220 years ago this month, in April 1783, the Crimean Khanate finally lost its independence: the government of Catherine II forced Shagin-Girei to abdicate and leave for Istanbul. The Russian Empire and Ottoman Turkey thus began their history as joint owners of the Black Sea. The advent of Russian imperial power opened a new page in the annals of what once had been Tauris. “Moscow the Third Rome” finally established control over the Northern Black Sea coast. The Romanov dynasty mapped out a new major goal of its geopolitics, for Constantinople (the Second Rome) and its heritage played an extremely important role in the life of the Orthodox world at the time. Incidentally, very soon, May 29 will mark the 550th anniversary of the day the capital of the Byzantine Empire fell to the Ottoman Turks. The Day is certain to address this tragic and fateful date in the world history.
It is with the Crimea and southern Ukraine that the destiny of an ancient clan, whose representatives occupied the top offices in the Russian Empire during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, was inseparably linked from the 1820s. The biographies of the Vorontsovs and Vorontsov-Dashkovs, another branch of this family, read like a novel. For instance, Mikhail Illarionovich, brother of Mikhail Vorontsov’s grandfather, was in 1758-1763 omnipotent chancellor under Empress Elizabeth; his uncle Aleksandr was president of the commercial collegium (ministry) under Catherine II and state chancellor under Alexander I in 1802- 1805. Mikhail Vorontsov’s father Semion was a prominent general, comrade-in-arms of Count P С tr Rumiantsev, and ambassador to Venice and London. His sister, the so-called cavalry lady and president of the Russian Academy Yekaterina Dashkova was a woman of unusual destiny, a highly-educated person well-known far beyond the Empire, who corresponded and had conversations with Diderot and Voltaire, and was the author of Notes on the Catherinian period.
The “most illustrious Prince” Mikhail Vorontsov (1782-1856) was born in Saint Petersburg and sponsored at baptism by Catherine II. His mother, daughter of Admiral Aleksei Seniavin, died prematurely, leaving two young children in their father’s care. Semion Vorontsov was appointed ambassador to England in 1785. Falling into disgrace under Paul I, he refused, quite wisely, to return to Russia. When Alexander I ascended the throne in 1801, he rehabilitated all Catherine’s nobles whom Paul I had detested so much. Yet, Prince Vorontsov chose to remain in Foggy Albion, as did his daughter Yekaterina. The uncommon destiny of her son Lord Sydney Herbert, British Secretary of War during the Crimean War (1853-1856), is a special and still-to-be-researched page in the family’s annals.
And Mikhail Vorontsov? He was raised and educated in England until the age of twenty: he studied European languages, the political sciences, and mathematics; he read Ancient Greek and Hebrew with ease. The young promising count’s homecoming became a major event for the whole family. He had inherited almost all the huge property of the Vorontsovs, it is for his education that the aunt wrote the aforesaid Notes. Consider how P С tr Zavadovsky, one of the best known ethnic Ukrainians in the imperial service and minister of public education, described him, “I never thought I would outlive Russia’s agony and see a happy era (after the overthrow of Paul I — Author), finding consolation in your sweet son. With a kind and tender heart, he is modest and sober-minded, although still young.”
From 1803 on, M. S. Vorontsov saw active service in the Caucasus, took part in the Napoleonic Wars in Europe, and in the Russian-Turkish War. A very telling — and valuable for Paris — assessment of the Russian general was made on the eve of the 1812 war by Captain de Longuerue, aide-de-camp to the French ambassador in Petersburg (and a spy), “General Vorontsov, 30, has just been promoted to this rank for gallantry displayed against the Turks during the seizure of Bazarjik. Has good knowledge of the military art and is loved very much by his soldiers and all army officers. Fabulously rich.” These words were very soon confirmed: Major-General Vorontsov took part in the Battle of Borodino as grenadier division commander and was heavily wounded on the front line. He also distinguished himself in the Foreign Expedition, especially in the taking of Paris. M. S. Vorontsov stayed at the head of an occupation corps in the capital of France until 1818 and then retired with the rank of lieutenant-general.
January 1819 radically changed Mikhail’s life: in Paris, where he enjoyed the high life, he met Countess Yelizaveta Branicki who, later that year, wedded the dashing count. This almost doubled his property (the Vorontsovs became the empire’s richest nobles) because the wife came from one of the most illustrious and wealthy Polish aristocratic families, which owned dozens of large estates in Right Bank Ukraine. Bila Tserkva was the Branickis’ “capital.” On her mother’s side, Yelizaveta was grand- niece of Grigory Potemkin of Tauris, a favorite of Catherine II.
