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.
As much as I would love to produce a complete translation of the diaries of Grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich, the majority of his diary entries are not readily available in any form I could find—print or online. These are only the fragments that I was able to find and which I hope will suffice until that day in the future when I'm able to happily wade through all of his diaries which have been preserved by ГАРФ.
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