REVEL AND HELSINGFORS.
Few cities within the limits of the Russian dominions possess greater
historic interest than Revel. Although its commerce is limited to a
few annual shipments of hemp, flax, and tallow, produced in the
province of Esthonia, and the importation of such articles of domestic
consumption as the peasants require, it occupies a prominent position
as a naval depot for Russian vessels of war, and is much frequented in
summer by the citizens of St. Petersburg as a bathing-place and
general resort of pleasure. A steamer leaves daily for Revel and
Helsingfors, which, during the bathing season, is crowded with
passengers, as in the case of my own trip, of which I have already
given you a sketch. The approach to the harbor, in the bright morning
sun, is exceedingly picturesque. Beyond the forest of masts and spars,
with gayly-colored flags and streamers spread to the breeze, rises a
group of ancient buildings on the rocky eminence called the Domberg,
comprising the castle, the residences of the governor and commandant,
and various palaces and quarters of the nobility, surrounded by Gothic
walls and strong fortifications. This ancient and picturesque pile has
been termed the Acropolis of Revel, though beyond the fact that it
overlooks the lower town and forms a prominent feature in the scenic
beauties of the place, it is difficult to determine in what respect it
can bear a comparison with the famous Acropolis of Athens. However, I
have observed that travelers find it convenient to discover
resemblances of this kind where none exist, as a means of rounding off
their descriptions; and since the Kremlin is styled the Acropolis of
Moscow, I see no reason why Revel should not enjoy the same sort of
classic association. It is to be hoped that when Russian travelers
visit San Francisco, they will, upon the principle adopted by tourists
in their country, do us the justice to designate Russian Hill as the
Acropolis of San Francisco; and should they visit Sacramento during
the existence of a flood, I have no doubt they can find a pile of
bricks or a whisky barrel sufficiently elevated above the general
level to merit the distinctive appellation of an Acropolis. Revel has
suffered more frequent changes of government, and passed through the
hands of a greater variety of rulers, than any city, perhaps, in the
whole of Northern Europe. In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries it
was a province of Denmark; subsequently it fell into the hands of the
Swedes, and in 1347 became a possession of the Livonian Knights, a
chivalrous and warlike order, who built castles, lived in a style of
great luxuriance, killed, robbed, and plundered the people of the
surrounding countries, and otherwise distinguished themselves as
gentlemen of the first families, not one of them having ever been
known to perform a day's useful labor in his life. Such, indeed, was
the heroic character of these doughty knights, that, having plunged
the whole country into ruin and distress, the peasants, driven to
desperation, rose upon them in 1560, and completely routed and
destroyed them, killing many, and compelling the remainder to seek
some other occupation. This was rough treatment for gentlemen, but it
happens from time to time in the course of history, and shows to what
trials chivalrous blood is exposed when it can't have its own way.
Finally Esthonia and Livonia fell into the hands of Charles II. of
Sweden, from whom they were wrested by Peter the Great. Since that
period these provinces have continued under the Russian dominion. From
the time of Peter to the reign of the present emperor, Revel has been
a favorite summer resort of the Czars. It has been rebuilt, patched,
fortified, and improved to such an extent that it now represents
almost every style of architecture known in Northern Europe since the
Middle Ages. The people partake of the same characteristics, being a
mixture of every Northern race by which the place has been inhabited
since the reign of Eric XIV. of Denmark. I spent some hours visiting
the churches and other objects of interest, a detailed description of
which would scarcely be practicable within the brief limits of a
letter. The Ritterschaftshaus, containing the armorial bearings of the
nobility, is a place of great historical interest; but I saw nothing
that afforded me so much amusement as the scenes in the Jahrmarket,
where the annual summer fair is held. Here were booths and tents, and
all sorts of wares, much in the style of the markets of the Riadi in
Moscow, of which I have already given a description. The crowds
gathered around those places of barter and trade appeared to enjoy a
very free-and-easy sort of life. I could see nothing about them
indicative of an oppressed condition. Most of them were reeling drunk,
and such as were not drunk seemed in a fair way of speedily arriving
at that condition of beatitude.
