'The great General'—he refers to Zamoyski—'has never met a more odious man'—the epithet is applied to Possevino—'and he means to drive him out with a stick as soon as peace is made.' Will my readers kindly imagine the appearance as a mediator, under the walls of Paris, while the Germans were besieging that city, of the representative of any of the European Powers? Possevino, being the Pope's emissary, seemed the natural ally of the Polish cause, the triumph of which, even in Livonia, involved the victory of Catholicism and of the Papacy. Yet the very essence of all mediation is that it should be used against the strongest, and the strongest in this case was most incontestably Poland. As a matter of fact, the siege of Pskov was destined to last till January 15, 1582, and by that time the most difficult period would be past, the terrible trials of the winter safely faced, the besiegers over the Christmas and New Year festivals without having yielded to the tempting summons of their own hearths, and the approach of spring would be bringing all the chances of success over to their side. Surrender was inevitable, and with that, Ivan's submission to the victor's demands. Even if Possevino hastened the issue of the conflict, all he could do was to make it rather less disadvantageous to the weakest side.
Ivan did not need the Jesuit to inform him as to the state of things at Pskov, and the condition of the Polish army, but no doubt the Legate's letters, which confirmed his other information, convinced him he had reckoned too surely on the result of his intervention. And very soon he changed his tone, and, 'recognising the power of Batory and his Swedish ally,' bowed his head once more. He was ready, now, to send Ambassadors to treat directly for peace, and he reduced his pretensions. On the twofold condition that the valley of the Viélikaïa and a point of territory running up to Louki should remain Russian, and that Sweden should not be included in the treaty with him, he was willing to give up the whole of Livonia. Part of this country was already in the hands of the Swedes, and, he thought, might ultimately become the object of victorious reprisals on his part, while the valley of the Viélikaïa would ensure him a sufficient line of defence on the north-west frontier, in rear of which he might lay the foundations of a not far distant revenge. A fresh effort in the direction of the sea-coast would be attended by more favourable circumstances.
Well conceived as this retreat was from the strategical point of view, a retreat it was, nevertheless. Some Russian historians, in their anxiety to spare the national pride, have gone so far as to take it to be quite the contrary. According to them, the Polish army, which was almost entirely destroyed
