Saint Petersburg, Winter Palace.
The Tsar had no idea that Europe was already in complete disarray over the Polish question. The spring breeze brought news of the Poles launching a rebellion because they refused to convert, and of the British fleet entering the Baltic Sea.
The Russians could hardly believe their ears. To begin with, few high-ranking Russian officials had thought that forcing the Poles to convert would provoke a rebellion. After all, they had succeeded many times before.
And if Austria could do it, why couldn't Russia?
Another fact was that the Poles in Russian-controlled Poland had already suffered a crushing blow. Their leadership and grassroots organizations had both been severely damaged, and they would need years, perhaps even decades, to recover.
Even the common people had been driven out under the pretext of a great plague, and many had been massacred. In theory, they should have been at the Russians' mercy.
Second, the British fleet's entry into the Baltic Sea had shocked the Russians even more. Denmark and Britain were bitter enemies; in theory, Denmark could never have allowed the British to pass through the Danish Straits.
The Swedes called themselves the "Lords of the North." The Baltic Sea was the very foundation of their power. How could they let anyone else meddle there?
And yet, in reality, the British fleet had sailed into the Baltic Sea without hindrance, under a preposterous pretext.
The British claim of protecting free trade was absurd, but Britain was the largest importer of Russian timber, and Libava was indeed an important timber-trading hub.
Many Russian officials' families were involved in the timber trade. Beyond that, they had all sorts of relationships with the British that were difficult to explain.
Britain was, after all, the world's leading economic power at the time, and