Andrew Burghardt first came to Burgenland as a young scientist in 1957 to conduct scientific research on this area. In subsequent years, meanwhile appointed university professor, he continued his research, which culminated in the publication of the seminal book entitled "Borderland" in 1963. In recognition of his outstanding work, he received the Land Burgenland Honor Award in 1995. 

I first saw Burgenland in September 1956. I had selected it to be the subject of my doctoral thesis at the University of Wisconsin. Mary and I, newly-married in August, drove to Vienna from Paris where we had bought a tiny Renault car. A small grant of $3.000.- was all we had to buy the car and to live on in Austria. I had known some Burgenlanders in New York; I took pictures of them and brought them with me to help introduce myself to their relatives. Before sailing to Europe I had also been able to meet and speak to Dr. Kurt Schuschnigg (the Chancellor of Austria before the Hitler take-over), Dr. Ernst Winter (the son of the pre-war-vice-mayor of Vienna, married to a von Trapp), and the son of Count Teleki. 

My first view of Burgenland was on a field trip of geographers held as part of the 100th anniversary celebration of the Viennese Geographical Society. We were driven to the Parndorfer Heide, and the Professor told us that this was, at least physically, not a part of Austria, that it had a strong Hungarian Character. We were impressed by the dry windy flatness and the seeming emptiness of the area. 

From other Viennese acquaintances and professors I gained their impressions of Austria's newest province. Most of their perceptions were uncomplimentary. lt was said to be poor, rundown, dusty. There were flocks of geese everywhere. There were no conveniences for travellers. There was a uniform opinion that the roads were terrible. One person referred to the area as "Austria's Balkans", another as a "gypsy land". Although one did call the area "charming", it seemed clear to me that most Viennese did not care for the land, did not consider it to be truly Austrian. (Interestingly, some felt a touch of guilt for Austria having taken this territory from its old partner in the Monarchy). The shortcomings were always blamed on the Hungarians who were said to have neglected the area and repressed its people.(Of course I knew that what is now Burgenland was composed of little more than the Western fringes of three different countries before 1919, and, as such, could hardly have expected much development). 

In late September Mary and I made our first real reconnaisance by driving from Neusiedl to Güssing. We found that most of the roads were actually in good shape. In fact, when I came to look at the borders closely, I saw that the roads between Burgenland and Niederösterreich were always excellent on the Burgenland side and often terrible on the N.Ö.-side! 

[a picture shows] Hagensdorf children. Whereas the married women dress completely in black or other somber colors, the girls are dressed in vivid colors with much red. The boy in the rear wears his beret in Hungarian fashion. Since tourists are non-existent in southern Burgenland, and cameras are few, the cildren do not know how to pose for a picture. 25 March 1957 [] 

We did see geese, but they hardly swarmed over the roads and fields. Places to stay were certainly few; when we stopped overnight in Lockenhaus, we were bitten by fleas in our bed! 

While I was reading all the old newspapers in the Landesbibliothek in Eisenstadt, I stayed in two Gasthäuser in Eisenstadt. I remember my room in the Eder as being so cold that I went to bed with my overcoat on and slowly undressed under the covers. It was amazing that the provincial capital did not have one good hotel. (However, I could not have afforded to stay in one if there had been one.) 

Later, especially in March and April, I made numerous trips into and through Burgenland, examining every portion of the province, and being fascinated by the valleys of the south. The countryside was charming, and most of the pretty villages were "Strassendörfer", with the whitewashed houses lined up on either side of the street. Usually each house was at right angles to the road, and along one side was a narrow hof [court yard]. The kitchen with the oven was half way back, the bedroom usually behind it, and further back were the tools, wood, and animals. Because of the danger of fire, very few houses still had straw roofs, and those were mostly in the south. In some of the villages the shutters or the whole houses were painted; I remember Luising and Kemeten as being very bright and colorful. 

