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
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