells Fargo freightage, which amounted to $12,000. But the Agricultural Society met in the Assembly’s own sacred chamber that week, and elected the Colonel as its president, the most exalted honor it could bestow on anyone! Our Hungarian then finished his book, which was published by Harpers in New York, then plunged into economics and legislation. He fought against unjust taxes and a myriad of other grievances. He pelted over the State as far south as San Diego, where he planted his first grape orchard in 1849. He was the eloquent, the indefatigable gospeler of the proper crop for the right place, his coach filled with hampers of sample roofings lashed behind. His ever-present gardener gave demonstrations in grafting and budding, and the Colonel copiously poured out advice, and took orders for vines and fruit trees. Not even the Great Melchior, driving his gilded land-barge and six milk-white horses, was so impressive a figure, so hypnotic an orator, as Ágoston Haraszthy. He could see California as the fruit basket and the vineyard of the whole United States — a real Utopia, flowing with wine and honey . . . More projects, more legislation kept him feverishly busy. Árpád and Attila had both married daughters of the renowned General Vallejo. A group, backed by William Ralston, the shipowner who had become ruler of the most powerful money empire in San Francisco, took over the mortgages on Buena Vista, incorporating it as a showplace for winegrowing, and naming it Viticultural Society, with Haraszthy as superintendent. Then his son met disaster in attempting to make champagne, which was a costly experiment, to succed only the following years. A fire raged in the winery; the vintages of two years were lost, and the cooperage burned down. A boiler exploded in his distillery; Haraszthy leaped from a window, and for some weeks he moved about on crutches. Finally, a heavy tax cost the estate all its profits. Under such adverse conditions, he felt obliged to sever all ties with the hacienda of Buena Vista, and settled on a plantation in Nicaragua. He built a large sugar mill, and cleared land for more cane. A distillery and lumber to build it with were needed. On a morning in the summer of 1869, he left the house to find a site for a lumber mill. He was never seen again. His footsteps were traced to a large magnolia tree that overhung a stream. In attempting to cross over with its help, he broke a limb off and must have fallen in with it. The pool below was boiling with alligators. Ágoston Haraszthy was one of the greatest of American pioneers, a forerunner of Luther Burbank of a later age. This dashing Hungarian — whether he was a count or a colonel, what does it matter? — did more than any man to adapt Old World techniques and research to the unproved climate and the virgin earth of California which he loved. He made things grow in the desert! i
