The (Incomplete) Diaries of Grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich — May 1879

25th May—Crimea

...The last time we drink coffee "at the swan"—on the shore of the pond in the silence of dense trees, under the cliff and temple. The farewells began: all the inhabitants of Oreanda poured out onto the portico to wish [us] all a happy journey...

['']—Sevastopol

[Took] roughly 4 hours to reach Sevastopol...Spent a heavy 2 hours before the departure of the Tsar, Tsarina, Mama, Sergei and Mitya. Tears poured, the minute of parting came. Olya, [and] Mama were crying: I felt that tears were coming into my throat, and I also started crying. They thanked from the bottom of their hearts the Sovereign, [and] the Empress for their tenderness and attention. The three of us remained: Papa, Olya and me. We drove up to the northern side, to the famous Sevastopol military cemetery. I remembered the year '73, when I was here with Ilya Alexandrovich; at that time I loved Lushkov a great deal and found the grave of his father and his name carved in gold on marble in the church. We entered the pyramid of the church with reverence. Above the entrance is a mosaic image of Christ. I looked at these majestic and quiet, meek features—and it seemed that it should be good to lie dead under the ground and rest from labours, worries and wounds when one is guarded by such a Watchman. Every icon in the Church recalls the time when the dead will leave their graves. We walked through the cemetery, reading right and left on the gravestones the names of the dead, those who died from wounds and [I saw] the terrible words "communal grave." The sun was setting, the cemetery garden looked cosy and free, the warm air smelled pleasantly of flowers. I remember the words: "Wait a little—you'll rest too..." We dined on the "Popovka". With horror I waited for the minutes of Olga's last kisses—the tears were renewed. I should have liked to immediately break off and disperse into various directions. We brought Olya to the steamer "Konstantin..." Leaving the boat, I shouted to Olya: "Goodbye, Christ is with you." I heard her last words, "Thank you." I settled on the "Popovka." On it we will sail with Papa on the Black Sea...The interior of the "Popovka" gives the impression of terrible infernal machinery. In the middle, between two chimneys and thick fans, opens the wide abyss of the tower. If desired, two 12-inch (40 ton) guns rise from there like bloodthirsty crocodiles and get any elevation angle. Suddenly this whole abyss begins to rotate rapidly, and this movement does not prevent the guns from rising in the same way. And abruptly, in the middle of the darkness, a Yablochkov lantern will light up—and immediately all surrounding objects and brightly and brilliantly illuminated.

26th May—The Black Sea—"Vice Admiral Popov"

The "Popovka" is commanded by Balk. I don't particularly like the society that gathers at Papa's, with some exceptions. There is no one with whom I might talk, not only to take my soul away...I try to pay attention to maritime objects. I can't but confess that I am much more interested in affairs of state, than in particular maritime things. If I had my way, I would serve in the civil service. But now my duty is to be a sailor...We may be in Batumi tomorrow morning...

29th May—Batumi

A mountainous coast opened up in front of us, at the bottom nearby is a small, nondescript town with several mosques. On the edge of the spit that closes the Batumi bay, there is a Turkish fortification, in the middle of which is a post so that a beacon fire can be raised. The entrance to the bay is open and wide, it is not large and cannot accommodate a large fleet. But it courts many private ships, Turkish, English, French. Austrian steamers report to Trebizond, and Russian to Ponti. The city is inhabited by Turks, Greeks, Armenians. Partly in the mountains and partly in the city live Kabulets, Adjars, Ladas and Gurians. Here Papa met: Prince Sviatopolk-Mirsky, who temporarily assumes the post of governor, Major General Komarov and corps commander General Svoev. They all had breakfast on our "Popovka" and with another Turk—Mustafa Pasha. At 3 o'clock we all went ashore with Papa. An honour guard of the Vladikavkaz with many St. Georgy cavaliers was lined up at the pier. We were put in carriages, which sat astride [?]. Examined the Turkish coastal fortification. Papa visited the camps of the military units and the hospital. Then they took us to the mountains. At the steep bridge, Papa, I, and Mirsky also got on horses and rode to the mountains. From that height there was a beautiful view of the sea and the surrounding mountains. The city itself sits on a low-lying, coastal and marshy plain. The mountains begin slightly inland from the shore. The mountains here are not very high but they are extremely picturesque and covered with fresh greenery. The sky was covered in clouds, and they closed over the snowy peaks of the inner ridge. At about 7 o'clock returned to the "Popovka."

