Read Online The Mystery at Saratoga by Julie Campbell - Free Book Online
Authors: Julie Campbell
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playing the license-plate game,” Trixie observed. “I’ve seen cars from almost every state in the East, and from many states in the Midwest and even from the West Coast.”
Honey nodded. “August is the big month at Saratoga, because of the races. It’s hard to believe, but for most of the year, Saratoga is a quiet little town not much bigger than Sleepyside. Then, during August, the population doubles and the excitement begins.”
Trixie whistled. “I can’t imagine what would happen if Sleepyside doubled in size practically overnight.”
“Saratoga has been a resort town for a long, long time,” Honey reminded her. “The people here know how to handle the crowds. In fact, the town depends on them. It was a man named Gideon Putnam who started the whole thing, really. He figured out what a great attraction the mineral baths could be, so he built a hotel here and started advertising all the cures that he thought were possible from bathing in the waters, and people started coming up from New York City.
“But if you think all the cars that are here from all over the country are impressive, Trixie, imagine what Saratoga was like during the eighteen hundreds,” Honey continued. “From what Daddy has told me, it seems that everyone who was rich and famous stayed here. Napoleon Bonaparte’s brother came all the way from France to visit Saratoga!
“Back then, people really did come here as much to be seen as to see the sights. Every afternoon at three o’clock, people dressed in their fanciest clothes and went for a carriage ride down Broadway, here, or out along Union Avenue to Saratoga Lake.”
Trixie closed her eyes, trying to imagine the scene. “It’s fun to imagine, Honey,” she said, “but I’m glad I wasn’t here. All that dressing up—ugh!”
Honey smiled. “Even I would have been uncomfortable in those parades. There really was a lot of competition to see who could make the biggest splash. It wasn’t just the clothes, either. Everyone tried to outdo everyone else in having the fanciest carriage pulled by the most beautiful horses. People didn’t drive their own carriages, of course. They had drivers to do that, and they even tried to outdo each other in giving their drivers the fanciest uniforms to wear.”
Trixie wrinkled her nose. “I think it sounds downright boring,” she said. “They probably spent all morning getting into all those clothes, fixing their hair, inspecting their horses and carriages. Then they spent the afternoon sitting in the carriages, riding up and down the street—without even having the fun of driving themselves. No wonder they started going to the races. They must have been dying for something to do!”
“That must have been what John Morrisey thought,” Honey said. “He was the man who brought horse racing to Saratoga. He built the first race track here back in 1863, and a year later he opened the track that we’ll be going to, where the races are still held. That makes Saratoga the oldest track that’s still operating in the whole country! In fact, one of the biggest stakes races here, the Travers Cup, was started in 1864, eleven years before the first Kentucky Derby!”
Once again, Trixie let out a low, appreciative whistle. “It’s really incredible, Honey. We’re only a hundred and fifty miles from home, and we’re in a place that has so much history.” She chuckled.
“Napoleon’s brother and George Washington in swim trunks—practically in our backyard!”
Trixie and Honey both paused to look around them, half expecting to see the parade of fancy carriages still taking place. Instead, they noticed for the first time that, as they’d been talking, they had left the well-preserved, attractive part of Saratoga and had entered a district that had a much different feeling about it—a feeling of sadness and poverty.
The streets were lined with run-down brick and frame buildings. Hand-painted signs announced rooms for rent by the day, week,
Honey nodded. “August is the big month at Saratoga, because of the races. It’s hard to believe, but for most of the year, Saratoga is a quiet little town not much bigger than Sleepyside. Then, during August, the population doubles and the excitement begins.”
Trixie whistled. “I can’t imagine what would happen if Sleepyside doubled in size practically overnight.”
“Saratoga has been a resort town for a long, long time,” Honey reminded her. “The people here know how to handle the crowds. In fact, the town depends on them. It was a man named Gideon Putnam who started the whole thing, really. He figured out what a great attraction the mineral baths could be, so he built a hotel here and started advertising all the cures that he thought were possible from bathing in the waters, and people started coming up from New York City.
“But if you think all the cars that are here from all over the country are impressive, Trixie, imagine what Saratoga was like during the eighteen hundreds,” Honey continued. “From what Daddy has told me, it seems that everyone who was rich and famous stayed here. Napoleon Bonaparte’s brother came all the way from France to visit Saratoga!
“Back then, people really did come here as much to be seen as to see the sights. Every afternoon at three o’clock, people dressed in their fanciest clothes and went for a carriage ride down Broadway, here, or out along Union Avenue to Saratoga Lake.”
Trixie closed her eyes, trying to imagine the scene. “It’s fun to imagine, Honey,” she said, “but I’m glad I wasn’t here. All that dressing up—ugh!”
Honey smiled. “Even I would have been uncomfortable in those parades. There really was a lot of competition to see who could make the biggest splash. It wasn’t just the clothes, either. Everyone tried to outdo everyone else in having the fanciest carriage pulled by the most beautiful horses. People didn’t drive their own carriages, of course. They had drivers to do that, and they even tried to outdo each other in giving their drivers the fanciest uniforms to wear.”
Trixie wrinkled her nose. “I think it sounds downright boring,” she said. “They probably spent all morning getting into all those clothes, fixing their hair, inspecting their horses and carriages. Then they spent the afternoon sitting in the carriages, riding up and down the street—without even having the fun of driving themselves. No wonder they started going to the races. They must have been dying for something to do!”
“That must have been what John Morrisey thought,” Honey said. “He was the man who brought horse racing to Saratoga. He built the first race track here back in 1863, and a year later he opened the track that we’ll be going to, where the races are still held. That makes Saratoga the oldest track that’s still operating in the whole country! In fact, one of the biggest stakes races here, the Travers Cup, was started in 1864, eleven years before the first Kentucky Derby!”
Once again, Trixie let out a low, appreciative whistle. “It’s really incredible, Honey. We’re only a hundred and fifty miles from home, and we’re in a place that has so much history.” She chuckled.
“Napoleon’s brother and George Washington in swim trunks—practically in our backyard!”
Trixie and Honey both paused to look around them, half expecting to see the parade of fancy carriages still taking place. Instead, they noticed for the first time that, as they’d been talking, they had left the well-preserved, attractive part of Saratoga and had entered a district that had a much different feeling about it—a feeling of sadness and poverty.
The streets were lined with run-down brick and frame buildings. Hand-painted signs announced rooms for rent by the day, week,
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