The Circassian question: liberalism and the pursuit of freedom in the mid-nineteenth century

Abstract

For well over a hundred years, Russian expansion into the Caucasus put it face-to-face with the Circassians. This small group of Muslims successfully waged war against Russia, both militarily and diplomatically. By leveraging the demands of a liberal foreign policy currently in vogue in Britain, as well as the Ottoman Empire’s tenuous hold on power in the region, the Circassians manoeuvred their plight onto the international stage. As the liberal tide in Britain ebbed and flowed and the Crimean War erupted, Circassia’s ability to leverage the political context in which it found itself grew more tenuous. Ultimately, Russophobia and liberalism failed to secure freedom for the Circassians, who were killed or expelled from their lands in 1864. The Circassian diaspora now resides largely in Turkey, Jordan, Syria, and Russia.

Warriors. Concubines. Heroes. Victims. The Circassians occupied all these niches in the European imagination. Russia’s great literary canon featured the rugged terrain of the Caucasus and the love of its beautiful women.¹ For British observers from the eighteenth to the nineteenth century, the Circassians provided an irresistible story of exotic peoples locked in a battle for freedom. These ‘bronzed and armed children of the mountains’ were literary heroes brought to life.² For Russia, the Caucasus was seen as ‘their own wild south’.³

While Muscovy’s expansion into the Caucasus began in the 1550s, the conquest began in earnest in the eighteenth century.⁴ Michael Khodarkovsky characterises Russia’s expansion into the Caucasus as geopolitically motivated, ideologically consistent, and systematic, though challenging.⁵ The assimilation of the Caucasus was mediated by diplomacy and arms in equal measure, and impacted by the influences of external powers, such as the Ottomans and the Persians, as well as the dizzying diversity of the peoples of the mountain range.⁶ While Transcaucasia was under Russian control by 1830, pockets of resistance remained in the North Caucasus.⁷ One of the pockets still out of Russian control was in Circassia.

The Circassian (Adyghe/Adyga/Cherkess) peoples resided in the northwest of the Caucasus, largely along the Black Sea coast. In this corner of the Caucasus, the Circassians formed a unique ethnic group that came to be one of the last to be subdued by Russia. Much of the information available about the Circassians and their way of life, including their political structures, comes from travelogues and accounts by British, Russian, and French visitors. It is thus a challenge to draw back the veil over the Circassians, who, without a literary repository of their own, have had their voices extinguished.

The Circassian plight became a cause célèbre for the liberal voices of Britain in the first half of the nineteenth century. As Russia intensified its expansion into the Caucasus and Central Asia and the Ottoman Empire, the so-called ‘sick man of Europe’ continued to decline, the shifting balance of power in Europe posed the infamous Eastern Question. Russia’s territorial acquisitions and unfettered victories placed it in opposition to Britain, though this was largely not its intent – Russia was pursuing a policy of conquest, assimilation, Christian domination, and security along its frontiers that first started in the eighteenth century.⁸

In the nineteenth century, this civilising imperial mission was revitalised and rigorously pursued by the ‘Napoleonic Generation’ who sought to elevate Russia amongst the other great liberating empires of the age.⁹ This policy resulted in the Russo-Turkish War (1828–29) and the Russo-Persian War (1826–28), both of which concluded with Russia acquiring new territories in the Caucasus. For Britons concerned with the maintenance of influence in Central Asia and the protection of India, Russian expansion was a threat, one that sparked the outbreak of war in Afghanistan in 1838. In the British mind, it was conceivable, however unlikely (and how little Russia desired to do so), that Russia could march through Central Asia and into India.¹⁰ Thus, expressions of support for Circassia developed into a political and moral stance that reflected the leading geopolitical and intellectual currents of the time. For the Circassians themselves, this newfound relevance became a tool to wield in the fight against Russian domination.

Britain in the nineteenth century was in a period of liberal ascendancy.¹¹ Liberal (capital L) and liberal thought came to dominate at home and abroad. A group of Whig and Liberal politicians came together in the 1830s to form a liberal coalition under Lord Grey, setting the stage for what W.A. Hay describes as ‘the establishment of Liberalism as the dominant political force in Victorian Britain’.¹² To define British liberalism in the nineteenth century is, as D. Bell argues, to define a philosophy that ‘was splintered into a kaleidoscope of ideological positions’.¹³

Nevertheless, he provides two helpful definitions. The first, a comprehensive definition of the liberal tradition as ‘constituted by the sum of the arguments that have been classified as liberal, and recognized as such by other self-proclaimed liberals, across time and space’.¹⁴ The second, a description Victorian liberal ideology as having a ‘commitment to individual liberty, constitutional government, the rule of law, the ethical significance of nationality, a capitalist political economy, and belief in the possibility of moral and political progress’.¹⁵ Taken together, a clearer idea of the murky political waters of the mid-nineteenth century emerges.

While many historians accept that an official Liberal Party only came to power in 1859 (though others have argued for 1846, 1848, or even 1835), Liberal-Tory, Whig-Liberal, Liberal, and radical politicians espoused liberal ideology and enacted liberal policies that formed the foundational current of British politics from 1830 onwards.¹⁶ After the growing pains of the 1830s and early 1840s, Liberal politicians (and subsequently the Liberal Party) positioned themselves as the party of the people through free trade policies, which appealed to popular interests, Protestantism, and the enfranchisement of the increasingly important middle classes.¹⁷ As the leaders of the British Empire, liberalism and liberal policies were not restricted to the British Isles.

Nineteenth century foreign policy and imperial ideology thus reflected liberal values. As Bell once again succinctly states, ‘Imperial themes were woven through the fabric of nineteenth-century British political thinking.’¹⁸ There was a shift away from the nascent wariness of Edmund Burke and Jeremy Bentham towards empire, eclipsed by John Stuart Mill and others who promoted a ‘despotic, but civilising, imperial rule’ within a liberal power structure.¹⁹ As Uday Singh Mehta’s succinct, though perhaps imperfect, analysis shows, liberal imperialism was ‘part of the effort to move societies along the ascending gradient of historical progress’.²⁰ In the 1830s, 40s, and 50s, a liberal foreign policy centred around promoting constitutional government, ensuring moral, societal and political progress, instructing others in the art of civilisation, and defending the British Empire. Commerce, especially free trade, played a key role in achieving these international goals.²¹

For nineteenth century liberals, Circassia, like Poland, which had fallen to the autocracy of Russia, was an irresistible opportunity to wield the tools of liberalism – commerce, improvement, and civilisation – within a shifting European power balance. Occupying a niche between savagery and civilisation, European and non-European, the Circassian struggle was set against the backdrop of the Eastern Question and the Crimean War. As a ‘case study’ of the possibilities of liberal imperialism, the Circassians provided Britons an opportunity to flex their ideological muscles as they debated how to wrench a small ‘nation’ from the precipice of savagery.

It was in this context that a small, disparate group of Muslims at the edges of civilisation came to preoccupy those in power in Britain. Several historians have done excellent work on the Circassians. Most centre on David Urquhart and his interest in Circassia, with C. King, G.H. Bolsover, M. Jenks, and P. Brock all having produced excellent examples. P. Manning’s analysis of the ‘Liberal’ institutions of the Circassians, as imagined by other visitors to Circassia, and N. Luxenburg’s article on the Caucasian arena of the Crimean War are relatively rare examples of historians venturing away from Urquhart’s towering figure.

While these works, among others, are valuable and well-founded, they all seem to place the Circassian voice largely in the margins of the story, a supportive tenor to the irresistible soprano of figures such as Urquhart. Therefore, through the debates, letters, articles, pamphlets, and books produced by those engaged in this issue, another analysis of the Circassian question will be carried out, one that restores the rare traces of Circassian voices that remain and demonstrates how the principles of ‘liberal imperialism’ were applied and how these principles changed over the course of the mid-nineteenth century.

Liberalism and Russia in the 1830s

As Russia successfully pursued a policy of expansion in the eighteenth century, it became evident to some in Britain that Russia, not France, posed the greatest threat not only to British security, but to liberal ideology. As Russian influence grew, the Ottoman Empire decayed, and various liberal regimes, such as in Spain and Portugal, struggled for dominance, Britain’s first ‘liberal’ government came to power in 1830.²² This government was concerned with checking Russian influence and defending India, as well as defending liberal government from absolutism.²³ At the very least, liberal leaders, such as Lord Palmerston, Foreign Secretary, wished to appear to be doing so.

