Saratoga and How to See It Part 14

Rise and dress; go down to the spring; drink to the music of the band; walk around the park--bow to gentlemen; chat a little; drink again; breakfast; see who comes in on the train; take a siesta; walk in the parlor; bow to gentlemen; have a little small talk with gentlemen; have some gossip with ladies; dress for dinner; take dinner an hour and a half; sit in the grounds and hear the music of the band; ride to the lake; see who comes by the evening train; dress for tea; get tea; dress for the hop; attend the hop; chat awhile in the parlors, and listen to a song from some guest; go to bed. Varied by croquet, ladies' bowling alley, Indian camp, the mineral springs, grand b.a.l.l.s twice a week, concerts, etc., and the races.

b.a.l.l.s.

The three largest hotels have elegant ball-rooms, where hops take place every evening. b.a.l.l.s are held every week at each of the houses.

Upon the latter occasion, the dressing becomes a matter of life and death, and explains why such numbers of those traveling arks known as "Saratoga trunks" are docked at the station every summer.

b.a.l.l.s are reported in the papers far and near, and the anxiety of some to secure a good report of their costume is amusing. Brown's dismay at the bills is somewhat appeased as he reads in the morning paper, "Miss Brown, of ----, a charming graceful blonde, was attired in a rich white corded silk, long train, with ruffles of the same, overdress of pink gros grain, looped _en panier_, corsage low, _decollette_, with satin bows and point lace; hair _a la Pompadour_, with curls on white feathers, pearls and diamonds. _She was much admired._ Miss Brown is the accomplished daughter of Mr. Brown, one of the leading citizens of the Metropolis."

The hops are free to all the guests. An admission of $1 is customary at the b.a.l.l.s, and choice refreshments are served. Upon ball nights, the tasteful iron bridge which connects Congress Hall with its ball-room, and the grounds of the Grand Union, are illuminated by colored lights, presenting a fairy-like scene of bewildering beauty.

Upon these occasions a large proportion of the population, both exotic and native, come forth as upon a festal day.

The Races

Occur the middle of July, and the second week in August, and are under the charge of the Saratoga Racing a.s.sociation.

The race-course is about a mile from Congress Spring. It was laid out in 1866, by C.H. Ballard, an accomplished surveyor, and is unsurpa.s.sed, if equaled, by any race-course in America, not excepting the famous Fas.h.i.+on course on Long Island. The swiftest and most noted racers in the Union are brought here, and many of the most remarkable races known to sportsmen have occurred on these grounds.

Indian Camp.

A few steps from Congress Spring, directly past the Saratoga Club-House, leads you to a wicket gate marked "Circular, Railway and, Indian, Camp."

The Indians are not such as figure conspicuously in the early annals of our country and in our favorite romances--as Eli Perkins says--"far different!" They are simply a Canadian Gypsy band, part low French and part low Indian blood. They come here annually with an eye to business, and open their weird camp to the public simply as a speculation, offering for sale the various trinkets to which their labor is directed.

The white tents glistening among the green hemlocks, and the rustic lodges displaying the gayly decorated bow and quiver, make a picture somewhat attractive; but the Indians themselves are dirty and homely, and far from inviting in their appearance. The slim, blackeyed, barefooted boys, who pester you with pet.i.tions to "set up a cent," as a mark for their arrows, have a sort of Gypsy picturesqueness, however; and as one walks down the little street between the huts--half tent and half house--he may get an occasional glimpse of a pappoose swinging in a hammock, and thank his stars for even such a fractional view of the pristine life.

The Circular Railway

Is connected with the Indian Camp. An opportunity is here afforded for enthusiasts and very gallant gentlemen to test their strength and patience, by propelling themselves and friends round the circle in one of the cars. The recreation requires the expenditure of no little strength, and is only accomplished by the sweat of some one's brow, but it is preferable, doubtless, to "swinging round the circle."

Within a few feet of the Circular Railway is a spring of pure soft water. The water is quite drinkable, and is esteemed unusually pure and wholesome. The well water of the town is good, and the water from Excelsior Lake, which has lately been introduced throughout the village by the Holly system, is considered superior.

