CHAPTER XI.

The Northern Mediterranean.—Depth of the Sea.—Where Amber Comes From.—A Thousand Isles.—City of Åbo.—Departed Glory.—Capital of Finland.—Local Scenes.—Russian Government.—Finland's Dependency.—Billingsgate.—A Woman Sailor in an Exigency.—Fortress of Sweaborg.—Fortifications of Cronstadt.—Russia's Great Naval Station.—The Emperor's Steam Yacht.—A Sail Up the Neva.—St. Petersburg in the Distance.—First Russian Dinner.

Embarking at Stockholm for St. Petersburg one crosses the Baltic,—that Mediterranean of the North, but which is in reality a remote branch of the Atlantic Ocean, with which it is connected by two gulfs, the Cattegat and the Skager-Rack. It reaches from the south of the Danish archipelago up to the latitude of Stockholm, where it extends a right and left arm, each of great size, the former being the Gulf of Finland, and the latter the Gulf of Bothnia, the whole forming the most remarkable basin of navigable inland water in the world. The Finnish Gulf is two hundred miles long by an average width of sixty miles, and that of Bothnia is four hundred miles long averaging a hundred in width. The peninsula of Denmark, known under the name of Jutland, stands like a barrier between the Baltic and the North Sea, midway between the two extremes of the general western configuration of the continent of Europe. We have called the Baltic the Mediterranean of the North, but it has no such depth as that classic inland sea, which finds its bed in a cleft of marvellous depression between Europe and Africa. One thousand fathoms of sounding-line off Gibraltar will not reach the bottom, and two thousand fathoms fail to find it a few miles east of Malta. The maximum depth of the Baltic on the contrary is found to be only a hundred and fifty fathoms, while its average depth is considerably less than a hundred fathoms. It cannot be said that these waters deserve the expressive epithet which has been applied to the sea that laves the coast of Italy and the Grecian Isles; namely, "The cradle of the human race," but yet the ages ancient and modern have not been without their full share of startling episodes in these more northern regions.

It is a curious though familiar fact that the waters of the Baltic, or rather the bottom of the basin in which it lies, is rich in amber, which the agitated waters cast upon the shores in large quantities annually,—a process which has been going on here for three or four centuries at least. We all know that amber is an indurated fossil resin produced by an extinct species of pine; so that it is evident that where these waters ebb and flow there were once flourishing forests of amber pines. These were doubtless submerged by the gradual encroachment of the sea, or suddenly engulfed by some grand volcanic action of Nature. Pieces of the bark and the cones of the pine-tree are often found adhering to the amber, and insects of a kind unknown to our day are also found embedded in its yellow depths. The largest piece of amber extant is in the Berlin Museum, and is about the size of a child's head. This is dark and lacks transparency, a quality which is particularly sought for by those who trade in the article. It is known that the peninsula of Scandinavia is gradually becoming elevated above the surrounding waters at the north, and depressed in an equal ratio in the extreme south,—a fact which is held to be of great interest among geologists. The total change in the level has been carefully observed and recorded by scientific commissions, and the aggregate certified to is a trifle over three feet occurring in a period of a hundred and eighteen years.

