Death, Conspiracies and Victory (Eastern Europe 1900)
According to the war plan of 1895, by January 1900 the armies of the European Union and the Kingdom of Poland were supposed to have liberated Livonia, taken the granaries of Ukraine for their own use, captured the city of Saint Petersburg in a pincer attack and generally deprived the Russian Bear from all its options to trade outside its borders.
Reality was far more disappointing. The Black Sea remained Russian-dominated, and at every moment of the year convoys sailed from harbours like Barcelona, Marseille and Athens to Odessa, Sochi and naval facilities whose allegiance was to the tsar of Russia. Finland was crushed, and any attack on Saint Petersburg by this point could not be considered anything else than the delusions of an asylum inmate.
For Sigismund IV, it was a big problem. Unlike the Southern Chinese Emperor, the King of Poland knew he was the primary enemy of Nicholas II. Considering the enmity between the two monarchs, there was a high probability the terms to make peace were going to be unpalatable when they were handed to the diplomats.
There were also dynastic considerations. The defeats of March 1899 had shaken badly the moral of the population. Before them, his subjects had been relatively confident in their ultimate victory. The troops were advancing into the Russian uncivilised lands, tens of thousands barbarians were killed and Livonia was partially liberated. Censorship and propaganda helping, the Polish common man in the streets had in all likelihood a rosy image of the Great War. 1899 put an end to this status quo.
Polish women working in the factories were not necessarily military geniuses, but every mother and sister could understand that when your armies were accumulating ‘great victories’ all the while the distance with Lodz and Warsaw never stopped shrinking, the outcome of the battles was not exactly as promising as the progresses written by the government-owned press.
Sigismund IV raged and demanded explanations to his Generals, but the high-ranked commanders threw back the accusations. In 1897, they had been confident to beat the Russians, but it had been with the help of Austria-Hungary, Serbia, Finland, Persia, the Ottoman Empire and many others. Obviously, Persia had been broken by third-rate garrison troops, the Ottomans were neutral and more and more inclined to side with the Entente and the Dual Republic had to send most of its reserves in Italy to save what they could from the French offensive. Since Finland was gone, Sweden was more or less allied with the Romanovs and Saxony had to do what it could to stalemate the Germans and the French, Poland was more or less alone to deal with the Russian bear.
In March 1900, the Serbians to their astonishment had been badly mauled by the first massive attack of the Greek army, forcing them to abandon any idea to go further east in Ukraine and Crimea. It was Poland against Russia, and in a straight contest the name of the winner was not difficult to guess.
There was a last option, and Sigismund used it shamelessly. The Russian in-exile Collectivists were sent in secret to the Russian capitals, their hate for Nicholas II being stronger than the distrust they felt for the Polish people.
On April 11, they struck. The Russian regime had been leaking war dispositions like a sieve for decades, and while the secret police had shut down and sent to Siberia tens of thousands enemies of the state, they were always more conspiring in the shadows. On April 11 1900, Moscow was the theatre of an extremely violent coup attempt, with hundreds of Polish-armed insurgents fuelling the anger of thousands anti-war Russians tired of the sacrifices imposed by the Great War and the corruption of the nobles. The garrison of the capital tried to intervene, but in the confusion many turned traitor or sided with their families over their oaths.
In the end, it took nearly five days for the loyal tsarist forces to retake Moscow from the insurgency, and when they did it was a bloodbath. Nicholas II had perished in the first minutes of the coup attempt, his entire escort slaughtered and his personal car blasted apart by a powerful explosion. After this massive betrayal, none of the divisions and regiments called to subdue the agitation were very inclined to be merciful. If several of the Collectivists managed to escape, it was because thousands of their brothers-in-arms were arrested and executed by firing squads.
Contrary to what the Polish agents in charge of the operation had hoped, the death of Nicholas II didn’t trigger a devastating civil war and the great cities didn’t rise in revolt. At best, there were some riots or other attempts to rebel, but those were brutally crushed and as the involvement of foreign powers was a given from the start, the actions were assimilated as a stab in the back.
Furthermore, the coup leaders had killed the supreme ruler, but they had missed his heir: Princess Anastasia had been at Saint Petersburg when the coup took place, and thus was out of reach of the Collectivists. Two weeks later, she was crowned as Anastasia I, Tsarina of the Russian Empire.
The European Union didn’t lose that much territory in the summer campaign, but the Russian next offensive still retook the entirety of Livonia and for the first time eastern boots accepted the surrender of several positions on the pre-war frontier. There were also Polish villages under the fire of the artillery, forcing Warsaw to order the first evacuations since 1897.
Sigismund IV had not much to bargain left. Serbia was holding against Greece, but it was another bloody stalemate after a short Greek advance. There was no possible breakthrough in the Ukrainian provinces and taking Kiev would require a miracle. Moreover, Anastasia I’s police was busy imprisoning and exiling several thousand people who may have had at one point or another showed sympathy towards Poland and the agenda they promoted.
The Bear was preparing for the last act...and few at Warsaw predicted a nice end to this story of war, gunpowder and death...