Shopping.

Abundant opportunity is afforded those who have occasion to visit emporiums of art and fas.h.i.+on on shopping designs intent. The flas.h.i.+ng establishments under the large hotels, as well as several others in the village, cater entirely to the fas.h.i.+onable visitor. Everything desirable in the way of laces, feathers, diamonds and ornaments, and elegant dress goods are obtainable. It is the custom of many of the fas.h.i.+onable merchants and _modistes_ of New York to open here during the summer, branch establishments for the sale of their specialities.

There are numerous resident stores also, which would not disgrace New York or Boston; among these the house of H. Van Deusen, on Broadway and Phila street, near the Post-Office, takes the lead. During the warm season, the Saratoga Broadway glitters with the brilliant display in shop windows, and the gorgeous exhibition of goods upon the sidewalks.

Evening.

It is only in the evening that Saratoga is in full bloom. When--

"---- night throughout the gelid air, Veils with her sable wings the solar glare; When modest Cynthia clad in silver light Expands her beauty on the brow of night, Sheds her soft beams upon the mountain side, Peeps through the wood and quivers on the tide,"

then faces light up with the gas lamps. The parlors begin to fill with elegantly attired ladies, the piazzas are thronged with chatty and sociable gentlemen, and the streets are crowded, far more than they are in the daytime, by pleasure strollers of either s.e.x in elegant array. The ball-room becomes radiant with costly chandeliers whose effulgence is reflected by diamonds of the first water.

One dark evening, at the height of last season, in the midst of the preparations for a brilliant ball, the gas which supplies the whole village became suddenly exhausted. Candles were the only resource, and there was by some mischance a limited supply of these. Bottles were improvised for candlesticks, and stationed in the corners and on the pianos of the ma.s.sive parlors, rendering the scene grotesque and ludicrous in the extreme, while the closer nestling of lovers and the solemn stillness reigning on every hand gave sublimity to the picture.

The poet Saxe happened to be among the guests at Congress Hall, and borrowed a candle from a pretty young lady. The next morning she found under her door the following beautiful lines:

"You gave me a candle; I give you my thanks, And add, as a compliment justly your due, There is not a girl in these feminine ranks Who could, if she would, hold a candle to you."

Verily "darkness brings the stars to view." On this occasion there was no little "sparking," and though the flames of the gas lamps gave no light, love's flame burned brighter than ever.

Saratoga in Winter.

Saratoga is not a "Country where the leaves never fall, and the eternal day is summer-time." As the gorgeous autumnal sunsets of October crown the golden-capped, or no longer verdant forests, the summer beauties prepare to return to their winter homes. The falling leaves in this vicinity are wondrously beautiful, and the cool sunsets will richly reward those who tarry to behold them; but "the season" is over, and the little town becomes almost a deserted village.

"Brightly, sweet Summer, brightly, Thine hours have floated by."

A shade of melancholy cannot but possess those who remain after the last polka is polked, the last light in the last ball-room is extinguished, and the summer ended. At length the railway engine whistles at long intervals; the mail-bags lose their plethora; the parish preachers, shorn of occasional help, knuckle to new sermons; the servants disperse; the head waiter retires to private life, and the dipper-boy disappears in the shades of the pine forests; the Indians pack up their duds, and, like the Arab, silently steal away; while the landlords retire within their sanctums to count over their hard-earned dollars.

After a time the village seems to become accustomed to the "new departure," and local politics, Tammany rings and frauds, and committees of forty agitate the public breast, until Spring returns and Saratoga blossoms again with new beauty.

Romance.

Although Saratoga is preeminently a fas.h.i.+onable resort, and the city of vanity fair, it is nevertheless Cupid's summer-home; and lovers here acknowledge the first throbbings of that pa.s.sion of bright hopes, and too many sad realities--love. The complaint is always heard that "fish don't bite this season;" but autumn comes, the b.u.t.terflies return home, and then it is found that a goodly number have been _caught_. Those not matrimonially inclined should know that a sojourn at a Spa is attended with considerable danger.