From the Jahrmarket I strolled out to the Cathermthal, a favorite
resort of the citizens during the heat of the day. The shady
promenades of this magnificent garden, its natural beauties, and the
display of equipages and costumes, render it an exceedingly agreeable
lounging-place for a stranger. Every thing is in the Russian
style--the pavilions, the music, the theatrical exhibitions, and the
predominance of naval and military uniforms throughout the grounds.
The scarcity of flowers is remedied to some extent by the profusion
of epaulettes and brass buttons, which the emperor seems to regard as
superior to any thing in nature. No garden that I have yet seen in
Russia is destitute of ornaments of this kind.
Gambling was going on every where--at every tea-table and in every
pavilion. This department of civilization is well represented in Revel
by the Russians. Horse-racing, cards, dominoes, and other amusements
and games of hazard, are their ruling passion. A Russian who will not
bet his head after he has lost all his valuable possessions must be a
very poor representative of his country indeed. I have rarely seen
such a passionate devotion to the gaming-table, even in California,
which is not usually behind the nations of Europe in all that pertains
to the cultivation of the human mind. Revel must be a heaven to a
genuine Russian. All is free and unreserved, and morals are said to be
unknown, save to a few of the old-fashioned citizens and gentry.
Visitors usually leave their own behind them, and depend upon chance
for a fresh supply in case of necessity.
The afternoon was warm, and it occurred to me that a stroll on the
beach would be pleasant. Accompanied by my friend the horse-jockey,
who seemed determined to hold on to me as long as I remained in Revel,
under the conviction, no doubt, that I was secretly engaged in the
horse business, and would come out in my true character before long, I
sauntered down in the direction of some bathing tents, scattered along
the beach a little below the port. My jockey friend was continually
trying to pump out of me upon which of the horses in the approaching
race it was my intention to bet, urging me as a friend not to throw
away my money on the roan or chestnut, although appearances were in
their favor, but to go in heavy on the black mare; and notwithstanding
I assured him it was not my intention to risk any portion of my
capital on this race, he was pertinacious in giving me his advice, and
could not be convinced that I know nothing about the horses, and
never bet on races of any kind. "Sare," said he, "you are a stranger.
These Russians are great rascals. They will cheat you out of your
eyes. I speakee English. I am your friend." I thanked him very
cordially, but assured him there was no danger of my being cheated. He
then went into a dissertation on the relative merits of the horses, to
prove that it was impossible for me, a perfect stranger, to escape
bankruptcy among so many sharpers. "But," said I, "the horse-race
takes place to-morrow, does it not?" "Yes, sare, to-morrow at three
o'clock! You will be there? I shall also be there!" "But, my good
friend, I leave to-night in the steamer; therefore all your kindness
is thrown away!" "Oh! you must not leave to-night. You must see the
horse-race!" In vain I assured him it was impossible for me to remain.
He was not to be put off on any pretext, and, having made up his mind
that I must remain, I was forced to drop the subject and let him have
his way. While he was enlarging upon the merits of the black mare, my
attention was attracted by a group of bathers--ladies, as I judged by
their voices, though, as they were dressed in rather a fantastic
style, I could not perceive any other indication of the sex. One of
the party--a lively young girl of sixteen or seventeen--seemed to be a
perfect mermaid. She plunged and swam, ducked and dived, kicked up her
delicate little feet, and disappeared under the surf in a way that
struck me with awe and admiration. Never was there such an enchanting
picture of perfect abandonment to the enjoyment of the occasion. A
poetic feeling I took possession of me. Visions of grottoes under the
deep sea waves, and beautiful princesses and maidens, filled my soul.
