View
Family Page
The Sunday Gazetteer
Sunday,
October 28, 1900
pg. 2
THE JOHN B. CARLAT FARM
One of the Most Delightful Events Ever
Experienced in a Lifetime.
A Model Farm - The Wine Cellar - A Tour
of the Farm - Natural Oil - Grand Dinner
- Visit to the River
In
the fulfillment of a long made promise,
the writer paid a visit 2 weeks
ago Sunday to the John B. Carlat farm,
northwest 5 miles.
We were
accompanied by Col. Reardon, Miss
Francis Harnest and Mrs. R.P.
Burbans. Not a drop of rain had
fallen in 3 weeks. The
weather was stifling and every
revolution of the wheels stirred up
clouds of dust that enveloped the party
like a mist. When we
descended into the river bottoms the
drive was much more pleasant, the
trees shaded the highway and the dust
troubled us but
little.
The
Carlat farm is reached after a travel of
about one mile from the main
traveled road that leads to Bear's
ferry, on Red river.
Passing
through several wire gates, we reached
the beautiful meadow lands that
descend to the home of Mr. Carlat.
The snug, tree-embowered farm
house of mine host Carlat is one of the
most inviting spots that we
ever saw. We do not believe
there is a prettier pastoral picture
in all Grayson county.
Mr. Carlat received us at the gate with
that
genuine, spontaneous welcome that no
other race on the face of the
earth know so well how to bestow as the
sons of the vine clad hills of
sunny France.
Discarding all formalities of reception
we were told
to alight and make ourselves just as
much at home as if we were lords
of the manor. Mrs. Carlat took
charge of the ladies, while Mr.
Carlat prepares us seats in the shade of
noble forest trees.
To the
Frenchman there is no good time without
the inspiration of the juice of
the grape. The rites of
hospitality find expression in
the dingy
black bottle, or the casks or great
pipes of wine that the imagination
places in gloomy cellars covered all
over with
cobwebs that leave the
impression of mellowness and old age.
We had hardly got seated
when Mr. Carlat invited us to visit the
cellar.
The cellar is an
enormous affair, built of great dressed
rock. It will take an
earthquake ever to disturb it. At
the entrance there is a block
of white marble set in the masonry which
bears the inscription, "John
B. Carlat, 1881." Mr. Carlat is
proud of his farm, proud
of his
stock, proud of his orchards and
vineyards, but his affections are
centered in the cellar. Before
starting out to work, at the
dinner hour, and when the day's labor is
over he finds solace in his
glass of wine. He is 73 years of
age and the wine warms his
blood
and makes his spirits flow, care flies
and wrinkles from his forehead
go. Good wine is certainly a great
comfort to old age.
Mr. Carlat makes good wine, the best
wine in the world comes from
France, and the formula has descended to
him from his fathers.
Down
in the bowels of the earth he has casks
of wine. The scene
reminded us of the famous picture of the
monks of the middle
ages who
are in the vaults under the earth giving
themselves up to the happy
inspiration of the grape. Monsieur
Carlat drew forth a goblet of
wine which was handed to Col. Reardon,
then we heard a gurgling noise
in the gloom of the cellar and the Col.
smacked
his lips over an empty
glass which he declared had contained
the best wine that he ever drank
in his life.
The Colonel did not refuse another
glass, and made no
apologies for a third. When he
left the cellar and came forth
into the light his face glowed like an
Italian sunset, and his eyes
scintillated like diamonds. Mrs.
Carlat then invited the ladies to
wine and the Colonel (Col. Reardon)
joined them. It looked as if
we would have to put him to bed.
A delightful hour was spent at t he
hospitable board.
While dinner was preparing Mr. Carlat
conducted us over his farm, the most
wonderful farm that we have ever visited
in Texas.
Such
evidence of thrift we never expected was
possible. It would take
a volume to relate the history of the
Carlat farm; how it was redeemed
from brush, weeds and bramble; it cost
years of hard, persistent labor,
a constant struggle, to get the mastery
of nature. The good wife
who is now sleeping in the valley and
shadow of death, shared his
labors. We never met her but those
who have
pay glowing tribute
to her worth, her exalted character and
christian virtues. Her
hospitality was the theme of every
recurring
praise. Her dainted
memory will ever live while the world
loves good deeds.
The present
wife is one of the noblest women that
ever lived, a kind, genial,
hospitable matron, who makes you geel at
home, at
ease, the moment that
you cross the threshold of her home.
She is a woman of wonderful
energy, working side by side with her
husband. They have reached
the evening of life when rest should be
the heritage of old age, but
they always find some thing to do.
And they will work, work;
people of their temperament cannot
resign themselves to a passive life.
It is their wonderful energy that
keeps them from breaking down.
They would like to rent the old
homestead, and let us say
right here to a man and wife who are
willing to work, and who may wish
to step into the model farm of Grayson
County, here is the chance of a
life time. All of the farm
machinery and appurtenances are in
perfect order. There is good
water, rich land, good buildings,
blooded stock, splendid orchards and
over 100 pecan trees.
We are satisfied a rich flow of
oil can be developed on the land,
at least it is worth the attention of
capital. The character of
the country indicates oil and from what
we saw this will one day become
a famous oil field. Mr. Carlat is
not able to put down a
developing well
to demonstrate the presence of oil or
no. Mr.
Carlat showed us all over his farm and
explained things as he went
along. He states
that his wife and self worked day and
night; a
detailed description would be made
mighty interesting reading matter.
It shows what well directed
efforts will accomplish even at the
hands of old people. There is a
place for everything and
everything is in its place. The
premises are sweet and clean.
Every article of farm machinery is
under cover. The
chickens don't roost in trees but have
comfortable quarters and there
is a separate nesting house. The
cattle are gentle, Mr. Carlat
going among them and caressing them.
He has a Jersey bull that
will come at his call to be petted.
The hogs are confined in a
large apple orchard. They are the
famous Jersey Red. There
is an incident connected with the
orchard that is worth relating.
Mr. Carlat planted 250 apple trees
in 2-1/2 hours. The
ground had been previously prepared by
plowing the furrows.
Jessie Looney was present and he
told him if the last tree was
not in the ground at the allotted time
he could go to the barn and get
a wagon load of corn.
After a tour of the farm the dinner hour
was announced.
We
are not equal to the task to describe
the feast of good things that
were on that spread. Roast turkey
with French dressing, which
Col. Reardon called down a blessing
upon, tender squabs that almost melted
in the mouth, sweet and Irish potatoes,
warm biscuit, golden
butter, delicious preserves and bottles
of wine and fragrant coffee;
will we ever forget the coffee?
Never, never. The spirit
did move and Monsieur Carlat chanted a
French hymn.
The writer has
been a strictly sober man for nearly 9
years and for the first time we
thought - well, it was a great
temptation to get just a little
hilarious, but we put the temptation
behind us. Col. Reardon kept
on praising the wine and hinted that he
would sing a song or deliver a
speech if called upon. After
dinner Monsieur Carlat entertained
us with incidents of his remarkable
career, that are as romantic as
ever told in books of romance. At
some future time we will "jot
down" his narrative.
It was late in the afternoon before we
said
"goodbye" to our host and hostess.
We were loath to leave them,
they were such royal entertainers, but
we promised them another visit
later on, a promise that shall be
religiously kept.
We spent an hour
at the rive and it was night before we
arrived home. The visit to
the Carlat farm will ever be a green
spot in
memory. |
French
American Roots
Biography Index
Elaine
Nall Bay
©2013
If
you find any of Grayson County
TXGenWeb links inoperable, please
send me a message.
|