Although I was able to get a very cute picture of children in Hagensdorf, I did not notice many children. lt was clear that the birth rate had fallen, probably because so many of the young married people had emigrated. One school in Stegersbach had had 65 pupils in 1921, but had only 26 in 1957; the official minimum to keep a school open was 20. Family groupings were strong, and it was common for all members of the extended family to vote the same, and to keep marriages within the group. 

Religion was strongly felt, both for and against. Burgenland possessed several fine pilgrimage churches. Perhaps the most notable were those in Frauenkirchen and Loretto in the north, and Gaas in the south. I happened to be east of Güssing on March 25, the feast of the Annunciation. I was stopped by several bone-weary old women who were walking home after their pilgrimage to Maria am Weinberg, overlooking Gaas. I was able to stuff them into my tiny car and drive them home to Hagensdorf and Luising. In contrast to this piety, was the distrust of religion going to church, as usually did their families as well. After all, there had been a virtual civil war fought between the Socialists and the Christliche in 1933-34. 

Many villages had both Catholic and Protestant (evangelisch) churches; their members tended to keep to themselves, and even to attend their own taverns. There were Stories of street fights between the boys attending the schools. The Protestant pastors could not forget that, at least in Austria, they did not enjoy religious freedom until after 1786. Perhaps as a response to the end of that long-ago persecution, their churches were often built with very high towers. 

Except for a few factories and small mines, the local economy was based almost entirely on agriculture. Most of the produce was for home consumption, to feed the people and the animals. Wine was the king of the cash crops, but wine was profitable in only a few locales: along south-facing slopes such as the edge of the Parndorfer Platte (Gols), the flanks of the Leithagebirge (Eisenstadt), the Rustergebirge (Rust-Mörbisch-Oggau), along the Wulka, and on the Eisenberg in the south; also on the sun-soaked plains east of the Neusiedler See (Illmitz etc.). It was possible to have one's own bottle filled with the "house wine". I recall one day when Walter Dujmovits informed me that a vintner in Eisenstadt had some of his good wine for sale. I took an empty bottle and had it filled; it was indeed good. 

For the great majority of the peasant farmers, the sale of animals and sometimes milk was the principal local source of money. For the most part the animals were not driven to market; rather the Viennese buyers drove their trucks right into the villages to pick up the animals, milk or eggs. Rye and wheat were the predominant grains. There was very little maize (corn). (In contrast, in 1989 I noticed that here had been an enormous expansion of maize and vineyards.) 

By North American standards the land holdings were very small. The usual figure I heard was about 6 hectares, 15 acres. This was felt to be sufficient. One farmer claimed that he could make a goodliving from his 4 hectares, IO acres, of rich Lafnitz valley bottomland. (There were unfortunate owners of "dwarf-holdings" who tried to get by with even less than 2 hectares). Despite what looked like land poverty to me, many of the peasants still believed that they were better off than the "hungry" burgers in Vienna. (Vienna had been besieged only 11 years before.) A visit to a home usually ended with me taking home a gift of eggs. 

I don't remember seeing many tractors or other machinery; almost every peasant still had his horse and/or oxen. The working of the land required much hand labor, and the older peasants were heavily dependent on having members of the family to help. One older man told me how he had pleaded tearfully with his son not to leave for America, but the young man left anyhow; the old couple did not know how they would manage without him. I heard too of young men who were willing to stay on the land, but could not find a girl willing to marry them and become a peasant wife. 

Being the only driver on a road did not mean that I could avoid the traffic cops. One day, with no other car in sight, I parked on the road for a good look at the stone-quarry in St. Margarethen. Sure enough a policeman came along, announced to me that I could not park there, wrote me a ticket, and asked for immediate payment. So, I paid. When I got back to Eisenstadt, I told my friends at the Landesbibliothek, Karl Semmelweiss und Dr. Sinowatz (later, 1983-86, Chancellor of Austria) of the ticket. They were angry and told me that if I hadn't already paid, they would have "fixed" the matter. But, of course I had paid; what else can a foreigner do? 

[to be continued ]