I thought of Gulnare in the Arabian Nights, and felt disposed, like
Mirza, the King of Persia, to "embrace her with great tenderness." It
was really a very pretty sight. "Sare," said my companion,
confidentially, "take my advice. She is blind of one eye, and has a
strain in the fore leg, but you may bet on her! I jockeyed her for
six months before the last race." He was still talking about the black
mare. I turned away to hide my impatience. After a few words of
desultory conversation, I excused myself on the plea of sickness, and
bade him good-evening.
At 8 P.M. I took my departure from Revel. A new batch of passengers
had come on board. We were soon steaming our way across the Gulf of
Finland. I had rarely spent a more pleasant day, and, if time had
permitted, would gladly have prolonged my sojourn in the quaint old
city of Revel. The summer nights were still incomparably beautiful. A
glow of sunshine was visible in the sky as late as eleven o'clock. At
two, the rays of the rising sun began to illuminate the horizon. A
dead calm gave to the sleeping waters of the Gulf the appearance of a
lake; and as we approached the shores of Helsingfors, the illusion was
heightened by innumerable little islands, clothed with verdant slopes
of grass and groves of pine. The harbor of Helsingfors derives a
peculiar interest from its system of fortifications. Nature seems to
have done much to render it impregnable; and what Nature has not done
has been accomplished by the military genius of the Russians. Immense
masses of rock rise from the water in every direction, leaving deep
narrow passages between for vessels. Every rock is a fortress. The
steamer passed through a perfect maze of fortifications. Guns bore
upon us from all sides--out of the forts, out of holes in the
rocks--in short, out of every conceivable nook and crevice in the bay.
The very rocks seemed to be alive with sentinels and to bustle with
armories. Probably there is no part of the Russian dominions, except
Cronstadt, more thoroughly fortified than Sweaborg. The system of
engineering displayed upon this point evinces the highest order of
military genius. The fortifications embrace a series of forts,
castles, barracks, and military establishments of various kinds,
situated on seven islands of solid rock, forming the different
channels of approach to the harbor. Count Ehrensuerd, Field-marshal
of Sweden, is entitled to the credit of having devised the original
system of fortifications, afterward so successfully carried out by the
Czars of Russia. This was the last rallying-point of the Swedes during
the war with Russia. In 1808, Admiral Cronstadt, the commander of the
Swedish forces, who had hitherto proved himself a brave and patriotic
officer, submitted to terms of capitulation and delivered over the
forts to the Russians. History scarcely furnishes a parallel to such a
wanton and unaccountable act of treachery. Cronstadt had fifteen
hundred men, two frigates, and all the munitions of war to hold his
position against any force that could be brought against him; while
the Russians were reduced to great extremities, and, it is said, had
scarcely force enough left to man the forts after they were evacuated
by the Swedes. Sufficient testimony has been gathered by historians to
show that Cronstadt bartered his honor for money; yet, strange to say,
such is the high estimation in which he was originally held by the
Swedes, that many of them to this day profess to disbelieve that he
was capable of such an infamous crime. It is thought by some that he
must have been laboring under some mental hallucination at the time of
the capitulation. Be that as it may, the success of the Russian arms
was doubtless greatly facilitated by this act of treason. Cronstadt,
like Benedict Arnold, died an isolated and broken-hearted man. His
ill-gotten gains were but a poor recompense for the infamy entailed
upon his name. Such, indeed, as all history shows, has been and must
ever be the fate of all traitors to their country.
Helsingfors was founded by Gustavus Vasa in the sixteenth century. A
portion of the old town is still visible, though there is little about
it beyond a few ruined walls possessing much historical interest.
