Cronstadt is by no means a pretty town in spite of its wide streets, and evidently the City Fathers were not a very energetic body as the walls of the theatre which was completely gutted by fire thirty years previously were still standing in their ruined state, while some of the actual panes of glass were still to be seen in their broken window frames, flapping in the wind.
The Catholic church is very large. I noticed how many of the shops bore French and German names, and not merely German names but also a great number of inscriptions, denoting particular wares, Cronstadt being a very commercial city and probably seething with German spies.
The place has distinguished itself lately by establishing itself as a separate Republic with the notorious Lenin as president--which state of affairs, however, was short lived.
A somewhat curious feature in certain places is that the pavements, instead of being composed of flags of stone or brick, are made of small pierced iron squares. The great solemn masses of the men-of-war lying at anchor in the harbour seemed to be sleeping on the still waters--unconscious as yet of the fearful doom that awaited so many of them in the Sea of Japan.
I was interested watching a young naval officer from a pinnace trying to conceal from public view beneath his cloak a superb bouquet of bright red flowers, evidently the symbol of the very ardent love he bore ashore.
The sentinels apparently considered I was too long stationary in one place, as they began to look me up and down with suspicion, which amused me very much.
A lovely walk bordered by a number of weeping willows runs for a long distance by the sea into which they dip their branches.
At that tune, there was living at Cronstadt an Orthodox priest, Father John of Cronstadt. He possessed a great personality, and was very well known in Russia. People, in some instances, positively worshipped him, giving him a reputation for working miracles, also of being a very holy man and even a prophet.
Once I ran after a war hero and pulled him by his sleeve, whereupon he turned round and gave me such a saucy look! But, showing my photographic apparatus, I made him understand that I only wanted to take his photograph. He beamed all over and I placed next to him another hero. They were both survivors of the glorious _Koreitz_ which not long before perished in the fatal Sea of Japan.