Political outsiders as America and Russia may at one time have been, trade soon propelled them to the continental fore. Something else that concurrently caused the nations to find common cause were their respective rivalries with Britain. By the second half of the nineteenth century, New York, Boston, and Philadelphia had developed into major trading centres — and the lucrative maritime trade triangle of North America, the Caribbean, and Europe had also burgeoned by then. To sustain and expand this growth, ships were required in large numbers. Enormous quantities of raw materials had to feed the shipyards: iron for anchors and chains, linen for sailcloth, hemp for ropes, wood for hulls and decks. For much of their supply, shipbuilders looked to Russia and its Baltic ports. And the tsar’s domain delivered. Its vast hinterland was a trove of raw material, but above all, the country offered an inexpensive labour force. Prices were right. Additionally, there was a market for Russian linens, ironwork, and glassware. In return, quantities of tobacco, cotton, coffee, sugar, spices, and other non-indigenous goods were received in St. Petersburg. Trade between the two countries flourished. (In passing, it may be noted, the supply of these low-cost goods depended on serfdom and slavery. Legitimate argument can therefore be made that the profitable commerce between the two nations contributed to the perpetuation of these social evils within the two countries.)
The United States and Russia shared something else in common: space. Both countries had lots of it — arable lands galore, broad prairies, fertile river valleys, rich forests, and an abundance of natural resources. Frontierism helped to mould the national character of their respective peoples. While the energies of the great powers centred on empire building, Americans and Russians were also focused on the cultivation of these illimitable resources. The priority in both cases was first and foremost the exploitation of their lands’ bounty, as well as the maintenance of their security. Referring to the frontier and to national character, Foster R. Dulles observed in 1954 that “Russia and America have always looked to the future, for it has always been big with promise, and their people have shared a sturdy confidence, a sense of inherent power, that have often impressed foreign visitors.”[1] It was Alexis de Tocqueville, writing over a century and a half earlier, who defined it best:
There are at present two great nations in the world, which seem to tend towards the same end, although they start from different points. I allude to the Russians and the Americans.… Their starting point is different and their courses are not the same, yet each of them appears to be marked by the will of heaven to sway the destinies of half the globe.[2]
At the turn of the nineteenth century, the tsar’s domain stretched east from the Baltic Sea seemingly without end. It was the world’s largest country, a vast expanse that covered nearly one-sixth of the earth’s habitable surface. For over four centuries, the tsar’s territory had expanded at a rate of almost twenty square miles a day. Among its extensive steppes, rich farmlands, and dense forests, and along its massive waterways, lived some forty-four million subjects of diverse ethnic and religious origin. Much of the country was unmapped and sections of it simply unexplored.
And so it was also with the United States. When the thirteen colonies came together in 1776, the united territory included 892,000 square miles of land, stretching north to south along the Atlantic seaboard. The western borders of some states were not clearly delineated and most of the enormous territories required clearing. The population at the time was just over five million inhabitants, not counting slaves and the surviving indigenous people. In 1803, a determined Thomas Jefferson persuaded the Continental Congress to purchase from France the Louisiana Territory. On April 30 of that year, the triumphant president signed the deed of sale in payment for which Napoleon received $15 million. With a single stroke of the pen, the United States doubled in size. The nation now stretched from the shores of the Atlantic, across the Mississippi River and deep into the northwest. Apart from a few forts and the occasional trading post along the waterways, however, only Natives inhabited the newly acquired land.
At the time of the American Revolution, Catherine II was on the Russian throne. The formidable ruler had been watching the unfolding events in North America with curiosity, and, as a daughter of the Enlightenment, Catherine the Great was interested in the theoretical aspect of it. How would the principles of self-government take root were the colonials to succeed? She also wondered about the impact the developing events might have on Britain, a Russian ally. A disturbing aspect to the American Revolution was this: France, their common enemy, was aiding the young nation. Moreover, it did not escape Catherine that whatever the outcome, Russia’s trade with the United States would no doubt be affected. But how? Positively or negatively? And finally, she feared that the North American conflagration could draw European powers into conflict, which then might upset the delicate balance of power and in turn affect her expansionist ambitions.
Catherine observed the troublesome events as an interested bystander. From the beginning, and especially as the struggle gained momentum, she had little doubt that the British would fail, and she boldly expressed her opinion in public. Britain’s George III appealed to Catherine for military support — “a few Cossack regiments” (specifically, twenty thousand soldiers). She refused the request, pleading that her forces were exhausted from the recently terminated Turkish campaign, and she said, “I am just beginning to enjoy peace.” In alliance with Britain or not, the empress had little personal affection for its king and ministers, and no doubt this aversion influenced her reply. Besides, the whole matter was a hopeless case. George received her reply with profound resentment. He had, after all, supported the Russians in their recent Turkish war, and some form of reciprocation might reasonably have been expected.
As the confrontation in the American colonies went from bad to worse for the British, the king once more appealed to the tsarina, this time pleading for a force significantly greater than a few Cossacks. Before things went bad for the British, the request was as much for moral support as anything. Now it was a critical matter of maintaining the monarchical system and the status quo. Another Russian refusal, George said bluntly, would risk Britain’s enmity. In presenting his request to Catherine, British ambassador James Harris asked, “Suppose the colonies were yours. Would you give them independence?” To which Catherine indignantly replied, “I would rather lose my head! But the American colonies are not mine, fortunately.”
In 1779, Harris made one final, desperate appeal for Russian assistance, this time offering Catherine the island of Minorca as an enticement. If she were to decline that Mediterranean base, she might have been offered “one of the sugar islands” in the Caribbean — perhaps Jamaica. The empress would have none of that and George III was once more rebuffed. The miffed envoy in concluding his written report to the king quoted Catherine’s final rejoinder: “If England desires peace she must renounce her struggle with the colonies.” She did, however, offer her services as a mediator. The proposal was summarily rejected by George.
An intriguing academic question: had Catherine not steadfastly refused King George’s entreaties, but instead expedited the requested twenty thousand Cossacks, might the revolution’s been reversed? Imagine, then, the United States today as a Commonwealth nation, with the queen at its head ... not unlike Australia and New Zealand.
Chapter 2
The Determinative Period
The capital of the United States had been moved by 1800 from Philadelphia to its present location in Washington, D.C. The new capital city, however, was more of a concept than a reality. In 1790, George Washington had selected a sixty-nine-square-mile parcel of land that he persuaded Maryland and Virginia to cede (Virginia later reclaimed its part). Through the centre of the president’s dream capital flowed the Potomac River, referred to by First Nations people as “river of the swans.” These waters merged with the Anacostia River and then continued out through Chesapeake Bay to the shipping lanes of the Atlantic. Washington was a judicious selection of location, being halfway between Vermont and Georgia at the geographical