The Vorontsov Palace

he Vorontsov Palace (1844–47), standing proudly on Tbilisi’s Rustaveli Avenue, holds for Georgia the same symbolic weight the Winter Palace does for Russia. At this very site, the first unassuming house was erected at the turn of the 18th to 19th centuries, shortly after Kartli-Kakheti became part of the Russian Empire. Its first resident was a man of distinguished name—Karl Knorring, a daring cavalry officer but a woefully inadequate administrator.

Russia had inherited a country devastated by the punitive campaign of Shah Agha Mohammad Qajar in 1795—a land in ruins, its capital city reduced to rubble, and the ancient Bagrationi dynasty, once momentarily revived under King Heraclius II, once again teetering toward chaos. The turmoil was partly driven by his second wife Darejan, whose son Alexander defected to Persia and returned at the head of an army of Georgia’s fiercest enemies—the Avars.

Determining that there could be no room for two kings under Russian rule, Knorring deposed the Georgian monarchy following the death of King George XII in 1801. For the Georgians, a nation with a deeply ingrained sense of aristocratic pride, it was a humiliation greater than any imposed by Turks or Persians. Yet Knorring, gathering the Georgian nobility in the Sioni Cathedral, coerced them into allegiance—at literal gunpoint. Thus, he became head of Georgia’s Supreme Administration, joined by chief administrator Pyotr Kovalevsky and commander-in-chief Ivan Lazarev, who was tasked with hunting down members of the Bagrationi family and deporting them to St. Petersburg.

Lazarev’s reign ended dramatically when Queen Mariam stabbed him to death with a dagger. He had broken into her chambers in the dead of night, shouting at her as though she were a scullery maid, demanding she rouse her children and prepare for immediate departure. The Romanovs, in contrast, were eager to appear magnanimous: the queen was merely exiled to Belgorod, while Knorring was dismissed from his post. He was replaced by Pavel Tsitsianov—himself a prince of the ancient Tsitsishvili family, though he made no attempt to pass as “one of their own,” instead enforcing his rule with severity until his death outside Baku in 1806.

Thus passed Georgia’s first half-century under Russian rule: a time when officials competed in incompetence, noblemen plotted powerless intrigues, and all the while, ordinary Georgians slowly grew accustomed to life without the daily terror of raids. It was not until 1844 that military governance gave way to civil administration, with the appointment of Count Mikhail Vorontsov as Viceroy of the Caucasus—a man who had already overseen the flourishing of Novorossiya. Under his leadership, the image of Georgia that lives in collective memory took shape: a land of wine, sunlight, and song.

With him came factories, museums, theaters—and a palace that was no less grand than the vision he helped cultivate.

Vorontsov’s name marks an entire epoch in Georgian history. During his tenure, schools and public libraries were established, the first theaters opened their doors, and the Kavkaz newspaper began publication. Traditions of the Caucasus, long eclipsed under Persian rule, began to reawaken. Industrialization took root with the construction of Georgia’s first factories and residential districts.

The Vorontsov Palace remains one of the most elegant edifices on Rustaveli Avenue, built in the refined Renaissance style. It harmonizes beautifully with the cultural and historical ambiance of the avenue. Its exquisite ornamentation, both inside and out, and its noble grandeur allow it to rival the finest achievements of European architecture.

Inside, the palace astonishes visitors with a kaleidoscope of color and luxurious decor. Gilded ceilings adorned with intricate patterns, bronze sconces and light fixtures, chandeliers of breathtaking beauty, and an interior of refined opulence leave guests awestruck. Most remarkable of all is the Persian Hall. Entering it, one is struck by an ethereal sense of lightness and airiness. The room, awash in white, is uniquely enhanced by mirrored inlays in the stuccoed ceilings and walls, creating an illusion of ephemerality—as if the room were suspended in dream.

The palace took on its current appearance between 1867 and 1869, remaining the residence of the highest-ranking official in the Caucasus—and, remarkably, became the birthplace of three future states.

After the February Revolution, the Viceroyalty was replaced by OZAKOM (the Special Transcaucasian Committee—a branch of the Provisional Government). Following the October Revolution, power shifted to the Transcaucasian Commissariat under Petre Gegechkori, which leaned toward the Constituent Assembly. Then, on January 18, 1918, the Transcaucasian Sejm was formed, led by Nikolay Chkheidze—an assembly ideologically opposed to the Bolsheviks.

The Sejm was divided almost evenly among Georgian Mensheviks, Armenian Dashnaks, and Azerbaijani Musavatists, who attempted, in vain, to broker cooperation even as ethnic violence erupted. Meanwhile, the western front collapsed, and with Turkish forces advancing, the Sejm declared the independence of the Transcaucasian Democratic Federative Republic (TDFR) on April 22, 1918.

The TDFR even had its own flag—but survived barely a month. It quickly became clear that even the three Transcaucasian peoples could not walk a shared path. On April 26, pro-German Georgia declared independence, followed two days later by pro-Turkish Azerbaijan and an isolated, beleaguered Armenia.

Today, the small park beside the Vorontsov Palace is named after the First Republic. In the 1930s, one could often see an elderly Georgian woman with a sorrowful face strolling there. That was Keke—Ekaterine Jughashvili (Geladze), the mother of Joseph Stalin. He had arranged for her to live right in the seat of the Georgian SSR government.

The government moved out in 1936, and since then, the palace has become the Palace of Pioneers—today, the Palace of Youth. Technically, a museum still operates within, and it is possible to book a tour to see the restored interiors that still whisper of Vorontsov’s age.