to say a last good-bye this time. We gave him rendezvous in Paris, as we
should like very much to do something for him. He was untiring and
devoted to us all the time we were at Moscow--never tired, always taking
a great deal of trouble to see that we were well taken care of, and
helping us in every way. I found three or four handsome bouquets in the
cabin--one from him, and one from M. Lomatch, the proprietor of our
hotel. He has written to the hotel at Stockholm for rooms for us. We
arrive Sunday morning--have three nights at sea. Adelaide is quite
excited at the prospect of a real voyage "en mer."
We had a very good supper about 8.30, just as we were passing Cronstadt.
We have made a very nice arrangement for our meals. The idea of a
table-d'hote with all the people who are on board (many more than I
thought) was appalling, so we are to have all our meals half an hour
before the others at a small table in the dining-room. It is a most
satisfactory arrangement, and we had a nice quiet hour on deck while
the other passengers were supping. It was a lovely evening--the sea
absolutely calm, and so warm I hardly needed my cloak. We sat late on
deck. They brought us a table with tea and Swedish punch, which seems to
be the favourite drink here.
The passengers all came up after their supper. They were quiet
enough--all had tea, punch, and cigars, and a great many played cards.
The men look like commis-voyageurs, or small shopkeepers--almost all, I
should think, Swedes or Norwegians. There are three or four English
women and girls, governesses, the Captain tells me, going to Stockholm
and Christiania.
We went down to our cabin about 12--always the same curious grey light.
I slept perfectly well. It seemed to me there was a little roulis about
3 o'clock (I heard a clock strike somewhere), but it was only pleasant.
I was up at 8 and had my tea and toast in the ladies' cabin close to a
port-hole, and was rather sorry I hadn't had it on deck. I went up as
soon as I had finished. We were passing through a series of little
bays, all dotted over with islands, some fairly large, some merely a
granite rock with a pine tree on it.
Saturday, June 23d. "En mer."
I was interrupted yesterday by the Captain, who came to get us to stand
on the passerelle with him and see the approach to Helsingfors. The bay
has widened out into a sea, and the harbour seems important. There are
lots of ships and steamers--also small boats going backwards and
forwards between them and the quais. The men in the boats wear a red
cap, something like the Neapolitan fishermen. The town stands out
well--there are high cliffs rising straight out of the sea, and a great
many steeples (not the green and pink cupolas of Moscow).
We found Richard and our Consul waiting for us on the Quai, and we drove
at once to the hotel, and breakfasted. The steamer remains until 12
o'clock to-night, so we have ample time to see the town. Just as we were
finishing breakfast a gentleman appeared, a director of something
(Postes et Telegraphes, I think) who came to do the honours in the
absence of the Governor. He had an open carriage with a pair of nice
little Russian horses, and drove us all over the town. Helsingfors is
the capital of Finland, and I believe flourishing enough. The town is
small and rambling--entirely surrounded by water, and quantities of
little islands connected by bridges. I think we must have crossed about
20. Some of the villas are large with nice gardens. The Director showed
us his, which looked pretty and comfortable. The streets are narrow--not
much movement. The names of the streets are written in three
languages--Russian, Swedish, Finnish. All the functionaries are Russian,
the small merchants and shopkeepers Swedish, and the peasants and
sailors Finns. They (Finns) have a very marked type of their own, not
particularly Russian, nothing of the Tartar, only very Northern.
We dined at the famous Cafe du Parc. W. invited the Director and the
Consul to dine with us, and we had a pleasant little dinner, fairly
good. There was a good orchestra, who had evidently been told who we
were, for as soon as we arrived they played the "Marseillaise" very
well. It caused quite a sensation among the people who were dining, as
they evidently hadn't noticed particularly the quiet party which came
in--all of us of course in travelling dresses. The chef d'orchestre
asked our Director if we would like to hear some national airs--which
they played very well, and then I asked for the Polonaise from Glinka's
"La Vie pour le Czar," which they always played in Moscow whenever the
Imperial cortege arrived.
