Yet more than half of Poland's territory had previously been occupied by Russia, Prussia, and Austria. Coupled with years of war, even with France's aid, impoverished Poland had long since exhausted its national strength.
The Polish Parliament had successively imposed numerous War Taxes, with roughly 60 percent of the public's income going to taxes. Driven by immense hatred, the people had gritted their teeth and supported the war against Russia.
Even so, supplies at the front had become extremely tight, making Kościuszko's offensives over the past two months nearly fruitless.
Who would have thought that, at noon yesterday, two men claiming to be envoys of the Society of Happiness had arrived at Polish Army headquarters and told Kościuszko that they intended to launch a revolution in a month, hoping to receive the cooperation of the Polish Army.
Kościuszko had heard of this Society of Happiness. It was a Liberal organization active in southwestern Russia, originally called the Society for National Salvation. Later, after attracting the attention of the Tsar's Secret Police, it had been forced to change its name to the harmless-sounding Society of Happiness.
These people advocated abolishing the Tsar and establishing a republic like that of the United States.
However, according to the information Kościuszko had received, the organization was not particularly powerful. It was basically a group of minor nobles who had read Rousseau's works and were "amusing themselves."
Yet the two men who had come this time claimed that they could gather at least a thousand soldiers, launch an attack behind Kutuzov's defensive line, and swiftly seize several nearby cities.
As the arguments of his subordinate officers rang in his ears, Kościuszko's gaze fell upon a pamphlet on the table beside him. Its cover bore the words "Russian Truth."
It had been left behind by the