When Mikhail Vorontsov was appointed governor general of the New Russia in 1823, the family moved to Odesa. Simultaneously, the banished poet Alexander Pushkin was also there, working in the count’s chancery. Of course, he could not help setting his eyes on the brilliant aristocratic lady. Contemporaries called Vorontsova “one of the most attractive women of our time” in admiration of her grace and geniality. According to many researchers, the poet and the countess fell in love. Moreover, Pushkin completely lost his head and viewed Vorontsov as his only rival. The poet wrote a biting epigram:
One half Milord, one half in trade,
One half a sage, one half a dunce,
One half a crook, but here for once
There’s every hope he’ll make the grade.
(Translated by Babette Deutsch)
In the very next line, Pushkin shows his love cards: The puny singer David brought down Goliath who was a general and, I would say, a count indeed (literal translation).
Even in his far northern exile in Mikhailovskoye (there is every reason to believe that Vorontsov expelled the poet from Odesa because of widespread rumors about his liaison with Yelizaveta), does not forget his “little Lisa:” the margins of his manuscript of Eugene Onegin are studded with the pencil sketches of the lady’s full and half face, neck, shoulders, fingers, etc.
Here we cannot judge: the dispute of the two dignified men sank into oblivion. Like the great Russian poet, Mikhail Vorontsov also left his own bright trace like a comet in history and art. The Alupka palace- cum-museum near Yalta (five towered structures with open and closed courtyards and ladders) is the fruit of over 25 years work by architects and builders (the design of Englishman Edward Blore was executed by another Englishman, William Hunt). The building was conceived as a public reception palace. This fact illustrates the great importance the governor general attached to the Crimea. The interior was finished with the rarest varieties of wood, textiles, matting, and carpets brought from all over the world. The Chinese Room, the Winter Garden, the Blue and Calico Rooms, library, its collection of notes, engravings, and maps — this is but a fragmentary list of all the sumptuous palace holds, combining — quaintly at first glance but still organically — the English late Renaissance Tudor style with some elements of fourteenth and fifteenth century Muslim architecture. For example, the Vorontsov Palace’s southern facade resembles the famous Alhambra of the Arabic rulers of Granada in Spain. The frieze of a deep niche on the facade bears six inscriptions of Granada Caliph Mohammed I’s phrase “There is no victor but Allah!” The picture collection presents an astonishing variety of works by such prominent masters as Levitsky, Borovikovsky, Shchedrin, Orlovsky, Aivazovsky, as well as English, French, and Italian painters. The park laid out under the supervision of Karl Kebach, a past master of this art, is another pearl in the crown of the palace complex.
The Territory of New Russia with Odesa as capital included the unfathomable southern Ukrainian steppes from the Prut River in the west to the Don in the east, as well as the Crimea. The region literally blossomed during the years of M. S. Vorontsov’s rule: small towns and villages turned into the cities of Odesa, Mykolayiv, Kherson, and Sevastopol. Viniculture and sheep- raising flourished, roads were built (e.g., the southern coastal highway in the Crimea), and Black Sea shipping began. Undoubtedly, there was also a downside to the policy of colonization: the Crimean Tatars and other indigenous peoples (Greeks, Karaites, Krymchaks, and Nogais) were often robbed of the best land. The first colonists were mainly Russians, Ukrainians, Germans, Bulgarians, and Jews.
M. S. Vorontsov always remained a brilliant representative of the Russian Empire’s ruling elite, a loyal conductor of the policies of Tsars Alexander I and Nicholas I. Without trying to idealize his image (in the early 1820s he was close to the Decembrist movement, then he avoided all politics), we may still point the liberal views, intellect, learning, and the tolerance toward the subordinates of the “most illustrious prince” who was awarded this title as he received the new appointment of governor of the Caucasus (1844-1854). Vorontsov’s liberalism failed to stand the test of strength during the “pacification” of Caucasian highlanders: suffice it to recall Shevchenko’s poem The Caucasus.
We Ukrainians will always remember that many — like Nikolai Repnin-Volkonsky, Governor General of Little Russia in 1816-1835, and Mikhail Dragomirov, Governor General of Kyiv, Volyn, and Podillia in the late nineteenth century — managed to leave their imprint on the public memory not only with their deeds but also with what may be called true identity papers like the Vorontsov Palace. The question is now what today’s oligarchs will leave posterity.
