Diaries of Grand Duke Konstantin Konstantinovich - May 1879

Konstantin with his sister Olga [Olya], c. 1880s

25 May — Crimea

...For the last time we drank coffee "at the swan"*—on the bank of the pond in the silence of the thick trees, below the rock and the church. The goodbyes began: all the inhabitants of Oreanda poured out of the entrance to wish everyone happy travels...

" — Sevastopol

Arrived in Sevastopol around 4... Spent 2 miserable hours before the departure of the Tsar, Tsaritsa, Mama, Sergei and Mitya. 

Tears flooded, the minutes of separation came. Olya and Mama cried: I felt the tears rising in my throat and also cried. Thanked the Sovereign and the Empress sincerely for their tenderness and care. 

We remained there: Papa, Olya and I. Drove to the north side, to the considerable Sevastopol war cemetery. It reminded me of '73, when I was here with Ilya Alexandrovich. I then really loved Lushkov and found the grave of his father and his name carved in gold on marble in the church. 

We went with awe into the pyramid church. Over the entrance is a mosaic image of Christ. I looked at the grand and quiet, meek parts and it seemed that it should be good to lie peacefully under the earth [here] and to rest from work, cares and wounds when such a Guardian is protecting against them. 

Every ikon in the Church evokes the time when the dead will leave their graves. 

We went around the cemetery, reading left and right on the headstones the names of those killed, those who died from injuries and the terrible words "mass grave". 

The sun went down, the cemetery garden looked cosy and natural, the warm air well-scented with flowers. Recalled the words: "Wait a little—you'll rest too..."

We had lunch on Popovka. With terror I awaited the minutes of last kisses with Olya—new tears. Longed to break at once and shatter in different directions. Brought Olya to the steamer Konstantin...Going away on a tender, I shouted to Olya: "Goodbye, Christ be with you". I heard her last words "Thank you". I got out on Popovka. On her Papa and I will sail the Black Sea...

Inside Popovka gives the impression of a terrible hellish machine. In the middle, between two funnels and thick ventilators, opens the wide abyss of a tower. At will, from there rises like bloodthirsty crocodiles 12-inch (40 ton) guns and they can get any angle of elevation. Suddenly all this abyss begins to rotate rapidly, and this action doesn't interfere with the guns rising in the same way. And suddenly, among the darkness, a Yablochkov candle lights up—and immediately everything around is bright and glittering.

V-A Popov [Popovka] c. 1873

26 May — Black Sea — Vice-Admiral Popov

Popovka is commanded by Balk. The society which gathers at Papa's is, with a few exceptions, not very likeable to me. There is no one with whom I could talk, more than to just unburden oneself...

I'm trying to pay attention to naval matters. I can't help but confess that questions of state interest me more than private naval matters. Had I my own way, I would serve in the civil service. But now it is my duty to be a sailor...Tomorrow morning maybe Batumi...

29 May — Batumi

Around us opened the mountainous shore, at the foot of the mountains is located a small, unattractive town with several mosques. At the edge of the spit enclosing Batumi bay lies the Turkish forces, in the middle of which is a pole to raise the lighthouse fire. The entrance to the bay is open and wide, though the bay itself is not great and cannot accommodate a large fleet. But private ships often come, Turkish steamships, English, French, the Austrians maintain contact with Trebizond, and the Russians with Poti.

The city is populated with Turks, Greeks, Armenians. In the mountains and outskirts of the city live Kabulets, Adjarians, [the transcriber has written "Ladi" here but I think it should be Lazi], and Gurians. 

Here Papa met: Prince Sviatopolk-Mirsky, temporary intercessor in the position of Deputy, the military governor, General-Major Komarov and corps commander General Svoev. They all had breakfast at ours on Popovka and also a Turk—Mustafa-Pasha. At 3 all went ashore with Papa.

At the pier was an honour guard of the Vladikavkaz regiment with many Georgian cavaliers. We were planted in carriages, some sat astride. Observed the Turkish coastal forces. Papa visited the military camps and hospital. Then went into the mountains. At the steep bridge Papa, I and Mirsky also went on horses into the mountains.

From that height was an excellent view of the sea and the neighbouring mountains. The city itself is in a low-lying, coastal and swampy ravine, the mountains start a little way back from the shore. The mountains here are not very high, but extremely picturesque and covered with fresh greenery. The sky was covered with clouds and they encased the snowy peaks of the inner spine. 

Around 7 we returned to Popovka. 

31 May—Simonovo—Kanonitsky Monastery

Weighed anchor at 1 in the morning. At 4 were in Psereti, went out to shore. Near to the shore was a stone church, surrounded by the ancient collapsed walls of a Genoese fortress. The bells were tolling, we were met at the pier by monks in vestments with crosses and holy water. They led us to the church and served a short moleben. We all then went over the mountain to look at the ancient temple. On the road the superior told us about how the monastery was founded. In ancient times Andrew the First-Called and Simon the Zealot, also called the Cannonite because Christ was at his wedding in Cana of Galilee, came to Abkhazia to preach Christianity. According to legend the Apostle Simon founded a church here on the riverbank...and there he died and was buried. In this century several monks came here, to Psereti, from the Athos Monastery. They founded a church and school for little Abkhazians. In the last war this was all destroyed. But, at the conclusion of peace, the monks returned, in 3 months built the stone church where we were, and will start the school again. 

We heard the noise of the river, though it was not visible through the thick vegetation; the mountains towered around, covered all over with forest. Here we saw a huge, branchy hazel grove, behind it an ancient temple of Byzantine construction made from hewed stone, half-destroyed, and covered with ivy and climbing plants; legend says the Apostle Simon is buried there. 

Above the entry dome of the church grows a huge fig tree—its trunk is inside, between the walls of the building. We went into the church. The dome is collapsed, the floor overgrown with burlock, and ivy papers the walls beautifully...To my delight, surprisingly, the ancient colours are visible on the walls; on the western wall, opposite the altar and among the ancient remains of the wall, paintings of the Assumption of the Mother of God are visible...

                                       ⧫⧫⧫

*Maria Sosnogorova's guide to Oreanda mentions a pond with swans, presumably this is what the Konstantinovichi called it. 

Translation by Lottie Bailey (@Medesikasta)

Sources:

Diary: К. Р.Дневники. Воспоминания. Стихи. Письма, ed. by Ella Matonina

Konstantin and Olga

Popovka