Chapter 727: War and Generals
Tormasov saw that Suvorov's expression was troubled and quickly asked, "Marshal, has something happened?"
Suvorov, looking grim, tossed the battle report to him and let out a sigh. "Perhaps we won't be staying in Minsk much longer."
Tormasov quickly scanned the report, his brows deeply furrowed. "The losses... are indeed quite significant."
He suddenly realized, looking at Suvorov. "Are you saying we're leaving here?"
"Precisely."
"But we just achieved a breakthrough, we should continue pushing westward..."
Suvorov waved a dismissive hand. "The Empire's finances are likely unable to sustain the war here any longer. Unless His Majesty the Tsar decides to abandon Crimea."
Tormasov immediately grasped the situation.
Crimea had been practically devastated by the Poles; reconstruction would undoubtedly require enormous investment.
Kakhovsky's legion, in particular, had made a long-distance assault from Mozyr to Crimea, a forced march unencumbered by supplies.
This necessitated continuously dispatching supplies to the army along the way.
However, the region spanning several hundred miles from Mozyr south, through Severya to Yekaterinoslav, was extremely barren, so supplies could only be transported from central cities like Lipetsk.
Such a long distance would require at least a hundred thousand serfs for logistical transport, and the expenditure involved would undoubtedly be astronomical.
As for the damaged city of Bryansk and the captured Kursk Fortress, their losses seemed less significant in comparison.
Originally, the Empire's finances were sufficient to support the army against the Poles for about a year, but after Kościuszko's prolonged campaign, it would only last for four or five months at most.
And now, nearly four months had passed since the war began.
Tormasov said with deep reluctance, "We could seek a loan."
Suvorov seemed dispirited. "Even if we could secure funds for the war, our manpower is already insufficient."
"How can that be?" Tormasov exclaimed in surprise. "We still have over eighty thousand troops in Poland, and the Poles have at most eighty thousand soldiers.
"I believe you only need sixty thousand soldiers to defeat them!"
He automatically overlooked Kakhovsky's legion. Although the battle report didn't mention specific casualty figures, the need for half a year of recuperation suggested that many units were likely broken up.
Suvorov sighed, "But I won't have sixty thousand troops for long."
"What?"
"Don't forget the Ottomans," Suvorov said. "With Crimea so undefended, they won't be without ideas."
Tormasov instantly paused.
Indeed, with Bakhchysarai destroyed, if the Ottomans suddenly marched in, they could very easily capture Crimea.
Russia would need to station at least twenty to thirty thousand troops there for defense. They couldn't withdraw until Bakhchysarai was largely repaired.
He then remembered that troops had also been withdrawn from Moldavia. The Ottomans still asserted their suzerainty over Moldavia, refusing to acknowledge Russian control there.
Therefore, those troops would also have to be sent back.
After all the calculations, the forces remaining in Poland might not even reach sixty thousand.
Still somewhat unwilling, Tormasov suggested, "If His Majesty mobilizes troops from the central provinces to fight in Poland..."
Suvorov no longer had the inclination to tour Minsk. He turned his horse around and said, "Let's return to headquarters. The Empire will need at least three years to recuperate before it can launch another large-scale mobilization."
Tormasov hastily rode after him. "No, there must be another way..."
...
Saint Petersburg.
Winter Palace.
Catherine II clenched her fists tightly and declared in a low voice, "There must be another way!"
Zubov cautiously stepped forward two paces and said, "Your Majesty, if we can secure a loan, we can continue to reinforce our forces."
The Tsar pondered for a moment, then looked at Rumyantsev. "How much more funding do you think is needed to continue Suvorov's offensive?"
The latter mused, "At least eight million rubles, Your Majesty. Twelve million rubles would be safer."
The figure made Catherine II's heart tighten. Russia's total annual revenue was only one hundred million rubles.
She quickly reviewed potential lenders. The German States' finances were all strained, France was deeply in debt, and Spain... probably still wanted to borrow money from Russia.
Therefore, only the wealthy and influential Great Britain could provide such a massive loan.
She abruptly rose to her feet and told Zubov, "You will leave for Britain immediately. You must secure a loan of at least eight million rubles. Oh, and have Bezborodko accompany you."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
Just as Zubov was about to turn, an officer quickly entered along the wall and whispered a few words into Rumyantsev's ear.
Rumyantsev's expression immediately darkened.
He hesitated for a moment, then addressed Catherine II, "Your Majesty, news just arrived from Crimea."
"Hmm?"
"Kościuszko was not found among the bodies. Of course, he might have been obliterated by a cannonball."
The Tsar irritably rubbed her temples. "Anything else?"
"It seems there are still nearly two thousand Polish troops active in eastern Crimea. General Kakhovsky has already dispatched men to pursue them..."
"Smash!" Catherine II slammed the pen stand next to her onto the floor.
...
Kościuszko was awakened by pain.
He struggled to open his eyes, straining to look at the source of the excruciating pain. He saw that his left leg had vanished from the knee down, and the stump of his thigh was wrapped in blood-soaked bandages.
He gasped for air, his mouth wide open, and it took several minutes before he could barely adjust to the agony.
'I'm... not dead?'
He raised his eyes and looked around. It was a dingy yellow cottage, and he was lying on an earthen bed. His military uniform had been replaced with a Cossack shirt.
The door opened, and an old woman in Ottoman attire entered. Seeing him awake, she anxiously spoke a torrent of words.
Seeing that Kościuszko didn't understand, she turned and went out, returning with a middle-aged man.
The man spoke in Russian, "Honored sir, Mesikh asked me to hide you here. Oh, he joined the resistance."
Kościuszko asked weakly for quite a while, finally managing to understand that he had been hit in the left leg by a cannonball that day and had passed out.
The guards had carried him back to the river. Fortunately, members of the resistance on the opposite bank spotted them and managed to get a small boat to take him downstream, hiding him in this farmhouse.
'Thank you. Am I the only one?'
"Yes, Mesikh only brought you."
...
Vienna.
Schönbrunn Palace.
Franz II looked at Baron Thugut, frowning. "Are you saying Russia might make peace with Poland?"
"It appears so, Your Majesty. Russian offensives in Minsk and Mozyr have ceased, and some soldiers have been withdrawn back home. Reportedly, their losses in Crimea were devastating."
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