Lord Palmerston’s true political character has been thoroughly debated because of his stints as a Tory, Whig, and Liberal over the course of his political career. However, Lord Palmerston’s foreign policy goals reflected liberal ideals – whether Lord Palmerston sincerely subscribed to them is another matter. Thus, his foreign policy centred around establishing and supporting good, liberal democratic governments and promoting British values, as well as shoring up the Ottoman Empire against Russian incursions.²⁴ This was based on his understanding of Russia, which D. Gillard argues crystalised in 1833, as ‘pursuing steadily & perseveringly an undeviating system of encroachment upon neighbouring nations on all sides’ and of the Ottoman Empire as a necessary, though ailing, ally.²⁵

However, it is crucial to note that Lord Palmerston was willing to concede lofty ideals to reasonable compromise, maintaining the status quo to prevent tipping the scales in favour of Russia.²⁶ Noble, liberal visions of constitutional government and progress across the continent were challenged by a conflict within liberal ranks: the tension between military non-interference and the pursuit of global liberty.²⁷

Nevertheless, terrible visions of Russia marching on Calcutta aroused impassioned speeches in Parliament. In February 1836, Lord Dudley Stuart, a liberal and great advocate of the Polish cause, declared that Britain’s Russian policy was crucial. It, he declared, ‘affected all our most essential interests… our national honour… our naval supremacy… our commercial interests… our station, our influence in Europe, and the security of our possessions in India’.²⁸ Lord Palmerston was similarly alarmed by Russia’s apparent aggressive posture in Europe.²⁹

The Caucasus was a prominent feature in these debates. The British ambassador at Constantinople, Lord Ponsonby, expressed how Russia’s total subjugation of the Caucasus, an outcome which may ‘be more rapidly effected than sundry writers in books and newspapers imagine’, would allow Russia to ‘attack both Turkey and Persia’.³⁰

This fear of Russia was not exclusive to the political elite. The Times, one of England’s most widely read and influential newspapers, published anti-Russian information involving the Circassians almost monthly from 1835 to 1840.³¹ On 16 September 1836, a private correspondent revealed that the Circassians were standing firm against Russia, preventing the ‘increase of power, which the subjugation of these provinces would give to Russia in Asia’.³² Later, in an 1838 extract from The Times, the question of Russian power was described as ‘at once, and in the fewest words, despotism arrayed against freedom – barbarism against civilisation’.³³

These parliamentary speeches over Russian expansion reveal how the Caucasus – and thus the Circassians – were considered regarding Russian encroachment. They also provide the foundation of the infamous Great Game narrative. In it, Russia and Britain were locked in an imperial dance across the Caucasus and Central Asia. In this battle for imperial supremacy, Russia’s every move was in response to or in light of Britain’s possessions in Asia.³⁴

However, Russia also posed another, more intellectual threat – it represented a tidal wave of despotism and illiberalism that would sweep across the Caucasus and then the world. As Jon Parry notes, the liberal governments of this period treated Russia as ‘an ideological as well as geopolitical foe’.³⁵ In 1836, Lord Dudley Stuart asked if Russia was:

a mild, wise, beneficent, and enlightened Government, diffusing around the blessings of peace, good order, good Government, free commerce, and all those advantages which flowed from a well-ordered administration of any of them?³⁶

For figures such as Lord Palmerston, a liberal foreign policy meant challenging the autocratic values opposed to those of liberal Britain.³⁷ Russian expansion into the Caucasus and Central Asia, as well as its apparent designs on the Ottoman Empire was thus a commercial, geopolitical and ideological threat to a liberal Britain, which did not recognise Russia as a fellow European civilising power – instead, it was an ‘ideological foe’.³⁸

The Circassian mythology: David Urquhart and Russophobia

It was in the contested region of the Caucasus that the Circassians, a loose confederation of many different Adygean subdivisions, had launched fierce resistance against Russian conquest.³⁹ And it was here, in 1834, that avowed Russophobe David Urquhart found himself. A curious figure in the nineteenth century political scene, Urquhart was secretary at the British embassy in Constantinople until 1837, before running successfully for a position in Parliament in 1847. Described as a megalomaniac by a wide range of figures, including Karl Marx, Urquhart dropped the Circassian Question onto the political scene.⁴⁰ His brief, unofficial, and secret journey to Circassia in 1834 sparked a fascination with the Circassians that became a personal and political crusade. Urquhart’s impressions of the Circassians formed the foundation of how the British public would conceive of them and their struggle against Russia. His romantic journey to the coast inspired others to follow in his footsteps, producing numerous travelogues.⁴¹ Following Urquhart’s journey, the Circassians were brought into the British orbit. While mythmaking ran rampant through speeches, pamphlets, newspapers, and motions, the Circassians themselves now had access to the British political elite – and public – in ways they had not before.

In a speech given on 23 May 1838, the layers of Urquhart’s Circassian mythology are made clear.⁴² First, Circassia as a ‘land of romance’, filled with people who were ‘comely in aspect, vigorous of frame, with the eye of the eagle, and the limb of the roe… and the simplicity of the child’. The Circassians were also compared to the highlanders of Scotland, the Spartans, and the medieval warriors of old, their breasts ‘sheathed in warrior mail’ as they remained in the ‘primeval ages of man’. Comparisons of the Circassians to the heroes of the Classical world, the clansmen of the Highlands of Scotland, the European Poles, reflects how the Circassians were identified with other liberal causes célèbres.

Secondly, Urquhart evoked a sense of the geopolitical importance of Circassia. By referring to the ‘garrison of the Caucasus’ as the ‘defenders of your Indian empire’, and toasting to ‘Circassia, the bulwark of the British possessions in India’, he established Circassia’s centrality in the Great Game and Eastern Question. This continued throughout the 1830s and well into the Crimean War, with Circassia being lauded as everything from the bulwark to India to a crucial partner in the prosecution of war.⁴³

Thirdly, while acknowledging the heroism and geopolitical value of the Circassians, Urquhart also acknowledged that it was a ‘new-born state’, that had somehow maintained its independence even though the Circassians had:

No rallying-point, no common representation or supreme authority; they have no connexion with foreign powers, no diplomatic system, no stores or arsenals, no discipline, no flag.⁴⁴

Luckily for the Circassians, Urquhart saw a nascent nationalism within their divided ranks. In an impassioned account of his time in Circassia in 1834, Urquhart described how, when gazing upon the gathered Circassians, he proclaimed, ‘You are no longer tribes but a people; you are Circassians, and this is Circassia.’ Urquhart then designed a flag, green with golden arrows and stars, that resulted in a ‘new nation [being] called into existence’. The Circassians were, therefore, a ‘threatened nationality’. The nationhood of the Circassians was a source of much consternation, with some, such as Urquhart in the above examples, forcing a liberal political structure and conception of nationality onto the Circassians.

Leading nineteenth-century liberal thinkers, such as John Robert Seeley and John Stuart Mill, believed that inclusion in civilisation required ‘a particular form of political consciousness – nationality’.⁴⁵ For those interested in Circassia, finding nationhood in its loose political structure was essential. Finally, Urquhart expressed the commercial importance of Circassia – as well as the value of British commerce on ‘the integrity of her principles, and on the destinies of the minor states’, a realisation Urquhart came to while ‘on the shores of Circassia’.⁴⁶

The subjugation of the Circassians by the Russians ignited an interest which endured for approximately thirty years. The struggle between Circassia and Russia was seen as an epic struggle between a free, independent, liberal pseudo-nation and a backwards, despotic, and illiberal power. Urquhart’s 1838 speech contains the main ingredients that made up the Circassian mythology. Throughout the 1830s and 1850s, the Circassians were consistently discussed in these terms. The Circassians themselves sought to leverage this mythology within the political context in which they found themselves – with varying degrees of success.

