The Finlander to whom we spoke looked aghast, and explained that "not to have heard of Hangö was a crime, not to have been to Hangö a misfortune."
Accordingly, desiring to do the correct thing before leaving the land of thousands of lakes, we took the steamer from the ancient town of Åbo, to the modern fashionable watering-place of Hangö.
It was ten o'clock at night when we arrived from Åbo, and were met with warm welcome by kind friends on the quay, with whom we drove to the hotel, as we thought, but that was quite a mistake. We were at Hangö, and within five minutes the Isvoschtschik stopped before a pavilion where music was jingling inspiriting tunes; up the steps we were hurried, and at the top found ourselves, travel-stained and tired, in the midst of a wild and furious Finnish, or, to speak more properly, Russian ball.
It was a strange spectacle. At first we thought that some sixty or seventy sailors from the four Russian men-of-war lying in the harbour had been let out for the evening, their blue serge blouses and lighter linen collars with white stripes having a familiar air, still it seemed strange that such smart ladies, in dainty gowns, hats flowered in Paris, and laces fingered in Belgium, should be dancing with ordinary able-bodied seamen. Ere long we discovered these sailors were cadets, or midshipmen, as we should call them, among the number being two Russian princes and many of the nobility. Then there were officers in naval uniform, elderly Generals—who had merely come in to have a look—clad in long gray coats lined with scarlet; small persons wearing top-boots and spurs, with linen coats and brass buttons, who smilingly said they were "in the Guards," although their stature hardly reminded us of their English namesakes! girls in shirts and skirts and sailor hats, got up for the seaside and comfort, who looked as much out of place in this Casino ballroom as many high dames appeared next morning while wandering down to the "Bad Hus" to be bathed in mud or pine, their gorgeous silk linings and lace-trimmed skirts appearing absolutely ridiculous on the sandy roads or beach. To be well-dressed is to be suitably dressed, and Hangö, like many another watering-place, has much to learn in the way of common sense.
It was Sunday. The ball had begun as usual on that evening at seven, and was over about eleven; but while it lasted every one danced hard, and the youngsters from the ships romped and whirled madly round the room, as youth alone knows how. We all get old very soon—let us enjoy such wild delights while we may.
No one with a slender purse should go to Hangö, not at least unless he has made a bargain with an hotel, or he will find that even a little Finnish watering-place ventures to charge twelve marks (9s. 9d.) a day for a small room, not even facing the sea (with 1 mark 50 penni for bougies extra), in a hotel that has neither drawing-room, billiard-room, nor reading-room. But it must again be repeated that Finland is not cheap, that travelling indeed is just as expensive there as anywhere else abroad, more expensive, in fact, than in some of the loveliest parts of the Tyrol, or the quaintest districts of Brittany and Normandy. And perhaps the most distressing part of the whole business is the prevalent idea that every Englishman must be immensely rich, and consequently willing to pay whatever ridiculous sum the Finns may choose to ask—an idea which cannot be too soon dispelled.
Hangö is certainly a charming spot as far as situation goes, and lies in more salt water than any other place in Finland, for it is the nearest point to the German Ocean, while during the winter months it is the only port that is open for Finland and Northern Russia—even this is not always the case, though an ice-breaker works hard day and night to disperse the ice, which endeavour generally proves successful, or the winter export of butter, one of Finland's greatest industries, would be stopped and perhaps ruined. Not only Hangö but all the southern coast of Finland shelters the summer houses of many of the aristocracy of Russia.
Out to sea are islands; skirting the coasts are splendid granite rocks, showing the glacial progress later than in other lands, for Finland remained cold longer than our own country. Pine-trees make a sort of park thickly studded with wooden villas of every shape and size, some gray, some deep red, all with balconies wide enough to serve for dining-rooms, though the pretty villas themselves are often only one storey high. It is very difficult in such a seaside labyrinth to find one's friends, because most of the houses are nameless, and many are not even on roads—just standing lonely among the pines. They are dear little homes, often very picturesque and primitive, so primitive that it utterly bewilders any stranger, unaccustomed to such incongruities, to see a lady in patent leather shoes and silk stockings, dressed as if going to Hurlingham or the Bois de Boulogne, emerge from one of them and daintily step through sand to the Casino—walking hither and thither, nodding a dozen times a day to the same acquaintances, speaking to others, gossiping over everything and everybody with a chosen few, while her daughter is left to play tennis with that Finnish girl's idea of all manly beauty, "a lieutenant," or knocks a very big ball with a very small mallet through an ancient croquet hoop, that must have come out of the ark—that is to say, if croquet hoops ever went into the ark.
Hangö is a dear, sweet, reposeful, health-giving, primitive place, spoilt by gay Russians and would-be-fashionable Finns, who seem to aim at aping Trouville or Ostend without the French chic, or the Parisian gaieté de cœur.
Wonderful summer evenings, splendid effects of light and shade on the water, beautiful scenery, glorious dawns and sunsets—everything was there to delight the poet, to inspire the painter, to tempt the worldly to reflect, but no one paused to think, only nodded to another friend, laughed over a new hat, chaffed about the latest flirtation, and passed on.