Saratoga in 1901 :: :: University of Virginia Library

Morning dawns. I look from my window and see a deserted
village, with now and then a wandering haggard resident. The
women and children are gone, but a set of desperate men are
left. They have seized the battery. Professor Chandler is missing.
The Indians have cleared away the last vestige of yesterday's
developments and Congress spring is placid, but deserted.
What mean these groups of determined men? Why do they
come under my window and then go away shaking their fists?
I do not like this place.

I think I shall go away—go over to Ballston. Ballston is a
healthy place—healthier for me than Saratoga. No one urges
me to stay here.

Evening, Ballston Spa.

I left Saratoga this afternoon. My exposure of the snakes in
Congress spring caused even more dreadful results than I, in
imagination, pictured. The Commercial was published in New
York at two P. M. I was flooded with telegrams from the City.
My friend S. W. Coe, telegraphed:

“They have the same snakes at Richfield and Sharon,—but
they are in their boots. Leave the place.”

So I left.

After the guests of all the hotels had fled, some of the oldest
inhabitants met and drafted resolutions inviting me to go away.

I said: “Gentlemen, in this case of Congress water versus the
snakes, I am retained by the snakes.”

One venerable gray-headed resident said I had destroyed the
confidence of a confiding village—that I had destroyed commerce—the
foundation stone onto which the village's greatness
had rested for a hundred years. “Go!” he said, “before you
make this once happy village a howling wilderness.”

I said “Let her howl; but truth—everlasting truth—”