Questions of Circassian sovereignty

On 26 November 1836, a British trading vessel, The Vixen, was captured by Russian forces in the Black Sea. This trading mission by the merchant George Bell to the blockaded Circassian coast, sponsored by Urquhart and supported by Ponsonby, who hoped to incite Britain into action against Russia, sparked a flurry of debates and disagreements over Russian sovereignty, the validity of the Treaty of Adrianople, Russian intentions in the Black Sea, the independence of Circassia, international law, British commerce, and relations with Circassia. The terms of both the Treaties of Adrianople (1829) and Hünkâr İskelesi (1833) favoured Russia, granting it the Danube and the Dardanelles, which gave it greater power over both the Ottoman Empire and Circassia – and thus, Britain.⁴⁷

The Vixen incident also saw the fall of Urquhart himself, who was removed from the diplomatic service in 1837 by an incensed Lord Palmerston, who saw through Urquhart’s scheme – though Urquhart had already been troubling Lord Palmerston for some time before the incident. Following his removal, Urquhart contented himself by writing prolifically and publishing pamphlets on Circassia and Turkey, as well as launching insults against Lord Palmerston.⁴⁸

The first question raised by The Vixen was that of Circassia’s independence. The language of nationhood was applied consistently to Circassia.⁴⁹ In the House of Commons on 3 March 1837, the radical John Arthur Roebuck proclaimed that the affair of the Vixen was not only about commerce, but a ‘question on the principles of international law, and also a question of peace or war’.⁵⁰ A 27 January 1837 letter to the editor in The Times asserted that ‘the Turkish Government and the nation await with intense anxiety the decision of the British Ministry’ with regards to the seizure of the Vixen.⁵¹ Roebuck denied the Treaty of Adrianople’s cession of Circassia, asserting that ‘all the rest of Circassia is in the hands of the Circassians themselves’, and ‘Russia has no right, according to the law of nations, to make any custom-house regulations.’⁵²

Other MPs, such as William Ewart, a dedicated Liberal, stated that ‘Turkey had no right to make any cession to Russia,’ while Donald Maclean questioned if any treaties demonstrated Circassia’s cession to Russia. Thomas Attwood, a reformer, gave another rigorous denial of Russian and Turkish sovereignty over Circassia, proclaiming, ‘Thank God, and the exertions of the brave Circassians, [Russia] had not yet got possession of [Circassia],’ granting the Circassians themselves a rare role in their own conflict.⁵³

In December 1836, a letter to the editor in The Times proclaimed that Russia’s prevention of trade with Circassia ‘is one so absurd and ridiculous that it is impossible Russia should… seriously attempt to maintain it’ as ‘these countries having always been […] in full possession of their independence’.⁵⁴ While many parliamentarians supported these assertions wholeheartedly, others were more measured. Lord Palmerston himself simply stated that he could ‘assure the House that His Majesty’s Government feel quite as strongly… [on] the great importance of the question itself’. However, in a later sitting, Lord Palmerston assured the House that he ‘did not think the claim which Russia had put forth to the Sovereignty of Circassia was warranted’.⁵⁵

The Vixen debacle and questions of Circassian sovereignty allowed parliamentarians to express their deepest fears surrounding Russian expansion, as well as their hopes for what Circassia might become. Attwood asked in 1837 ‘was it the intention of her Majesty’s Government to give any assistance to Circassia, or to allow Russia to take possession of that important country, which formed the gate to Asia?’ He then asserted that it was through this gate that ‘our Indian empire would be in danger’.⁵⁶ In December 1836, in the immediate aftermath of the Vixen’s seizure, a letter from the editor in The Times stated that Circassia ‘constitutes the bulwark which opposes the principal obstacle to the progress of Russia’s ambition, that in one word British interests in the east are dependent of the fate of Circassia’.⁵⁷ Quoting from the French Journal des Débats, an article in The Times asserted that England’s submission to the Treaty of Adrianople, and thus its acceptance of the seizure of the Vixen, ‘must and will eventually lead to the increase and extension of Russian power […] dangerous of course to the independence and existence of other nations’.⁵⁸

An 1835 letter from David Urquhart, under his nom de plume, Daoud, expressed his belief that eventually, England would realise that Russia ‘expends so much blood and treasure’ not just to conquer Circassia, but ‘to subdue the countries beyond the Caucasus – that is, Persia and Turkey’.⁵⁹ An extract from the Foreign Quarterly Review stated that upon Circassia hinged ‘the independence of Persia and of Turkey, the security of our Indian possessions, the respect of the independent nations of Central Asia’.⁶⁰ In Urquhart’s pamphlet, ‘British Diplomacy illustrated in the Affair of the “Vixen”’, he argued that Turkey’s ‘existence depends upon the independence of Circassia’.⁶¹

In the parliament, Lord Dudley Stuart gave a rigorous denial of Russia’s right to the coast, arguing that ‘Russia had no right whatever to Circassia’ on numerous grounds. Crucially, Stuart argued that it was the Circassians themselves who rejected Russian and Turkish sovereignty. Referencing ‘audi alteram partem’, Stuart quoted at length from a letter written by nineteen Circassian ‘chiefs’ that he swore to be authentic.⁶² This is the first, and only, time the words of the Circassians themselves were used during parliamentary discussions on their fate. In this letter, the Circassian chiefs stated that:

It is therefore with the profoundest humiliation that we [the Circassians] have learnt that our country is marked on all the maps printed in Europe, as a portion of Russia. We answer words with words, but it is truth against falsehood. For forty years we have protested triumphantly against accusations with our arms; this ink […] declares our independence; and these are the seals of men who have known no superior save the decision of their countrymen who understand no subtle arguments […] Who has the power to give us away?⁶³

Further quotations from the manifesto included an explanation of how Russia would go about conquering Circassia for once and all, as well as the consequences of this conquest:

If Russia conquers us, it will not be by arms but by cutting off our communications, and making use of Turkey and Persia as if they were already hers – by rendering the sea impassable, as if it were her own – by blockading our coast – by destroying not only our vessels but those of other states which approach us – by depriving us of a market for our produce – by preventing us from obtaining salt, gunpowder, and other necessaries of war, which to us are necessaries of life – by depriving us of hope.⁶⁴

The Circassians quite keenly evoked some of Britain’s deepest fears in this 1837 manifesto. The references to Turkey and Persia make clear that Russia’s expansion would not stop with Circassia – with devastating geopolitical and commercial consequences for Britain. It is striking that the Circassians referenced the most deeply held concerns of parliamentarians and the press in the 1830s, reflecting concerns that had been bubbling for decades. Both Parliament and public projected the Eastern Question and the Great Game onto the Circassians, their struggle against Russia absorbed into a broader conflict with ramifications more extensive than just their freedom.

The manifesto penned by the Circassians demonstrates a keen awareness of this political reality. By stating in this petition that Russia’s advance would have disastrous consequences for Turkey and Persia, the Circassian chiefs provided British political figures with evidence that could support their cause. Instead of being ‘caught up’ in British affairs, the Circassians appear to have used their understanding of the political context to appeal to the British for aid.

The Circassians created further connections between the British and Circassian causes. Firstly, the letter referenced the destruction of the vessels of other states. Since no date is given for when this letter was written, it is difficult to ascertain if this is in reference to the affair of the Vixen. However, the writers appear well-aware of Russia’s machinations in the Black Sea, as well as the displeasure of the British regarding Russia’s behaviour in this important arena. Secondly, the writers reference another all-important consideration for Britons in the nineteenth century, one that was inextricably tied up with the Black Sea and the Circassian coast – commerce. The Circassians stated explicitly that due to Russia’s blockade, they were being deprived of the commerce that formed the cornerstone of a British liberal ideology. In this short passage, the centrality of commerce in the liberal mission is made clear to both the Circassians and the Britons reading the petition.

In the context of the nineteenth century, when tariff, and profit were words on every Briton’s lips, the influence and importance of trade in this period of British imperial thought cannot be underestimated. Liberals, Tories, and Whigs alike debated the value of free trade domestically and globally. While the role of free trade in imperial expansion in this period has been hotly debated, ever since the publication of Robinson and Gallagher’s influential ‘The Imperialism of Free Trade’, in the context of Circassia, free trade was both convenient and moral.⁶⁵ Convenient, for it provided pretence for British interference in the Black Sea and created an enemy of commerce in Russia. Moral, for Britons involved in the debate were able to argue that a lack of access to commercial networks could – and did – prevent civilisation.

