Friday, June 22d. "En mer."
We are just approaching Helsingfors (twelve o'clock), where we go on shore for some hours, and I will write a little. I have a nice straw arm-chair on deck (the sail shades me), a table with books, papers, etc. We embarked at 6.30 yesterday. We went on the boat about 4—saw the Captain, a very nice man, a Finn, who speaks English quite well, and who is much pleased to have us on his boat. He went down to the cabin with us, which is really a large, airy room, with two very fair beds, and a sort of recess which makes a dressing-room. It opens into the ladies' cabin, where he had also arranged the end near our cabin for us—two arm-chairs, a table, etc. Adelaïde has a nice state-room just opposite—also Richard. There were not many people on board—and he said he hadn't many passengers, chiefly men.
We left cloaks, books, etc., and walked across to the Coutoulys', who have a nice apartment directly on the river. It is so broad and swift one feels almost as if one was on the sea-shore. There is much passing all the time, and a good many little posts, as at Venice, where the boats are tied. They gave us tea, and about 6 we went back to the boat.
Jaurès was there with some of his young men, and Benckendorff, who came 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. Adelaïde 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'hôte 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 Télégraphes, 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.