At 11 o'clock the Consul's steam launch came (the cafe is on the water),
and he took us all about the inner harbour, most curious and
interesting, and then outside. It was a beautiful moonlight night, and
we went sometimes so close up to one of the islands that we could have
spoken to anyone on the shore if there had been anybody to speak
to--sometimes we were in what seemed a great lake, with no perceptible
outlet. We cruised about until midnight, then went back to the hotel,
and walked down to the steamer. The light had changed--was rather like
dawn, but perfectly light. There were people and carriages, children,
badauds, loitering about the wharf. They told us a steamer had started
two or three hours earlier with tourists on board to see the midnight
sun.
We stayed on deck about half an hour to see the depart. The light was
getting much stronger--Richard read a letter quite easily, and at 1
o'clock, when I went down to the cabin, the sun was shining bright. I am
writing now on deck after breakfast. Young Moltke, a Dane, came on board
last night, and asked if he might have his meals with us. He too had
been at the Coronation, and found the standing all those hours very
tiring. The day is beautiful--the sea perfectly calm, and the long, lazy
hours on deck most resting.
This morning I was interviewed by two English girls--both young and
rather pretty, the fair English type. One was a governess going back to
her place, somewhere near Stockholm, in the country; the other was just
going out on a venture, had no engagement, knew no language but her own,
and had merely made the acquaintance of the other girl on the boat. I
suggested it was rather a risk coming so far without anything definite;
but she said she was sure she would find something, and she had a
little money. I asked her how old she was--17. "How could your parents
let you start off like that?" "Oh, there are so many of us, and I am
strong." They then asked me if I would tell them something about the
Coronation--so I talked to them a few minutes. They asked me if I saw
many Nihilists--as if they were a marked class--and did the Empress look
nervous.
I have also managed to talk a little to the stewardess, or rather to
understand her--as I have made out that she is married, and has young
children, and no one apparently to leave them with while she is cruising
about.
I wish I could sketch, there are so many charming little bits of scenery
that I would like to bring home with me. We are getting near Abo, and I
must stop. To-night is to be our rough night in the Baltic. At the
present moment the sea is like glass, but the Captain says there is
always movement crossing over to Stockholm. I should like to go on
forever in the boat. The long, long hours on the deck with this soft
grey sea and sky, with nobody to talk to, and no dressing of any kind
are enchanting. I have got a book, Tolstoy's "Guerre et Paix," but I
don't seem to get on much--I am always looking at something.
8 o'clock.
We have just got back after a lovely afternoon at Abo (the old capital
of Finland). The approach was very picturesque as we went some distance
up a narrow river to the town, which is not directly on the sea. Our
Vice-Consul was waiting on the quai with a carriage, and we drove all
over the place. It is now a dead city--all the life and interest of
Finland is absorbed by Helsingfors, but it is interesting. We saw the
Cathedral, the public gardens, and then drove some distance into the
country to see the oldest church in Finland--a little old, grey building
that looks any age. The country is very pretty, always charming views of
the sea, and a few villas dotted about, but nothing like as many as at
Helsingfors. It seems people come sometimes in summer for sea air,
bathing, and fishing, and occasionally English yachts stop a day or two.
We got back about eight, and I am writing now before supper. We found
the boat all dressed with greens, as it is the St. Jean, and they tell
us we shall see lights, bonfires, and torches on all the little islands,
as they always celebrate the St. Jean here with greens and lights. My
next letter will be from Stockholm.
_To H. L. K._
#Stockholm#,
Sunday, June 24th, 1883.
Well, Dear, we arrived at 12 o'clock this morning, and I was quite sorry
to leave the boat and my nice big cabin, and the good-natured
stewardess. Last night was enchanting. We sat on deck until 12.30. W.
treated us all to Swedish punch and cakes. It was decidedly cooler--for
the first time I had on the warm, long, blue cloth coat I started in
from Paris, and there was rather more motion. How it would amuse you--I
wish you were here. The deck looks quite picturesque--lots of little
round tables with groups of three or four people, all drinking
something, and most of them playing cards. Between 11 and 12 there is a
sort of night, or darkness, so they brought up some lamps, which looked
weird, and gave a faint, flickering light. We run sometimes so close to
the islands, between several, in a narrow channel, that one would think
it was impossible to pass, but evidently it is deep sea everywhere, and
we go steadily on without slackening. I am delighted we decided to come
by sea. It is again a most novel experience, and such a contrast to our
Moscow stay--all gold and glitter, and colour and courtiers.