Thus, the freedom of British commerce and its violation in the incident of the Vixen was of paramount concern. In sessions before the seizure, Viscount Sandon, a Conservative, ‘entreated Ministers not to shut their eyes to the great importance of the outlet of the Black Sea’.⁶⁶ Stratford Canning presented a petition from the commercial elements of Glasgow, arguing that Russia was imposing a ‘restrictive system of commerce, particularly prejudicial to the trade of Great Britain’.⁶⁷ Patrick M. Stewart argued that the commercial interests of Britain ‘were identified with those of other countries…. Persia and Circassia were interested too,’ and the ‘terms of the Treaty of Hoonkiar Skelessi were so injurious to England, so insulting to civilised Europe generally, and especially to the commercial interests of Europe’.⁶⁸ Stewart continued by stating that ‘at Trebizond we had a great and valuable trade… whilst the Circassian coast beyond it was sternly blockaded by Russia… we had no means of watching or resisting her encroachments.’ Thus, Circassia was made to be not only geopolitically valuable – but also commercially valuable.

The value of trade with Circassia, financially and ideologically, was also discussed. George Bell, the man who had funded the ill-fated Vixen mission, argued in a letter to the editor of The Times that on ‘the value of the commerce of the Black Sea but little is known in England, and all the efforts of the Russian Government are directed to the prevention of its development by British merchants’. His attention ‘was first directed to the question of the trade with the coast of Circassia’ due to requests from Turkish salt miners, as he and they were aware that ‘no one afforded a greater or better debouche or market’ for salt than Circassia.⁶⁹ In Parliament, Attwood asked ‘how is it that [Lord Palmerston] has allowed the Circassians, a gallant people, who alone brave the whole power of Russia, to be cut off from all intercourse with England? Why does he not enter into commercial treaties with the Circassian chiefs, who have an extent of 300 miles of coast?’⁷⁰

When discussing Circassia’s romantic struggle for independence, British commerce was of paramount concern, a way to both promote British interests, check Russian advance, and secure influence in Circassia. In these discussions, the multiple layers of a liberal imperialism are made clear, with commerce baked into its very heart.

The crucible of war

Though the Circassians’ war with Russia continued in the 1840s, the Circassian Question lost the popularity it had enjoyed in the previous decade. Following the First Anglo-Afghan War, there was a sense that the panic of the 1830s over Russia’s threat to India was overwrought. Russia itself was no longer of great concern.⁷¹ This sentiment was nurtured under Lord Aberdeen, now Foreign Secretary. Instead, this period was characterised by a divided liberal policy at home and abroad, that saw Cobdenism, which promoted non-intervention in Russia and the Ottoman Empire, gaining popularity.⁷²

However, this would change in 1848, when revolution in France once again threw the balance of power into question. Lord Palmerston and his coalition emerged victorious, as a wave of autocracy, championed by Russia and Austria, spread across Europe.⁷³ This solidified the feeling that Britain was united, poised ‘to defend civilisation and progress against despotism’.⁷⁴ When Lord Aberdeen’s Peelite-Whig government warily entered the Crimean War in 1853, the Circassians were given another opportunity to leverage British liberalism and geopolitics for survival.

Despite numerous diplomatic manoeuvres between 1850 and 1853, religious tensions that had been simmering between Russia and Turkey reached a boiling point, and by March 1854, the Anglo-French coalition declared war on Russia.⁷⁵ While the Crimean War was sparked by a dispute over the religious rights of Orthodox Christians and Catholics, its roots were far deeper.⁷⁶ A culmination of years of suspicion and disagreement by the Great Powers of Europe over the Eastern Question, commerce, and religion, the war seemed almost inevitable. In Britain, it took on an ideological dimension that was ‘decisive not only with regard to power relationships, but with regard to the great contemporary issues of liberalism and nationalism’.⁷⁷ Lord Palmerston wrote to Lord Clarendon, his replacement as Foreign Secretary, in March 1854, shifting the war’s objectives from the ‘defence of Constantinople or even the preservation of the Ottoman empire’. Instead, Lord Palmerston posited that ‘Poland could be re-established’ and ‘Circassia made independent’.⁷⁸

Interest in Circassia was thus reignited. Prior to the official declaration of war in March 1854, some parliamentarians were already raising concerns over Circassia. Thomas Alcock asked why there were no British fleets in the Black Sea, arguing that ‘we should put an end to the possibility of reinforcements being conveyed to the Russian troops in Georgia’ and tear down the fortresses which ‘prevented the Turks co-operating with the Circassians’.⁷⁹ Alcock also declared that ‘it was not an unreasonable expectation that, if that indomitable people were properly assisted, they would soon take advantage of their opportunity’ and rise up against Russia.⁸⁰

Austen Layard was similarly enthusiastic about the Circassians in his February speech, declaring that ‘until Circassia is declared free to [British] trade’ no peace can be made with Russia.⁸¹ Lord Claud Hamilton described it as a ‘shame and disgrace to this country’ that ‘we should, for the first time, enter the Black Sea for the purpose of assisting the Sultan, instead of having, long ago, entered it on behalf of the brave Circassians’.

After the declaration of war on 28 March 1854, Lord Clarendon announced the goals of the war, arguing that it ‘is not merely the protection of Turkey […] that is concerned in the Eastern question, as it is commonly called, but it is the battle of civilisation against barbarism, for the maintenance of the independence of Europe’.⁸² If Russia seized Constantinople, Lord Clarendon declared that Russia would be able to then occupy the Black Sea, as well as Circassia. As a result, he said ‘It would not be too much to anticipate that more than one Western Power would have to undergo the fate of Poland.’⁸³ Urquhart once again took up his pen, publishing articles widely thanks to his reputation as a supposed expert on Turkish affairs.⁸⁴

Diplomacy on the Black Sea

With the stage set, British machinations in Circassia proper began. In 1854, the Foreign Office sent their first representative to Circassia, Colonel John Augustus Lloyd, an engineer who had previously spent time in Bolivia.⁸⁵ Lloyd volunteered himself, for unknown reasons, to go on ‘a friendly mission to the influential chiefs in the security of the Black Sea, to assure them of Her Majesty’s sympathy,’ and to ‘strengthen their confidence’.⁸⁶ Lloyd spent 1854 gathering information and sending numerous letters to both Lord Clarendon and Stratford, writing on the military, strategic, and commercial value of the Circassians.

In May and June 1854, Lloyd submitted to General Lord Raglan, commander of the British troops in the Crimea, an account of how the Circassians would behave as allies in the war – though Lloyd himself had never set foot in the territory.⁸⁷ Lloyd distinguished the Circassians as the party more able to cooperate with British forces, describing them as a ‘generous and warlike people’ that had maintained ‘such deadly hostility against the Russians’. Lloyd suggested that, since the Black Sea was now free from Russian control, the Circassians, who ‘still remain without arms and have not received any sufficient encouragement from England’, should be drawn into the war.

In another note to Lord Raglan, Lloyd expressed that he had ‘now gained some insight into the character of these people’ and he firmly believed ‘that if Her Majesty’s government was so inclined, a very large and efficient force might be organised from amongst the independent tribes of the Caucasus’.⁸⁸ While Lloyd’s letter was conjecture, Lord Raglan met with Circassian representatives in July, before then agreeing to send Lloyd and a French agent to Circassia to, as Lloyd reported, appear ‘in candid unanimity for the protection of the people of Circassia’.⁸⁹

From the opening days and months of the Crimean War, the Circassians were brought into the military orbit of both the British and the French. The Circassians themselves appeared keen to avail themselves of British support. In August, Lloyd went to visit a group of Circassian chiefs who were staying in Constantinople, unable to return to Circassia due to illness. In these discussions, Lloyd notes that ‘the interpretations had to pass through four gradations’, communication between the Circassians and their British visitors once again hampered by a language barrier.⁹⁰ Lloyd expressed to the chiefs ‘what [he] considered the sentiments of Her Majesty’s government towards them’. This included taking ‘greatest interest in their advancement and welfare’, since ‘they had by Russian aggression been excluded from advancement in civilisation, commerce, and the industrial arts.’ While Lloyd acknowledged their ‘prowess in arms’, he expressed that, ‘The paramount desire of Her Majesty’s government was that, when their land was once more free the arts of peace and industry should be taught them and if they wished people should be sent amongst them who could instruct them how to be a great and powerful nation.’ In response, a sickly old chief expressed how though ‘their children had been destroyed, their best blood wasted’ and though ‘they were all so cut and wounded that little was left in them’, he proclaimed ‘that little was still at the service of England’.⁹¹

Lloyd was moved by this, writing that he ‘would have done anything… at that moment for these poor gallant men, shackled, decimated, neglected, borne down by disease and death’. This exchange is revealing; the liberal ideal of commerce and industry promoting civilisation and nationhood is expressed in the clearest possible terms, with England as the instructor of civilisation and Circassia the pupil. The Circassian chief’s response demonstrates diplomatic skill. In acquiescing to British romantic imagery (‘on horseback’, ‘in their mountains’) and expressing devotion to England, the chief was able to wrench from an emotional Lloyd promises for assistance.