We took passage on a neat little steamer of about four hundred tons which plies regularly between the capitals of Sweden and Russia, stopping on the way at Åbo and Helsingfors, a distance in all of about six hundred miles. By this route, after crossing the open sea, one passes through an almost endless labyrinth of picturesque islands in the Gulf of Finland, including the archipelago known as the Aland Isles, besides many isolated ones quite near to the coast of Finland. This forms a most delightful sail, the waters being nearly always smooth, except during a few hours of necessary exposure in the open Gulf. The islands are generally covered with a variety of trees and attractive verdure, many of them being also improved for the purpose of small farms, embracing appropriate clusters of buildings, about which were grouped domestic cattle and bevies of merry children, making memorable pictures as we wound in and out among them pursuing the course of the channel. The great contrast between these low-lying verdant islands and those lofty, frowning, jagged, and snow-capped ones which we had so lately encountered in the far North was striking indeed. By and by we enter the fjord which leads up to Åbo from the Gulf, which is also dotted here and there by the most beautiful, garden-like islands imaginable, and upon which are built many pretty châlets, forming the summer homes of the citizens of Finmark's former capital. It would be difficult to name a trip of a mingled sea-and-land character so thoroughly delightful; it constantly and vividly recalled the thousand islands of the St. Lawrence in North America, and the Inland Sea of Japan. The town of Åbo has a population of about twenty-five thousand, who are mostly of Swedish descent. It is thrifty, cleanly, and wears an aspect of quiet prosperity. The place is venerable in years, and has a record reaching back for over seven centuries. Here the Russian flag—red, blue, and white—first begins to greet one from all appropriate points, and more especially from the shipping; but we almost unconsciously pass from one nationality to another where the dividing lines are of so mingled a character. The most prominent building to catch the stranger's eye on entering the harbor is the long barrack-like prison upon a hillside. In front of us loomed up the famous old castle of Åbo, awkward and irregular in shape, and snow white. Here in the olden time Gustavus Vasa, Eric XIV., and John III. held royal court. The streets are few but very broad, which causes the town to cover an area quite out of proportion to the number of its inhabitants. The buildings are all modern, as the fire-fiend destroyed nearly the entire place so late as 1827, when nine hundred buildings and over were consumed within the space of a few hours.

The Russian Chapel is a conspicuous and characteristic building, and so is the Astronomical Observatory, situated on the highest eminence in the town. This structure has lately been converted into a scientific school. Crowds of pupils were filing out of its doors just as we made fast to the shore in full view. The cathedral is an object of some interest, and contains many curious relics. Åbo however is a very quiet little town, whose glory has departed since it ceased in 1819 to be the political capital of Finland. It formerly boasted a University, but that institution and its large library were swept away by the fire already mentioned.

Helsingfors is situated still farther up the Gulf, facing the ancient town of Revel on the Esthonian coast, and is reached from Åbo in about twelve hours' sail, also through a labyrinth of islands so numerous as to be quite confusing, but whose picturesqueness and beauty will not easily be forgotten. This is the present capital of Finland, and it contains from fifty to fifty-five thousand inhabitants, but has several times been partially destroyed by plague, famine, and fire. It was founded by Gustavus Vasa of Sweden, in the sixteenth century. The University is represented to be of a high standard of excellence, and contains a library of about two hundred thousand volumes. A gentleman who was himself a graduate of the institution and a fellow passenger on the steamer, entertained us with an interesting account of the educational system enforced here. The present number of students exceeds seven hundred, and there are forty professors attached to the institution, which is the oldest university in Russia, having been founded as far back as 1640. It is interesting to recall the fact that printing was not introduced into Finland until a year later.

The most striking feature of Helsingfors as one approaches it from the sea is the large Greek Church with its fifteen domes and minarets, each capped by a glittering cross and crescent with pendant chains in gilt, and as it is built upon high ground the whole is very effective. The Lutheran Church is also picturesque and notable, with its five domes sparkling with gilded stars upon a dark green ground, a style of finish quite new to us, but which became familiar after visiting the interior of Russia. The approach to the entrance of this church is formed by many granite steps, which extend across the base of the façade and are over two hundred feet in width. The streets of the town are handsomely and evenly paved, of good width, and bordered with excellent raised side-walks,—a convenience too generally wanting in old European cities and towns. Through the centre of some of the main streets a broad walk is constructed, lined on either side by trees of the linden family, and very ornamental. The buildings are imposing architecturally, being mostly in long uniform blocks, quite Parisian in effect. Several large buildings were observed in course of construction, and there were many tokens of prosperity manifest on all hands. The Imperial Palace is a plain but substantial building, with heavy Corinthian pillars in front. Its situation seemed to us a little incongruous, being located in a commercial centre quite near the wharves.

We need hardly remind the reader that Finland is a dependency of Russia; yet it is nearly as independent as is Norway of Sweden. Finland is ruled by a governor-general assisted by the Imperial Senate, over which a representative of the Emperor of Russia presides. There is also resident at St. Petersburg a Secretary of State, so to designate the official, for Finland. Still, the country pays no tribute to Russia. It imposes its own taxes, and forms its own codes of law; so that Norway, as regards constitutional liberty, is scarcely freer or more democratic. When Finland was joined to Russia, Alexander I. assured the people that the integrity of their constitution and religion should be protected; and this promise has thus far been honestly kept by the dominant power.