We were just getting out of the little channels and islands and making
for the open sea when I went downstairs. The captain came and sat with
us a little while, and told us where we were. Some of the lights on the
small islands looked as if they were rising straight out of the sea. The
water was grey, and the rock grey--one only saw the light.
We didn't meet many ships--a few sailing boats as we left Abo--but no
steamers or big ships. We were up fairly early, as they told us the
entrance to Stockholm was so beautiful. Coming by water it rises
straight out of the sea like Venice. There were quantities of islands,
but much greener than those of the Finnish coast, and the cliffs higher.
Villas everywhere, close down to the water's edge, and running up the
hills. Little pleasure boats and yachts skimming all over the harbour.
As it was fete St. Jean all the peasants and country people were out in
flat-bottomed boats, crowded with women and children down to the water's
edge--the boats quite covered with green boughs and leaves, the women in
costume--a white skirt, coloured bodice embroidered in gold or
silver--silver charms and big pins in their hair. It really was
fairy-like for quite two hours before we arrived.
We got in at twelve exactly, and breakfasted on board. The river is so
deep that big ships run straight up into the town. The American frigate,
Lancaster, which arrived last night, is anchored directly in front of
the hotel, under our windows.
We took a most cordial leave of our Captain, who expressed great
gratification at having had us on board--hoped we were satisfied and
would recommend his boat to any of our friends who wanted to make the
same trip. W. and Richard were astounded at the cheapness of the
journey. I think they made out it was about 50 francs apiece--tout
compris. We were three nights on board, and had all our meals except the
day at Helsingfors.
We found various people waiting for us at the quai--one of the
secretaries of our Legation--the gerant of the Hotel de l'Europe--one or
two members of the French colony here, and M. Mathias, a French engineer
who lives here. We went across to the hotel in a ferry-boat and found
charming rooms, with windows and balconies on the river. The proprietor
informed us with much pride that the last distinguished foreigner that
had occupied the apartment was Mdme. Sarah Bernhardt.
We found quantities of letters, unpacked a little--I wasn't sorry to get
out of my blue cloth into something lighter, as it is warm. They say it
is going to rain, and it has been dull and grey all the morning. M.
Patenotre, French Minister, has sent word that he will come and see
us about 2.30. The King is here, and will receive W. The Queen and
Princesses are away, so I have nothing to do. The Royal Palace is
opposite--a big square building.
7 o'clock.
Patenotre and all his Legation appeared. They brought us some picture
papers with the Coronation, proclamation (the Heralds dressed in cloth
of gold, and preceded by trumpeters) and ball. They say the Graphic is
the best, but they hadn't it, you might perhaps, June 10th. We went for
a drive with M. Mathias, who will be our cicerone here, as he knows
Stockholm well. We went to the Royal Park, which is handsome--fine old
trees and allees, and to the Observatory, from which generally there is
a beautiful view of Stockholm and its surroundings--but it was grey and
misty, raining even a little, so we didn't see much.
We are to dine quietly here and go after dinner to a camp where soldiers
and peasants play games and dance and sing, in honour of St. Jean.
The river is still covered with little green boats darting about in
every direction.
_To H. L. K._
#Hotel D'europe, Stockholm,#
Monday, June 25th, 1883.