A new envoy: a critical eye?

Upon Lloyd’s death in October 1854, John Augustus Longworth, the author of A Year Among the Circassians, a correspondent for The Times, and Urquhart’s friend, was sent as a replacement. Prior to his arrival in Constantinople in 1855, Longworth penned a ‘Memorandum relative to the military resources, political position and relations of Circassia’. This memorandum provides a first break – though not completely – in the romantic façade that had surrounded the Circassians. Basing his claims on his previous visit to Circassia, Longworth strongly asserted that ‘with respect to the military power and resources of the Circassians, [he] [believed] them to be much overrated and the nature of them even not generally understood’. Acquiescing that ‘it is true they form an armed population individually brave and expert in the use of their weapons’, they were still ‘totally destitute of military organisation, more so, [he] [believed], than any other uncivilised tribes in existence’.⁹² Longworth went on to say that the Circassians were not used to offensive warfare, though he claimed they were formidable in defensive warfare, although he also claimed that it was largely due to the terrain itself rather than the Circassians’ ability to support a real army.

Longworth also asserted that the Circassians had no real government, nor any real representatives, cautioning against taking the titles of the various Circassian nobles at face value. Ultimately, Longworth concluded, ‘It would not be safe to reckon upon the Circassians as efficient auxiliaries in warlike operations on the shores of the Black Sea.’ Instead, Longworth foresaw a limited collaboration with the Circassians.⁹³ He argued that ‘under the protection of the British flag’ the Circassians could continue to ‘hold their own’ in ‘their mountains’, and Britain’s ‘commercial intercourse with them’ would have a ‘moral effect’ that would be highly beneficial to them.⁹⁴

Longworth’s main goal in Circassia was commercial, moral, and national reform, embodied in the eradication of Circassia’s slave trade. Longworth argued the trade could be eradicated most efficaciously by ‘the encouragement of a more legitimate and wholesome kind of commerce on the coast itself’ instead of the trade that had ‘formed the odious staple of the Caucasus’. The morality of British commerce was well-established, evoked consistently in Longworth’s memorandum as a cornerstone to his policy in Circassia. Though he envisaged some military cooperation from the Circassians, their moral reformation was more important, a reformation that could be achieved with the strong arm of British commerce. Stratford, now styled Viscount Stratford de Redcliffe following his elevation to the peerage in 1852, also emphasised the importance of commerce in the question of Circassia, asking ‘by what means can its commerce be fostered and extended?’ alongside questions of internal peace and the establishment of good government.⁹⁵

Despite Longworth’s criticisms of the Circassians, describing them for the first time as similar to other ‘uncivilised tribes’, the Foreign Office instructed him in April 1855 to gather ‘des informations précises sur l’état actuel des choses en Circassie’ and that ‘le but apparent de votre visite serait de savoir quelle quantité de cavalerie les tribus circassiennes pourraient mettre à la disposition du gouvernement anglais, en mettant en avant les difficultés que l’on éprouve à envoyer des chevaux hors de l’Angleterre et la confiance qu’inspire au gouvernement anglais les cavaliers du pays.’⁹⁶ (Gather precise information on the actual state of things in Circassia. The goal of your visit will be to find out what quantity of cavalry the Circassian tribes can provide to the English government, given the difficulty of sending horses out of England and the confidence that the cavalry of the country inspire in the English; my translation.) Largely participating in small Turkish operations along the coast, the Circassians were moderately involved in the prosecution of the war, though France strongly resisted British suggestions of a true operation on the Black Sea, particularly after the struggle for the Crimean port of Sevastopol, which fell in 1855, and the subsequent fall of Kars, a Turkish fortress on the Black Sea, also in 1855.⁹⁷ Additionally, Ottoman agents continually frustrated Longworth in his activities on the coast.⁹⁸

In 1856, Longworth stated that it was ‘time that the Circassians who have been so long virtually and de facto independent should assume the duties and liabilities of a free government’. He asserted that ‘its elements [he] [believes], exist, but they have never been organised’, and when compelled to abandon slavery, ‘they will feel the necessity of developing their material resources.’⁹⁹ Stratford agreed with Longworth’s assertion, writing in multiple letters in 1855 and 1856, that Circassia’s independence was to be maintained.¹⁰⁰ In August 1855, Stratford firmly declared that ‘Circassia and all its tribes are free, on the expulsion of the Russians from their country, and that neither the Porte’s authority, nor any other foreign authority ought in any way to interfere with them or their independence.’¹⁰¹

The pursuit of peace

However, in the closing days of the war, a shift took place. The Treaty of Paris (1856) contained no explicit references to the Circassians, though the Black Sea was supposed to remain free for commerce. When discussions over suing for peace first emerged in Parliament in 1855, the Circassians were mentioned as key participants in the war.¹⁰² In 1856, Circassia continued to be mentioned as a crucial part of any peace treaty, as Russia could not be stopped without the establishment of a Circassian state.¹⁰³ For some, abandoning Circassia was the same as abandoning Poland.¹⁰⁴

Trade was an important consideration during the war and the Treaty of Paris reflected a general desire to trade in the profitable Black Sea.¹⁰⁵ In March 1856, Lord Wodehouse, Lord Clarendon’s junior minister, and Prince Alexander Gorchakov, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, engaged in discussions over Circassian sovereignty and the right to trade.¹⁰⁶ While Lord Wodehouse had continually asserted Circassia’s independence and British trading rights, in 1857 the Foreign Office agreed to follow Russian regulations with respect to trade in the region, effectively acquiescing to Russian sovereignty. France, especially anxious to bring an end to the war, would no longer support Britain in its prosecution.¹⁰⁷ Lord Wodehouse, and the government he represented, was in no position to challenge Russia’s conquest of the Caucasus and Central Asia in the closing days of the Crimean War.¹⁰⁸

The Circassians appeared to see the writing on the wall, writing two new petitions in 1857. In a petition addressed directly to the Queen of England in 1857, this one signed with thirty-seven seals, the Circassians once again described their long-lasting conflict with Russia, their nationhood, and their need for help. The Circassians begged the Queen of England ‘to protect [them] from the perfidy of the Russians, for [they] know that [she] is the ally of the Musselmans and their auxiliary against their enemies, and [they], too, are a nation for [her] to confirm by [her] power and aid like other nations’.¹⁰⁹

The writers argue that despite the ‘eleventh and twelfth articles of the treaty concluded through the alliance of the great powers’, where ‘it was stipulated that the Black Sea should be open’, the ‘Russians every now and then make war and come to attack [the Circassians]’ and ‘when ships come to [their] shores for commercial purposes, interfere with and prevent them, or burn them.’¹¹⁰ They promised that, once the issue of the Russians was resolved, ‘no obstacle will then be placed in the way of commerce.’ For a people still locked in a war with Russia, a commercial relationship with Britain and other European powers was an opportunity for communication and continued support.

