The guards at the Governor's Mansion were all fired up by Venyabetlovsky's words. Seeing his chance, he decided to press on.
"As long as I'm alive, you'll all live well. Even if you die, money will be sent to your families.
I swear to God, if I'm finished, you'll be buried with me!"
The soldiers knew the situation they were in. On one side lay a life of comfort; on the other, surrender, with almost certain death if they failed.
They made their choice quickly. After all, they had never really had one.
"We'll protect Governor Venyabetlovsky to the death!"
"Victory to the Russian Empire!"
"Victory!"
Seeing his bodyguards' high spirits, Venyabetlovsky finally breathed a sigh of relief.
These soldiers were handpicked elite troops. They hadn't panicked at the prospect of battle, and had quickly organized a defensive line.
In the wake of the last Warsaw Uprising, Russia had imposed a complete ban on Poles carrying weapons in Warsaw. Even the police were only allowed to carry batons and old-fashioned weapons.
But the Governor's Mansion was exempt. It had the best equipment in all of Warsaw and the most elite soldiers, and they were confident they could hold out.
And so it proved. As soon as the two sides clashed, the Poles were routed. Most of their weapons were badly outdated, and even when they had modern rifles, they were so outnumbered that they couldn't use them to their full effect.
The guards at the Governor's Mansion had initially hoped to buy time with a bit of clever talk, but there were clearly savvy people among the Polish insurgents, and they gave them no chance.
Once the fighting began, the difference between the two sides was simply too great. The Poles should have been able to rush the Governor's residence