My Dear, this is the most enchanting place. The sun is out this morning,
and the river and green hills too lovely. The river is most animated,
quantities of sail boats and ordinary little rowing boats flying about
in all directions, and plenty of life on the quais. Our expedition
last night was not very successful. M. Mathias came to dinner early, at
7 (almost everyone dines at 6), and we went off to the camp. It was a
pretty drive all along the river, and would have been nice if it had
been clear, but it was a cold, grey evening, and began to rain a little
before we got home. We found plenty of people looking on--various
carriages drawn up, and it is evidently a thing to do--on a fine night
people get out and walk about in the crowd, but as it was misting a
little and decidedly muddy, we merely looked on from the carriage. One
of the military bands played very well, a sort of quickstep, and the
people danced with a certain entrain, but there were no particular
steps, nor national dances, nothing very different from what one
would see in a French assemblee when the people dance on the pelouse
before the Mairie. When they were all dancing round a may-pole dressed
with greens, it was pretty, with soldiers and the Dalecarlian
women--there were policemen, but not many, and the people looked quite
peaceable and happy, evidently enjoying themselves immensely. There were
quite a number of children--little tots that looked as if they could
just walk, joining in the ring. Some of the costumes were pretty. The
Dalecarlian women looked well--they wear a high black cap which is very
effective on their fair hair, which is plaited in heavy braids, and goes
around the head like a turban; a white bodice, bright coloured apron,
and gold or silver charms and hair-pins. The language sounded hard--no
more the soft Russian tongue--and, alas! I am afraid no more the long,
beautiful Russian twilight. The sky is grey and the clouds low. They
say we are going to have a spell of rain.
Mathias says the language is not at all difficult to learn, and it is
absolutely necessary to know it, particularly for anyone who is here in
any sort of business capacity.
We got home about 10 and went in to pay a visit to the Baldwins, who
have the rooms next to us. They had intended going too to the camp, but
the rain frightened them off. We told them they hadn't missed much. The
Admiral is charming--has been everywhere, seen everything, and takes
such a practical American view of everything. He was not at all
impressed with all the magnificence of Moscow--"All show (not much of a
one) and hollow. What is there underneath?" However, I said I thought
the show was pretty good as far as it went, and certainly no other
country in the world could offer such a sight; to which he replied,
smilingly, that I had been so long away from America that I had
forgotten what it was like. I stuck to my guns, and said that certainly
not all the intelligence, energy, education, and money of America could
produce such a pageant. What was so wonderful was the contrast. All the
modern life and luxury grafted upon that old half-Eastern, half-barbaric
world. I think I shall never again see anything like the dinner of the
Emperor and Empress the day of the Coronation. It looked exactly like
some old mediaeval picture as they sat there in their robes and crowns in
that old dark-vaulted room of the old palace. We had quite an animated
discussion. I fancy he always takes the opposite side on principle.
This morning we have been very energetic. Mathias came at 10 o'clock,
and we started off sight-seeing. We walked across to the Palace, which
is directly opposite, and were there about an hour. There is not much to
see, the rooms are large and high, all very simply furnished. Those that
give on the river are very gay with all the water life of the city
passing under the windows. There is one large gallery "des glaces"
rather like the famous one at Versailles, which they told us was
beautiful when it was lighted. There are quantities of portraits
everywhere, and these, of course, are interesting; also some fine china,
large vases. We saw, of course, Bernadotte's room, left exactly as it
was when he died there. It was a curious mixture of French and Swedish,
several French papers and brochures lying about on the tables just as he
had left them, quite yellow with age and the print fading, also
note-books and "projets de loi" annotes in his handwriting. They say he
never knew a word of Swedish and yet was so popular. There was a fine
portrait of him over the fireplace, a handsome man, with fine soldierly
bearing.
We found a nice open carriage waiting for us at the door of the Palace
and drove off to Drottningholm, one of the Royal residences on Lake
Malar. The drive was charming, through pretty green country, and as soon
as we came near the Lake, villas (generally white) in every direction.
We crossed various little arms of the lake before we arrived at the
Chateau. It is an enormous pile, and stands very well in a large park.
The Governor, a fine old soldier (who rather reminded me of Marshal
MacMahon), was waiting for us with his son, and showed us everything.