However, in the years following the Crimean War, the question of Circassia diminished. A new perspective emerged that shattered the romantic fantasy and ended the liberal mission in Circassia. Their exclusion from the Treaty of Paris accompanied their exclusion from the public sphere. In 1858, Lord Palmerston responded to a request for aid from some Circassian chiefs, arguing that the ‘Circassians did not deem it expedient to co-operate with the English and French forces in that war’, and thus were ‘not entitled to claim any assistance from those two Powers as having been their auxiliaries’.¹¹¹

The collapse of the Circassian myth occurred in The Times as well. In a letter to the editor, while the Circassians were no doubt ‘brave, generous, and endowed with a high physical and mental organisation’, so were ‘the African Caffres, the Asiatic Kurds, and the Bedouin Arabs’. The author concluded that ‘all are noble specimens of the barbarian, and nothing more,’ and thus their consideration in the peace of Paris was unnecessary. All that was necessary, argued the author, was social development ‘by means of commercial intercourse with Western Europe’.¹¹² Another article noted that ‘certain races periodically have their turn of public interest and laudation’, and when Russia was Britain’s enemy, ‘the mention of Circassia has seldom failed to produce a sympathising cheer even from cultivated audiences.’ Now, the author remarked, ‘the French or German romancist might easily depict the free inhabitants of the Orange River pursued by […] British aggression, and a similar hallucination has tended to make the Circassian a hero.’ For, after all, ‘in what the Circassian differs morally from the Caffre it is not easy to see.’ In a moment of self-reflection, the Circassian fantasy is laid bare. The author concludes that the Circassians ‘are a race by no means destitute of natural abilities’, who will be civilised by Russia, a ‘civilising Power’ that may in fact have been more suited to dealing with the Circassians in the first place.¹¹³

In the span of only three years and an unpopular war, the fantastical image of Circassia as a liberal project was dashed with cutting clarity. The reasons for this shift appear to be twofold. Firstly, the Crimean War, while technically a victory, was a disaster that tempered animosity towards Russia.¹¹⁴ In this lull in Russophobia, the Circassians were no longer geopolitically relevant, nor an effective ‘stick’ with which to beat the Russian bear. Secondly, and more ideologically, on 11 May 1857, rebellion broke out in India. In the wake of what contemporaries regarded as an ‘event of almost incomprehensible magnitude and historical importance’, when the subjects of a ‘benevolent’ and ‘‘civilising’ power violently revolted against it, belief in liberal imperialism appeared to falter.¹¹⁵ Empire after the rebellion lacked the ‘benevolent’ edge of its past, the trauma of rebellion fundamentally altering the discourse of imperialism. Where India was once the ‘key site for the realisation of the British ideals of progress, improvement, and civilisation’, it was now proof that this civilisation and progress would not always triumph.¹¹⁶ The hardening of attitudes to Circassia after 1857 reflects this ideological turn.

In 1862, the Circassians submitted an appeal to the Parliament in England, attempting to leverage British liberal ideals once again. Stating that while they had been ‘asking to impose and to impress Civilisation into Circassia’, an independent state, constant warfare has caused them to remain ‘behind the rest of mankind in commerce and civilisation’. The Circassians begged for the government’s assistance to ‘enlighten [them] of the science of chemistry in producing the metals and the commodities’, to encourage English merchants to trade with them, and to send ‘consuls to [them] to promote civilisation and facilitate commerce’.¹¹⁷ Of course, this petition resulted in no action being taken, and the visit of some Circassian chiefs to England in 1863 only inspired superficial interest.¹¹⁸ Urquhart, in his capacity as a private citizen, attempted to drum up further support for the Circassians, though his efforts failed to secure any real aid or official political interest.¹¹⁹ By May 1864, the Circassian fight had ended.

Conclusion

In the span of nearly twenty-five years, the Circassians of the Caucasus went from heroes to just another group of ‘barbarians’. While the Circassians were engaged in a life-or-death struggle against Russia, the British saw a mythic struggle that played into their own perceptions of the world. As the Eastern Question and the Great Game continued to grow in importance, the geopolitical and ideological value, both perceived and real, of Circassia came to preoccupy those who sought to both halt Russian expansion and promote British liberalism in the 1830s and 1850s.

The conflict between the Circassians and the Russians has clear roots. The conquest of the Caucasus fulfilled Russia’s goal of both expanding its empire territorially and ideologically as it civilised and converted the Muslim peoples on its peripheries.¹²⁰ The relationship between the Ottoman Empire and the Circassians can also be easily understood in religious terms, Islam forming a common banner between the two. The relationship between Circassia and Britain, however, is more complex. For some in Britain, Circassia appeared to fulfil the liberal dream of the early nineteenth century. It was geopolitically relevant, thanks to its position on the Black Sea and its (tenuous) proximity to India, as well as its conflict with Russia. Concerns over Russia in this period were very real, and the existing conflict between Russia and Circassia was almost too convenient for a Russophobic British public. The Eastern Question and the Great Game drew the Circassians further into the British orbit.

Moreover, the periods in which interest in Circassia peaked were moments in the political scene, where an outwards-facing liberal ideology dominated. During the various events which brought the Circassians further into the British orbit, such as the ill-fated mission of the Vixen and the Crimean War, the principles of a nineteenth-century liberalism were consistently evoked: morality, freedom from autocracy, and trade. For Britons invested in the Circassian cause, Circassia was a pseudo-nation on the verge of civilisation – a people who could be saved by the strong arm of a British liberal ideology. This aligns them closely with other liberal causes célèbres, such as the Poles and the Tyrolese. A striking similarity can be seen in the Kurds, who were used as an anti-Russian and pro-Ottoman tool throughout the nineteenth century. For British travellers in the period, the Kurds were another ‘martial race’, much like the Scottish Highlanders – and the Circassians.¹²¹ However, the Kurds actively rebelled against Ottoman rule, unlike the Circassians, which did not align well with Britain’s policy of shoring up the Ottoman Empire.

It was in this context – liberal and imperial, contentious, and contemptuous, that the Circassians were made to matter. However, despite being drawn into a British liberal ideology, the Circassians were not just blank-faced observers, unwittingly trapped in a broader imperial game. Instead, throughout these various power-plays and ideological currents, the Circassians sought to maintain control over their own destiny, fashioning a diplomacy out of the British fantasy to which they were subjected. Through this restorative reading of the different letters and petitions penned or signed by Circassian representatives, the Circassians clearly played into and manipulated the liberal ideals of the nineteenth century. When one of their supporters, Lord Dudley Stuart, quoted at length from a petition they had penned in the House, the role of Circassians themselves in keeping the British on side is made clear. While the liberal fantasy of the Circassians was eventually shattered, that does not negate the keen awareness they demonstrated of what was important to the British establishment.

However, in the aftermath of the Crimean War, there was a dramatic shift in attitude towards the Circassians. From a great interest in the fantastical heroes of the mountains to almost callous disinterest, the resolution of the Circassian Question reveals Britain’s new imperial ethos. In the wake of the Indian Rebellion of 1857, the idealism of liberal imperialism was challenged and there was no appetite for romantic fantasy. From liberalism’s period of ascendancy in the early nineteenth century, during which Circassia was considered in the terms of free trade and civilisation, to the post-rebellion hardening of imperial attitudes, the Circassians were part of the fluctuating currents of the nineteenth century. The cost of the war between Russia and Britain was also too great, tempering the anti-Russian rhetoric in Britain that had made the Circassians so perfect a tool.

Ultimately, in 1864, the Circassians lost their battle with Russia, resulting in the forced migration or murder of approximately eighty per cent of the population.¹²² Now redistributed throughout Ottoman territories, the Circassians became entangled in Ottoman affairs, reappearing on the British political scene and press as violent, anti-Christian Ottoman soldiers.¹²³ In the Treaty of Berlin (1878), the Circassians (and the Kurds) were now the aggressors from whom the Armenians, an oppressed Christian minority, needed to be defended.¹²⁴ In the closing days of the Ottoman Empire, the Circassians stood firmly behind Mustafa Kemal.¹²⁵

While British newspapers and politicians once casually expressed interest in the Circassians and used them as liberal touchpoints, the Circassians were caught up in a fight for survival. When the gilded image of the Circassians tarnished and the superficiality of Britain’s interest in their struggle was revealed, it was the Circassians who lost. While the Circassians sought to use every tool at their disposal in trying to stave off the Russian onslaught, the tool of Britain’s liberal goodwill turned out to be rather blunt.

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank Dr Alexander Morrison, my supervisor, for his feedback and encouragement. I also extend my gratitude to Dr Richard Connors for his guidance.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the authors.

Additional information

Funding

This work was supported by the Ertegun Graduate Scholarship Programme in the Humanities at the University of Oxford.

Notes

1 S. Layton, Russian Literature and Empire: Conquest of the Caucasus from Pushkin to Tolstoy (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994).

