But the expedition was not so much a conquest as a summons, manu militari. As Terpigorev had said, the Russians had come to fetch the money; thus some amount of terrorism may have appeared necessary.
Scarcely any resistance was offered. Over a distance of some 200 versts the invaders only met a few weak detachments, easily put to flight or cut to pieces. But as yet no result was apparent. Most probably Ivan had not settled on any definite plan. He was working a little at random. In January, 1558, Schah-Ali, having amassed a huge amount of booty, agreed to a truce, and more delegates travelled to Moscow. They brought an instalment of the sum claimed, and they obtained a hearing. Thanks to the intervention of the Russian merchants concerned in the trade with Derpt and the neighbouring towns, and thanks, too, it may be, to certain other gold pieces prudently bestowed, unhoped-for concessions seemed within view. Ivan had already consented to treat, and to waive his claim to tribute, on account of the exhaustion of the country. But all the negotiations were upset by an unexpected piece of news. Narva, refusing to accept the truce, had continued to exchange cannon-shots with Ivangorod; the town had surrendered in April, 1558, but the fortress had continued to hold out; now (May 11) it had been carried by assault. Instantly Adachev, who was in charge of the negotiations, changed his tone. Hitherto the question had been, in somewhat nebulous and confusing terms, that of a tribute to be paid by the Bishopric of Derpt. Now a quite different claim was put forward; the whole of Livonia was called upon to accept, not only a similar obligation, but the suzerainty of Moscow, 'on the same terms as the territories of Kazan and Astrakan.' Fürstenberg, Grand Master of the Order, and the bishops of Derpt and Riga, were to proceed to Moscow, and there do homage, and Narva and the other lately-conquered towns were to be simply annexed to the Empire.
This method of proceeding by stages, and as it were by a succession of forward leaps, has always been the traditional policy of Russia. But Ivan certainly did not expect his new conditions to be instantly accepted. He was drawing a bow at a venture. Punishment had been wreaked, and he was now broaching conquest. The war went on, and the unhappy Livonia was no more fit to face it than before. The towns alone checked the invasion for a time. In his despair, Fürstenberg, who could only get 8,000 men together, made over his command to his coadjutor, Gotthard Kettler, who did no better. The fortresses yielded in their turn: first Neuhausen fell, then Marienburg. Cowardice and treachery were in every corner; the German chroniclers themselves admit it.