31st May—Simonovo-Cannonite Monastery

Weighed anchor at 1 o'clock. At 4 o'clock we were in Psereti, went ashore. A stone church rose near the shore, surrounded by the ancient crumbling walls of the Genoese fortress. The gospel was heard, monks in vestments, with a cross and holy water met us at the pier. They took us to the church, served a short prayer service. Then we all went over the mountain to see the ancient temple. On the way, the abbot told us how the monastery came to be here. In antiquity Andrei Pervozvanny came to Abkhazia to preach Christianity with Simon-Zealot, also named a Cannonite, because Christ was at his wedding in Cana of Galilee. According to legend the Apostle Simon founded a church here on the bank of the river...and then he died and was buried. In the present century several monks have come here to Psereti from the Athos Monastery. They founded a church and a school for young Abkhazians. In the last war, all this was destroyed. But, after the conclusion of peace, the monks returned, in 3 months they built a stone church themselves, where we were, and they will start up a school again. The sound of the river was audible, we could not see it behind the dense vegetation; mountains towered all around, completely covered with forest. Here we saw a huge, spreading hazel tree, behind it opened an ancient temple of Byzantine construction, built of hewn stone, dilapidated and covered with ivy and climbing plants; here according to legend the Apostle Simon was buried. A huge fig tree grows over the dome of the temple's portico—its trunk inside, between the walls of the building. We entered the temple. The dome has collapsed, the floor is overgrown with thistles, and ivy curls beautifully along the walls...To my delight and surprise, remnants of ancient paints are visible on the walls; on the western wall, opposite the altar and above the door, the remains of the wall painting of the image of the Assumption of the Mother of God is visible...

Source:

https://imwerden.de/pdf/romanov_konstantin_dnevniki_vospominaniya_stikhi_pisma_1998__ocr.pdf

The (Incomplete) Diaries of Grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich — 1877

4th June—Friday [sic?]—Frigate "Svetlana."

1 1/2 at night. I like to open my diary at the end of the day and write down my impressions; it is pleasant to think that the day has passed and all the bad things of that day will never happen again, if there were any. So now I am glad that the day has passed, even though it was not especially bad...

6th June—Friday—Pavlovsk.

Mama returned from Strelna. I found her on the balcony, sitting with Papa. She already knew about my departure and was happy about it. She knows her duty so well that she did not even frown when Papa announced my departure to her, she says that she will give everything for the fatherland [down] to the last drop of blood. She also requested this: when Papa had left, she wrote to him, asking him to send Mitya to the Danube, who, in turn, wrote to Papa. Mama wrote a letter with such thorough arguments about Mitya, with such a convincing request that she says Papa will not refuse her. I didn't like the idea that Mitya might go; very unpleasant! I wanted to be by myself, so that the people not from my "Svetlana" life would not disturb me. With Mitya, of course, will go I. A., who I love terribly but who will really bother me on the Danube without himself being aware of it. His presence, when I am by myself, makes me extremely constrained, I am embarrassed, I dread each of my own words and also my movements, so as not to see displeasure on his face. This is bad; I tried to force myself to stifle this feeling, even prayed for his departure after me...

7th June—Saturday

Had tea on my balcony. At 10 o'clock Mama woke up, we went to her. Today I have almost reconciled myself to the thought that Mitya will go to the Danube with us. Here we sit at Mama's; she didn't sleep for long and felt unwell. Papa came in. From the very first word he thanked Mitya for the honourable feelings and impulses expressed in his letter yesterday, but did not agree to his request, saying that he, Mitya, still had to study and not think about the war. I was almost sure of such an answer...Yesterday Mama expressed to me a wish that I fast before going on the campaign. Today, after dinner, I told Papa about it. He replied that he had the same idea, but it was not feasible because of the affairs occupying my time at the moment. For Mama, apparently, this was unpleasant, especially since I succumbed to Papa's word and refused the holy intention taken yesterday...