2 D. Urquhart, The Secret of Russia in the Caspian & Euxine: The Circassian War as Affecting the Insurrection in Poland (London: Robert Hardwicke, 1863), p.11. C. King, ‘Imagining Circassia: David Urquhart and the Making of North Caucasus Nationalism’, The Russian Review, Vol.2, No.66 (2007), p.243.

3 C. King, Ghost of Freedom: A History of the Caucasus (New York: Oxford University Press, 2008), p.4.

4 T.M. Barrett, ‘Lines of Uncertainty: The Frontiers of the North Caucasus’, Slavic Review, Vol.3, No.43 (1995), p.578. M. Khodarkovsky, Bitter Choices: Loyalty and Betrayal in the Russian Conquest of the North Caucasus (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2011), pp.8, 17. King, Ghost of Freedom, p.21. A. Bitis, Russia and the Eastern Question: Army, Government and Society, 1815-1833 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), p.24. M. Gammer, Muslim Resistance to the Tsar: Shamil and the Conquest of Chechnia and Daghestan (London: Routledge, 1994), p.1.

5 M. Khodarkovsky, ‘Of Christianity, Enlightenment, and Colonialism: Russia in the North Caucasus, 1550-1800’, Journal of Modern History, Vol.2, No.71 (1999), pp.395, 398.

6 M. Polinsky, Oxford Handbook of the Languages of the Caucasus (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2021), p.1. A. Jersild, Orientalism and Empire: North Caucasus Mountain Peoples and the Georgian Frontier, 1845-1917 (Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press, 2002), p.4.

7 Gammer, Muslim Resistance to the Tsar, p.29.

8 A. Morrison, The Russian Conquest of Central Asia: A Study in Imperial Expansion, 1814-1914 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2021), p.55.

9 Morrison, The Russian Conquest of Central Asia, p.56.

10 D. Gillard, The Struggle for Asia, 1828-1914 (London: Methuen, 1977), pp.27-28. Gillard notes that while there were smatterings of unease regarding Russian expansion from the turn of the century, the events of the 1820s and early 1830s (Russia’s successful moves against Persia and Turkey) made Russia a generally accepted threat to India in the 1830s and beyond. G. J. Alder, ‘India and the Crimean War’, Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History, Vol.2, No.1 (1973), pp.15–16. Morrison, The Russian Conquest of Central Asia, p.69.

11 J. Parry, The Rise and Fall of Liberal Government in Victorian Britain (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1993).

12 W.A. Hay, The Whig Revival, 1808-1830 (London: Palgrave Macmillan, 2004), p.177. B. Hilton, A Mad, Bad, and Dangerous People?: England, 1783-1846 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2008) p.501.

13 D. Bell, Reordering the World: Essays on Liberalism and Empire (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2016), p.5. Bell’s essay, ‘What is Liberalism?’ is helpful here.

14 Bell, Reordering the World, p.70.

15 Bell, Reordering the World, p.5.

16 Hilton, A Mad, Bad, and Dangerous People?, pp.500–12. T.A. Jenkins, The Liberal Ascendancy, 1830-1886 (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1994), pp.ix, 45. Jenkins offers an analysis of the various liberal combinations, and on which issues each political alliance differed.

17 J. Parry, The Politics of Patriotism: English liberalism, national identity, and Europe, 1830-1886 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006), pp.48, 147. Hilton, A Mad, Bad, and Dangerous People, p.506.

18 Bell, Reordering the World, p.6.

19 J. Pitts, A Turn to Empire: The Rise of Imperial Liberalism in Britain and France (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2015), pp.128, 130–32. U.S. Mehta, Liberalism and Empire: A Study in Nineteenth-Century British Liberal Thought (Chicago: University of Chicago Press,1999), p.48.

20 Mehta, Liberalism and Empire, p.82.

21 Bell, Reordering the World, p.240–42.

22 J. Parry, Promised Lands: The British and the Ottoman Middle East (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2022), pp.111–16. This is, of course, highly debated. Parry does make a compelling point that while there may not have been a ‘Liberal Party’, there was a general sense of effective ‘liberal spirit’ after the ascension of the Whigs.

23 Hilton, A Mad, Bad, and Dangerous People?, p.559.

24 D. Brown, Palmerston: A Biography (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2010), p.190 and Palmerston and the politics of foreign policy, 1846-55 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2002), pp.11–12.

25 Brown, Palmerston, p.180. Gillard, The Struggle for Asia, p.38.

26 M. H. Jenks, ‘The Activities and Influence of David Urquhart 1833-1856, With a Special Reference to the Affairs of the Near East’ (PhD Thesis, University of London, 1964), pp.51–52.

27 Parry, The Politics of Patriotism, pp.130, 145.

28 19 Feb., Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.31, col.614–640.

29 19 Feb. 1836, Parl. Deb., 3rd Ser., Vol.31, col.646–652. M.E. Chamberlain, ‘Pax Britannica’?: British Foreign Policy, 1789-1914 (London: Routledge, 2003), p.106.

30 ‘Lord Ponsonby to Lord Palmerston’, 12 Oct. 1834, The National Archives (TNA), FO 78/239. J. Ponsonby, ‘Sept. 3, 1834’, Reminiscences of William IV., Correspondence between Lord Ponsonby and Mr. Urquhart, 1833 to 1836 (London: Diplomatic Review Office, 1889), p.38.

31 K. Bourne, The Foreign Policy of Victorian England, 1830-1902 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1970), p.9. O. Anderson, A Liberal State at War: English Politics and Economics During the Crimean War (London: Macmillan, 1967), p.71.

32 ‘Private Correspondence’, The Times, 16 September 1836, p.3.

33 ‘Russia in Reference to Circassia, Persia, and India’, The Times, 18 October 1838, p.4.

34 Morrison, The Russian Conquest of Central Asia, p.11. L.J. Frary and M. Kozelsky, Russian-Ottoman Borderlands: The Eastern Question Reconsidered (Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 2014), pp.4, 5. The decline of the Ottoman Empire raised questions of what would happen to its vast territories. This ‘Eastern Question’ narrative is not without its flaws. Some historians argue it marginalizes those residing in the Ottoman lands under contention, as well as Russian perspectives and motivations.

35 Parry, Promised Lands, p.11.

36 19 Feb. 1836, Parl. Deb., 3rd Ser., Vol.31, col.614–640.7.

37 Parry, The Politics of Patriotism, p.149.

38 Parry, Promised Lands, p.116.

39 Khodarkovsky, Bitter Choices, p.98. W. Richmond, The Northwest Caucasus: Past, Present, Future (New York: Routledge, 2008), p.51. C. King, ‘Imagining Circassia’, p.252.

40 King, ‘Imagining Circassia’, p.246. C. Webster, ‘Urquhart, Ponsonby, and Palmerston’, The English Historical Review, Vol.62, No.244 (1947), p.327. King, ‘Imagining Circassia’, pp.239, 246.

41 ‘Advertising’, The Times, 12 June 1837, p.7. ‘Advertising’, The Times, 6 October 1837, p.8. ‘Circassia’, The Times, 6 October 1840, p.7.

42 Oxford, Balliol College Archives and Manuscripts, Papers of David Urquhart, DU 3.5.3, ‘Circassia’.

43 C. King, ‘Imagining Circassia’, pp.254–55.

44 DU 3.5.3, ‘Circassia’.

45 Bell, Reordering the World, pp.259, 281.

46 DU 3.5.3, ‘Circassia’.

47 Brown, Palmerston, p.177.

48 G.H. Bolsover, ‘David Urquhart and the Eastern Question, 1833-37: A Study in Publicity and Diplomacy’, The Journal of Modern History, Vol.8, No.4 (1936), p.466.

49 20 Apr., 1836, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.32, col.1306–1309; 17 Mar., 1837, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.37, col.637,644,650. 14 Jul., 1837, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.38, col.1910–1912. 25 Mar., 1839, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol. 46, col.1186-1198. 6 Aug., 1839, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.49, col.1396.

50 17 Mar., 1837, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.37, col. 621–628.

51 ‘Private Correspondence,’ The Times, 27 January 1837, p.5.

52 The Treaty of Adrianople (1829) ended the Russo-Turkish War.

53 25 Mar., 1839, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.46, col.1186–1198.

54 ‘Private Correspondence,’ The Times, 6 December 1836, p. 3.