After the Russians obtained possession they enlarged and improved the
city upon its present site, and in 1819 it became the capital of
Finland. In 1827 Abo suffered from a general conflagration, after
which the grand University of that city was removed to Helsingfors,
which now comprises the most important public buildings and
institutions in Finland. Among these are the senate-house, the palace
of the governor, the Museum, the Botanical Garden, the Observatory,
etc. The streets in the lower parts of the city are broad and regular,
and many of the houses are quite as good as the generality of private
residences in Moscow or St. Petersburg. The principal church, which is
built in the form of a Greek cross, is a conspicuous and imposing
edifice, standing near the centre of the town on a rocky eminence,
presenting on the approach up the harbor a peculiarly Russian effect
with its gilded domes and crosses. The green roofs of the houses also
remind one that he is still within the dominions of Russia; and if any
doubt on that point should remain after landing from the steamer, it
is speedily dispelled by the vast numbers of Russian soldiers and
officers constantly marching about the streets.
I had two days to devote to the objects of interest in and around
Helsingfors. For convenience and economy, I took a room in a Finnish
hotel, on one of the back streets. Having deposited my knapsack, my
first visit was to the Observatory, from which a beautiful view is to
be had of the harbor and fortifications. From this point of
observation a very good idea may be formed of the extent and general
character of the town. It covers a large area of solid rocks, the
entire foundation consisting of immense round boulders, forming a
succession of ups and downs singularly varied in outline and
picturesque at every point of view. Beyond the main part of the town,
toward the interior, the country is mountainous, and covered for the
most part with dense forests of pine. Cultivation has made but little
progress beyond the immediate suburbs. A few miles from the waters of
the bay the eye rests upon an apparently untrodden wilderness of rocky
heights and pine forests, and toward the Gulf nothing can exceed the
desolate grandeur of the scene. Rock-bound islands, upon which the
surf breaks with an unceasing moan; points and promontories covered
with dark forests; a rugged coast, dimly looming through the mist;
innumerable sea-gulls whirling and screaming over the dizzy pinnacles,
are its principal features. While I was seated on a bank of moss near
the Observatory, enjoying the beauties of the scene, strains of music
were wafted up on the breeze from the shady recesses of the Botanical
Gardens, toward which I saw that the citizens were wending their way.
It was Sunday, which here as well as in Germany is a day of
recreation. I took a by-path and speedily joined the crowd. The people
of every degree are well dressed and respectable, and I was somewhat
surprised to find so much politeness, cultivation, and intelligence in
such an out-of-the-way part of the world. The music was excellent, and
the display of style and fashion in the gardens was quite equal to any
thing I had seen in my European travels. From what little I saw of the
Finns, I was greatly prepossessed in their favor. They seem to me to
be a primitive, substantial, and reliable race, strong in their
affections, kind and hospitable toward strangers, amiable and
inoffensive, yet brave and patriotic--hating the Russians with a
cordiality truly refreshing. I formed a casual acquaintance with
several of them during my rambles about the Garden. No sooner did they
discern my nationality than they gave me to understand that their
Constitution had been violated, their liberties trampled under foot,
their rights disregarded, and their patience under all these injuries
misconstrued. "We only await an opportunity," they said, "to prove to
the world that we are still a free-born people. The time is not
distant. In the heart of every Finn burns the spirit of a freeman and
a patriot! We are not a race doomed to slavery. You who are an
American can understand us! We only want a chance to cast off the
chains of despotism which now oppress us. It is coming: we are
overpowered now, but not conquered! We hate the Russians! No true
Finn can ever amalgamate with such a race!"
This was the strain in which I was constantly addressed.
Notwithstanding the electoral privileges guaranteed to the Finns under
their Constitution, and the fact that many of the municipal offices
are filled by themselves, there is no more community of interest
between them and their rulers than between the Italians and the
Austrians. Their hatred of the government and of all its concomitants
is implacable. It seemed a luxury to some of these poor people to find
a sympathizing listener. I met many intelligent Finns, both in
Helsingfors and Abo, who spoke good English, and never conversed with
one for five minutes without hearing the same strong expressions of
dislike to the present condition of affairs, and sanguine hopes for
the future. There is only hope for them, that I can see--that the
emancipation of the serfs may lead to the establishment of a more
liberal system of government throughout the Russian dominions. All
hopes based upon isolated revolutions are futile.