8th June—Sunday

Mama received a lot of telegrams, one, by the way, from the Sovereign, he says that he is happy to see me on the banks of the Danube...I really wanted to go to pray at church, and so I went alone without being watched. I said goodbye to Mama, left Mitya with her and went through the dim halls to the choir of our church. There I went to my knees, leant against the railing, closed my eyes and prayed, or rather thought, reflected...Tomorrow the priest will arrive, F[ather]. Arseniy. 

9th June—Monday

Got up quite late. At 10 o'clock Baranov cut my hair. At 11 o'clock went to church. We always stand in the choir, while the people—below. There was no one downstairs today, and I was glad of that, sometimes it's better to pray when alone. Mama came towards the end of the obednya. She hardly slept at all, she felt ill, but was sprightly and cheerful. I prayed well and thought a lot about myself. I am already very far from the time when it was so easy to pray and when it seemed to me that God and the Angels listened to me and did not disdain my prayer. But now it is difficult for me to focus my thoughts and to set my mind religiously. When I then, at last, delve deep into myself and begin to pray, I see my sins from the darkest angle and the past seems impossible to me. Then I think that God has averted himself from me and he doesn't need my prayers. And I remember an evening on the "Madeira." We were speaking to **, he was on watch, we stood leaning against the starboard [?] gun. I was comforting him, he had discovered something within himself...1.40 at night—Thus, I comforted him, he had discovered within himself many bad things, so bad that he could not see forgiveness for himself; I told him that the Lord rejoices more in the repentance of one sinner, than the holy lives of 99 righteous people. But now I remember those words of mine and they don't create a soothing impression on me, no more than they did on him...

9 3/4 June—Tuesday—12 o'clock at night. 

...A telegram came from Papa, who was leaving for Kronstadt. He ordered me to be at St. Isaac's Cathedral tomorrow for a thanksgiving moleben in case of the capture of Tarnovo. I bungled the excitement: wrote to Mama asking her to have obednya earlier, tried on tall boots, since I should be in full dress uniform. It is very unpleasant for me, that now after Communion I should fly to the city; it would have been much better to listen to an unhurried obednya and stay in peace all day...

10th June—Tuesday

The day of Communion has come...I promptly dressed in field uniform, i.e in an embroidered uniform with a broadsword and tall boots. Having dressed, went to church with F. Arseniy. There, in front of the imperial gates, they put a lectern with a Cross and Evangel. The priest read the prayers, and I began to confess. My confession has never before lasted so long, and the priest spoke so much and so well. Yet I did not have my former childish joy and peace, which enfolded my whole being after confession in former pure years. But this damned upcoming trip to the city especially disturbed the needed peace. Mama slept well and woke up by herself. We stood downstairs during obednya, there were no people at all. I could not pray in any way, positively, my tie which kept coming out from under the collar of my uniform, worried me much more than the upcoming sacrament. Here is how far my callousness has reached. The only good thing is the consciousness of my own unworthiness. When we with Mama were approaching the bowl, I felt very good and I, as always at these moments, lost any awareness. But having received Communion, I again fell into the pool of stupid worldly worries and again I was hampered by the tie, which kept wiggling out from the starched collar of my new silk shirt. I chewed communion bread and did not know how to thank God. Then we suddenly bolted to the city...The moleben was served by the Metropolitan with a lot of clergy, it was all very solemn, but I was terribly unfeeling...

12th June—Thursday—Pavlovsk. 

...My batman Fokin dressed me, Stepanov sent him for some reason. I told him that he might go to the city, fast with the rest of the crew going to the Danube. Dined in the Gonzaga Gallery. Then drove with Mama. I sometimes think that maybe this is the last time I will see dear Pavlovsk! 12.40 at night. Goodbye, dear, faithful, honoured diary.