The General’s Other Daughter

Sure, everyone knows about The General’s Daughter, the historic residence of Sonoma über-scion Natalia Vallejo. The historic-house-turned-fine-restaurant on West Spain Street has become nearly as iconic as Lachryma Montis, General Vallejo’s own home.

But what of Jovita Vallejo, the General’s other daughter? The two sisters were married to sons of vintner Count Agoston Haraszthy in a dual ceremony, the social event of 1863. The nuptials are reenacted fondly every year in Sonoma’s annual Vintage Festival.

Didn’t Jovita get a house, too?

Yes, she did, and it’s every bit as beautiful as its better known sibling. Built in the early 1850s by Col. R.B. Butler, Count Haraszthy purchased the house in 1863 as a wedding gift for his son Arpad and new daughter-in-law Jovita. Situated on a 3 1/2 acre knoll less than a mile northwest of Lachryma Montis, at the time of purchase the house was surrounded by open space, and the General could keep an eye on his daughter.

Not so anymore. The Grand View Estate, as it is officially known, still has a grand view, but it also has plenty of neighbors. Tucked away up a Lomita Avenue driveway only a few blocks from Highway 12, the house seems more than an anachronism — it seems downright out of place.

“No one knows it’s here,” said Gina Evenson, the home’s current owner. “You can’t see or hear any neighbors anywhere. It’s extremely peaceful.”

The Greek Revival/ Italianate home is perched atop a sprawling lawn, punctuated by a massive prickly pear cactus and olive trees— two of which were planted by the mission fathers when the house was built. A wraparound veranda evokes images of mint juleps and porch-swing spooning, and hot days cooled down by nothing more than the swaying motion of hand-held fans.
“The house is very romantic in a lot of ways,” Everson said, suggesting that the Haraszthys were enjoying the parties and delights of high society while the streets of San Francisco were still paved with mud.

Through the leaded glass entry doors, one is greeted by the enormous self-supported stairway leading to the second floor. On either side of the stairway, the tall, slender windows of the parlor rooms beckon one in. Everson explained that the house, with its high ceilings and tall windows, was designed to stay cool well before the invention of air conditioning. If one opens all the windows first thing in the morning and then shuts them before 10 a.m., the house locks in the cool air like an ice chest.
“It stays as cool as if it was air-conditioned,” she said. “It’s amazing, it really is.”

No less amazing is the house’s view from the widow’s walk, accessible through the attic. From that vantage point, Fourth of July fireworks are visible not only from the lawn in front of General Vallejo’s home, but as far away as Vallejo and San Francisco.
And, as with any house of such age and pedigree, it’s not without its ghost story. Everson speaks of a woman, the victim of a thwarted love affair, who threw herself from the widow’s walk in times past. Although Everson has not seen the ghost herself, there are stories of a specter who roams the grounds in a white nightgown.

In 1990, “Beach Blanket Babylon” playwright Steve Silver owned the house, and his historically accurate preservation garnered him an award from the Sonoma Valley League for Historic Preservation. His award was for the careful attention paid to fine details in the house’s craftsmanship, but the home’s allure is found in more than its details. The house is solid, built on bedrock; the 1906 earthquake didn’t even make it quiver. Silver had to use dynamite in order to dig the adjacent swimming pool. The house is built with redwood beams that are wider and thicker than any that are milled today.
“You couldn’t build this house now if you tried,” Everson said.

The house, like the pepper tree growing on its eastern flank, is a survivor. The tree was fully grown when the house was first built, and its bulbous, gnarled trunk is testament to that.

“It’s on its last legs, but I think trees take a long time to die,” Everson said.

In the same breath, she spoke of the house’s history, and how minor changes by its long string of owners hasn’t altered its overall integrity.

“The actual house hasn’t changed at all,” she said, adding that it’s history is still apparent.
“It’s a lovely old house. It really is a grand dame.”