55 14 Jul., 1837, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.38, col.1910–1912.

56 14 Jul., 1837, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.38, col.1910–1912.

57 ‘Private Correspondence’, The Times, 30 December 1836, p.5.

58 ‘Express from Paris’, The Times, 13 February 1837, p.6.

59 ‘Private Correspondence’, The Times, 17 April 1837, p.3.

60 ‘War in Circassia, and Projects of Russia in the East’, The Times, 10 July 1837, p.7.

61 Urquhart, ‘British Diplomacy illustrated in the Affair of the “Vixen”‘, p.43.

62 17 Mar., 1837, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.37, col.647–655. I cannot locate Lord Dudley Stuart’s manifesto. However, the existence of similar letters from the Circassians lends credence to this one.

63 17 Mar., 1837, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.37, col.649–651.

64 17 Mar., 1837, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.37, col.649–651.

65 J. Gallagher and R. Robinson, ‘The Imperialism of Free Trade’, The Economic History Review, Vol.6, No.1 (1953) and Oliver MacDonagh’s response in O. MacDonagh, ‘The Anti-Imperialism of Free Trade’, The Economic History Review, Vol.3, No.14 (1962). MacDonagh argues that many free trade proponents were staunch anti-imperialists.

66 19 Feb. 1836, Parl. Deb., 3rd Ser., Vol.31, col.660.

67 20 Apr. 1836, Parl. Deb., 3rd Ser., Vol.32, col.1259.-.

68 20 Apr. 1836, Parl. Deb., 3rd Ser., Vol.32, col.1260–1279.

69 ‘Facts Relative to the Russian Capture of the Vixen: To the Editor of the Times’, The Times, 3 February 1837, p.6.

70 6 Aug. 1839, Parl. Deb., 3rd Ser., Vol.49, col.1396–1397.

71 Alder, ‘India and the Crimean War,’ pp.15–16.

72 Parry, The Politics of Patriotism, p.189.

73 Parry, The Rise and Fall of Liberal Government, p.167.

74 Parry, The Politics of Patriotism, p.201.

75 Chamberlain, ‘Pax Britannica’?: British Foreign Policy, pp.104–05.

76 W. Baumgart, The Crimean War: 1853-1856 (London: Bloomsbury Academic, 1999), p.12.

77 Anderson, A Liberal State at War, p.1.

78 Chamberlain, ‘Pax Britannica’?: British Foreign Policy, pp.105–06.

79 24 Feb. 1854, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.130, col.1272–1274.

80 24 Feb. 1854, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.130, col.1272–1274.

81 17 Feb. 1854, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.130, col.831–860.

82 31 Mar. 1854, Parl. Deb. l, 3^rd Ser., Vol.132, col.140–153.

83 31 Mar. 1854, Parl. Deb. l, 3^rd Ser., Vol.132, col.140–153.

84 Jenks, ‘The Activities and Influence of David Urquhart 1833-1856’, p.300.

85 ‘J.A. Lloyd to the Earl of Clarendon, Manchester’, 26 April 1854, TNA, FO 195/443. ‘Minutes of the Proceedings of the Institution of Civil Engineers, Volume 14, 1854-1855’, pp.162–63.

86 26 April 1854, TNA, FO 195/443. ‘Circassia’, 6 May 1854, TNA, FO 195/443.

87 ‘Notes on the Caucasian Independent States for Submission to General Lord Raglan’, 29 June 1854, TNA, FO 195/443.

88 ‘J.A. Lloyd to Lord Raglan’, 22 August 1854, TNA, FO 195/443.

89 ‘J.A. Lloyd to the Earl of Clarendon’, 29 July 1854, TNA, FO 195/443. ‘J.A. Lloyd to the Earl of Clarendon’, 5 August 1854, TNA, FO 195/443.

90 ‘Buyukdery from J.A. Lloyd’, 16 August 1854, TNA, FO 195/443.

91 ‘Buyukdery from J.A. Lloyd’, 16 August 1854, TNA, FO 195/443.

92 ‘Memorandum Relative to the Military Resources, Political Position and Relations of Circassia’, 20 Sept. 1854, TNA, FO 195/443.

93 ‘J.A. Longworth to Viscount Stratford de Redcliffe’, 3 Sept. 1855, TNA, FO 97/350.

94 ‘Memorandum Relative to the Military Resources, Political Position and Relations of Circassia’, 20 Sept. 1854, TNA, FO 195/443.

95 ‘Viscount Stratford de Redcliffe to the Earl of Clarendon’, 24 April 1856, TNA, FO 97/350.

96 ‘Foreign Office à M. J.A. Longworth’, April 1855, TNA, FO 195/443.

97 Gillard, The Struggle for Asia, p. 94.

98 N. Luxenburg, ‘England and the Caucasus during the Crimean War’, Jahrbücher für Geschichte Osteuropas, Neue Folge, 16, no. 4 (1968), p.503. Alder, ‘India and the Crimean War’, p.29.

99 ‘J.A. Longworth to Viscount Stratford’, 27 Jan. 1856, TNA, FO 195/443.

100 ‘Buyukdery from J.A. Lloyd’, 16 August 1854, TNA, FO 195/443.

101 ‘Viscount Stratford to M. Pesani,’ 6 Aug. 1855, TNA, FO 97/350. ‘Mémorandum de Viscomte Stratford’, 1855, TNA, FO 97/350.

102 4 Jun. 1855, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.138, col.1318–1396.

103 5 May, 1856, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.141, col.2037–2114.

104 6 May, 1856, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.142, col.78–81,121–122.

105 P. Brock, ‘The Fall of Circassia: A Study in Private Diplomacy’, The English Historical Review, Vol.71, No.280 (1956), p.411.

106 ‘Lord Wodehouse to the Earl of Clarendon’, 14 Dec. 1856, TNA, FO 97/350.

107 Alder, ‘India and the Crimean War’, p.30.

108 Gillard, The Struggle for Asia, pp.94–95.

109 ‘Translation of a Petition from the Chiefs of Circassia to Her Majesty the Queen of England’, 22 Oct. 1857, TNA, FO 78/1336.

110 ‘Translation of a Document written in Turkish’, 22 Oct. 1857, TNA, FO 65/654.

111 19 Feb. 1858, Parl. Deb., 3^rd Ser., Vol.148, col.1736–1739.

112 ‘The Circassians and the Peace’, The Times, 10 May 1856, p.12.

113 ‘London’, The Times, 12 May 1856, p.8.

114 Anderson, The Liberal State at War, p.280.

115 C. Herbert, War of No Pity: The Indian Mutiny and Victorian Trauma (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2007), p.3. T. R. Metcalf, Aftermath of Revolt: India 1857-1870 (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1964), p.viii.

116 Herbert, War of No Pity, p.29.

117 Oxford, Balliol College Archives and Manuscripts, Papers of David Urquhart, Box 15, IJ9(3), ‘Appeal to the Parliament of England (1862)’.

118 The Secret of Russia in the Caspian & Euxine: The Circassian War as Affecting the Insurrection in Poland, p.10–13.

119 See P. Brock, ‘The Fall of Circassia’, for a full account of Urquhart’s actions in the 1860s.

120 Morrison, The Russian Conquest of Central Asia, p.56.

121 S. B. Eskander, ‘Britain’s Policy Towards the Kurdish Question, 1915-1923 (PhD Thesis, London School of Economics and Politcal Science, 1999), pp.24–27.

122 V. Hamed-Troyansky, ‘Circassian Refugees and the Making of Amman, 1878-1914’, International Journal of Middle East Studies, 4/49 (2017), p.607. The Circassians who were not killed were resettled by the Ottomans. The Circassian diaspora now numbers some five million individuals, spread largely across the Middle East and Russia.

123 S. H. Astourian, ‘The Silence of the Land: Agrarian Relations, Ethnicity, and Power’, in R.G. Suny, F. Müge Goçek, and N. M. Naimark (eds), A Question of Genocide: Armenians and Turks at the End of the Ottoman Empire (New York: Oxford University Press, 2011), pp.60, 72.

124 M.A. Reynolds, Shattering Empires: The Clash and Collapse of the Ottoman and Russian Empires, 1908-1918 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011), p.16.

125 Reynolds, Shattering Empires, p.256.