Chapter 604: A Glimmer of Hope
Stanisław II replied with profound humility:
"Your Majesty, Poland shall forever remain under your wing. Every nation acknowledges that any progress Poland makes stems from your benevolence."
"Is that truly the case?" Catherine II shook her head ever so slightly. "What I've heard, however, is that you've been relentlessly indoctrinating your people with the idea that they are Poles, whether they speak Polish, Russian, or German."
A chill prickled the Polish King's spine, and cold sweat instantly beaded on his back. He knew a single misspoken word right now could doom Poland.
Yet, the smile on his face only broadened.
"Your Majesty, these are merely stratagems to placate those stubborn Prussians and Romanians who refuse to pay taxes. They must feel themselves to be Poles before they'll even consider paying tribute to the Polish King, wouldn't you agree?"
The proportion of ethnic Poles and Lithuanians, who formed the core of the nation, was not particularly high. Within Poland's borders lived significant populations of Prussians, Russians, Austrians, and Romanians. This diverse demographic was a major reason why it was so difficult for them to unite effectively when facing foreign invasion.
Stanisław II pressed on:
"Those dim-witted officials in Warsaw, somehow, managed to spread these 'deceptions' into Ukraine. Such tactics are entirely unnecessary there.
Poland's nationalist ideals, having been disseminated for over two years, had already taken deep root among the populace, making any further government promotion entirely superfluous.
Later, he would instruct the parliament to issue a decree prohibiting the propagation of "Great Polish Nation" ideals. Yet, a current of thought is not something that can be suppressed by political decree; such attempts might even provoke a rebellious backlash from the populace, inadvertently fueling another surge of fervor.
This way, Russia would be left without a pretext to pressure the Polish government—'Look, I've tried my utmost, but these unruly commoners simply won't obey; what more can I do?'
Catherine II's eyes narrowed, as though she had accepted Stanisław's explanation, before she posed another question:
"Then, has Warsaw's substantial military expansion over the past few months also been solely to intimidate those commoners reluctant to pay their taxes?"
Stanisław II felt his scalp prickle. Truth be told, if his nephew and Father Sais hadn't meticulously prepared him with contingency plans before his departure, he would undoubtedly have been too flustered to utter a single word.
Fortunately, the Tsar's line of questioning remained within his expectations.
"Your Majesty, this, too, is merely a venture to secure some funds," he stated piteously. "As you know, Poland's debt crisis has become dire."
"I am of the opinion that a larger army will only drain more of your national treasury to maintain," the Tsar's voice was distinctly chilly. "Tell me, who precisely do you intend to deploy such a substantial military force against?"
Stanisław II strove to maintain his composure, feigning a look of wronged innocence.
"Your Majesty, these soldiers are genuinely nothing more than a commercial undertaking.
"Mawalofski, in an effort to generate some revenue for the national coffers, hit upon a scheme inspired by the Bulgarians: organizing commoners who would otherwise be unproductive into mercenary companies.
"By fortunate coincidence, Austria signaled their need to suppress the rebellion in Slavonia, so I instructed him to recruit some men to earn a commission.
"Please rest assured, once our arrangement with Austria is concluded, I will immediately disband these forces. Indeed, I truly lack the funds to sustain so many soldiers."
This was, naturally, merely a tactic to buy time. As long as Russia offered no immediate opposition, once these new recruits were properly trained and seasoned, any future Russian objections would hold little sway.
"Very well," Catherine II finally allowed a smile to grace her lips once more. "Stanisław, I must remind you that Russia alone genuinely safeguards Poland and desires its prosperity. To stray from Russia's side would inevitably plunge Poland into peril."
Stanisław II immediately bowed low.
"Yes, Your Majesty, please believe that these sentiments are precisely my own."
The following day, at noon, Catherine II received a letter from Potemkin.
The letter advised her not to place her trust in Stanisław II. It asserted that following the passage of the new constitution, Poland was steadily distancing itself from Russia, inching closer to becoming a fully sovereign nation. Potemkin urged that Russia ought to, as always, remain prepared for conflict with Poland and not let down its guard.
Though Potemkin was stationed in Iasi, he had received a discrete warning from his romantic rival, Zubov, informing him that the Polish King was attempting to sway the Tsar. Thus, he had immediately penned this letter.
Catherine II hesitated for a moment, then simply dropped the letter into a drawer.
Indeed, Potemkin's warning was hardly necessary; as one of Europe's most astute monarchs, she had long since discerned the ulterior motives behind Stanisław II's effusive flattery.
Yet, she found herself in an uncharacteristic state of hesitation. Though all indications from Poland suggested they were preparing for something significant, Stanisław had also given her his assurances that these issues would be rectified.
For some inexplicable reason, her mind drifted to his melancholic, world-weary gaze. In that moment, she felt a sudden urge to trust him just this once—that Poland would indeed remain the docile, obedient protectorate it had always been...
...
The Southern Netherlands.
The city of Ostend.
Edmond Henry Demuville gazed at the dozen or so sailing ships silhouetted against the setting sun, a distinct sense of unreality blossoming within him.
For over two decades, he had never once conceived of himself becoming a sailor, just as he had never believed he would ever repay that crushing debt.
The elder Demuville had tormented him for a full sixteen years, leaving him with a sole inheritance: a debt of 5,300 livres.
The old drunkard's life revolved solely around cheap wine and violent binges. Six years prior, in a drunken stupor, he had accidentally beaten a nobleman to death. The court sentenced him to twenty years in prison and ordered him to pay 3,000 livres in compensation to the victim's family.
He was fortunate enough to die before ever setting foot in prison. Demuville's mother, desperate to settle the debt, sold off their family assets and borrowed from every relative and friend she could, finally managing to pay the 3,000 livres.
She subsequently died from sheer exhaustion.
Over the years, that 3,000-livre sum, with interest piling upon interest, had swelled to over 5,000 livres.
Just as Demuville, crushed under the weight of his debts, had fallen into despair, a distant relative and one of his largest creditors, Madeno, presented him with an exceedingly lucrative opportunity.
The work promised an annual income of 1,200 francs. He could pay off his entire debt in less than five years!
The job involved running sea trades with the "Puls Gang."
At the time, Demuville had been profoundly disheartened, as he had never once set foot on a boat in his life, much less considered becoming a sailor.
However, Madeno informed him that the Walloon Commercial Committee had recently established a new "Marine Commercial School," where he could learn the ropes of becoming a crewman. Tuition was a mere 30 francs, and he could even begin his studies immediately, deferring payment until later.
Consequently, after four months of intensive training, Demuville successfully passed his assessment as an "Apprentice Deckhand" and subsequently secured a position aboard the brig "Leisure."
The boatswain of the "Leisure" promised him an annual salary of 1,350 francs, contingent on him ensuring he sailed out to sea at least six times each year.
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