Tsitsianov strengthened Russia’s hold on Georgia, and set out to push the frontiers south through Azerbaydzhan to Persia — and as far as Tabriz if he could. With this in mind, he decided to upgrade the rough road that Potemkin had built over the mountains to Tiflis (Tbilisi), the so-called Georgian Military Highway. This strategic link between southern Russian and Georgia cut across Europe’s highest mountains and past the homes of some of Europe’s most troublesome peoples. Tsitsianov’s policy towards them was uncompromising, especially if they were Muslims (treacherous, he called them, and some of them were). Though many resented his rule, he was largely successful. He conquered Ganjeh, subdued Shirvan, and then tried to take Yerevan, the chief city of Armenia, but was diverted by rebellions in Georgia, the Kabarda and Ossetia as well as Chechnya. He answered resistance with firmness, blood with blood, opposition with retribution. ‘I tremble with eagerness to water your land with your criminal blood,’ he declared. He would impose order, he warned, ‘with bayonets and grapeshot until your blood flows in rivers’. 2 He burned villages and took hostages, and his punitive measures succeeded in quietening the Ossetians and the Kabardinians. Even the Chechens lay low for a time. Before he could complete his programme, however, the feisty, arrogant satrap met his nemesis.
The Khan of Baku was affronted by Tsitsianov’s high-handedness, but nevertheless tried to strike a deal. No doubt regarding the Khan as another untrustworthy Asiatic, the general refused to treat, and demanded the city’s submission. With characteristic bravado, he rode up to the walls attended only by an aide-de-camp and a solitary Cossack. The Khan’s men shot him dead together with his aide, then cut off his head and both his hands. The Cossack got away to deliver his gruesome report. 3
*
Tsitsianov’s proconsular style was by no means typical of Russian imperialism. In the less turbulent countries of Finland and Bessarabia, which also came under the imperial wing in the first decade of the nineteenth century, the government’s approach was markedly different. Thanks to a Finnish officer in its service, the Russian government was briefed and prepared to cope with the Finns. Colonel G. M. Sprengtporten had drafted rules for an autonomous Finland under Russia’s protection twenty years before the provinces were seized from Sweden in the war of 1808. When Russian troops invaded that February, care was taken to reassure the population: ‘We do not come to you as enemies, but as your friends and protectors, and to render you more prosperous and happy … [Affairs will be conducted] according to your ancient laws and customs … [and] prompt payment shall be made for all provisions and refreshments required for the troops.’ The caring Tsar Alexander had even arranged to set up storehouses to feed indigent Finns. 4
In March 1809, when a Finnish Diet was summoned for the first time ever and its members’ freely gave oaths of allegiance, the Tsar confirmed ‘the preservation of their [Protestant] religion and fundamental law, together with the liberties and rights enjoyed by each individual estate and by the inhabitants of Finland collectively’. In effect, his edict gave the Finns greater autonomy than they had enjoyed under Sweden. They were exempted from military obligations, given control of their own currency, and administered by their own officials. Indeed, their only link with Russia was to be the person of the Tsar, their grand duke. Most Finns had no problem dedicating their loyalty to him on those terms. 5
The acquisition of Bessarabia occurred in the context of another war with the Ottoman Turks. In fact Russia had been minded to acquire not only Bessarabia but the other Romanian-speaking Ottoman properties, Moldavia and Wallachia, too, and sentiment in the Balkans was favourable to the Russian cause. As a young man had explained to the French consul in Moldavia’s capital, Iasi, in 1806, ‘Russia has been good to us. It is to her that we owe our political emancipation [from the Turks], our limited duties and our part in the country’s administration … Russia protects us. Her armies are here.’ The consul felt that, were the French in occupation, the young man’s loyalty might readily be transferred to them. However, though young people with some education were beginning to embrace revolutionary ideas alongside their traditional Orthodox religion, Napoleonic France still supported their Ottoman overlords, whose enemy was Russia. Most, therefore, continued to look on Russia as their potential saviour. It became a question of how far its forces could advance in the Balkans before Napoleonic France, having paused for breath after its devastating victories over Austria and Prussia, would resume its advance eastward. As soon as Napoleon struck — which everyone knew could not be long — all Russia’s strength would have to be concentrated on the defence of the fatherland.