The rooms are large and bright and exceedingly simple. It seems the
Royal Family are very fond of the place. There is so much room that they
can have as many people staying as they like, and they all live on the
water. We drove through the park, and saw the Governor's villa, not far
from the Palace. As we had been going since 10 o'clock the idea of tea
was not disagreeable, so we consulted our coachman (at least Mathias
did, as we couldn't talk), and he told us there was a good little cafe
in the park, at one end, far from the Chateau, where the public were
allowed, so we stopped there and had a very good cup of tea. It was cool
and green, and we rather liked sitting there with the lake before us in
the drowsy quiet of a summer afternoon. However we had to get back to
Stockholm, as W. had to make a visit to the Ministre es Affaires
Etrangeres. He sent him word just as we were starting that the King
would receive him to-morrow at one o'clock. He must also see if he can
borrow anywhere a Swedish grand cordon. He sent all his decorations
back to Paris with his uniform, quite forgetting that he might want some
on his way home, and they tell him he must have his, that the King is
very particular about such matters, and wouldn't be at all pleased if he
presented himself without his order. Patenotre's is no good, as it isn't
the same order.
We left W. the carriage and walked home, stopping and looking at all the
shop windows. I don't know that there is much to buy, but we are going
on a real shopping expedition to-morrow morning. Mathias showed us some
queer old streets and houses and a famous shop where there were all
sorts of fishing outfits. He is very anxious that we should go on to
Norway, see Christiania and some of the famous fiords. He says the
country is much finer than any part of Sweden, and there is much more
"couleur locale." It is just the season for it. I should like it
extremely, but I am afraid W. won't. He wants to get home, and must stay
three or four days at Copenhagen, where there is a fine collection of
medals.
Now I am sitting writing at the window, waiting until it is time to
dress for dinner at the Legation. The river is a perpetual enjoyment,
always something going on. A big boat has just put off from the American
man-of-war. The men look a fine sturdy lot, and come up in great style
with a good, long stroke. They attract much attention, for as soon as
the boat left the ship a little crowd gathered and watched their
progress.
Here is W., who enjoyed his visit to the minister very much--found him
easy and intelligent, and much interested in the Coronation. They will
send him a plaque and a ribbon from the jewellers, so he will be quite
correct to-morrow. Adelaide is much disturbed because I have neither
fine dress nor jewels for the dinner to-night. It really is not of the
slightest consequence, as I am the only lady (Patenotre is a bachelor),
and we are going to the gardens afterwards. I shall wear Delannoy's
blue and white striped silk, half long, and take my hat in my hand, as
it must go on for our outing.
12 o'clock.
We have just come in from our dinner, which was pleasant and very good,
merely the three, Mathias, Patenotre, and one of his secretaries, M. de
Bondy. The house is large, nice, and looks very pretty, as the Minister
has been both in China and Persia and has brought back some beautiful
things, carpets, tentures, and curios of all kinds. He evidently didn't
find Pekin a very pleasant or healthy residence, says the cold is
something awful. He likes Stockholm, says the Swedes are pleasant,
kindly people, lead simple lives, and do all they can to make it
pleasant for the Corps Diplomatique. There are few large fortunes--very
little life, and little private entertaining. The Court gives several
balls and dinners every year.
About 8.30 we went off to the gardens and restaurant Haselbach, where
all the beau monde of Stockholm assembles in summer, but the season is
over and there were not many people there--of _Society_; _people_ there
were, plenty. The gardens are large, well lighted, a very good band was
playing, and everyone walking up and down the broad allees, or seated at
little tables with tea and punch. We sat there about an hour. Patenotre
pointed out various notabilities to us, but said he didn't know many
people.
Now we are discussing routes with maps and books. We shall start for
Copenhagen to-morrow night via Malmo, and must send in the morning to
engage our sleepings. It is a long journey. We leave here at 8.30,
and don't get to Copenhagen until 4.30 the next day.
Tuesday, June 26th.
It is lovely again this morning. Richard and I and Mathias have been
wandering about the streets shopping. There isn't much to buy--Norwegian
knives with carved wooden handles in a leather case, Scandinavian
charms, buckles, and brooches roughly worked, but rather pretty and
curious shapes--furs, too, of course, but we didn't want any more. I was
rather tempted by a large white stuffed bear. I thought it would look so
well in the hall in the country; but of course the only reason to have a
bear in the house is when you shot it yourself, and that was not
possible in the streets of Stockholm in the month of June. The day is
divine--sky blue and water dancing. The whole aspect of the place is
much gayer than anything we saw in Russia. People don't look sad or
preoccupied; there are always badauds hanging over the bridges and
exchanging jokes or remarks with the watermen.